In the Spirit of Hegel 0195036506, 9780195036503

Citation preview

I n the Spirit of Hegel

Thispage intentionally left blank

I n the Spirit o f Hegel A Study of G.W.F. Hegel’s Phenomenology o f Spirıt

Robert C . Solomon

N e w York O x f o r d O X F O R D U N I V E R S I T Y PRESS

Oxford University Press Oxford New York Toronto Delhi Bombay Calcutta Madras Karachi Petaling Jaya Singapore Hong Kong Tokyo Nairobi Dar es Salaam Cape Town Melbourne Auckland a n d associated companies i n

Beirut Berlin Ibadan Nicosia

Copyright © 1983 by Oxford University Press, Inc. First published i n 1983 by Oxford University Press, Inc., 198 Madison Avenue, N e w York, N e w York

10016

F i r s t issued as a n O x f o r d University Press p a p e r b a c k , 1985

Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press

A l l rights reserved. N o part of this publication may be reproduced, stored i n a retrieval system, or transmitted, i n any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,

without the prior permission of Oxford University Press, Library of Congress Cataloging i n Publication Data Solomon, Robert C. I n the spirit of Hegel.

Bibliography: p. Includes index. ı . Hegel, George W i l h e l m F r i e d r i c h ,

1770-1831.

Phinomenologie des Geistes. 2 . Spirit. 3. Conscience. 4. T r u t h . I . Title. B2g29.S54 193 82-2154

ISBN

0-19-503169-5 0-19-503650-6

AACR2 (pbk.)

Printing (last digit): 9 8 7 P r i n t e d i n the U n i t e d States o f America

I n the spirit o f Friendship, for Jay & Eileen, for L e e & Meredith,

for Christopher & Ann

Thispage intentionally left blank

Preface

. 1t is n o t difhcult t o see that ours 1s a birth-time and a period o f transition t o a new era. Spirit has broken with the world it has hitherto inhabited and imagined, and 1s o f a m i n d t o submerge i t i n the past,

and 1n the labour o f its own transformation. Spirit 1s indeed never a t rest but always engaged i n moving forward. But just as the first breath drawn by a child after its long, quiet nourishment breaks the gradualness o f m e r e l y quantitative growth—there is a qualitative l e a p , a n d t h e

child is born—so likewise the Spirit i n its formation matures slowly and quietly into its new shape, dissolving bit by bit the structure of its previous world, whose tottering state is only hinted a t by isolated sympt o m s . T h e f r i v o l i t y a n d b o r e d o m w h i c h unsettle t h e e s t a b l i s h e d order,

the vague foreboding o f something unknown, these are the heralds of approaching change. The gradual crumbling that left unaltered the face o f the whole is c u t short by a sunburst which, ın one flash, illumin a t e s t h e f e a t u r e s o f t h e n e w w o r l d . — H e g e l , Phenomenology o f Spirit

(para. 11)

I t 1s early a u t u m n , 1806. I t 1s that time o f year when philosophy professors are writing up their summer research, shaking off the pressureless days o f thought a n d solitude, p r e p a r i n g w i t h mixed anticipation, gratitude, a n d an-

noyance their lectures for the coming t e r m . But this 1s 1806, and the city is Jena. The university Is one o f the oldest i n Europe, but this is n o t a normal t e r m . I t will never begin, and i t 1s on no one’s mind. Within earshot o f these hallowed academic halls are the troops o f Napoleon. T h e cannonade has already started.

The distant thunder foretells the crumbling o f Europe’s oldest empire, long disintegrated anyway into a hundred squabbling s t a t e s and petty principalities. (Neither “holy,” n o r “Roman,” n o r an “empire,” Voltaire had quipped, a half-century before.) T h e r e were many Germans who welcomed the intrusion, despite the dangers. To them, Napoleon was n o t merely a foreign invader;

he was the incarnation o f the glorious revolution i n France which

vill

Preface

they h a d avidly followed as students. Wordsworth’s words h a d never

applied better than

to

them, “Twas bliss i n that dawn, t o be alive: But

t o be young was very heaven.” O f course, many were shocked and

confused about the later phases o f the revolution, the “Reign o f Terr o r ” o f 1792-95. B u t there were many intellectuals, I m m a n u e l Kant, for example, who condoned even the Terror as a necessary t r a u m a i n

the realization o f the new ideals; and even those who never took the revolution all that seriously, the great poet Goethe, for example, could become enthusiastic about the impending revitalization o f German culture. Whatever one’s views, the sheer imminence o f Napoleon and his Continental army made indifference impossible and anxious speculation Inevitable. Few can view a n invasion by foreign armies with unqualified enthu-

siasm. Napoleon was dangerous. But for a century and a half, since the T h i r t y Years War ( 1 6 1 8 - 4 8 ) , most o f the scattered an d isolated

German principalities (nearly 250 o f them) had been badly ruled by petty tyrants who spouted the fashionable Enlightenment slogans i n

the courts o f their feudal abuses. ( Jena, where Hegel w r o t e the Phenomenology was something o f an exception.) I n a Europe now prospering with bourgeois business and breathing the heady vapors o f “liberty, equality, fraternity,” the petty princes closed their states t o the world, taxed a n d demoralized their citizens, suppressed ideas an d

local culture, and retreated into the pretensions o f French

court

life

o r the vacuum o f medieval lite, a lite whose spirit h a d l o n g since died

but whose structures still stood, like the walls o f the ancient towns. To the young breed o f restless intellectuals i n Germany, Napoleon did indeed seem like “liberation,” and since the emperor described his own policies i n t e r m s o f “liberation” rather than conquest (whatever his designs), b r i n g i n g w i t h h i m the reforms o f the French Revolution

and the end o f the old and already half-dead world, the general reaction i n Germany could only be enthusiastic, i f qualified. The domi n a n t image o f the epoch was the b i r t h o f a new world, a change i n

the very concept o f reality. I n spring o f 1806, G.W.F. Hegel, an assistant professor a t the University of Jena, ended his lectures, o n the “philosophy o f Spirit”; Gentlemen! We find ourselves i n an important epoch, i n a fermentation, i n which Spirit has made a leap forward, has gone beyond its previous c o n c r e t e form and acquired a new one. The whole mass o f ideas and concepts that have been c u r r e n t until now, the very bonds o f the world, are dissolved and collapsing into themselves like a vision i n a dream. A new emergence o f spirit 1s as hand; philosophy m u s t b e t h e first t o hail i t s a p p e a r a n c e a n d recognize i t , while others,

Preface

1X

resisting impotently, adhere to the past, a n d the majority uncon-

sciously constitute the matter i n which i t makes its appearance.

Many years ago, he had followed the revolution i n France with enthusiasm. H e n o w watched hopefully as the fruits o f that revolution were about t o be b r o u g h t home t o Germany: the end o f a world, the b e g i n n i n g o f a n e w o n e . I n t h e midst o f a l l t h i s trauma, h e was finish-

i n g a book, the Phenomenology of Spirit. I n this c o n t e x t o f turmoil and terror, hope a n d expectation, what sort o f b o o k could i t be?

I f one reads m o s t o f the commentaries and studies that have been written ever since, one w o u l d t h i n k that i t is a ponderous b o o k o n

metaphysics, perhaps a resurrection o f Aristotle, a contribution t o post-Kantian idealism and a m o s t unorthodox defense o f Christianity. For those more learned a n d schooled i n German thinking, i t is a n introduction to a philosophical “system” which would compete with

the rival but sibling systems of Johann Fichte and Friedrich Schelling. Marxist and existentialist readers seem certain that i t 1s primarily a

demonstration o f a new form o f logic called “dialectic.” Explicitly, i t is an exercise i n Wissenschaft or “Science,” a journey t o “the Absolute,” b u t b o t h “Science” a n d “ t h e Absolute” are little m o r e t h a n obligatory

bows t o the internal politics o f academic professionalism. Not that Hegel didn’t indulge i n that: the Phenomenology is Hegel’s late attempt t o e n t e r the philosophical lists o f German Idealism, t o prove his originality and independence from Schelling and the Romantics, t o prove that, a t the age o f thirty-six, he was capable o f something more than academic reviews o f his contemporaries. H e also pursued the philosophies o f Aristotle and Kant, Fichte and Schelling, Spinoza and the pre-Socratics, helped t o develop what has since been canonized as “dialectic” (invented by the Greek philosophers and renewed by Kant a n d Fichte), a n d tried t o portray his philosophy as “Science” (when what h e p r o v e d was that philosophy is a n art). B u t all o f this, is n o t

the point. (Is i t worth reading Hegel i t all he’s doing is competing w i t h Fichte a n d Schelling, w h o m we r e a d , after all, o n l y t o understand H e g e l better?)

T h e Phenomenology was first o f all a child o f its time. I t was the a n n o u n c e m e n t and the formal recognition o f the new world. I t was

completed, so the story goes, o n the very eve o f Napoleon’s decisive

victory a t Jena. This was no academic treatise, no ordinary philosophy book. I t was consciously intended t o be a great book, a prophetic w o r k , full o f enthusiasm a n d excitement, even i f G e r m a n academic

prose and Hegel's intentionally obscure style n o w render this enthusiasm less than contagious. The Phenomenology reached far beyond the

Preface

X

confines o f scholars

to

embrace what Hegel called “the spirit o f the

times,” the h o p e f u l confusion o f every peasant, craftsman, soldier,

and businessman—in short, “humanity.” I f i t is a book that is often obscure i n its references and perplexing i n its organization—what else could be the self-consciously global expression o f those confused and terrible times? Whatever the pretensions about “Science,” the Phenomenology was a very personal book, a n attempt to understand

and t o make reasonable a n unreasonable world. I f i t is a n exercise i n dialectical logic, i t is anything but logical. I f i t pretends t o be historical, i t gives us everything but history. The Phenomenology is a grand and passionate vision, a conceptual symphony, the recognition o f a new “ s p i r i t ” which was c o m i n g to be a n d needed a sense o f itself,

through the auspices o f philosophy. The Phenomenology is

n o t to

be

c o m p a r e d so m u c h to Aristotle o r K a n t as to Goethe’s Faust, o r per-

haps

to

Beethoven’s compositions o f the same time and similar cir-

cumstances. I t is great philosophy, b u t i t is, first o f all, a spiritual auto-

biography, a passionate confession, an enthusiastic encounter with “destiny.” Fifteen years later, a n older, established and m o r e secure Professor

Hegel, writing from his professorial chair i n Berlin, would announce i n the Preface t o his Philosophy of Right that “When philosophy paints its grey o n grey, the world 1s already old.” We can only conclude that

the hopes and enthusiasms had died, that this was an expression o f despair representative o f the “reaction” that followed the fall o f Napoleon and the failure o f the Prussian reform movement. But t o read that resignation back i n t o the Phenomenology a nd to forget its hotbed

historical c o n t e x t is t o misunderstand its “spirit” entirely. I t is nearly t w o centuries later. That c o n t e x t is now only history; the names o f the battlefields are M e t r o stops i n Paris a n d have been re-

placed by a thousand or so scholarly investigations into lost causes and facts. But the Phenomenology 1s also a work o f philosophy, and there is then that question, “What is living and what is dead i n Hegel's philosophy?” Napoleon is dead. So is Hegel. T h e text, however, is

alive, brought

to

life n o longer by the “spirit o f the times” but by our

reading o f i t , o u r t h i n k i n g about i t a n d its effects o n us. L u i s Borges

has told us that we should always read a book as i f i t had been written today, and i f this approach ignores the spirit that originally inspired the book, i t nonetheless reminds us that we ourselves are now the life o f that text. I t is o u r renewed source o f inspiration, a conceptual gatewar to a n e w w o r l d , w h e t h e r o r n o t we choose to stay there. Hegel's

Phenomenology 1s still an example o f the philosophical imagination a t its finest, a n i n v i t a t i o n for u s to allow ourselves t o use i t t o o u r o w n

Preface

xi

purposes, as philosophers confronting a philosopher, that is, doing philosophy i n the spirit o f Hegel himself. I have tried t o combine t w o equally necessary approaches t o Hegel, either or both o f which are often missing—to appreciate the historical and intellectual c o n t e x t which give sense t o Hegel's expressions a n d concerns, so different f r o m o u r o w n , b u t a t t h e same t i m e to r e s t a t e a t e v e r y t u r n t h e s u b s t a n c e o f t h e argument i n o u r o w n terms,

according to o u r o w n concerns, which w o u l d have been b y the nature o f the case inaccessible o r unintelligible to Hegel i n his o w n time.

The Phenomenology is

not

just a corpse for scholars, drained o f its

spirit and ready for dissection. I t is not merely a document o f its times, like the list o f prisoners i n the Bastille o n July 14, 1789. I t is n o t a

problem o f biography, t o be traced t o college courses, friends and rivalries, tensions, toilet training, and perhaps birth trauma. I t is n o t a holy t e x t , hiding a fixed meaning, the intentions o f the author, the right interpretation. We c a n n o t understand the book as Hegel did; a M a r x i s t c a n n o t read ıt i n the same way as a C h r i s t i a n , a n d Hegel, even i f we could ask h i m , m i g h t well n o t remember what h e meant o r

what he said or why he said what he said. He wrote very quickly, carelessly, the kind o f writing that feels inspired a t three i n the morni n g , a bottle o f R h i n e wine by one’s side, b u t often becomes k i n d l i n g

for the fire the following atternoon. The book was written i n less than a year—what commentary o n i t has been written so fast? I t is filled

with infelicities that would n o t have survived a second draft: mixed metaphors that are almost embarrassing and such unfortunate devices as “ o n the one hand, . . . o n the other hand . . . and thirdly . . ” References a r e o b s c u r e d , p r o n o u n s ambiguous, s u b o r d i n a t e clauses

left d a n g l i n g , a n d worse, there are leaps in logic t h a t o n n o account

can be defended by the appeal t o “speculative” thinking or the “subtlety” o f Hegel’s dialectic. There are schoolboy anecdotes slipped into the crevices o f almost indecipherable arguments, and the over-

all s t r u c t u r e o f the book is so chaotic that i t has been explained away by German scholars on the grounds that Hegel changed his mind i n the middle o f the book. (Which is, o f course, a way o f n o t having t o deal with i t as philosophy. The book then becomes an archaeological artifact.)

Too many excuses have been made for abominable philosophical prose, so let usj u s t say outright: Hegel was a horrible writer. (His contemporary Jacobi commented o n a n unsigned essay: “ I recognize the bad style.”) We can only smile a t the enthusiasm o f J. N . Findlay, for

example, who c o m m e n t s that Hegel was a literary genius and the Preface o f the Phenomenology a masterpiece. O n the lighter side, the

X11

Preface

book 1s filled with jokes, puns, wisecracks, sarcasm, parody, and all

those ingredients which tend t o make an academic work “not serious.” B u t i n n o way does any o f this mean that we should dismiss Hegel, as

several generations of American philosophers have done; i t means that we m u s t read him as he insisted on reading the philosophers before him, with an appreciation for the historical and intellectual c o n t e x t w i t h i n w h i c h w e , b u t n o t h e , c a n see h i s limitations, h i s b l i n d

spots and his less happy implications, recasting h i m i n o u r o w n terms

which, given what he sometimes seems t o

w a n t to

say, are better than

his own. We can save h i m from his o w n language. Phrases like “ t h e self-realization o f Absolute S p i r i t ” mean n o t h i n g to us, a n d any commentator who simply repeats such phrases is n o t even beginning to

do his o r her job. To read Hegel is t o be bewildered, but also it is t o insist—in our peculiarly vulgar and intransigent American way—on a tangible account o f concrete and current concepts and images. I f Hegel could n o t be taught t o ordinary intelligent people, then I for one would not find reason to read h i m at all.

I have tried t o write a book about Hegel which will serve both as an introduction t o a fascinating but formidable subject and as an appropriately scholarly and somewhat polemical re-interpretation o f the Phenomenology. Accordingly, the book falls into t w o somewhat unequal halves, the first aimed a t non-philosophers and those readers unfamiliar with German philosophy and its cultural environment, the second intended for serious students o f the Phenomenology who are interested i n a detailed reading and interpretation o f Hegel’s various forms and transitions i n his book. I have tried t o include sufhcient quotations from the original t o spare readers the trouble o f having t o shift back and forth between t e x t and commentary, but my intention nevertheless is t o provide something o f an independent narrative, “in the spirit o f Hegel,” which is n o t so m u c h a commentary o n someone else’s b o o k as a n attempt to b r i n g that book to life. I would see n o reason t o write a book about a book which 1s, as Charles Taylor de-

scribes Hegel's ontology, “quite dead.” T h e first three Chapters are a n attempt to provide a relaxed, non-

technical introduction t o the cultural and intellectual climate i n which Hegel wrote his great book. Chapter 1 is a broad stroke survey o f the

history and problems o f Germany around 1800; Chapter 2 is a survey o f German Idealism, beginning with Immanuel Kant and proceeding t h r o u g h Johann Fichte and Friedrich Schelling, w i t h some b r i e f men-

tion o f other figures influential

at

the time. I ask those readers who

are more familiar with German cultural history or the history o f phi-

Preface

Xi

losophy t o bear w i t h m e d u r i n g a m u c h condensed t o u r for the u n initiated, or, better, t o skip directly t o Chapter 3 o r 4 o r 5. Chapter 3

is an account o f younger Hegel (Hegel i n his early thirties) before he w r o t e the Phenomenology. 1 have tried t o capture the substance and the t o n e o f his early writings which, though they may n o t be very important o r interesting i n themselves, serve t o throw considerable i l u m i n a t i o n o n the murkier intentions o f the Phenomenology. I n particular, I offer an unflattering and, t o many scholars, unsympathetic

view o f Hegel's t u r n t o professionalism, marked by his change o f language and drastic increase i n obscurity, i n the years just before he began writing the book which concerns us. My intention, again, 1s t o set the stage; i t 1s n o t primarily t o criticize Hegel (or, by implication, professionalized philosophy) so much as i t is t o c u t through unnecessary obfuscation t o discover the truly fascinating ideas expressed thereby. Chapter 4 is a n introduction t o the Phenomenology itself, but it is also an over-all interpretation o f the book, including a brief analysis o f such central concepts as “the Absolute” and “Spirit.” I n the short initial section o f the chapter, I describe the somewhat urgent circumstances surrounding the book’s composition. I n the second section I attempt t o explain, as non-technically as possible, the over-all p u r -

pose o f the Phenomenology, what Hegel was trying t o do with his book. I t is here, i n particular, that I attempt t o provide a n analysis o f such key concepts as “ t h e Absolute” and “Spirit” and “necessity,” although

my t r e a t m e n t o f these concepts here is inevitably incomplete and continues throughout the book. The third and last section o f Chapter 4 is a n attempt t o unravel the extremely confused s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology. 1 try t o explain why i t is so confused, b u t also why this should n o t worry us. Once more, m y intention is t o set the stage for a reading o f the Phenomenology rather than t o criticize Hegel (or his

many interpreters). To read the Phenomenology with profit and pleasure 1s first o f all t o rid oneself o f some of the expectations w i t h which

one usually approaches a book o f philosophy. The discussion o f the t e x t o f the Phenomenology constitutes Part I I , beginning with Chapter 6. I have set off Hegel's very dithcult Preface with a separate commentary, at the e n d o f Part I , because it is n o t so

much an integral part o f the Phenomenology but rather Hegel's own reflection about its over-all purpose and s t r u c t u r e . Part I I thus begins with a discussion o f Hegel's I n t r o d u c t i o n , a n d the rest o f the b o o k

follows the Phenomenology primarily according t o subject-matter, n o t strictly according t o the table o f c o n t e n t s . Hegel's views about knowledge, for example, are t o be found i n chapters 1-3 and 5 o f the Phe-

XIV

Preface

nomenology, with some extremely important suggestions i n the openi n g pages o f chapter 4. F o r reasons which I defend i n the context o f

the discussion, I have analyzed these various chapters and sections i n sequence, a l t h o u g h they are n o t contiguous i n t h e Phenomenology i t self. I have t r i e d t o focus o n themes rather t h a n attempt a line b y l i n e commentary, b u t i t should be evident that the former depends u p o n the latter, a n d I believe that the thematic approach makes the Phenomenology n o t only more accessible; i t 1s also more faithful t o the com-

position and t e x t u r e o f the book. I n any case, my primary concern is Hegel's philosophy, and, unfortunately, this is t o o often obscured by the word play o f the text. I n the interests o f the narrative, I have tried t o minimize my references t o other scholars and commentators. Where I do disagree it is o n l y t o stress a p o i n t , a n d where I d o n o t i t 1s p r o b a b l y because I

have been f o r t u n a t e enough t o have the benefit o f their knowledge and opinions. I w a n t t o express an enormous sense o f gratitude, for example, t o such scholars as J.N. Findlay, without whom I never could have gotten started o n Hegel. H e will, n o doubt, find m u c h o f what I

say about Hegel disagreeable; nevertheless, his own efforts t o render Hegel intelligible t o the English-speaking philosophical world have made the c u r r e n t apotheosis o f Hegel possible. I am similarly grateful t o H.S. Harris, whose Hegel research has proven t o be invaluable t o anyone i n the field. I am much obhged t o the late Walter Kaufmann, whose own work on “the early Hegel” and whose attempts t o find the humanist i n Hegel so markedly influenced my o w n work. I owe, as always, a special debt o f gratitude t o Frithjof Bergmann, who got m e interested i n Hegel i n the first place. I owe a multiple debt o f grati-

tude t o four scholars who visited the University o f Texas i n the winter o f 1980 t o participate i n a semester-long seminar on Hegel's Phenomenology: Alasdair MacIntyre, James Ogilvy, Leo Rauch, and Charles Taylor. I have learned so much because o f and from my students that I c a n n o t possibly thank them all, but worthy o f special mention are J u l i u s Sensat, T o m Hanley, H a r r y O ’ H a r a , E r i c S a n t n e r , Randall

Hickman, and John Leamons. I have profited greatly from seminars and discussions with Jim Schmidt, who also gave me the supererogat o r y benefit o f his reading and criticism o f my manuscript. Bill de Vries was immensely helpful i n the chapters on Hegel's epistemology. I owe a very special acknowledgement t o J i m Anderson, who encouraged me t o write this book for Oxford and gave me so much help and advice during i t s ten-year gestation. My thanks too t o Barbara Herbich for her energeuc efforts during the final days o f manuscript

Preface

XV

preparation. Gary Shapıro read the manuscript for Oxford and made helpful suggestions. Bruce Ballard was enormously helpful i n the final stages o f production, reading page proofs, and compiling the index. Thanks also t o Tim Donahue for helping with the index, and t o Kathy A n t r i m a t Oxford for her help i n publication. I am indebted to the National E n d o w m e n t for the Humanities for a research g r a n t

i n 1976 and t o the University o f Texas and its University Research Institute for leaves and support i n 1977 and 1982, when most o f the writing o f this book was completed. My final words o f appreciation, however, a r e for Kristine H a n s o n a n d B e e f e a t e r , w h o m a d e life d u r -

ing the writing o f the book so gemiitlich but whose opinions about Hegel are, for very different reasons, unmentionable.

New York

June 1982

R.S.

Thispage intentionally left blank

Contents

XXI References Given Throughout the Text Secondary Sources Often Mentioned ın the Text

Introduction: I n the Spirit o f Hegel

xxii

1

The Place o f the Phenomenology: Against Reading Hegel 3 Backwards Hegel as Humanist 5 Hegel as Anti-Metaphysician, Anti-Epistemologist 7 Phenomenology: The Science o f Experience 10 T w o Hegels

14

16 Hegel's Politics Hegel's Method: Dialectic Hegel: A n Interpretation

21 27

P A R T O N E SETTING T H E STAGE—THE TIMES, T H E M A N , THE BOOK 31

Chapter One The Spirit o f the Times

33

The New World: 1806 35 A Quest for Identity 39 The Use and Abuse o f History 41 Sun and Shadows 45 Romanticism 49 Poetry and Prophecy 51 Nature and Spirit: Hölderlin’s Grand Metaphor The Role o f Religion 60 Chapter Two From Kant t o Hegel

57

64

Immanual K a n t (1724-1804) 70 German Idealism after K a n t 82 Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) 85 F r i e d r i c h W i l h e l m Joseph v o n Schelling (1775—1854) and Das Romantik 96

Contents

XVII

“The Difference Between Fichte’s and Schelling’s System of Philosophy” 107 Chapter Three

Younger Hegel

110

The Vocation o f a Non-Scholar 114 Freedom, Feeling, and Folk-Religion 117 The “Positivity” o f Christian Religion 125 Images from Hölderlin 136 Love and the Spirit o f Christianity 140 The Professional Years: 1801-1806 147 155

Chapter Four (a) The Phenomenology of Spirit The Book Hegel's Approach Hegel's Language

to

Philosophy 163

160

Chapter Four (b) The Phenomenology of Spirit: Its Purpose (“Truth”) 172 T h e Problem o f Truth Reason a n d Rationality

175 180

The Problem o f Knowledge and the Obviousness o f Idealism 182 Idealism and a Note on the New Physics “ T h e Absolute” 187

186

F r o m the Absolute to Absolute Relativism: T h e World as Contradiction 191

Spirit and Self-Identity 196 Science, System, Dialectic: The Problem o f Necessity

203

Chapter Four (c) The Phenomenology of Spirit: Its Structure 211

Hegel's “Dialectic” 215 The Phenomenology as Art: The World as Willful Representation 220 Dialectic and “the Development o f the Concept”

228

T h e S t r u c t u r e o f The Phenomenology o f Spirit o r L a c k o f I t

235

Chapter Five Hegel’s Own View o f the Phenomenology: The Preface 237 Part I : A Preface to the Preface: Philosophical Truth The Preface 243 The (Embattled) Spirit o f the Times Substance and Subject 255 261 System and Science

249

238

Contents

Hegel's Theory o f “Philosophical Truth” Hegel's Method: “Dialectic” 267

XIX

265

Appendix t o Part I : A Glossary o f Terms, Translated into Ordinary 273 English P A R T I I H I T C H I N G T H E H I G H W A Y O F DESPAIR—AN ANALYSIS O F T H E PHENOMENOLOGY 289

Chapter Six Against Method (The “Introduction” to the Phenomenology) 291

Knowledge and the “Things-in-Themselves”

295

F r o m K n o w i n g the Absolute t o Absolute K n o w i n g

302

307 The Question o f the Criterion Knowledge as Self-Knowledge: The Three Voices o f the Phenomenology 311 The Idealist Twist: Knowledge as an Activity 314

Chapter Seven Consciousness and the Dialectic: Hegel’s Theory o f Knowledge and H i s Philosophy o f Science (chapters 1 - 3 , 4 , 5 A )

319

a. Sense-Certainty: Hegel's Revenge (on Russell)

321

b. Sense-Certainty t o Perception: The First “Dialectical” 337 Movement 347 c. Dialectical Interlude: The “Logic” o f Hegel's Transition d. Force and Understanding: Kant, Newton, and the Nature o f 353 Natural Laws 376 e. The Inverted World: The World as Contradiction f. Knowledge and Desire: Hegel's Pragmatic Turn (the first pages o f 385 chapter 4) 401 g. Hegel's Philosophy o f Nature (“Reason” i n chapter 5A) The Dialectic o f Nature: From Things t o Brains and Beyond 413 Chapter Eight Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, 425 and Freedom (chapter 4)

Self-Certainty and the History o f the Self—as Monad, as Cogito, as Everything 429 The Origins o f Self-Consciousness 435 443 Master and Slave: A Parable o f the Self i n Formation Stoicism, Skepticism, and Unhappy Consciousness: Freedom 455 Through Fantasy 457 Stoicism 461 Skepticism “ U n h a p p y Consciousness”

465

Contents

XX

Chapter Eight (a) and the Dialectic

Another Note o n Reason 1471

Chapter Nine Hegel’s Ethics (chapter 5, parts B and C; chapter 6) 480

a. The Meaning o f Life and the Search for Spirit: A 490

Synopsis

498

b. Moralıty and the Good Life

498 Hedonism (“Pleasure a n d Necessity” 5, B , a.) T h e L a w o f the H e a r t a n d the Frenzy o f Self-Deceit (Romanticism) (5, B ,

506 b.) 510 Virtue and the Way o f the World (Pietism) (5, B, c.) Individuality—in and for Itself: The Bourgeois Zoo (5, C, a. and the Jena Lectures)

514

Morality and Sittlichkeit: The Crucial Confrontation (5, C, b. & c.) 522 534 c. Sittlichkeit a n d the Origins o f Alienation (chapter 6) 538

H e g e l o n Family a n d Feminism (6, A , a.)

Antigone, “Alienation,” and “Civil Society (6, A, b. & c.)”

546

“ C u l t u r e , ” T h e Enlightenment, a n d the F r e n c h Revolution (6, B , 1. &

11.) 552 559 “Absolute Freedom and Terror” (6, B, 111.) d . “ S p i r i t Certain o f I t s e l t ” : T h e Postulates o f Practical Reason (6, 564 C)

Chapter Ten The Secret o f Hegel (Kierkegaard’s Complaint): 580 Hegel’s Philosophy o f Religion Hegel's Philosphy o f Religion

584

The Nature o f Religion: The Early Manuscripts 589 The Nature o f Religion i n the Phenomenology (and Later works) The Dialectic o f Religions 597 Natural Religion: The Religion o f Light 599 600 Plant and Animal Worship 601 The Taskmaster (“Artificer”)

Spirit as Artist: Religion as Art

604

“Revealed Religion” (Christianity?)

614

Christianity as “ U n h a p p y C o n s c i o u s n e s s ”

616

Jesus as “the beautiful soul” 622 Religion Revealed 625 Hegel's Humanism as a Species o f Pantheism

Tentative Conclusion: “Absolute Knowing” Index

641

630

635

591

References Given Throughout the Text G . W . F . Hegel, Phinomenologie des Geistes ( 1 8 0 7 ) . Phe-

Phenomenology

nomenology of Spirit, trans. A.V. Miller (Oxford:

or

C l a r e n d o n Press, 1977).

PG

, Encyklopidie der philosophischen Wissenschaften Logic i m Grundrisse. Encyclopaedia o f the Philosophical

(Encyclopaedia)

Sciences. Part 1, Logic, trans. William Wallace

(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1892) der Logik ( 1 8 1 2 - 1 6 ) . Science o f Logic trans. A.V. Miller (London: Allen & Unwin, 1969). , “Differenz des Fichte’schen und Schelling’schen Systems der Philosophie” (1801). “The Difference Between Fichte’s and Schelling’s System o f Philosophy,” trans. H.S. Harris and

— — — , Wissenschaft

Science o f Logic

Differenz-essay

Walter C e r f ( A l b a n y : S.U.N.Y. Press, 1977). , Geschichte der Philosophie, Lectures o n the History of Philosophy, t r a n s . E.S. Haldane and Frances

Lectures

H . Simson (New York: Humanities Press, 1955),

3 vols. , Philosophie der Religion, Lectures o n the Philoso-

Philosophy o f Religion

phy ofReligion, t r a n s . E.B. Spiers and J. Burdon Sanderson (New York: Humanities Press, 1962),

3 vols. , (Introduction) Philosophie der Geschichte. Lectures

Reason in History

o n the Philosophy of History, Introduction only

trans. as “Reason in History,” R.S. Hartman (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, Liberal A r t s Press

—

1953). Hegel's Theologische Jugendschriften, ed. H . Nohl. Hegel's Early TheologicalManuscripts, t r a n s . T.M. Knox (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,

Early Theo. Mss. (Positivity-essay)

1948). Incl. “Positivity o f the Christian Reli-

gion.” , “Glauben und Wissen” (1802). “Faith and

Faith and Knowledge

Knowledge,” t r a n s . H.S. Harris and Walter Cerf (Albany: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1977). ——,

“Naturrechts.” “Essay o n Natural Law,” trans. T M .

Natural L a w

Knox, (Philadelphia: Univ. of Pennsylvania Press, 1975). Kant, 1. Kritik der reinen Vernuft. Critique o f Pure Reason, t r a n s . Norman Kemp Smith (New York;

CPR, A, B

Macmillan, 1958) (First G e r m a n edition = A ; second edition = B). , Kritik der praktischen Vernunft. Critique o f Prac-

trical Reason, trans. Lewis W. Beck (Indiana: Bobbs-Merrill, 1956).

CPrR

, Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten. Founda-

FMM

tions o f the Metaphysics o f Morals, t r a n s . L e w i s W .

Beck (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959). Fichte, J. Wissenschaftslehre. The Science of Knowledge, Wiss. trans. Peter Heath and John Lachs (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1970).

Secondary Sources Often Mentioned in the Text Findlay, J.N., Hegel: A Re-examination (New York:

Hegel

Macmillan, 1958).

, “Analysis o f the Text,” i n Hegel, PG (Miller

“Analysis”

trans.). H a r r i s , H . S . , Hegel's Development: Toward the Sunlight

1770-1801 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972).

Hegel's

Development

Kaufmann, W., Hegel: A Re-interpretation (New York;

Hegel

Doubleday, 1965). Lauer, Q., A Reading of Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit

A Reading

(New York: F o r d h a m Univ. Press, 1976).

Macintyre, A., ed., Hegel (New York; Doubleday, 1972). Plant, R., Hegel (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1973). Rosen, S., G.W.F. Hegel: An Introduction to the Science of Wisdom (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1974).

Hegel Hegel

Soll, I . , A n Introduction to Hegel's Metaphysics ( C h i c a g o ;

Introduction

Univ. o f Chicago Press, 1969).

G.W.F. Hegel

I n the

Spirit o f

Hegel

Thispage intentionally left blank

Introduction

I n the Spirit of Hegel . . . what one generation has brought forward as knowledge and spiritual creation, the n e x t generation inherits. This inheritance becomes its soul, its spiritual substance, something one has become accustomed to, its principles, its prejudices, its riches. . . . And since each generation has its own spiritual activity and vitality, it works upon what i t has received and the material thus worked upon becomes richer. Our position is the same: t o grasp the knowledge at hand, appropriate i t and mold i t . — H e g e l , Introduction to t h e Lectures o n the History o fPhilosophy

This is a b o o k about a book, Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit (Phänomenologie des Geistes, Bamberg a n d Würzburg, 1807; hereafter re-

ferred t o as the Phenomenology o r PG).! I t is n o t exactly a commentary,

and certainly n o t an attempt t o bring dead issues and obscure allusions t o life by means o f referring t o other dead issues and obscure allusions t o which they once referred. My intention is quite literally to re-do Hegel, t o try t o understand what is going o n i n this one great and i n many cases r e f o r m u l a t e his a r g u m e n t s . Sometimes Hegel's arguments can best be explained b y reference t o his

book, t o r e c a s t

contemporaries, notably Fichte and Schelling, and

to

Kant, who had

just died i n 1804. Sometimes Hegel has t o be recast i n a more m o d e r n idiom, revealing insights i n t o problems n o t yet well formulated. I f I a m n o t always faithful t o the letter o f Hegel's w o r k , I h o p e i t will be said that I have tried m y best t o understand h i m , a n d to re-create, ın o u r terms, the spirit o f his philosophy. 1. Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit, a new translation by A.V. Miller, Oxford University Press, 1977. I have also referred throughout t o J.B. Baillie’s once standard translat i o n o f 1910, The Phenomenology o f Mind ( L o n d o n : Macmillan, 1931; N e w Y o r k : H a r p e r

Torchbooks, 1966), and various partial translations, e.g. Walter Kaufmann’s very good translation o f the Preface (New York: Doubleday, 1966) and Kenley Dove's translations o f the Introduction i n Heidegger's Hegel's Concept of Experience (New York: Harper and Row, 1970) a n d final chapter (unpublished.) 1 have used the n o w standard G e r m a n

academic edition o f the Phinomenologie, edited by | . Hoffmeister (F. Meiner: Hamburg, 1 9 5 2 ) . All r e f e r e n c e s t o Miller

a r e paragraph numbers, n o t p a g e numbers. F o o t n o t e

references in t h e Phenomenology will a l s o be a b b r e v i a t e d PG, s t a r t i n g i n Chapter 4.

9

Introduction

Hegel calls the truth o f his Phenomenology a “bacchanalian revel”; i t is, i n o t h e r words, a n orgy o f ideas, a conceptual debauch. Elsewhere,

the book is called a “labyrinth” and a “highway o f despair”; i t does appear t o be a maze o f obscure forms, linked together by w h i m ,

struggling t o reach clarification by devious o r impossible r o u t e s . But whether the metaphor 1s revelry or despair, one thing is certain; this g r e a t book greets i t s e v e r y r e a d e r , w h a t e v e r his o r h e r expectations, as an enormous challenge t o b o t h patience a n d intellect. First, there

is a formidable Preface that begins with an explicit refusal t o coope r a t e w i t h t h e r e a d e r . Then, t h e r e is a s c o r e o r s o o f topics t h a t range from academic debates i n the theory o f knowledge t o the French Revolution, from a parable o f t w o people fighting for mutual recognition t o a commentary on phrenology, from a mystical celebration o f the family t o a critique o f Kant’s categorical imperative. There are references w i t h o u t names, pronouns without referents, a chorus o f nar-

rative voices that interweave as in a fugue and contradict one a n other—all arranged as if they were the result o f a “bacchanalian” t h i n k i n g spree, or, perhaps, o f the despair o f a n author who has too

much

to

say and finally throws his thoughts together i n any order

whatever. Defenders o f Hegel who k n o w the book well come to see

its “logic” and take i t for granted. (“One gets used t o anything,” Camus’s mother used t o say.) But the first thing that is needed, for anyone beginning H e g e l o r still less than comfortable w i t h h i m , is a quick

introduction, an interpretation,

not

necessarily the only one or the

“ r i g h t ” one, b u t a philosophical handle, a way o f proceeding. T h e reader has a right t o k n o w which Hegel h e is about t o meet, t h e g r e a t rationalist metaphysician, t h e Christian apologist, the theological heretic, the philosopher o f “the state,” the proto-radical predecessor o f Marx, the super-professor o f Berlin, an alienated theology student o f Tubingen, the spokesman for the Absolute, o r the precocious proponent o f historical relativism for whom an idea is “true” only for its i m e . Every introduction is already an interpretation; a meeting o f minds may nevertheless be full of mutual misunderstandings. B u t Hegel himself admits o f multiple interpretations, and some o f t h e least i n t e r e s t i n g a m o n g t h e m , i n fact, a r e t h o s e h e provides for us himself.

I n the Spirit of Hegel

3

The Place o f the Phenomenology:

Against Readıng Hegel Backwards I t is perfectly true, as philosophers say, that life m u s t be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that i t m u s t be lived forwards. —Kierkegaard, Journals

Hegel w r o t e the Phenomenology a s a n i n t r o d u c t i o n t o a müch larger philosophical “system,” which begins more or less with his mammoth Science of Logic, written several years later (1812-16).2 During the years in which he was thinking about and writing the Phenomenology, Hegel was also beginning a cycle o f lectures which he would repeat with embellishments throughout his career, eventually t o be published (in various versions) as his Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences (1st ed., 1817).2 T h e easy inference, therefore, is t o take Hegel a t his word,

and view the Phenomenology as the prelude o r o v e r t u r e t o his later work, and t o suppose that its “spirit” is infected i f n o t wholly determined by the professional ambitions he was clearly entertaining a t the time.* B u t that is n o t the Hegel who will appear i n these pages, and n o t the Phenomenology either. Hegel a t thirty-six, whatever his ambitions and whatever his original plans for his project, was alive with philosophy and uncertainty; he was daring and experimental rather than merely reflective, “speculative” i n the best sense o f that word, trying t o understand a world i n chaos. This is a quite different Hegel from the senior-professor a t the University o f Berlin who w r o t e o f 2. Wissenschaft der Logik; Science of Logic. First part published i n 1812 (Nurnberg), second part i n 1816. Translated i n t o English by W.H. Johnston and L.G. Struthers i n 2 vols. (London: Allen & Unwin, 1929), and more recently by A.V. Miller i n a single volume ( L o n d o n : A l l e n & U n w i n , 1969). 3 . Encyklopidie der philosophischen Wissenschaften i m Grundrisse ( T h e Encyclopaedia o f

the Philosophical Sciences) Published first i n 1817 (Heidelberg). Completely revised (and t w i c e as l o n g ) i n 1 8 2 7 a n d r e v i s e d a g a i n i n 1 8 3 0 . The Encyclopaedia h a s s i n c e b e e n e x -

tensively edited by Rosenkranz (1845,1878) and Lasson (1905,1911) and Poggeler (1959) to i n c l u d e extensive additions (Zusätze) based o n Hegel’s students’ lecture notes. N o w i n t h r e e volumes of t h e c o l l e c t e d works, t r a n s l a t e d i n t o E n g l i s h b y William Wallace ( P a r t

I : The Logic o f Hegel, O x f o r d , 1874; rev. ed., 1892) a n d Part 111: Hegel's Philosophy o f

Mind (Oxford, 1894); and more recently by A.V. Miller (Part I I : The Philosophy ofNature (Oxford, 1970). 4 . T h e r e l a t i o n s h i p b e t w e e n t h e Phenomenology a n d Hegel's l a t e r w o r k h a s b e e n a

perennial source o f dispute i n Germany, for example, by Poggeler and Fulde; the comm o n assumption has been that H e g e l was first o f all to be understood i n terms o f the

“mature” philosopher o f the “system,” t o which the earlier work either did o r did n o t s t a n d ın a c o h e r e n t and preparatory r e l a t i o n s h i p . S e e , for example, O t t o Poggeler, “Zur Deutung der Phinomenologie des Geistes” (1961), i n Hegels Idee einer Phdnomenologie des

Geistes (Frieburg-Munich, 1973) and Hans Friedrich Fulda and Dieter Henrich (eds.), Materialien z u Hegels ‘Phdanomenologie des Geistes’ ( F r a n k f u r t , 1976) esp. Fulda’s “ Z u r L o gik d e r Phinomenologie,” p p . 3 9 1 - 4 2 5 .

4

Introduction

philosophy as “the owl o f Minerva,” the great gray shadow that emerges only a t twilight. (Walter Kaufmann, writing o f the later Hegel [after forty] asks, “Whatever happened t o him? We can answer that question in a single s e n t e n c e : for eight long years the poor man was headmaster o f a German secondary school.”) Hegel in 1806 was full of hope; his system had n o t yet become a habit, and the Phenomenology was n o t merely an introduction t o anything, except, perhaps, a new philosophical vision o f the world. The Phenomenology 1s a book unto itself, and i f Hegel originally considered it t o be the introduction t o some larger systematic project he demonstrably g o t carried away with i t . I t was as if, to use the p o p u l a r metaphor of the day, a “demon” took hold o f Hegel as he was writing and

inspired a work quite different from what he originally intended— i n d e e d , a w o r k far t o o radical for h i s (later) more conservative phil-

osophical sensibilities. A n d n o t only did Hegel become more and more

absorbed i n the mad progression and transformation o f forms he was inventing as he drew from every facet o f his experience and his wide interest in history and the classics, but he quite obviously lost sight o f h i s f u t u r e plans, a t least for some time, as i f to catch h i s b r e a t h a n d

look around t o see where he had gone only when he had finished his frenetic journey, when he finally (under duress from his publisher) sat down, s t i l l i n a frenzy, to summarize it all i n the Preface.

When Hegel later moved on, he looked back t o the Phenomenology only rarely, a fact t o be viewed with surprise i f indeed i t was the Phenomenology that s e t u p the entire later enterprise. Consider the enormous number o f self-congratulatory references in Kant’s subsequent works t o his ground-breaking first Critique, by way o f a c o n t r a s t . H e gel refers to his book infrequently, talks about it m o r e t h a n modestly,

and when he introduces sections i n the Logic and Encyclopaedia e n titled “Phenomenology,” there is shockingly little reference t o the Phenomenology even when he snatches entire topics and sections from it t o be inserted in the later “system.” The conclusion I draw from this 5. Walter Kaufmann, Hegel: A Re-Interpretation (New York: Doubleday-Anchor, 1966),

a

bs

F o r example, i n t h e l a t e r Encyclopaedia, P a r t 111, w h e r e t h e s t r a t e g y o f t h e Phenomenology is more o r less r e p e a t e d i n t h e middle s e c t i o n called “ C o n s c i o u s n e s s ” i n t h e 1 8 1 7 e d i t i o n ( w h i c h b r e a k s d o w n i n t o t h e s a m e t h r e e parts as t h e Phenomenology, “ C o n sciousness as s u c h , S e l f - C o n s c i o u s n e s s , and Reason”), b u t t h e word “phenomenology” is used only t o refer loosely t o consciousness as “the subject o f the phenomenology o f t h e Spirit.” I n t h e s e c o n d edition t h e word “Phenomenology” r e p l a c e s “ C o n s c i o u s n e s s ” as t h e t i t l e o f t h e s e c t i o n , b u t i t i s n o t until t h e third edition t h a t t h e p h r a s e “ t h e Phe-

nomenology o f Spirit” actually appears i n the title, and then sandwiched i n between “Anthropology” and “Psychology,” making i t quite clear that, by this time, the Phenomenology is neither the essential beginning n o r the high point o f Hegel's philosophy, but

I n the Spirit o f Hegel

5

is that the Hegel o f the Phenomenology and the Phenomenology itself are quite distinct from, perhaps even a n embarrassment to, the o l d e r He-

gel o f the “system” and the “system” itself. The Phenomenology 1s n o t a n i n t r o d u c t i o n . I f a n y t h i n g , H e g e l ' s p r o b l e m was, t o b o r r o w a n a p t

expression from Richard Rorty: What could he possibly do after the Phenomenology as an encore?’

Hegel as Humanast One may have all sorts o f ideas about the Kingdom o f God; but i t is always a realm of spirit t o be realized and brought about i n man. —Hegel, Reason i n History

The single m o s t important interpretative guideline I can offer is that the Hegel we will m e e t i n these pages is a strict humanist. I use this t e r m i n its predominantly 19th-century c o n t e x t . Hegel is a strictly secular, virulently anti-theological, and more o r less anti-Christian philosopher, n o t a t all the Christian apologist or the theological heretic he has so often been made o u t t o be i n traditional German and English interpretations.® I see Hegel as the heir t o the French and

German Enlightenments, though heavily influenced by what we (not he) w o u l d call “romanticism.” Hegel's romanticism is most evident i n

his over-all goal for philosophy—a sense o f total harmony with the world, a sense o f unity that, i t seems, one may have k n o w n as a child,

and then lost. But i t 1s an essentially secular harmony, a sense o f being “at home i n the world.”® Hegel sees religion i n the service o f humanity, n o t humanity ın the service o f God; he sees God (insofar as we just another discipline o f “the subjective spirit.” Imagine Kant, by way o f contrast, red u c i n g t h e matter o f h i s first g r e a t Critique o f Pure Reason t o a m i d d l e c h a p t e r o f s o m e

summary work, and without even referring t o the original work by name. 7. R i c h a r d Rorty, i n a S y m p o s i u m o n Jacques Derrida, a t the A m e r i c a n Philosoph-

ical Association meetings i n December 1978. 8 . F o r example, see t h e c o l l e c t i o n o f essays p u b l i s h e d t o g e t h e r i n D a r r e l l Christian-

sen’s Hegel's Philosophy of Religion (The Hague, 1970). A particularly lively discussion o f Hegel's “heresies” is still ].M.E. McTaggart’s Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (Cambridge: C a m b r i d g e University Press, 1901).

9. T h e best single discussion o f the “romantic” side o f Hegel is M . H . Abrams, Revolution in R o m a n t i c Literature (New York: Nor-

Natural Supernaturalism: Tradition a n d

ton, 1971). A n analysis o f t h e Phenomenology, i n terms o f this r o m a n t i c m e t a p h o r o f

“alienation and reintegration,” occupies a central section of chap. 4, and is compared w i t h H o l d e r l i n ’ s Hyperion a n d Goethe's Faust. I t is w o r t h anticipating, however, t h a t the

theme of “harmony” and integration Is n o t exclusive t o Romanticism; it also defines the goal o f neo-classicism and, i n such works as Hyperion as well as Hegel's Phenomenology, t h e t w o movements a r e n o t a l w a y s easily d i s t i n g u i s h e d .

Introduction

6

should use that word a t all) as nothing more than human spirit writ large, o r what Hegel calls Geist.!9 Thus, I could n o t be more in disa g r e e m e n t with Charles Taylor, o t h e r w i s e a kindred spirit, w h o c o n tinually makes humanity into a “vehicle” for Hegel's Geist, always a

part o f something “greater than itself.” ! ! I say t h a t Hegel 1s, as a humanist, “ m o r e o r l e s s ” antı-Christian because, since Christianity for Hegel meant Lutheranism, and since many o f the theological doctrines he learned i n the seminary were o f the self-consciously modern and “enlightened” neo-Kantian variety, the lines o f rebellion are never clearly drawn. Hegel used the s t a n -

dard theological vocabulary even when his meaning was entirely different, for example, in his use o f the language o f the Trinity a n d

“incarnation” and even the words “religion” and “Christianity” H e was steeped i n theology a t the T ü b i n g e n seminary, b u t yet referred to

his studies contemptuously as “old sourdough.” His early “anti-

theological writings”!? are very m u c h i n the Kantian mode, the u n -

derlying thesis being that religion is (only) a function and vehicle o f morality and what might blandly be called “being a good person,” and that i t has n o other reason or justification. B u t yet, all the old concepts are still there—the Father, the Son, a n d the H o l y Spirit, redemption, salvation, the Fall, the o l d myths a n d legends. O n e might too easily

j o i n the

vast

array o f English and German c o m m e n t a t o r s from Ster-

10. There is a now standard dilemma regarding the translation o f Geist: “spirit” o r “mind.” T h e former is loaded with religious imagery, the latter sounds too much the epistemological c o n s t r u c t o f the British empiricists. Current scholarship favors “spirit,” and I shall always use t h a t translation here. 11. Charles Taylor, Hegel (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1976) and Hegel and Modern Society (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1979). Since I will be critical o f Taylor’s interpretation, perhaps 1 should say a t the outset that I have found Taylor’ work extremely provocative and pedagogically very useful. My criticism is Taylor’s u n critical acceptance o f Gest, o r Spirit, i n Hegel as something other than o r greater than the h u m a n spirit. T h i s may be t r u e o f Schelling, i n his later works, a n d i t accurately characterizes t h e p o e t i c i m a g e Holderlin expresses i n h i s p o e t r y t o w a r d t h e e n d o f t h e century, but it does n o t take into a c c o u n t the systematic equivocation of Hegel's lan-

guage. M y o w n interpretation, o f course, is also a n a t t e m p t t o resolve that equivocation

by pushing it toward the humanist side, which has the decided advantage, i n addition t o clarity and coherence i n explaining the structure o f Hegel's work, o f rendering Hegel’s philosophy quite alive, as opposed t o “quite dead,” as Taylor finds it. H e says, “no one can believe Hegel's ontology, namely that the Universe is spirit positing itself as a matter o f rational necessity.” I do n o t b e l i e v e t h a t H e g e l b e l i e v e d that either, b u t r a t h e r a series o f theses far more comprehensible and believable. That is what 1 shall try t o e s t a b l i s h here.

12. T h e “anti-theological writings” (so designated by Walter Kaufmann i n his Hegel and i n his “Hegel's Early Anti-Theological Phase” (Philosophical Review, Oct. 1951 (LX.4)) were originally unearthed by Wilhelm Dilthey and published by H e r m a n n Nohl as Hegels theologische Jugendschriften (Tubingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1907), and translated by T.M. Knox as Hegel's Early Theological Writings (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago Press, 1948). T h e first o f t h e s e essays is t r a n s l a t e d b y 11.8. Harris, i n h i s Hegel’s Development: Towards

the Sunlight 1 7 7 0 - 1 8 0 1 ( O x f o r d : Clarendon Press, 1972), who also provides an extens i v e a n t i - a n t i - t h e o l o g i c a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f all o f t h e s e essays.

I n the Spirit of Hegel

7

ling and Haym t o Findlay and (Werner) Marx i n finding in Hegel and his Phenomenology a revision o f the old-time religion, updated in spirit b u t still tied t o the o l d letter. B u t I propose another Hegel, a m o r e

French Hegel, perhaps—in t u n e with (the older) Voltaire, Kojeve, Sartre, and Merleau-Ponty, despite the web o f obscuring terminology from German Enlightenment theology. T h e Phenomenology 1s a grand

treatise i n cosmic humanism; humanity is everything, i n the guise o f Geist, or “Spirit,” and the purpose o f Hegel's philosophy is t o get us t o appreciate ourselves as a unity, as all-embracing humanity, and bring about the “self-realization o f Spirit.” The spirit o f Hegel, despite the letter, is completely opposed t o what Nietzsche called “ t h e other-

worldly” sentiments o f Christianity, whether i n its antiquated incarn a t i o n as cultish m a r t y r d o m o r its m o r e m o d e r n K a n t i a n emphasis

on religion as the “practical postulate” o f reason and morality. Hegel's “Spirit” is human spirit, and if i t includes much more than just humanity (namely, everything), i t is, nonetheless, a belligerently h u m a n -

ist demonstration that this is a human world i n which all is but a stage for our own self-realization.!?

Hegel as Anti-Metaphysician, Anti-Epistemologust There are no facts; only interpretations. —Nietzsche

I n his now classic but deservedly ignored book on Hegel,!* Walter Stace proclaims with great irony that Hegel and his cronies were self13. T h e humanist interpretation o f Hegel has been defended primarily by the Marxists, as w e l l as b y t h e e x i s t e n t i a l i s t s . (Often, as i n t h e case o f S a r t r e a n d MerleauPonty, t h e t w o c o i n c i d e . ) K o j e v e g i v e s H e g e l a d e c i d e d l y atheistic a n d i n t e n t l y political

twist, a n d G e o r g Lukacs, i n his l o n g , sometimes brilliant, often vituperative discussion

o f the writings u p t o and including the Phenomenology (The Young Hegel, t r a n s . R. Livingston (London, 1975); originally published as Der Junge Hegel i n 1948), emphasized the influence o f the British political economists far more than youthful religious influences a n d constraints. T h e F r a n k f u r t School also emphasized Hegel’s h u m a n i s m i n w h a t i s s o m e t i m e s a n e x t e n s i v e i n t e r w e a v i n g of H e g e l and Marx—notably, Herbert Marcuse’s Reason and Revolution (Boston: Beacon, 1941) a n d , more recently, i n the w o r k

of Jürgen Habermas (e.g. Knowledge and Human Interests (Boston: Beacon, 1971)), discussed by Thomas McCarthy i n his Critical Theory ofJürgen Habermas (Cambridge: M.1.'T. Press, 1978). B u t i n A m e r i c a a n d E n g l a n d , largely u n d e r the influence o f Findlay, w h o

is obviously still under the influence o f the older British Hegelians, Hegel has retained an almost uniform religious and more-than-human image. Charles Taylor provides the l a t e s t a n d t h e best v e r s i o n o f t h a t i m a g e , b u t o n e c a n note a t l e a s t qualified exceptions: for instance, Raymond Plant’s Hegel (London: Allen & Unwin, 1973), which again takes Hegel t o be primarily a political figure rather than a Lutheran revisionist; and i n Jacob L o e w e n b e r g ’ s p l a y f u l d i a l o g u e , Hegel's Phenomenology: Dialogues o n the Life o f the M i n d

(La Salle: Open Court, 1965), from which a distinctively humanist and human Hegel emerges. 14. W a l t e r Stace, The Philosophy of Hegel: A Systematic Exposition ( N e w Y o r k : D o v e r ,

1955), p. 43.

Introduction

8

declared metaphysicians who, despite their reading and supposed allegiance t o Kant, “formed a sort o f triumphal procession, proceeding, so to speak, w i t h bands p l a y i n g a n d flags waving . . . to occupy the

citadel o f reality itself.” A n d this has continued t o be the popular view o f Hegel among the positivistically inclined, that Hegel and his “cronies’ ignored Kant completely and made ever more extravagant claims o n the basis o f metaphysics Kant had proven impossible. The charge

is wholly unfounded, and i t is Stace’s insistence on interpreting most o f Hegel a s a repetition o f t h e problems o f t h e pre-Socratics, w h e n philosophy was indeed nothing but metaphysics, dimly understood, that is partly responsible for the post-metaphysical eclipse o f Hegel. (A modern version o f the same model has been argued with far more scholarship and sensitivity t o Hegel by Stanley Rosen.!?) But Hegel is n o t a metaphysician who ignored Kant'’s objections. Indeed, the truth seems t o be m o r e o n the other side, than Kant 1s, in Hegel’s view, far

caught u p i n traditional metaphysics, with his insistence on an unknown X beyond all human experience, a world “in itself” which too

is n o t a possible object o f knowledge. I t is Hegel w h o is the great antimetaphysician,

purging philosophy o f

every vestige

of

“the

thing-

in-itself,” t h e world b e h i n d , o r beyond, the scenes. I t is H e g e l w h o

reduced all questions o f being (or ontology) t o questions about the structures and forms of human experience, and he did so n o t by going back t o the ancients but by carrying modern philosophy—that is, Kantian philosophy—to its logical and radical conclusions. To say that Hegel is an idealist is t o say that, a t every t u r n , he argues that the world is thoroughly knowable, and i t is nothing “beyond” the realm o f conscious experience. The traditional idea that the Phenomenology is a book in metaphysics, a lesson i n how the world really is, culminating i n the ultimate ontological assurance—"“the Absolute”—seems t o me the very antith15. Stanley Rosen, G.W.F. Hegel: A n Introduction to His Science o f Wisdom ( N e w Haven:

Yale Univ. Press, 1974). This is an intelligent but reactionary book, which quite explicitly renders Hegel an extremely elitist and effete philosopher, primarily a philosopher of logic who has been ignored or misunderstood by virtually every philosopher since, b u t who might now be understood—"if philosophy is to survive” —by a few. There is nearly total rejection o f all those influences that might have made Hegel into a human being: childhood fears and adolescent concerns, having g r o w n u p i n a particular society and a particularly exciting and uncertain time, having read authors like Rousseau not w i t h a n eye t o the Absolute b u t w i t h a very real concern for himself, his place i n society

and the future o f what he saw, from his provincial standpoint, as “humanity.” Rosen highlights and celebrates what I find Hegel's most objectionable thesis, “that the highest h u m a n satisfaction . .-. is i n t h i n k i n g ” (p. 31), and interprets his philosophical enterp r i s e , i n which t h e Phenomenology can b e understood only i n t e r m s of t h e Logic, as t h e a t t e m p t t o s o l v e a series o f ontological p u z z l e s l e f t u n r e s o l v e d b y t h e a n c i e n t Greeks.

I n the Spirit o f Hegel

9

esis o f the spirit o f Hegel. Whatever his belated ontological assurances, obscured by metaphors a n d his o w n uncertainties, the Phenom-

enology is a book whose whole point is the rejection o f dogmatic metaphysics, a b o o k far m o r e i n t u n e with the spirit o f the logical

positivists and the more modern pragmatism o f W. V. O. Quine than the ontological speculations o f Leibniz and Christian Wolff. Hegel rejects the very idea o f a single world-view, and though he does indeed give u s w h a t h e considers t o b e the “ b e s t ” world-view, i t is r a t h e r a

meta-view, a view about the correctness o f views, rather than a view

as such. There is no “reality” beyond human experience, and no set reality within human experience—a la Kant—which our concepts and judgments m u s t conform t o . There is just this—experience, and the business of philosophy is t o describe this, i n an all-encompassing way, to m a k e sense o f i t , to recognize what i t is a n d w h y i t has come to be this way. (The working title of Hegel's book was “The Science o f the

Experience o f Consciousness.”) This might well lead us t o the conclusion that Hegel is best considered as a n epistemologist. I n d e e d , I would argue that h e can b e v i e w e d fruitfully in a way that has often been neglected, as a philosopher following the tradition and paradoxes from Locke t o Hume t o Kant a n d Fichte, a l l beginning w i t h Descartes, concerned with the nature

o f knowledge and the relationship between our experience and reality. But, in another sense, Hegel is firmly opposed t o precisely this tradition and its paradoxes, and he rejects the duality o f experience and reality which lies a t its foundations. I n this, o f course, he follows

Kant and Fichte, though he goes further than they do. He rejects the epistemological problems that emerge i n modern philosophy with what Richard Rorty calls “the invention o f the mind” in the 17th century— the idea o f “consciousness” as “mirror o f the world” and the radical distinction between experience “inside” and reality “out there” (“the external w o r l d ” ) . Therefore, one should probably conclude, insofar as this dualistic metaphor and the problems i t entails have all but defined “epistemology,” that Hegel is no epistemologist. What he is,

one can say unobjectionably, is a “phenomenologist.” H e tells us that in his very title. B u t what this means, a century before Edmund Huss e r ] appropriated the word as i f i t were his own invention, remains t o be seen.'® 16. Husserl’s own view of Hegel is largely unlearned and a wholly unjustified prejudice. Perhaps this is due to the fact that he saw Hegel through Dilthey’s eyes, as a

historical

relativist o f s o r t s , b u t n e v e r t h e l e s s h i s s o m e t i m e s harsh d i s m i s s a l s a r e illc o n s i d e r e d , given t h e o f t e n striking c o n n e c t i o n s b e t w e e n t h e t w o “ p h e n o m e n o l o g i e s . ”

10

Introduction

Phenomenology: The Science ofExperience Experience is what allows you t o recognize a mistake when you make i t again. —Earl Wilson

Phenomenology (the word Hegel borrowed from Herder and Kant, among others) is the “study o f phenomena,” the systematic description o f experience, trying t o make sense o f i t and showing i t t o have a c e r t a i n “necessity,” that is, to have certain reasons for b e i n g as i t is. This will strike many readers as a peculiar locution; more peculiar still is the German Idealist understanding o f the need for “reasons,” which includes n o t only the description o f the order and s t r u c t u r e o f our experience but something like a justification o f our experience i n t e r m s of certain purposes. Phenomenology here is t o be distinguished

from those forms o f explanation t h a t t r y to g o “ b e h i n d ” experience,

for example, with neurophysiology and a causal theory o f perception (Locke), or by explaining the whole o f our experience as caused by G o d (Berkeley), or, fancifully, b y a n Evil Genius (Descartes). T h e bus-

iness o f phenomenology, t o the contrary, is t o provide us with the basic rules governing our experience and, for Hegel, t o show u s the purpose o f experience, t o show us what conceptions o f experience are superior a n d better fit this p u r p o s e . ’ I t should be evident that the notion o f “experience” employed here

is a more glamorous notion than one finds in most philosophers, for instance, i n the British Empiricists a n d even i n Kant. Too often, phi-

losophers reduce experience

to

the passive reception o f sensations or,

in K a n t for instance, t o the l i m i t e d world o f observation a n d knowledge. B u t for Hegel, i t is essential t o experience that we are participants, n o t just observers, that we are active n o t only as understanding beings who interpret the world t h r o u g h o u r concepts (as in Kant,

again) but also as living, desiring, energetic, insecure, ambitious beings for whom experience is as much adventure as scientific observation For a good discussion o f this, see Quentin Lauer, “Hegel and Husserl” i n Essays i n

Hegelian Dialectic (New York: Fordham Univ. Press, 1977). 17. The concept o f “purpose o f experience” will seem odd b u t i t w o u l d h a v e b e e n commonplace i n t h e c o n t e x t i n w h i c h

to

the modern reader

Hegel uses i t . I t

was f r o m

H o l d e r l i n , most immediately, that h e formed his sense o f the “necessity” o f certain

experiences. A more familiar way o f talking about this would be o u r own rationalizat i o n s o f uncomfortable o r traumatic experiences i n t e r m s o f “ h a v i n g l e a r n e d s o m e t h i n g from them” o r “having grown wiser o n the basis o f them”; perhaps “necessity” is too

s t r o n g a w o r d for this sense o f h a v i n g gotten something o u t o f o u r suffering, a n d “ p u r p o s e ” makes i t l o o k too m u c h as i f we consciously chose t o suffer; b u t H e g e l i n fact

believed something like this, following Fichte, and “the purpose o f experience,” for the post-Kantian idealists, o f t e n refers to this somewhat machismo conception o f “ p u t t i n g o n e s e l f through s o m e t h i n g ” i n o r d e r t o e d u c a t e oneself a n d i n s o m e s e n s e “ g r o w ” i t . C f . N i e t z s c h e : “ T h a t w h i c h d o e s n o t o v e r c o m e m e m a k e s m e stronger.”

from

I n the Spirit o f Hegel

11

and as much action as knowledge. (This is the inheritance of Fichte.) Contemporary analytic philosophers sometimes look with suspicion on the notion o f “experience,” either because it is t o o technical and restricted (as i n “sense data” o r “ r a w experience”) o r t o o dualistic a n d mysterious (as in “ t h e realm o f e x p e r i e n c e ” o r “ t h e field o f consciousness”). B u t the concept o f experience that we find i n Hegel is i n fact

much more like the familiar notion captured i n the expletive “What a n experience!” or the qualification o f “having experience” (in a career o r in sex, for example). I t does n o t mean the minimal i n p u t o f the senses; it does n o t refer t o some “ i n n e r ” world. I t refers rather t o

those particularly definitive and memorable episodes which throw into high r e l i e f the outlines o f o u r lives. I n d e e d , i f we would l o o k for a

similar concept of experience we would find i t n o t in classical epistemology but i n the much more practical-minded writings o f the American pragmatists William James and John Dewey. For them, experience m e a n t our active participation as well as reflection in the world. I t d i d n o t refer t o some curious “ i n n e r ” phenomenon whose n a t u r e a n d existence were obscure; i t referred t o o u r very m a n n e r o f consciously living, o u r way o f n o t only looking a t but being in the world. T o ask for the rules a n d reasons governing o u r experience is there-

fore

to

ask why w e live and think about our lives as we do. And t o ask

for the purpose o f experience is, i n effect, t o ask the m u c h more

dramatic s e t o f questions which are usually summarized as “the meaning of life.” The idea of making sense o f experience, of course, might be said t o be the c e n t e r o f the philosophical enterprise since and well before the first Greek philosophers. What changes with Descartes is the importance o f the idea o f “experience” itself, and what changes with Kant is t h a t the enterprise is n o l o n g e r ontological, n o l o n g e r c o n cerned with the “true n a t u r e o f things” so much as with what Kant called “the necessary conditions for any possible experience.” This is a n all-important phrase; i t came to r u l e philosophy for years after Kant. I t takes b u t a moment's reflection, however, t o see that the no-

tion “necessary conditions o f possible experience” is fraught with ambiguities. Whose possible experience? The experiences of European intellectuals? Human beings everywhere? Dogs? Bees? Fictional Venutians? Schizophrenics? I f one defines the scope o f “possible experience” narrowly enough, the “conditions” will be nothing other than t h e s t r u c t u r e o f o u r actual experiences; i f o n e c o n s t r u e s “possible e x perience” very broadly—let u s say, t o include the whole o f conscious creation and God too—then the “conditions” would seem t o be wholly i n d e t e r m i n a t e . One w a y o f staking o u t t h e monumental step t h a t He-

12

Introduction

gel takes beyond Kant is t o say that K a n t takes a n extremely narrow

view o f what constitutes “possible experience” and thus emerges with an extremely rigid and limited s e t o f “conditions” or “rules” for experience. Hegel takes an extremely broad and generous view of “possible experience” a n d so comes t o recognize, as K a n t did not, the enormous variety o f possible forms o f experience ( o r “forms o f consciousness,” Gestalten des Bewusstseins'®) and the various “conditions” which make t h e m possible. A n d this means, i n t u r n , that Hegel's

problem—how t o order and evaluate these different forms o f experience—is one that did n o t arise for Kant. A second ambiguity in Kant’s key phrase is the notion o f “necessary conditions”; “necessary” in what sense? N o t , K a n t insisted, causally

necessary (in the sense that a necessary condition for vision is a worki n g retina a n d optic nerve). N o t , K a n t insisted, any conditions outside

o f experience (for example, the real existence o f objects beyond ex-

perience which would cause u s t o have experiences), for we could never come t o know these. “Necessary conditions,” according t o Kant, were those presuppositions that could be logically deduced from the n a t u r e of our actual experience. But it is revealing that this most brilliant o f modern philosophers, when he attempted this “transcendental deduction” i n his great Critique of Pure Reason, failed t o provide a n argument that even looked like a logical deduction—and scholars have been fighting over what he actually d i d provide ever since. The con-

clusion, one might suspect, is that the search for “necessity”—making sense o f experience—was n o t t o be found i n the realm o f logical presuppositions either.!® W h a t makes a form o f experience “necessary,” a c c o r d i n g to Hegel,

is n o t

to

be found in its causal pre-conditions or logical presupposi-

tions, b u t i n the n a t u r e o f consciousness itself a n d also in the context

in which it finds itself. Contrasts in c o n t e x t may render very different ideas “necessary” I n a society in which there is fragmentation and chaos, the ideal o f harmony will seem “necessary,” which does n o t mean that i t follows from chaos o r that chaos inevitably causes a long1 8 . “Gestalten des Bewusstseins” i s e r r a t i c a l l y t r a n s l a t e d b y Miller as “ s h a p e s ” a n d

“pat-

terns” as well as “ f o r m s ” (e.g. Phenomenology, 13,29,89). I will use “ f o r m s ” t h r o u g h o u t w h e r e v e r H e g e l uses “Gestalten.”

19. Scores o f commentators, particularly i n Britain, have insisted o n continuing t o look for such “deductions” i n Hegel, and when they do n o t find them wrongly conclude that Hegel failed, when i n fact he never tried. Thus, Charles Taylor complains about Hegel's “loose” arguments, and J. N . Findlay utters cries o f despair every few sections. Walter Kaufmann, challenging Hegel, asks, “Did Egyptian religion ‘presuppose’ the Enlightenment, . . . the events o f 1789”? K a u f m a n n explains the absurdity here by

appealing t o Hegel's “immense strain.” A more plausible explanation is that he was n o t t r y i n g t o d e d u c e “ p r e s u p p o s i t i o n s ” a t all.

I n the Spirit of Hegel

13

i n g for harmony. I n a society that has just been through the turmoil o f a radical revolution, reactionary ideas become “necessary,” just as, i n a society that has too l o n g been r u l e d by a c o r r u p t ancien régime,

revolutionary ideas become “necessary.” I n philosophy, extravagant idealism is typically followed by a hard-headed realism, which seems a “necessary” corrective, and a too-strict rule-governed moral code is “necessarily” followed by a more feeling-centered, “ i n t u i t i o n a l ” ethics. O n e could, w i t h m i n o r effort, t u r n each o f these claims i n t o a

straight-forward causal hypothesis. But this is n o t what Hegel has i n mind. The “necessity” i n each of the above transitions is retrospect i v e ; l o o k i n g back a t t h e c o n t e x t , o n e u n d e r s t a n d s i t . A t t h e time, i t

may have seemed wholly “irrational,” b u t now, we can appreciate its

reasons. But what is also presupposed i n this form o f explanation (which is not t o say that i t is presupposed as a logical inference) is that we understand that there 1s some aim, some goal, some ideal, some purpose, toward which these ideas are striving. Hegel, i n o t h e r words,

insists that ideas are n o t just products o f the times but ways o f dealing with the times, a way o f accomplishing something, and this all-present ambition, in a word, 1s t o comprehend (begreifen) with its instrument, conceptual understanding (“the Concept,” der Begriff).2? We literally w a n t t o grasp (“prehend”) the world, and n o t only through scientific understanding. A n idea or a form o f experience is “necessary” insofar as it constitutes (what seems to be) a move i n the direction o f m a k i n g sense o f

the world, comprehending it i n one grand and all-inclusive picture. But this i n t u r n raises another complication o f gigantic proportions. Hegel's Phenomenology is n o t so much about experience as it is about changes i n experience, changes i n the forms o f experience, transformations o f the concepts through which we give form t o o u r experience. Total and unified comprehension 1s the principle behind this series o f changes a n d transformations, b u t this is n o t Hegel’ principle;

i t is rather the principle o r goal intrinsic

to

all human experience and,

i n particular, what defines reason (which Hegel sometimes defines as “ t h e search for unity”). Consciousness will ideally o p t for the more

comprehensive and coherent

account

o f experience, but also taking

20. “The Concept” is Hegelian shorthand for conceptual articulation i n general. Sometimes, the w o r d refers t o a specific concept, for example, the conception one has o f oneself as, let us say, a student o r a professional o r a thief. I n its more grandiose usage, “ t h e C o n c e p t ” refers to o u r conceptual facilities i n general, m u c h as K a n t talks about “the Categories” o r “the Understanding” i n general. B u t , making m a t t e r s more

confusing, Hegel also sometimes uses the phrase “the Concept”

t o refer t o one particu l a r a l l - e m b r a c i n g c o n c e p t i o n , namely, t h e c o n c e p t i o n w h i c h h e d e f e n d s as t h e a b s o l u t e unity o f human experience, or what he elsewhere refers t o as “Spirit” and as “the Absolute.”

14

Introduction

into account the particular circumstances that give it particular form. The botanical metaphor helps here: A plant will grow into a certain shape and size because o f its genetic structure—its “internal principle,” b u t only i f the conditions—air, water, soil, sunlight—are adequate. There is n o logical guarantee that i t will d o so, however, a n d

Hegel similarly believes t h a t t h e d e v e l o p m e n t of t h e u n i v e r s e depends on the contingencies of c o n t e x t and conditions—which need not

all be ideas o r i n any sense philosophical.

Two Hegels The sun is new every day. —Heraclitus

As a philosopher o f change, Hegel's prototype is n o t K a n t b u t the pre-

Socratic Heraclitus, the philosopher o f the dancing flame, who taught that only change was real, even i f the change followed a n underlying

logic o r logos we might

not

understand. But here we begin

t o see

the

possibility o f a deep tension i n Hegel's philosophy; o n the one hand,

he is a philosopher whose main claim is t o give us a unified all-inclusive world-view, which h e calls “ t h e Absolute.” O n the o t h e r hand, h e is

the philosopher o f change, the phenomenologist of forms, who appreciates, as Kant and m o s t philosophers did not, the rich variety of forms o f experience and the complex transformations between them. B u t this means that Hegel is n o mere phenomenologist, providing us with a detailed description o r a n encyclopedia o f conceptual forms; h e is also a dialectician, for w h o m the transitions between those forms are a t least as important as the forms themselves.?! But insofar as he wants t o provide u s with a single and, he would add, eternal view of

a unified cosmos—*“the Absolute,” Hegel has t o minimize the ultimate

reality o f differences a n d o f change; insofar as h e stresses the differ-

ences and change he has t o deny or a t least postpone indefinitely the Absolute. And i n d e e d , w h a t w e will find in t h e Phenomenology will b e t w o different Hegels, confronting each other. The first Hegel is the more o r t h o d o x , academic Hegel, t h e post-Kantian p h e n o m e n o l o g i s t 2 1 . I n a provocative article o n “ H e g e l as Phenomenologist,” K e n l e y D o v e opposes

Hegel's phenomenologizing to his standard image as a dialectician, defending the first and r e j e c t i n g t h e s e c o n d . I n t h e contemporary v i e w p o i n t o f phenomenology 2 l a Husserl, this may be defensible, but i n Hegel, I shall argue, the t w o are inseparable. Dove's essay is published i n Warren E. Steinkraus (ed.), New Studies in Hegel's Philosophy (New York: H o l t , R i n e h a r t a n d Winston, 1971).

15

I n the Spirit of Hegel

whose business it is t o establish “the Absolute”—a single all-embracing system o f philosophy that will b r i n g that discipline t o its conclusion, if n o t t o a n end.?? (Hegel is n o t t h e first G e r m a n p h i l o s o p h e r t o w a n t to

p u t his profession o u t o f business, o f course—nor will he be the

last.) That, this Hegel says, is n o t only the explicit goal o f philosophy, but the intrinsic desire o f human consciousness as such. But the seco n d H e g e l is a m u c h more radical Hegel, a “historicist”2® Hegel w h o

sees that the “necessary” m o v e m e n t and transformation o f the forms of experience need n o t be going anywhere i n particular and need n o t have a reachable goal—in order t o have a goal. (One can reach for the moon, a n d try t o love “forever.”) O n e can feel the need to move

on without believing that one will eventually reach a s t a t e where there is n o longer any reason t o move. B u t because these various moves are

all ways o f conceiving o f the world, and there is n o end t o them, and because there is no world apart from our various conceptions o f it, what would follow from this is that there is no way the world is. There is n o single a n d eternal view o f the cosmos. T h e r e is n o final descrip-

tion, no end o f philosophy. I n his later years Hegel remembered his early works only i n

terms

o f the first Hegel, Hegel the absolute idealist, w h o i n the Phenomenol-

ogy established the groundwork for his future professional e n t e r -

prises and established himself as the philosopher in Germany, after Kant. Accordingly, m o s t traditional Hegel scholars have taken Hegel a t his word and read the Phenomenology as a work on “the Absolute,” as another self-congratulatory contribution to the age-old attempt t o end

philosophy

with a

single

definitive

statement,

to solve

all

the

22. I n 1802, Hegel entitles his review o f Gottlob Ernst Schulze: “Outbreak o f Popular Joy over the Destruction a t Long Last o f Philosophy” (Critical Journal of Philosophy, vol. 1).

23. Hegel n e v e r

applied t h e

word “historicist”

to

himself. I n d e e d , he u s e d

the

word

as a term o f abuse against K a r l Leonard Reinhold i n 1801, “so many mummies i n a

museum.” The word “historicism” has been applied t o Hegel with a meaning wholly a t odds with his own usage, e.g. by Karl Popper, but insofar as Hegel was a historicist i n any significant sense, i t was n o t the way i n which he ever thought o f himself o r his

philosophy. 2 4 . W h e t h e r H e g e l e v e r b e l i e v e d this is s t i l l a m a t t e r o f d e b a t e . Clearly, h e d i d n o t believe that he had ended philosophy i n the Phenomenology, for he was just anticipating

what he thought he was going t o do. B u t even i n his Berlin Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy, he ends with a n admonition t o his students: “ I t is my desire that this history o f Philosophy should contain for you a summons to grasp the spirit of the time, which is p r e s e n t i n u s b y n a t u r e ” ( m y emphasis), b u t t h e n , “ i t h a s b e e n a s o u r c e o f p l e a s u r e t o t o have been associated with you i n this spiritual community; I ought n o t t o

myself

speak o fit as i f i t were a t h i n g o f the past, for I hope that a spiritual b o n d has been knit b e t w e e n u s which will prove p e r m a n e n t ” (March 26, 1830, i n Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy, t r a n s . by E.S. Haldane and Frances H . Simson (New York: Humanities Press, 1955), volume 3, pp. 553-54).

16

Introduction

problems and lay bare the s t r u c t u r e of the cosmos, the n a t u r e o f the human m i n d . I n this book, I w a n t t o emphasize the second Hegel, the Heraclitan Hegel, the Hegel o f endless change, a n d what h e calls “ t h e b a d infinity,” r u n n i n g o n without end. This 1s the Hegel who said, in effect, that there is n o unity except through differences a n d there is n o e n d

philosophy. Scholars have sometimes explained away this second Hegel by appeal t o the great confusion and discontinuity o f the t e x t o f the Phenomenology and the pressure under which Hegel wrote it. But this scholarly appeal conflates the contingency o f the cause with the brilliance o f the effect, like explaining away the drug-induced cosmic visions o f a Yaqui Indian by referring only t o the brown powto

d e r that is its cause. What is discontinuous in Hegel's text is n o t just

the t e x t itself, b u t the whole o f h u m a n history, for i t is Hegel who sees, o r begins to see, that i t is the process o f thought that is everything;

its results a r e only part o f the process, and the final result—"“the Absolute”—is a n illusion. For the second Hegel—the Hegel I w a n t t o celebrate here (while giving due time t o the first, more orthodox H e g e l ) — t h e A b s o l u t e i s o n l y t h e d i s t a n t goal, n e v e r t o b e r e a c h e d , o r

else, i f one does reach it, it will t u r n o u t t o be—as in the Wizard of Oz—the motivation for a grand and dangerous journey, the allimpressive vision o f the final solution, only to find, once one gets t h e r e , a f r a u d , o r a t most, j u s t a n o t h e r stage o n t h e journey.?® Or, as

Alasdair M a c I n t y r e has said o f the Absolute, a la Stein, “There is n o

there t h e r e . ” ?

Hegel's Politics The picture o f the state as a product o f his own energies, has disappeared from the citizen's soul. —“The Positivity o f the Christian Rel i g i o n ” (1795)

Philosophers and political scientists who reject, ignore, minimize, o r reduce t o a few dense paragraphs o f paraphrase the whole o f Hegel’s alleged “ontology” often tend t o do so in order t o emphasize his political philosophy, which was i n t u r n neglected o r rendered prepos25. 1 have discussed and criticized this general sense o f European philosophical c o n g r a t u l a t i o n i n my History a n d H u m a n Nature (New York: H a r c o u r t B r a c e Jovanovich, 1979) under t h e g e n e r a l heading, “ t h e transcendental p r e t e n s e . ” 26. T h e image is from Michael Murray, a t Vassar College.

27. I n seminars o n the Phenomenology at the University o f Texas, February 4, 1980.

I n the Spirit of Hegel

17

terously conservative (or worse) by those traditional scholars who treated H e g e l as a great i f heretical Christian metaphysician, uncon-

cerned with such worldly questions. O n the latter view, the Philosophy of Right appears as an afterthought, a distraction; and Hegel's many other political writings—some o f them unpublished—and his political lectures t o his students, from 1805 until his death, are simply ignored. O n the former view, however, these other writings and Hegel’s vigorous treatment o f the state i n the Philosophy of Right receive central treatment, a n d the Phenomenology is interpreted accordingly, as a n

abstract and obscure political text.?® But the Phenomenology is virtually devoid o f political topics. Hegel, like all o f his contemporaries, had rather strong if continuously changing political views. H e was a n impressionable youth when

the French Revolution began across the border (he was then only 19). His unabashed liberalism took a shock as the revolution turned t o terror ( w h e n h e was 22); h e was relieved, i f confused, when France was consolidated u n d e r Napoleon (Hegel was 29). Napoleon crowned himself emperor (Hegel was 33), became the invader (37), a n autocrat (40), desperate (44), a n d finished at Waterloo (45). For the bulk o f Hegel's professional career i n the Prussian capital at the University o f

Berlin, there was the reactionary lull following the Treaty of Vienna, which was particularly disadvantageous t o the smaller German states. While Hegel r u l e d the philosophical roost i n Berlin, the government came down hard o n students and every sign o f “free-thinking” i n the universities. T h i s was the period o f Metternich, the crushing o f liberalism, rigid control o f the press a n d education i n general, broken

promises for reform, secret societies, omnipresent police surveillance, culminating i n a series o f revolutions across Europe i n 1830— 31 put down by Metternich, whose influence was slowly corroded by the beginnings o f the industrial revolution and rise o f the German bourgeoisie and working class. The economic liberalism which Hegel had studied with enthusiasm as a young m a n began to catch hold in

Germany, but only after Hegel's death i n 1831. Hegel had been politically enthusiastic (though surely n o t “active” or “involved”) as a student. I n 1802 he w r o t e an essay on “the Germ a n constitution,” a n d the following year h e wrote a n essay o n “natural law,” a reply to a n essay o n the same topic by Fichte and a subject

o f wide interest among young intellectuals a t the time. While he was writing the Phenomenology he lectured o n the State and the n a t u r e o f 28. F o r example, J u d i t h Shklar’s treatment i n h e r Freedom a n d Independence: A Study of the Political Ideas o f Hegel's Phenomenology o fM i n d ( C a m b r i d g e : C a m b r i d g e Univ. Press,

1976).

18

Introduction

society to his students, a n d so, a t least as background, it makes more than good sense to suppose that there are political motifs i n the Phenomenology, explicitly o r not. Yes a n d n o . O n the one hand, there is

virtually no discussion whatsoever of the State, private property, individual rights and justice, or any o f the other topics that, a t the very minimum, constitute a discussion of political philosophy. Whatever his interests i n practical politics o r even abstract political concepts, these were always secondary i n Hegel's m i n d to interests broadly con-

ceived as “philosophical.” These might include some abstract speculations o n the Roman conception o f individual rights o r the status o f

private property as a subject for Kantian moral deliberations. But, i n the Phenomenology at least, these are by n o means central and not as

such political questions a t all. Hegel was n o t primarily a political philosopher, and t o view him as a political theorist and a philosopher o f the State is t o look a t him through a strained perspective which he would not, at any point i n his career, have recognized.?®

O n the other hand, one could argue that i t is a political dilemma that inspires Hegel’s whole phenomenological enterprise. Metaphysicians might refer t o i t as the pre-Socratic problem o f “the One and the Many,” b u t to so summarize Hegel makes as m u c h sense as to

summarize the complex history o f the Hebrews as a battle against polytheism. I n d e e d , Hegel's central problem i n the Phenomenology is to show h o w there can be some unity i n the wide variety o f customs,

cultures, and conceptual world-views he describes, some of them drawn from his own immediate experiences and those o f his contemporaries, some o f them drawn from his extensive knowledge o f the classics and antiquity, and some a n invention o r a collage o f experiences drawn

from novels, history, philosophical theories, and the popular wisdom o f the time. Hegel's sense o f urgency w i t h regard to this central prob-

lem o f unity and variety, identity and differences, can best be understood through an appreciation o f his own position, as a Protestant G e r m a n growing u p near the b o r d e r o f France i n a predominantly

Catholic province, watching the new world o f the Enlightenment with its s t r e s s on the singular concept o f humanity infiltrate the very diverse cultures o f Europe. Indeed, this imperialistic sense o f universality was

what prompted the German “folk”-philosopher Johann Herder t o t u r n against the Enlightenment and preach instead the virtues of cultural differences. And as Hegel struggled with his German sensibilities, which 29. Taylor, for example, views “what is living” i n Hegel as his political vision. Raym o n d Plant also views h i m this way, a n d so does A n t h o n y Q u i n t o n i n a l o n g two-part

review o f r e c e n t Hegel literature i n The New York Review of Books, “Spreading Hegel's Wings” (May 29, June 12, 1975; i n t w o parts, Vol. 22).

In the Spirit ofHegel

19

he often weighed against the very different sensibilities o f the French, the Italians, the British, a n d others, h e found himself face to face with history, Napoleon, the internationalism o f the Enlightenment,

and the budding wishful nationalism of Germany. Hegel is n o t political, perhaps, but he is nevertheless a young man with his eyes on the traumatic changes wrought on a society that is t o r n between its own archaic traditions and the overwhelming forces of modernism. This is the personal sense o f the Phenomenology. I t is that sense that an individual is o f significance n o t just because he or she 1s “ h u m a n , ” b u t because o f a n identification w i t h a community, a culture. A n d yet, i n the last analysis, we d o identity with the whole o f

humanity and, waxing momentarily cosmological, the Universe itself. B u t this 1s the t r a u m a o f the Phenomenology, a n d the source o f its com-

plexity—an incoherence o f monumental proportions. Here is the personal source o f “the t w o Hegels” O n the one hand, there is Hegel’s sense o f particular contexts, communities, a n d cultures; o n the other hand, there is his Enlightenment sense o f humanity, this all-

embracing conception that had become, i n Kant for example, the key t o morality, rationality, politics, religion, and simply “being human.” There is, again, this extreme tension i n Hegel's Spirit, i n other words,

between his sense o f unity and his sense of differences. A n d I shall argue I n the pages that follow that this essential temperamental t e n sion emerges I n the writing o f the Phenomenology itself, literally splitting the work i n t w o . The incoherence of the Phenomenology, 1 want t o argue, is nothing less than the epic philosophical tension o f the age—something far more important than the lack of organization o f a single philosopher, and something far more earth-shaking than an academic confusion concerning the proper “systematization” of German Idealism. There 1s no single political viewpoint that emerges from Hegel's emphasis on humanity and culture and his de-emphasis of the individual. One could argue (and some have) that fascism follows, but one can also find liberal strains equally essential i n Hegel that would sup-

port an argument for republican democracy or even anarchism on the basis o f a similar supra-personal organic view. Hegel, o f course, was neither fascist n o r democrat and certainly n o t a n anarchist. I n

1806, he was actively weighing Rousseau and Herder, Schiller and the new economic liberalism. But in the Phenomenology there is no particular political vision, even if—for example i n his residual admiration for the Greek polis—there is an implicit attack on the foundations o f m o s t modern political theories. I t is never simply the individual who counts, b u t always a sense o f identity, even a sense o f

20

Introduction

“immortality,” that depends wholly o n one’s conceptual connections

with other people. Hegel’s rejection o f the ultimate importance o f the individual raises a question o f considerable importance n o t only i n his political philosophy but i n the Phenomenology as well. That is the question offreedom. Hegel himself says, o f the Phenomenology, that it is a book about freed o m ; a n d o f his philosophy as a whole, he tells us that it is about the realization o f freedom, a n d the idea o f freedom, from earliest times to the present. B u t what Hegel means by “freedom” is by n o means obvious. H e is very m u c h a p a r t o f that tradition from K a n t t o M a r x

that distinguishes t w o kinds o f freedom, merely “negative” freedom from certain kinds o f restraints, and “positive” freedom to participate i n certain institutions and a c t i n the service of the state. Not without good reason, such liberal authors as Isaiah Berlin have viewed the

notion o f “positive” freedom as a kind o f sham, a crude i f too often successful effort t o disguise authoritarianism as its very opposite. Any interpretation o f Hegel, therefore, is bound t o expound on this curious notion—either, so the tradition goes, condemning it as perverted and dangerous, or trying t o explain, i n benign t e r m s , what it was that Hegel (Kant and Marx, too) actually meant. What I w a n t t o do here, however, 1s t o say very little about freedom in this controversial political sense. I n the Phenomenology Hegel is mainly concerned with freedom i n a very different context, which has little to d o with politics i n even the broadest o f senses. H e 1s concerned

with freedom o f self-expression or self-realization, which, ın a political context, is just as much “freedom from” as “freedom to.” The discussion o f “freedom” in the Phenomenology begins with Hegel's fa-

mous discussion o f the “Master-Slave” relationship, which would seem like a parable o f freedom except for one thing: that discussion turns

o n a paradox according t o which i t is the slave, n o t the master, who comes to realize his freedom, a n d h e does this not i n society o r politics

but through work, first o f all, and a series of philosophies, all o f which have t o do with self-identity and have nothing t o do with political consciousness o r rebellion. Freedom, i n other words, means the re-

alization o f self-identity, for Hegel. The recognition o f one’s identity as a citizen o f a state, as a member o f a political group, is only one aspect o f this all-important a n d extremely complex concept i n Hegel.

Again, we have t o look at the times: Hegel is talking about freedom at a time when whole populations were u n d e r unenlightened auto-

cratic rule, in which the press was brutally censored and the ability o f young intellectuals t o express themselves was sharply curtailed by governments (For Marx, too, “freedom” meant first o f all freedom o f

I n the Spirit ofHegel

21

expression, when he was a censored young journalist i n Cologne i n 1843.) T h u s freedom came to mean first o f all the ability to express oneself, to thereby realize one’s intellectual potential, to seek o u t a n d

argue the truth. But there was another paradox t o be found here. Under foreign rulers, namely the self-consciously enlightened French, the intellectuals of Germany knew that they would be more free t o express themselves and realize this potential than under their own petty princes. This i n itself was suthcient t o ensure that the concept of freedom would have an ambiguous political history and a confused political analysis. A d d t o that the general German tendency to depoliticize “freedom” and relegate i t t o the realm of metaphysics and personal morality—Kant, of course, is the great example,*® and I hope i t is evident that one can talk quite sensibly and unobjectionably of Hegel's use of the word “freedom” t o characterize his enterprise witho u t introducing distinctly political questions (about the rights and duties of citizens and governments)—or a t least, n o t until much later. Freedom, for Hegel, has to d o with identification—how one sees ones e l f (as citizen, as rebel, as stoic, as master, as slave), it is n o t t h e polit-

ical question of societal restraints and duties.

Hegel's Method: Dialectic Dialectic . . . first appears t o consciousness as something which has i t a t its mercy, and which does n o t have its source i n consciousness itself. —Phenomenology

Everyone knows, if nothing else, that Hegel introduced a philosophical methodology which is i n direct competition with the more “analytic” and a-historical methods of deduction, induction and textual philology. I t is called “dialectic.” O f course, we will talk about dialectic

all the way through this book and i n some detail i n Chapters 4b and c and 7b. B u t if I may undermine the seriousness o f that conscien-

tious enterprise right a t the beginning, I will be arguing that Hegel has no method as such—at least, n o t i n the Phenomenology. H e does have

a number of arguments and strategies which might be gathered un3 0 . Nietzsche: "With r e s p e c t t o t h e State, K a n t was n o t g r e a t . ” T h e v i e w o f f r e e d o m

as primarily a function o f one’s outlook was also t o be found i n Johann Herder, for whom freedom was “circumspection,” and even i n Schiller, the champion o f liberty for

all o f the young intellectuals o f Hegel's generation. Freedom is freedom o f thought and expression, and though Schiller hated despotism and aimed his best plays against tyr a n t s , h i s sense o f l i b e r t y w o u l d a l w a y s h a v e s e e m e d d o w n r i g h t conservative, i f n o t reactionary, t o t h e e m b a t t l e d p h i l o s o p h e r s b e h i n d t h e b a r r i c a d e s i n Paris.

22

Introduction

der the same title; but let us be clear about one point from the start. Hegel mentions the word “dialectic” only a few times in the entire book. H e has a t least a dozen different moves which the commentators

have struggled

to

squeeze into a single logical form and a dozen

m o r e that have left the commentators i n despair. Hegel himself ar-

gues vehemently against the very idea o f a philosophical “method,” and in any case trying t o reduce this whole rich and complex process into a series of simple philosophical two-steps makes as much sense as trying t o understand the complex processes o f evolution or organic g r o w t h using only the terms o f pre-Aristotelean biology (an analogy

Hegel might find attractive). But this is

not to

say, along with many

commentators, that Hegel's dialectic is “loose” o r a “failure” o r that

he does n o t apply it well?! I t depends what you think he’s trying t o do. What we do get i n the Phenomenology, that might w a r r a n t i f n o t deserve the name “dialectic” is a metaphor. I t is a grand metaphor,

drawn from biology and Aristotle, via Goethe, o f growth, development, taking shape, moving o n , metamorphosis. I t is a metaphor that

is directly opposed t o the more nuts-and-bolts, matter-and-motionminded mechanical metaphors o f Newtonian physics, though i t still found its place in Kant (the third Critique, n o t the first) and i n Fichte and Schelling. I t is the idea o f the universe as, i n some sense, a living process, growing according t o its inner rules and potentials. I t is a n

image that has its obvious and literal interpretation i n the developm e n t o f the individual, “growing up,” and his or her intellectual development (Bildung—a word we shall see often). I t also has its applicability in the development o f humanity as a whole, though this concept was quite novel i n 1800. We now talk without hesitation about the history o f mathematics o r o f science, o r even the history o f a r t and philosophy, as a progression, literally progress, from one form t o one better and so on, w i t h n o t infrequent digressions, o f course. That is

the “dialectic” of the Phenomenology, a metaphor, the metaphor o f growth and development of human consciousness, writ large.32 But t o call it a “metaphor” is i n no way intended t o undermine its significance. And t o insist that i t is n o t amenable t o formalization or t o the 31. F o r example, Frithjof Bergmann, in “ T h e Purpose o f Hegel's System,” Journal

of the History of Philosophy, 1964 (11.2), pp. 189-204; Kaufmann, Hegel, p. 167 ff.; Charles Taylor, esp. Hegel, p. 164ff.; J.N. Findlay, Hegel; A Re-examination (New York: Humanities, 1964) throughout his discussion o f the Phenomenology; McTaggart (with reference t o the later works); and Alasdair MacIntyre, who interprets Hegel as rigorous but then finds him failing a c c o r d i n g t o t h a t s a m e s t a n d a r d o f rigor. 32. Abrams, Natural Supernaturalism, w i t h particular reference t o Hölderlin a n d G o e t h e as well as t h e E n g l i s h romantics.

In the Spirit ofHegel

23

precision that we demand of untenured professors and graduate s t u dents is i n no way t o deny its importance i n this grand philosophical self-portrait w h i c h Hegel presents to us.

The word “dialectic,” though rarely used by Hegel i n the Phenomenology (65,66,86), has a long ancestry and already played a major role i n German Idealism before him. Kant had used it i n his “transcendental dialectic” and Fichte had used it t o o , structured by the threep a r t “thesis-antithesis-synthesis” formula that is usually (wrongly) attributed to Hegel. ( I n fact, h e h a r d l y ever used i t i n the Phenomenology, o r elsewhere.) B u t the t e r m itself goes back to the Greeks, w h e r e

i t m e a n t simply “discussion.” Plato considered it “the supreme science” a n d that meant, o f course, the dialectic o f Socrates’ dialogues,

the discovery of the truth, through confrontation of competing points o f view and extended discussion. I n the 18th century, however, the term came t o have m o r e negative connotations, a n d Kant’s “transcen-

dental dialectic” was “a logic o f illusion.” Kant showed i n his discussion o f the “antinomies” i n particular that the dialectical application o f reason beyond the bounds o f experience resulted i n contradictions. H e concluded that the method was intrinsically fallacious, that one could n o t know anything about the world i n itself. Thus we have two

directly conflicting notions o f “dialectic”: the Platonic notion, i n

which dialectical confrontation is a means to discover the t r u t h , in-

deed, the truth “ i n itself” and behind appearances; and the Kantian notion, i n which dialectical contradiction is proof (by way of a reductio ad absurdum) that the truth is n o t t o be found beyond the world o f “phenomena.” Hegel's use o f dialectic is a combination o f both o f these. H e agrees with Kant that the use o f reason allows for the creation of antinomies or contradictions, but he also agrees with the ancients that these contradictions are not a dead-end o r a n absurdity b u t rather a clue to the

truth. That truth is, according t o Hegel, that consciousness is capable o f opposing points of view and feels the necessity t o resolve them. T h e dialectic o f the Phenomenology (we can talk this way even if Hegel

did not) is the process o f discovering the limitations o f various “forms o f consciousness,” i n part through the recognition o f their contradictions—both internal and external—and thereby coming t o see more adequate forms of consciousness that resolve these contradictions. This 1s not t o say that dialectic proceeds only through contradictions and their resolution (“thesis-antithesis-synthesis”), and it is t o leave open the central tension i n Hegel's philosophy—that is, whether the resolution o f contradictions ultimately leads t o a single, wholly harmonious philosophy free o f all tensions and contradictions, o r whether the

24

Introduction

resolution o f contradictions, a n d the need to overcome the limitations

o f our c u r r e n t “form o f consciousness,” is a perennial process that never comes to a n e n d a n d never reaches “ t h e Absolute.” What is more, let us n o t assume too quickly that this represents anything that deserves to be called a philosophical method i n any usual sense. I n deed, Hegel seems to indicate over a n d over again (against Fichte a n d

Schelling) that t o impose a method o n a subject matter, rather than t o allow the subject matter ( i n this case, h u m a n consciousness) to de-

velop according t o its own internal necessity, is t o distort the subject matter a n d defeat the very purpose o f philosophy. O f course, one

might call this a “method,” just as one might call total permissiveness a method for training dogs and children or laissez faire an economic policy. But Hegel would rather call i t a phenomenon, n o t a method— p a r t o f the subject matter itself rather than the tool o f the philosoph-

ical observer. That is, insofar as these can be distinguished a t all. I n the Phenomenology, dialectic and Bildung go hand i n hand. Bildung was originally a religious concept, and Bild an image o f God. Bildung was the path o f perfectibility, the ideal, paganized by the Enlightenment t o mean the perfectibility of humanity. Bildung is the improvement o f humanity, through Enlightenment and through unification. I t is n o t just the improvement o f philosophy or philosophers but Hegel, like Aristotle and so many other philosophers before (and after) him, surely did see philosophy and conceptual thought as what was most essential to humanity, o u r “function” o r telos, o u r “spark o f the divine.” T h e r e were n o guarantees, n o assurances that the E n -

lightenment hope for wisdom and the romantic dream o f harmony would ever be realized, and the philosophers of the 18th and 19th centuries were by n o means so “optimistic” as they are sometimes said t o be, nor so blind t o human frailties and stupidities. (Voltaire is a perfect example; he believed i n progress and chastised Pascal for his

“gloomy pessimism,” but n o one has ever been more contemptuous

o f superstition and ignorance—including the superstition o f optimism, i n Candide, for instance.) T h e dialectic o f the Phenomenology,

the Bildung o f human perfectibility and harmony, and the progressive mood o f the Enlightenment ultimately were all one and the same, not

merely a technical plaything o f a few philosophers. They represented the aspirations o f the age, n o t an ascension to God but the “Enlightenment” o f society o n earth, even if no one knew where they were going o r h o w to proceed.

The Bildung metaphor has as its “logic,” however, n o t the deductive necessity that many scholars have searched for i n vain i n Hegel, but n o t mere whim or free association o f ideas either. Hegel speaks

25

I n the Spirit ofHegel

opaquely about “the development o f the concept” (a phrase taken u p literally by both critics and commentators, by the first i n order t o dismiss Hegel as incomprehensible, and by the latter in order t o make Hegel sound even more mysterious); b u t what h e means is simply the changes i n o u r conception o f the world as a whole. These changes,

like the history o f philosophy itself, display a distinctive order, which they themselves dictate, which is n o t t o say that one movement

logi-

cally follows another, nor is i t t o deny that the development o f our present conceptions could have come about quite differently than they did. But there is nothing mysterious or incomprehensible about this notion o f “inner necessity”; every author knows what Hegel means when he says that “the subject matter develops itself.” One begins a novel with a s e t o f characters, o r a poem with a central image, a n d

one c a n n o t cancel or change these a t will. This character can be expected (though not logically required) t o do such and such, and this image suggests another, but excludes that one. Similarly, Hegel’s dialectic o f “the concept” o r “forms o f consciousness” is a n attempt to “ t h i n k through” o u r ideas about the world, a n d about ourselves, de-

veloping these ideas—or letting them develop—to the point where we can see their consequences, their inadequacies, their inconsistencies. A n d by d o i n g so, o u r comprehension “grows,” i t becomes more encompassing, letting us see things we d i d n o t see, letting us appreciate ideas we could n o t accept, forcing us to see connections we had not

seen before. And the goal o f this process, or “Absolute Knowing,”

is to gain a single all-encompassing conception, which makes sense o f

everything a t once. But though this may be the goal of the Phenomenology, it 1s n o t its result; there is no end t o the process o f understandi n g life, while we are still living i t . Hegel began looking for the A b -

solute, but what he discovered was the richness o f conceptual history. Indeed, I w a n t to argue that n o single image has been more detrimental to o u r understanding o f Hegel—or o u r ability to accept h i m —

than the self-congratulatory idea that his philosophy is the spiral staircase upward t o the Absolute, n o t only because there is no Absolute, but because there is no “upward” either, and no staircase. Whatever else their disagreements, the one view o f Hegel's philosophy that seems wholly taken for granted b y almost all the commentators is

the idea that the dialectic is going somewhere; but

to

move is n o t nec-

essarily t o move i n any particular direction, a n d increasingly to com-

prehend the complexity and expanse of the world is n o t always an improvement o r progress. One o f the more obnoxious features o f

philosophers, from Plato and Aristotle t o such modern stoics as Spinoza and Schopenhauer, is their unabashed tendency t o declare their

26

Introduction

own profession, thinking, as indubitably the “highest” human activity, and “thinking about thinking” (or, as many o f these thinkers think, “thought t h i n k i n g itself”) as the very purpose o f the cosmos itself.

But once one steps outside o f philosophy (and indeed, sometimes inside o f it, too), there is n o justification whatsoever for this selfcongratulatory view. To think with increasing clarity and comprehension is an undeniable desideratum of thought, and increasingly t o appreciate both the unity and differences o f what we call “humanity” may be an important goal i n a world which is quickly shrinking, getting more crowded and more violent. But none o f this justifies the arrogant pretentiousness o f some philosophers, that philosophy alone

is the answer t o the world’s problems, and that thinking itself is what makes us uniquely “human.” Hegel may have believed these things, but the Phenomenology presents us with a very different image; the dialectic is more o f a panorama o f human experience than a form o f cognitive ascension. I t has its definite movements, even improvements, b u t it is the journey, not the final destination, that gives us o u r

appreciation o f humanity, its unity and differences. A n d if, as i n Goethe's Faust, there is a sudden but unanticipated divine a c t of salvation a t the very end o f the drama, this is more poetic license than the conceptual climax o f all that has gone before it. Growing does n o t mean “growing up,” and any morbid sophomore can tell you that every step along the path o f life is also a step toward death as well. B u t the dialectic o f the Phenomenology also suggests an-

other biological metaphor, less botanical and more carnivorous than the “growth” metaphor; i n fact, i t is downright cannibalistic. I t is the picture that we get throughout the Phenomenology (there is a great

deal of oral imagery) o f consciousness as voracious, as “gobbling u p ” (Hegel’s term) everything it confronts. B u t it does this, not necessarily

by physical subjugation (though sometimes this, too), but through conceptual comprehension (begreifen), indeed by naming. Thus JeanPaul Sartre tells us i n his autobiography The Words that he took possession o f objects by writing about them, and the ancient astrologers sought t o conquer the heavens (4000 years before the Apollo X I mission) through simple understanding. Adam, Hegel tells us, “showed his dominance over the animals by naming them.”?? Thus there is a kind of conceptual imperialism i n Hegel's Phenomenology, itself a product o f the Enlightenment a n d the whole o f Christianity, a cannibalistic

consciousness that insists on assimilating everything, i n particular, 33. I n Hegel's “Differenz-essay” o f 1801. ( “ T h e Difference Between Fichte’s and Schelling’s System o f Philosophy,” translated by W. C e r f a n d H.S. Harris, S.U.N.Y. Press,

1977), p. 85.) Also i n his lectures o f Winter 1803.

I n the Spirit ofHegel

27

everything “human.” Thus what can too easily be viewed as the banality of “humanism” becomes i n Hegel a voracious arrogance, which Claude Lévi-Strauss (criticizing neo-Hegelian Jean-Paul Sartre) calls “transcendental humanism,” and which I have elsewhere called “ t h e

transcendental pretense.”** This 1s the view that all o f “humanity” can be understood in our own image and in our terms. Hegel's dialectic will “stop at nothing”—or rather, i t will n o t stop until i t has encom-

passed everything. I n the Phenomenology, a t least, the transcendental pretense is more than balanced by Hegel's appreciation o f differences. B u t i n “the Absolute” and in what is often made o u t o f Hegel, the entire cosmos is made over into a function o f the Spirit o f German

philosophy. That is n o t a “higher synthesis,” as the jargon goes; it 1s European cultural imperialism and a historical rationale for murder.

Hegel: A n Interpretation Theoretical work, I a m more convinced each day, brings to the world

more than practical work; once the world o f ideas is revolutionized, a c t u a l i t y c a n n o t remain as i t is. —Hegel, l e t t e r t o Schelling

The Hegel who will emerge from the following pages and from the Phenomenology 1s a very humanist (and human) Hegel. H e 1s an antireligious and anti-metaphysical proponent o f the varieties o f human experience, a conceptual anthropologist rather than an ontologist.3® H e 1s n o t particularly political but he knows what is going on and is visibly affected by it. H e has a keen sense o f our each having been “thrown” into a world n o t o f our own choosing, but we are responsible thereby for making sense o u t of it. We are raised i n a particular culture and with our own narrow views o f the world which we are taught almost inevitably t o be uniquely “true,” only t o find ourselves, at some point i n o u r lives, facing a world which is n o longer familiar

or simple—and we have t o understand these breakdowns and, i f possible, transcend them. That is the Hegel I find m o s t appealing, the Hegel who will be found here. H e is an “existentialist” o f sorts, as Merleau-Ponty argued some twenty-five years ago, in the sense that 34. C l a u d e Lévi-Strauss, The Savage M i n d (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago Press, 1966),

ch. 9. 35. T h e term “anthropologist” was applied by Klaus Hartmann t o Leewenberg’s conception o f Hegel (with which I am here i n basic agreement). Hartmann himself has d e v e l o p e d o n e o f t h e m o s t t h o r o u g h r e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s o f H e g e l as a non-ontologist, a

piece o f which is t o be found i n his essay, “Hegel: A Non-Metaphysical View,” i n Alasd a i r M a c I n t y r e (ed.), Hegel (New York: Doubleday-Anchor, 1972).

28

Introductio n

he insists that we now make for ourselves the meaning which as child r e n we once took for granted in the world and that we are ultimately

responsible for the way the world i s . ” What we do n o t get o u t o f Hegel, o f course, is that o t h e r “existentialist” tenet, o f individual free-

dom o f choice, but neither does he i n any way preclude this freedom. Indeed, i t is no mistake that such outspoken champions o f individual freedom and responsibility as Jean-Paul Sartre and Maurice MerleauPonty remained unabashed Hegelians throughout their “existentialist” careers; a n d Sgren Kierkegaard, the first existentialist, was simply

mistaken when he viewed Hegel as the ultimate collectivist and rationalist who had taken the risk and the passion o u t o f our existence a n d replaced t h e m w i t h his “system.” For Hegel, too, the universe was fragmented and torn, but Hegel insisted that we must attempt to mend

it. Quite t o the contrary o f ignoring passion and subjectivity, Hegel argued that every generation m u s t see the whole o f human history as a gigantic drama, a stage o n which we are ready to begin what may

be the definitive act.?’ Hegel may have little t o say about the “existential” dimension o f

turn out to

o u r lives in the individual sense; where h e presents us with personal

dilemmas—the tragic dilemma o f Antigone, for example—he treats them as a step i n a process, w i t h o u t individual resolution. B u t yet

there is another side o f this picture, which Kierkegaard i n his intense individualism would n o t consider—the motion o f collective responsibility and self-determination, leading u p t o and including the selfrealization and universal unity o f humanity, in all its variations, as a whole, a t one with the universe. Whatever he may have said later on, Hegel's Phenomenology is no treatise on passive resignation, but a call t o action—if first o f all (but n o t only, as Kierkegaard charged) i n thought. A n d if, i n his successful years i n Berlin, the “dialectic” became a tired formula, i n 1806 i n the Phenomenology, i t is full o f hope a n d enthusiasm, taking the reconcihation o f the warring factions o f humanity n o t as a foregone o r inevitable conclusion b u t as o u r comm o n a n d shared goal, a genuine possibility, t o which we had never before been so close. T h e Phenomenology is a summons t o the world—

i n unappealing philosophical prose, perhaps—for a mutual apprecia36. M a u r i c e Merieau-Ponty, “Hegel's Existentialism,” i n Sense and Non-Sense trans.

Hubert and Patricia Dreyfus (Northwestern Univ. Press. 1964), pp. 63-70. 37. Klaus H a r t m a n n uses t h e f a m i l i a r example o f Proust, w h o has his character sit

down i n the last chapter to write the novel which i n fact we have been reading. A contemporary example o f the same ploy is Gabriel Garcia Marguez, One Hundred Years of Solitude, a n d , o f course, several dozen films, for instance R o b e r t Hamer’s K i n d Hearts a n d Coronets i n 1 9 4 9 . B u t t h e v i e w t h a t t h e definitive a c t m u s t b e t h e w r i t i n g o f a b o o k

is, again, a distinctively i n t e l l e c t u a l pretense a n d not, I s h o u l d argue, essential to t h e H e g e l i a n viewpoint as such.

I n the Spirit ofHegel

29

tion o f differences a n d a t the same time a sense o f common spiritual

unity. I t is a view o f self-identity that rejects the autonomy o f the

isolated individual, but it also rejects the banal and contentless concept o f “a human being.” I t is full o f appreciation for what is still platitudinously called “the human family,” in which (as Marx was t o dream, too, a half-century later) each individual can realize his or her full potential, as a n artist, a worker, a family member, a n d as a citizen.

We create oppositions and conflicts, and we can transcend them. The Phenomenology is an inspiring picture; it can easily be turned into a n insipid one. B u t o u r suspicions betray o u r o w n disillusionm e n t and cynicism, which the older Hegel would have shared with

us. I n 1806, however, Hegel was dealing with an international situation unprecedented in the history of the modern world, which certainly seemed, a t the time, apocalyptic. H e was the citizen o f a nonnation whose sense o f impotence makes our own sense o f powerlessness seem self-induced b y contrast. A n d most o f all, i n 1806, with the world a t war, Hegel was reminding himself and everyone else o f the

grand importance o f ideas, o t the way philosophy gives life a perspective a n d can be a source o f inspiration a n d meaningfulness. H e did not think that philosophy was everything, b u t at least h e saw it as something. What a t e l l i n g contrast t o o u r o w n times, w h e n college stu-

dents argue “the absurdity of human existence” because gasoline prices are climbing toward the two-dollar mark, and when philosophers argue amongst themselves solutions t o technical problems which they themselves have invented and soon will abandon without consequence. I n a world that has come to see ideas and collective enthusiasm with horror, Hegel becomes a gateway to a new world, where ideas are the

key t o conciousness, where the philosopher becomes the spokesman for the times and the prophet o f a united humanity. I t is a world i n which archaic terms like “harmony” and “humanity” still make sense—

indeed, still give us something t o hope for. I t is a world worth, a t least, considering.

Thispage intentionally left blank

Part One Setting the Stage—the Times, the Man, the Book

Thispage intentionally left blank

Chapter One The

Spirit o f

the Times

The philosophy of history is nothing other than an approach t o history as the product o f reason . . . T o h i m who looks with a rational eye, history in term presents its rational aspect. —Hegel, Philosophy of History

History unquestionably is conspiratorially manipulated from time

to

time, but even i f i t weren't, we would want to think so, hoping against

hope that a secularized world can still, however dreadfully, make sense. I f the C I A did not exist, it would probably be necessary t o invent it, along with International Communism, Zionism, the Mafia, the PLO, the J o h n Birch Society, O P E C a n d bankers. —Thomas R. Edwards,

NYRB, Feb. 8, 1979

Philosophy is the expression o f its culture and its time. This was certainly Hegel’s view, a n d i t is only fitting, if n o t also true, that we should

view his philosophy i n just the same way. Hegel describes his own epoch as “a period o f transition.” So, I suppose, is every epoch, every year, every millisecond. But i n that short fifteen years between the French Revolution and the march o f Napoleon across the face o f Europe, the description acquires a special

poignancy. Hegel's world was i n a state o f chaos. What is m o s t signific a n t for us, however, is how Hegel and his friends experienced that chaos. Not as apocalypse, despite the imminent destruction of Germ a n society as i t h a d existed for four centuries. N o t as insanity, de-

spite the presence of battles and bloodshed on a scale hitherto unknown i n the world. Not with despair, despite the fact that Hegel makes i t very clear that the future—which he always abstains from predicting— is the great “Unknown.” Hegel describes what h e sees as the “ b i r t h o f a new world,” a “burst

of sunlight,” the beginning of the final realization of the human Spirit, “the Absolute,” or i n simpler terms, the age-old ideal of “the pertectibility o f humanity.” Whatever else the word “Spirit” (Geist) means i n Hegel's philosophy, i t first o f all signifies its ordinary English meaning, “spirited,” lively, a shared sense o f movement, purpose, and unity. 33

34

Setting the Stage

We should begin, therefore, with an obvious i f unflattering contrast. I n the midst o f o u r own society with a standard o f living and sense o f

security unknown i n the history o f the world, the “spirit o f our times” is anything but spirited. Our sense o f aimlessness and fragmentation, so evident i n o u r popular literature as well as the more successful philosophical movements o f the century, is i n marked contrast with

the enthusiastic i f also anxious optimism that permeates Hegel's Phenomenology and the other literature of the time. Many o f today’s s t u dents seem t o think that “ t h e h u m a n condition is absurd,” t o use one

of their most common melodramatic phrases, because there 1s an “energy crisis,” inflation, the prospect o f a less than exhilarating job, some

vague apprehension of nuclear disaster, and the over-all banality o f television programming. Hegel, anticipating the obliteration o f the world h e knew, was already celebrating the birth o f a new one.

To understand Hegel, then, begins with an understanding of that sense o f awakening that is now so far from o u r o w n attitudes. Whatever else the pretentious t e r m “Absolute” will designate i n his philos-

ophy, i t first o f all connotes confidence, certainly

not

omniscience, as

his critics have sometimes suggested. I t is the sense that we d o have

knowledge and are learning ever more; i t is the sense that life has meaning, even i n the face o f Napoleons Continental armies, i n the face o f death, a n d perhaps, too, the death o f God. I t 1s a sense o f the

inevitable triumph of humanity and the meaning of human life. This sense o f meaning, however, is surely n o t t o be found o n a purely i n d i v i d u a l basis. Again, this is in m a r k e d contrast to o u r o w n non-

negotiable passion for the integrity of the individual person. But i n those turbulent times, with a million men and more on a single field o f battle, anonymously distinguished only by the color o f their uniforms a n d the shape o f their hats, similar i n the color o f their freely

flowing blood and the fear i n their loins, the individual could hardly be thought t o c o u n t for much. I n fact, even whole societies were dwarfed i n this cosmic spectacle, so that the difference between Saxon a n d Prussian, Polish a n d Russian, depended far m o r e o n the daily

o f t e n u o u s and often broken treaties than the cultural distinctions upon which they prided themselves. The meaning of all o f this,

status

given the insistence o n finding one, c o u l d only be found o n the level

o f humanity as a whole. We t o o l o o k at history, trying t o find within i t some basis for hope.

We no longer see the beneficence o f God’s creation. We c a s t our jaded eye at science, n o longer a n unqualified source o f pride. We admire the history o f a r t b u t hardly see i t as the source o f the meaning o f history. We t o o m i g h t describe history, as Hegel d i d , as a “slaughter-

The

Spirit o f the Times

35

bench.” But where he found hope, we find absurdity and stupidity. Where h e discovered a sense o f Providence, we manufacture a sense

of conspiracy. Where he joined a generation of German literati i n announcing the “redemption” of humanity, our intellectuals disagree mainly about the precise course o f the impending apocalypse. The images are religious, but the impulse is thoroughly secular and humanist, the perfection (“realization”) o f humanity (“spirit”). We assume as o u r d o g m a the priority o f the individual—and the individual

freedom, individual rights, individual happiness. We reject as anathema what we take t o be the authoritarianism entailed by the Hegelian view o f a spiritual, unified humanity, and we reject as absurd the optimism with which he presented that view. But is his collective euphoria to be so easily despised, if the alternative is o u r o w n desperate isolation a n d sense o f absurdity? I a m not going t o try t o answer that

question i n this book, but I

at

least w a n t

to

try

to

understand it. A n d

that means, first o f all, getting a sense o f a period and its outlook which n o w seems as foreign to o u r o w n as the world o f the ancient

Greeks, t o which Hegel so often appeals.

The N e w World: 1 5 0 6 Ours is a b i r t h - t i m e a n d a period o f transition t o a new era. Spirit has broken w i t h the world i t has h i t h e r t o inhabited . . . ( I t ) is never a t rest

tion

but always engaged i n moving forward . . . and ın its formaslowly and quietly into its new shape, dissolving bit by

matures

b i t t h e s t r u c t u r e o f i t s p r e v i o u s w o r l d . —Phenomenology

The Emperor—this world-soul—riding through the city . . . I t is indeed a wonderful feeling t o see such a n individual who . . . sitting o n a horse, reaches o u t over the world a n d dominates it . . . —Hegel, letter t o Niethammer (1806)

I n 1806, the year that H e g e l wrote most o f his Phenomenology, the

world—or a t least the European theater o f the world—was in a state o f total confusion. The English Revolution had undermined the divine right o f kings; the French Revolution had eliminated the monarch himself. The legitimacy of governments was now openly challenged. The Enlightenment had undermined the Divine Himself. The existence o f God, o r a t least, His significance, was now open t o question. A n empire t h a t had s u r v i v e d a t h o u s a n d years—at least i n name, was about t o c o m e t o a m o s t undignified end, n o t so much conquered

36

Setting the Stage

as simply extinguished, like a half-dead campfire, only a few of its coals, scattered across the ground, still showing any fire a t all. Germany was not yet Germany, the most powerful and prosperous nation in Western Europe; i t was 234 fragmented petty states and

principalities, many of them still medieval i n their temperament if “enlightened” i n their pretensions. They considered themselves part o f the “East,” a synonym for “backward” through most o f the “West.” They were ruled by small-minded tyrants of varying degrees of incompetence, a n d they were still devastated, b o t h morally and economically, from the Thirty Years War, which h a d ended m o r e than

150 years earlier.

By 1806 Napoleon had crushed the forces combined against him, brought mighty Prussia t o her knees, unceremoniously absorbed the former “Holy Roman Empire” and installed himself as its new Charlemagne. H e consolidated many of the scattered German principalities into a single “Confederation o f the Rhine,” with new and enlightened rules o f government, the Napoleonic code o f laws and the new

and revolutionary promises o f “liberty, equality, fraternity.” After years of despair and looking in envy across the French border, the hope o f a modernized and revitalized Germany had become a very real possibility. And with it, the hope o f a united, peaceful, and prosperous Europe.

Only a few years later, there would be “Wars o f Liberation” against Napoleon. B u t at the t u r n o f the century, he was still the liberator.

Whatever their doubts—and there were reasons for doubt even before 1806 —young Germans saw him as their instrument o f destiny, clearing away the c o r r u p t and stagnant structures o f still feudal Germany t o m a k e room for the bright new world. I n 1802, one o f the

princes o f the new Confederation summarized the widespread attitude: “This extraordinary man, who brought order o u t o f the an-

archy o f France . . . has the greatness o f soul that is needed t o rise above being merely the benefactor o f a single nation t o become the benefactor o f mankind”! O f course, Napoleon used the German Confederation merely for his o w n convenience, as a buffer against Prussia and the Austrian

empire i n the East. H e gave the Germans their strength and a u t o n omy but he made sure that they remained wholly dependent on France. Whatever his motives, however, the results were real enough, a n d if

Hegel t o o had his doubts when he watched “this world soul on horseback” parade with his troops t h r o u g h Jena, h e already k n e w h o w to 1. See H a n s K o h n , The M i n d of Germany ( N e w York: H a r p e r Torchbooks, 196x), esp. chs. 1 a n d 2.

37

The Spirit of the Times

distinguish between the personal ambitions o f such “world historical individuals” and the “cunning of reason” which used them for its own purposes. Besides, Hegel had grown u p i n Stuttgart, near the French border, i n the duchy o f Wiirttemberg and thus an integral part o f the Rheinische Confederation. I n Wiirttemberg, loyalty t o Napoleon ran especially high, continuing even through the Wars o f Liberation. To distinguish the e x t e n t t o which this was political expediency from the degree o f genuine gratitude presumes a dubious clarity in human motivation. What is clear, however, is that Hegel carried that sense o f Napoleon’s importance even t o Berlin, and when Napoleon was exi l e d to St. H e l e n a a n d Europe entered “ t h e Reaction,” H e g e l ex-

pressed i n n o uncertain terms his sense o f disillusionment. B u t i n

1806, the new world was just beginning, and Napoleon was the instrument w h o h a d m a d e i t possible. I t was a w o r l d that h a d l o n g been

defined by philosophers, whom Hegel considered (with the poets and playwrights) the “consciousness” o f humanity, and i t could be understood, i n one important sense, only i n t e r m s o f the new philosophy o f humanism, self-realization, a n d freedom. T h e vehicle o f salvation,

however, would certainly be the new culture o f a revitalized Germany, n o t the armies o f France. The new German sense o f mission was expressed by virtually every German writer o f the period, but by no one more eloquently than Johann Goethe, who was largely responsible for the cultural rebirth that made that sense of mission possible.2 “When I was 18,” Goethe later said, “Germany was only 18 herself.” H e had then been part o f the Sturm und Drang ( “ S t o r m and Stress”) movement o f the 1760s a n d "70s; his sentimental novel, The Sorrows of Young Werther (1774) h a d

been an international best-seller and a first contribution t o what Goethe called “world literature.” I t was a German soap opera that caught the feelings o f all o f Europe, a private emotional purge that announced the romantic adolescence o f a new Germany and symbolized the sen-

timental unity o f human n a t u r e . Goethe, like Hegel and Napoleon, was a “world historical individual” who pursued the goals of the hu2. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749 (Aug. 28)-1832. Indeed the of

Hegel's l i f e t i m e ,

exact

period

1 7 7 0 - 1 8 3 1 , is often called Goethezeit, Goethe's time, a n d h e is m o r e

a model for the “spirit o f the times” than any m o v e m e n t or political concern. Hegel's Phenomenology is more like Faust (not published i n full until after Goethe’s death) than any o t h e r w o r k . Goethe’s o w n r i c h a n d varied life, as a conservative a n d libertine, as a y o u n g lawyer a n d as author-autocrat o f Weimar, as a n artist, a scientist, a n d above all, a poet, has often been compared t o the r i c h a n d varied experience o f Germany from

the first waves o f chauvinism and sentiment with the poet Klopstock t o the beginnings of militaristic nationalism. Goethe, the cultural representative o f 18th-century Germany, displayed an intense sense o f local loyalty coupled with a global sense o f mission, a keen sense o f personal freedom expression coupled w i t h an almost reactionary sus-

picion o f all political activism.

38

Setting the Stage

man Spirit while expressing his own needs (“if I didn’t write poems, I would perish”) i n the cultural idiom of his own language. Humanity was one, but i t was only i n the diversity o f cultures that this unity could be realized. Goethe’s greatest work would n o t appear for many years, but when i t did, Faust would summarize n o t only the new German aspirations b u t the n a t u r e o f human life as such. Faust was not just the story o f a

German medieval magus who bargained his soul with the devil. Goethe often said that a “ d e m o n ” h a d entered into h i m , and forced h i m to

write just as i t forced Napoleon toward his obsessive and ultimately self-destructive conquests. The “demon” was the dark and picturesque image of what Hegel would call “Spirit,” but his appearance as Mephistopheles in Faust appealed t o future generations far more than Hegel's “cold” concepts. Both are concerned with a central theme: the ceaseless struggle and striving of life, “never a t rest” Hegel says i n his Preface, tenuously leaping from one uncertain experiment t o the next. I t was an appropriate theme for the new century; t o r e s t c o n t e n t i n a restless world was damnation; the struggle itself, salvation.®

Goethe believed that Germany had little role i n the new political order. H e disdained the Wars of Liberation as pointless vanity, and he too remained loyal t o “his Emperor” even through Waterloo and the Treaty of Vienna. The virtues of Germany, he argued, were cultural, n o t political: The Germans should be dispersed throughout the world like the Jews, i n order t o develop all the good that is i n them for the benefit o f m a n k i n d . — l e t t e r to Miller (1808)

(Hegel h a d used the same comparison i n 1800, i n a n unpublished

essay). The German mission, I n other words, was the cultural redemption of humanity. Goethe’s combination o f cultural nationalism and ideological internationalism, although by no means universal i n Germany, points t o the single issue that was foremost i n the German consciousness: how can a people develop and distinguish themselves, in other words have a culture, without cutting themselves off from the r e s t of the world? H o w can a people be unique b u t at the same time wholly human? I f we are t o understand the hopeful b u t defensive s t a n c e o f these questions, we m i g h t well translate it into o u r o w n times, for example, the

struggle now waged i n the United States by Blacks, Chicanos, and Indians. Ultimately, i t is a question n o t of c u s t o m s and habits, surely 3. See M . H . A b r a m s , Natural Super-Naturalism, for a good discussion o f this comparison. 1 have discussed it at some and 11.

length i n my History

a n d H u m a n Nature, e s p .

chs. 7

The Spirit of the Times

39

n o t o f race, b u t respect. T o emphasize a model o f “humanity” i n which one becomes a second-class person is, for us, intolerable, b u t if becoming wholly “ h u m a n ” means sacrificing one’s culture, that is, one’s

identity, that is also intolerable. I n 1806, t o be “cosmopolitan” was t o be French, just as t o be “American” today still approximates white, Protestant middle-class. Politically, Germany was a pawn on the map o f Europe. Goethe’s emphasis o n German culture, then, was not just a writer praising his o w n pursuits, b u t an attempt t o c r e a t e a German identity in the realm o f the possible, which was to say, n o t i n politics b u t i n poetry.

A Quest for Identity I t doesn’t take much t o see that the problems o f three little people don’t amount t o a hill 0 ’ beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand. —“Rick” i n Casablanca

One o f Hegel's often-repeated technical phrases is “the universal actualized through the particular” Whatever deeper meanings that phrase may reveal as metaphysics, it had a n extremely tangible significance

in the quest for self-identity that pervaded Germany i n these crucial years. Ultimately, i t may be that each o f our identities is simply t o be “ a human being”, as the new ideology o f the French and the English had been stressing behind their slogan, “freedom, equality, fraternity” But the French and English had their national identities and could t a k e for g r a n t e d w h a t t h e G e r m a n s c o u l d not, a spiritual u n i t y w i t h i n

the grand abstraction o f “humanity”. The Germans found their role obscure; insofar as they saw themselves as “German,” they found themselves o n the defensive. T h e quest for identity, then, was a quest

for what Kant described as “human dignity,” or what Hegel later described as being “worthy of respect.”? Culture is identity. I n o u r American sense o f individualism, devoid

o f history and blind

to

the social matrix within which we distinguish

ourselves, we tend too easily t o forget that identity is n o t so m u c h the petty differences between us (owning a Chrysler, working for A & M company, being the boss) as the ties that bind us together, a common that

4 . A g o o d d i s c u s s i o n o f G e r m a n politics d u r i n g t h i s p e r i o d , a n d t h e p o e t i c impulse took t h e p l a c e o f political a c t i v i s m , is Geoffrey B a r r a c l o u g h ’ s classic Origins o f M o d -

ern Germany (New York: Putnam, 1963) and his Factors in German History (Oxford, Blackwell, 1946).

5. Immanuel

K a n t , Foundations o f the Metaphysics o f Morals, a n d What I s E n l i g h t e n -

ment?, trans. L.W. Beck, (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959), esp. ch. 2.

40

Setting the Stage

history, a n inherited experience, a common language. When travel-

ing, for example, one finds relief with virtually any other American— w h o “speaks the same language,” uses the same metaphors, refers to the same institutions, knows at least some o f the same cities. A n d i n

Asia, for example, one might find relief with any European, with whom one can a t least exchange mutually understood pleasantries. We take o u r language for granted, b u t i t is in and through o u r language that we define ourselves. With this in m i n d , we can fully

appreciate the problems o f identity in Germany

at

the t u r n of the last

century, w h e n even the k i n g o f Prussia, the mightiest German state,

could n o t speak fluent German. H e spoke French. The fashions o f the c o u r t were French. The literature was French. Even the ideas were French. I t should not b e surprising, then, that Goethe and other

Sturm und Drang poets, and philosophers like Lessing and Herder, should have seen the German struggle for cultural independence primarily

i n terms o f German l i t e r a t u r e , G e r m a n theater, G e r m a n

expression o f German ideas. Through philosophy and poetry, there would be a G e r m a n revolution, equivalent i n its profundity to the

violent altercations i n France. To be part o f humanity required first a cultural identity o f one’s own.® The problem o f German identity was, quite simply, that there was no such identity. One tended t o identify with a t o w n , or one’s family, or perhaps the local prince or duke. Or—in accordance with the new principles that had changed the shape o f Europe—one might identify with the whole o f “humanity,” a profound abstraction to be sure, b u t still an abstraction, hardly a n identity one could wear o n the street. Or, even more abstractly, one could identify w i t h the cosmos, the All,

i n the underground Spinozistic fashion then circulating among the German intellectuals—what Hegel and other German Idealists would call “ t h e Absolute”.” B u t that concept was n o t only abstract: i t was 6. The c h a m p i o n s o f German identity w e r e t w o philosophers, G o t t h o l d Ephraim L e s s i n g ( 1 7 2 9 - 1 7 8 1 ) a n d J o h a n n Gottfried v o n H e r d e r ( 1 7 4 4 - 1 8 0 3 ) . L e s s i n g was first o f a l l a playwright, as w e l l as a t h i n k e r o f c o n s i d e r a b l e i n f l u e n c e ; h e w a s instrumental i n establishing a national German theater, i n which German language and German e x p e r i e n c e s w o u l d r e p l a c e t h e d o m i n a n t F r e n c h influences a n d F r e n c h p l a y s w h i c h e x c l u d e d m o s t Germans, as i f t h e F r e n c h e x p e r i e n c e a n d l a n g u a g e w e r e i n d e e d univ e r s a l a n d l o c a l e x p e r i e n c e s a n d l a n g u a g e s w e r e t o b e d i s m i s s e d as p r o v i n c i a l a n d u n -

important. H e r d e r was a thinker o f considerable depth who attacked the Enlightenm e n t itself, with i t s p r e t e n s i o n s o f universality, and insisted upon t h e u l t i m a c y o f Volk languages, local dialectics, a n d c u l t u r a l e x p e r i e n c e s . B o t h figures w e r e t o h a v e a n enormous effect o n Hegel, despite t h e fact t h a t i n many o f t h e i r v i e w s t h e y w e r e o p p o s e d t o one another. 7 . B o t h H e r d e r a n d L e s s i n g s h a r e d i n t h e n e w e n t h u s i a s m for S p i n o z a , w h o h a d written i n A m s t e r d a m almost a c e n t u r y earlier). S p i n o z a ' s c e n t r a l t e a c h i n g w a s t h e unity

o f all the universe as a single “substance,” including God and all o f us. H e called this one s u b s t a n c e “ G o d ” ; h i s philosophy i s t h u s o f t e n c a l l e d “ p a n t h e i s m ” — t h e v i e w t h a t G o d i s identical t o the e n t i r e t y o f his creation.

The Spirit of the Times

41

obscure and all but incomprehensible without the differences within “the Absolute” that made u p “humanity.” Humanity o r “Spirit” was

the boundless circumference o f a concentric and crisscrossing set o f more concrete identities, particularly at the cultural level—and this was precisely what the Germans d i d n o t yet have. W h a t they required was a picture o f their place i n the world, their role i n humanity, their mission as a culture, to make their traumatized life make some sense,

have some significance, and t o make them, in the often repeated phrase of the times, “worthy o f respect.” Atomistic, individual identity is n o t identity. A n individual alone, Hegel argues, 1s nothing. Antigone was a tragic figure, according t o Hegel, because she was torn between two identities, two sets o f obligations—human a n d divine. Some Americans, however, have six identity crises before breakfast. I d e n t i t y for us has become a great m u d d l e , a n i n d i v i d u a l problem—which is, o f course, itself the prob-

lem. But for Hegel t o o , the problem of identity was largely the problem of a multitude of conflicting identities—family, class, community, Germany, G o d , c h u r c h , Napoleon, a n d “humanity” O n e n o longer

found “natural identity,” for what is “natural” for us, like everything else, had now become an open question.®

The Use a n d Abuse o f History . . . h o w t r a n s i t o r y a l l h u m a n s t r u c t u r e s a r e , n a y h o w oppressive t h e

best institutions become in the course o f a few generations. The plant blossoms and fades; your fathers have died, and mouldered into dust: your

temple i s

f a l l e n : y o u r tabernacle, t h e t a b l e s o f y o u r l a w a r e n o

m o r e ; language itself, that bond o f m a n k i n d , becomes antiquated: a n d shall a political constitution, shall a system o r government o r

religion . . . endure forever? —Johann Herder (To a Philosophy of the History of Man)

T h e quest for identity is not, some existentialists aside, a perennial question. I t emerges w i t h i n a culture—or a person—when one’s sense

of self-worth is i n question. I n 1806 the French did n o t have an identity crisis; they asked only how far they could get, and what was the 8. This n o t i o n o f “ n a t u r a l ” found its origins, most o f all, i n Jean Jacques Rousseau’s

powerful philosophy o f man’s “ n a t u r a l g o o d n e s s ” c o r r u p t e d by t h e c o n v e n t i o n s o f c i v i l i z e d society. R o u s s e a u ’ s Emile (1762) w a s among the b o o k s most t r e a s u r e d by t h e young Hegel, a n d a l s o by G o e t h e , by H e r d e r a n d K a n t . F o r t h e G e r m a n s o f t h e t u r n o f t h e century, t h e c o n v e n t i o n s o f s o c i e t y w e r e primarily F r e n c h a n d L u t h e r a n ; o u r “natural” vocation, t h e r e f o r e , w a s t o be found e l s e w h e r e — i n p o e t i c i n s p i r a t i o n ( G o e t h e ) o r i n philosophical reason (Kant).

42

Setting the Stage

cost. They needed n o Phenomenology; they had Napoleon. ( I t is the poverty o f 19th-century French philosophy that is significant.) Germany, on the other hand, was a fragmented victim, devastated by the

last war, stagnant for years, and now absorbed as a buffer in the continental system; the Germans needed a sense o f themselves, since they could not find i t i n the present, they turned to the past, to the m i d d l e ages a n d the great rulers o f history, real o r imagined. While the French

fought for “eternal principles” and, i f they looked

to

history

at

all,

saw only Louis X I V a n d the ancient Romans, the Germans recon-

structed a murky medieval past, a sense o f “destiny” as a nation, a mystical sense o f identity i n such folk legends as Faust. As virtually every intellectual historian has pointed o u t , the most distinctive con-

tribution o f the Germans

to

the intellectual history of this period was

their sense o f history itself, so glaringly absent in the French and

English ideologies. But this sense of the past, of imaginary Bildung rather than progress, was n o t merely an invention o f the intellectuals. I t was a n essential part o f the quest for identity, a particularly German identity, which could n o t yet look t o its success in the present for a sense o f self-worth. I t was a desperate sense, n o t so much concerned

with what one has done nor even with what one might become so much as a mere sense o f duration, survival, and emergence. T h e French

talked revolution; the Germans, redemption. The difference in the dominant metaphors is extremely significant. The French owned the world. T h e Germans, with history as their justification and conscious-

ness as their Continental Army, would comprehend it in the realm o f thought. The t u r n t o the past had t w o different forms i n Germany: t w o different pasts, i n fact. First, there was the old Germany—medieval, before the Reformation, feudal b u t familial, u n i t e d b y a single religion

and a “folk-culture”. Once it had been a world empire, n o t French but German, ruled n o t by “Charlemagne” but by “Karl der Grosse.” (Hegel describes such a past, for example i n his 1800 essay “ T h e German Constitution.”) I t was an imaginary past, “the good old days,” before the intrusion o f the more powerful and u n i t e d French nation, before the domination o f French culture, before the mischief—however necessary—of Luther's Reformation, the start o f all those modern troubles whose seeds are rebellion, autonomy, and the rejection o f authority. I n fact, from s o m e o f t h e descriptions, i t b e c o m e s c l e a r

that the reconstructed German past went clearly back t o the Romans, t h e tribes described b y Tacitus, the “barbarians” w h o overran t h e Rom a n Empire a n d , i n 4 7 6 , p l a c e d o n e o f t h e i r o w n o n t h e t h r o n e o f the

world. This

was a

Germany o f

the North, opposed to Latin cul-

The Spirit o f the Times

43

ture (represented by the French). I t was a culture o f warriors o f the forest, Gothic a n d mysterious, n o t “enlightened,” liberal, o r urbane.

But there was another past, curiously opposed, on the other side o f the historical story. The Germans also looked back t o the Greeks— the Greeks before the Roman conquests—as kindred spirits, as their own model o f perfection. The ancient Greeks had succeeded i n achieving a masterpiece of cultural unity, through their a r t and religion, despite the tragic political fragmentation that ultimately destroyed them. The Greeks, as opposed t o the Romans, were a “spiritual” people, much like the Germans. T h e Romans, o n the other hand,

were primarily political people, and the French fascination with Rome, not Greece, was perfectly appropriate t o their sense o f political rebirth, their sense o f republicanism and, after Napoleon's self-coronation i n 1804, their sense o f Empire as well. Compare, for example, the

“Roman” paintings of Jacques-Louis David, portraits of courage and republican virtue, w i t h the enthusiastic descriptions o f Greek a r t written b y Winckelmann a n d the classical poetry written at the same time

i n Germany, wholly concerned with Greek spirituality and sensuality; n o t a word about politics o r courage, a n d very little about virtue as such.® This classical past was obviously at odds with the Germanic past, n o t only historically b u t conceptually a n d ideologically as well. T h e classical nostalgia was foreign, distant, more o f a contrast t h a n a

kinship, however hard Goethe and his neoclassical colleagues tried t o sense that they themselves were the reborn spirit o f the ancients.

(Goethe crammed his house full o f statuettes and antiquities, for example, copied Greek verse i n his German poetry, and behaved l i k e a pagan as well as he could.) T h e worship o f the classics was humbling; the Germans felt they could n o t even approach the spiritual perfection o f t h e ancients. B u t this too was at o n e with the Spirit o f Ger-

many as such, nationally proud but humbled and confused between facts and fantasy. The classical image provided an aesthetic and, ultimately, a philosophical ideal, but i t was the German identity that would

provide that sense o f culture that the Germans needed in

most.

The

9. I h a v e d i s c u s s e d t h e c o n n e c t i o n s b e t w e e n G e r m a n philosophy a n d F r e n c h art t h e e a r l y 19th c e n t u r y i n my History a n d H u m a n N a t u r e , c h s . 9, 13. D a v i d ' s “Oath o f

t h e Horatii” o f 1785, for example, is i n t e n d e d to inspire political sacrifice a n d courage, the likes o f w h i c h a r e n o t t o be f o u n d i n Germany. Compare, for example, Goethe’s Hermann and Dorothea o f a few years later, i n w h i c h the virtues o f the F r e n c h R e v o l u t i o n a r e s t a r k l y (and unfavorably) c o n t r a s t e d with t h e m o r e domestic v i r t u e s o f a d i s t i n c tively bourgeois b u m p k i n H e r m a n n . J o h a n n W i n c k e l m a n n (1717-1768) was o n e o f t h e first G e r m a n journalists t o w r i t e a b o u t t h e n e w l y d i s c o v e r e d e x c a v a t i o n s a t Pompeii a n d H e r c u l a n e u m , a n d G r e e k a n d R o m a n a r t i n general. ( L e s s i n g a l s o w r o t e a b o u t this e x t e n s i v e l y . ) H i s e n t h u s i a s m affected a w h o l e g e n e r a t i o n o f G e r m a n s , w h o b e g a n l o o k ing a t G r e e c e as just t h e l o s t “ n a t u r a l harmony” R o u s s e a u a n d they h a d b e e n l o o k -

ing for.

44

Setting the Stage

“quiet simplicity and simple grandeur” that Winckelmann fantasized i n the Greeks was hardly appropriate t o Germany i n the world of 1806. Not surprisingly then, the rage, for the classics that h a d defined

Goethe’s work through the 1780s and 1790s, with his friend Schiller and the young poet Friedrich Hölderlin,!® quietly and simply burned itself o u t by 1804, when Winckelmann was murdered i n Trieste, when Goethe, speaking Winckelmann’s eulogy, was already turning away from the past and back toward the present via Faust. Schiller died, and H o l d e r l i n became hopelessly insane. A n d yet, we must n o t u n -

derestimate the powerful influence the classical nostalgia would have o n young Hegel, w h o would continue t o use the ancient Athenians as

a model straight through t o his last works. But the ideal of the classics gave way t o a more distinctively German nostalgia, the nostalgia o f the Gothic G e r m a n past. T h e German poets o f 1806, for example,

talked about little else.!! The t u r n t o history had a philosophical basis. The French-Swiss philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau, and many of the English theorists as well, had based their utopian visions of the ideal state on a mythological construction about the “state of nature” and the life of humanity before the conventions o f society and complexities o f modern life had their irreversible effects. For Rousseau, this pre-social life literally began before society, with individual c r e a t u r e s wandering around in the woods ( m u c h as h e wandered about i n Paris, his “nat-

ural goodness” deeply

at

odds with the artificiality of French society).

B u t in Germany this image was adapted t o a more social conception.

(Much as, in Rousseau’s second Discourse, the “noble savage” also gives way t o a more tribal image, b u t still “before society” as we know it.'%.) T h e early Greeks were the model for this “natural” state, a n ideal 10. Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) and Friedrich Hölderlin (1770-1843) were, per-

haps, t h e t w o m o s t d i r e c t influences

o n Hegel. Schiller w a s a p l a y w r i g h t w h o was a l s o a

student o f Kant, a disciple o f Rousseau, and a self-proclaimed champion of freedom. H e was a l s o Goethe's best f r i e n d . Hölderlin is generally c o n s i d e r e d o n e o f t h e g r e a t lyrical poets o f G e r m a n literature; he was also a correspondent o f both Goethe and Schiller and, m o s t important, he was Hegel's roommate i n college. We shall see much

o f him i n what follows. 1 1 . M a n y o f t h e “ G o t h i c ” m y t h s a n d allegories t h a t w o u l d become, for example, t h e t h e m e s o f Wagner's g r e a t operas a half-century l a t e r w e r e r e f o r m u l a t e d a n d e l e v a t e d t o the s t a t u s o f Volk-spirit d u r i n g this time, by the poet Novalis (Friedrich von H a r d enburg), b y t h e critics August a n d F r i e d r i c h v o n S c h l e g e l , a n d b y t h e e n e r g e t i c spokes-

w o m a n for t h e whole neo-romantic movement, M a d a m e d e Stiel.

12.

Rousseau’s

much-quoted

distinction between man

“in

the state

of

nature”

and

“ c o r r u p t e d ” b y civilization is i n fact a four- o r five-part distinction i n w h i c h t h e h i g h e r

stages o f “the s t a t e o f nature” already include primitive family and tribal life a n d much o f what we already consider “civilized.” For a good discussion, see Lovejoy’s discussion o f t h e s e c o n d Discourse ( t h a t i s , Discourse o n the Origins o f Inequality B e t w e e n M e n , 1754), “ T h e S u p p o s e d Primitivism of R o u s s e a u ’ s Discourse o n Inequality,” i n Essays i n the History

of Ideas (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1948), pp. 14-37.

The Spirit of the Times

45

harmony in both personal life and domestic politics. Perhaps the early G e r m a n Volk w e r e n a t u r a l t o o , o r n a t u r a l l y “ s u p e r - n a t u r a l ” as o n e

expression would have it. For Rousseau, this pseudo-historical image provided an explanation and a basis for the construction of current

society; for the Germans, i t was more like edification, a sense o f the past, b u t these images too indicated the course m o s t desired, most

“natural” for the future. The shift from the Greek past

to

the Ger-

m a n past therefore becomes highly significant, and the year 1804, when Hegel was beginning his Phenomenology, becomes the year o f a

change o f attitude. The fantasy o f the sunny skies o f ancient Greece is given u p in favor o f a search into the shadows o f German history and culture. But in 1806, that history was plainly i n the momentous

future.

S u n and Shadows “Enlightenment.” By this simple means pure insight will resolve the c o n f u s i o n o f t h e w o r l d . —Phenomenology

I n the prelude t o his invaluable study o f Hegel's early developS. Harris explains his title, Towards the Sunlight, as a series o f metaphors, all o f which deeply affected the young Hegel as a s t u dent.!® Harris emphasizes the sunlight o f ancient Greece and the Platonic allegory from the Republic—the sun o f eternal truth, in contrast t o the mere shadows i n which m o s t men live. Most immediately, howment, H .

ever, is the sunshine o f the Enlightenment, the German Aufklärung,

the “light of reason” celebrated by Descartes and the bright new world that H e g e l h a d read about i n Voltaire, Diderot, Rousseau, Condorcet,

promised by the French i n the w e s t and defended by Immanual Kant far t o the east i n Prussia. This would be the “sunburst” o f Hegel's Phenomenology, the new light o f Truth that German philosophy would announce to the w o r l d . T h e Enlightenment metaphor, which h a d al-

ready inspired revolutions i n England, America, and France, now passed into Germany, as Aufklirung, literally a clarification of the world. The Enlightenment defined itself by its dedication t o reason and its devoted attack on prejudice and superstition. Its French practitioners called themselves “philosophers,” although their criticism was more often political a n d social than metaphysical. I n fact, they tended 13. H.S. Harris, Hegel's Development: Towards the Sunlight 1770-1801 (Oxford: Clare n d o n Press, 1972), w h i c h has j u s t been succeeded b y his new study, ( O x f o r d : Clarend o n Press, 1982).

46

Setting the Stage

to despise metaphysics a n d philosophy as such. T h e Enlightenment was self-consciously cosmopolitan; i t concerned itself with “human-

ity” and systematically denied any significant differences between peoples o r periods. David Hume summarized the attitude i n his Enquiry o f 1749, when he wrote: I t is universally acknowledged that there 1s a great uniformity among the actions o f m e n , i n all nations a n d ages, a n d that h u m a n nature

remains still the same, i n its principles and operations . . . Mankind are so m u c h the same, i n all times a n d places, that history informs us o f n o t h i n g new o r strange i n this particular. —Enquiry on Human Nature

I t was a powerful political weapon, this notion o f universality. We find i t , for example, i n o u r o w n Declaration o f Independence, “We hold these truths to b e self-evident” (“self-evidence” was another irrefuta-

ble pretension of Enlightenment thinking) “that all men are endowed by their creator with inalienable rights, among these are life, liberty and the pursuit o f happiness.” Enlightenment principles lay behind the “liberty, equality, fraternity” o f the French Revolution and i t was i n the name o f Enlightenment principles that Napoleon “liberated” Germany. B y t h e t u r n o f the century, t h e Enlightenment Spirit

of criticism, imminently practical, political, concerned n o t so much with abstract ideas as the good life for humanity, absolutely dominated Europe.!'* I n Germany, the Enlightenment had its m o s t able defender o f all, the philosopher Immanuel Kant. From his safe and distant perch near the shores o f the Baltic Sea, over a thousand miles from Paris, K a n t

applauded the French Revolution, n o t only i n its first days of enlightened reform, but even through the Reign of Terror of 1792-95, when other Germans, including Goethe and young Hegel, began timidly t o t u r n away. But Kant was an anomaly i n Germany, n o t only because o f his abstract political radicalism but because o f his defense o f the Enlightenment itself. K a n t was defending the clarity o f reason a t a time

when the general sympathy of the German intellectuals was turning his hometown o f Konigsberg, where he was indeed the philosopher king, i n c r e a s i n g l y t o w a r d mysticism a n d anti-intellectualism. E v e n i n

Kant h a d t o share attention with his good friend, b u t a n obscure and

forgettable philosopher, Johann Hamann, who followed the mystical tradition o f Meister Eckhardt rather than the illuminating ideals o f Voltaire and Hume. Kant defended Newton and the new physics when most of his compatriots, Goethe, for example, thought Newtons views 1 4 . F o r t h e classic, enthusiastic p r e s e n t a t i o n o f t h e E n l i g h t e n m e n t as a P e t e r G a y ' s The E n l i g h t e n m e n t : A n Interpretation ( N e w Y o r k : V i n t a g e , 1966).

whole, see

The Spirit of the Times

47

Godless and vulgar and preferred biology and the life sciences as the paradigm o f knowledge. A n d just as Kant defended the international and cosmopolitan values o f the French and English Enlightenments, the German intellectuals were becoming increasingly obsessed with the idea of “folk Spirit” and a distinctively German culture. And while Kant was following t h e Enlightenment a n d trying to modernize a n d

rationalize Christianity, many of his intellectual comrades and students were converting t o Catholicism, precisely i n order t o reject the d i v i s i v e a t t e m p t s t o m o d e r n i z e Christianity t h a t h a d defined t h e Ger-

man Reformation.'® I n Germany the Enlightenment—the Aufklirung—never achieved the unchallenged ideological s t a t u s i t already enjoyed (and still enjoys) i n England, America, and France. The bright new world o f Enlightenment dimmed in the shadows of a culture devoted t o the darker side o f h u m a n nature, t o Faust and mystery. While Napoleon was

building the magnificent Madeleine i n Paris, with the bright marble and clean simple lines o f classical antiquity, the young intellectuals o f Germany were rediscovering the Gothic cathedral—complex, mysterious, medieval, whose very purpose was to inspire mystery a n d awe

and defy understanding. While the French rejected virtually the whole o f history since the ancient Romans and Greeks as “dark ages,” the young German poets began t o look a t that same past w i t h a kind o f nostalgia. A n d so, even if i t is true that Enlightenment premises and promises were a source o f inspiration t o Hegel and his friends, it is equally true that they were affected by an extremely powerful anti-

Enlightenment mood throughout Germany. I n this sense, Kant was not so m u c h o f an influence as a foreign voice, more representative

o f the English and French philosophers than the Spirit o f Germany.!® Whatever its cosmopolitan pretensions, the Enlightenment was i n fact a class movement, a bourgeois ideology, whose slogans of universal equality and brotherhood had an immediate political advantage t o those who were shouting them loudest: an increasingly large number o f citizens i n the cities (thus bourgeois or Bürger) who had no inheritance, l a n d , o r titles, w h o worked w i t h their minds a n d their manners

rather than their hands and filled the posts of lawyers, businessmen, accountants, clerks, teachers, professors, architects, merchants, 15. For example, Hegel's friend Schelling and the critics and poets of the “Romani n Jena a t t h e t u r n o f t h e century. 16. This is, o f course, hyperbole; Kant’s third Critigue, The Critique of Judgment o f 1790, w a s o n e o f t h e primary p h i l o s o p h i c a l v e h i c l e s of t h e w h o l e G e r m a n R o m a n t i c movement. B u t the work for which he is still best known i n England and America—the tic” circle

first t w o “Critiques” —was d i s t i n c t l y f o r e i g n t o t h e d o m i n a n t G e r m a n t e m p e r a m e n t o f

1800.

48

Setting the Stage

tradesmen and managed the bureaucracies o f Europe. I n the language o f equality and human rights they rejected the privileges of the aristocracy, criticized kings and princes, and gave themselves the right, once the revolution h a d done its business, to legislate for all

humanity, in the name o f reason and what they came t o call “common sense.” They raised their own occupations t o the level of institutions; before they had only been service positions. I n Germany, Geofterey Barraclough writes, “The only opportunities open t o the middle class was In the service o f the princes; and the only bourgeois element which

found any scope within the system was therefore a class-conscious body o f civil servants, lawyers, university teachers and profession

placemen, who glorified the system which accorded their existence.” Later, i n Germany as i n France, the bureaucracy and the bourgeois occupations would come t o represent society as such. I f Enlightenment is the ideology o f the middle class, t h e n we can

easily understand why the Enlightenment had such a distorted and truncated existence i n Germany. The Enlightenment in England and France was primarily a political aspiration, but i n Germany, under the petty princes o r u n d e r Napoleon, political action was limited, revo-

lution unthinkable. Germany, unlike England and France had a relatively small and impotent class o f Biirger, who were scattered throughout 200 plus tiny states and principalities and were therefore without the implosive concentration of Paris and London. I n England a n d France, secular values—good business in particular—had forced

religion into second place i n human affairs, but Germany was without a healthy mercantile class, and religion still held a primary place, i f only because divine salvation was more available than secular success.

To make matters all the more confusing, the feudal and petty princes o f the German states often aped the conversational fashion o f the French Enlightenment, even while they so offended its moral sub-

Insofar as the anti-authoritarian sentiment i n Germany had any real m o m e n t u m , therefore, i t tended t o be directed against the Enlightenment as much as i t was motivated by it. As a “movement,” the Aufklärung represented the powers o f oppression r a t h e r than the promise o f liberation. (Frederick the Great, for example, was a good friend o f Voltaire, and his conversation, as opposed t o many of his domestic policies, was very “enlightened.”) And again, the cosmopolitan attitudes of the Enlightenment may have appealed t o the French, stance.

whose national identity was not i n question, b u t i t was exactly contrary to the growing aspirations o f a great many Germans, for w h o m 17. Barraclough, Origins, p. 283.

The Spirıt o f the Times

49

the unity o f humanity was a secondary concern. What they wanted far more was their o w n cultural identity, and only then a n important place in Europe and society as a whole.

Romanticism The world

must

be made romantic. Then once more w e shall dis-

cover i t s o r i g i n a l m e a n i n g . T o m a k e s o m e t h i n g romantic, . . .

the

lower self becomes identified with the higher self . . . Insofar as I render a higher meaning t o what is ordinary, a mysterious appearance to what is customary, a n infinite l o o k to the finite, I a m roman-

ticizing. —Novalis

The name

most

often given

to

this anti-Enlightenment reaction, by

its o w n authors i n fact, was Romanticism. I n the manifestoes o f the turn o f the century, Romanticism was promoted as essentially modern,

despite its yearning for the middle ages (Schlegel, who invented the t e r m , defined i t as “ t h e spirit o f m o d e r n poetry,” for example.) I t was,

following the philosopher Herder, extremely folk-minded. I t was tended t o be anti-rational, thus dismissing philosophy i n the name of poetry even as i t launched into l o n g philosophical tirades, following

the greatest philosophers o f the age and producing others in their o w n ranks. T h e Romantics followed Kant, b u t n o t the K a n t w h o defended the Enlightenment so much as the K a n t o f the Critique ofJudgment, w h o there defended the significance o f aesthetics, talked about the role o f genius, a n d presented a woolly picture o f a n evolving,

living universe—very much a t odds with the spirit of his other works. I n general, Romanticism was defined defensively, belligerently, just as the Enlightenment had been defined by Voltaire and its early defenders i n France, b u t now against Enlightenment. I f the Enlightenment

prided itself on its secular status, Romanticism made a conspicuous show o f religion. I f Enlightenment denied the past and celebrated the future, Romanticism would celebrate precisely that past. I f the Enlightenment celebrated the ancients, then Romanticism would identify with the “barbarians.” I f the Enlightenment prided itself on reason, the Romantics would place all o f their emphasis o n passion,

and i f the Enlightenment celebrated humanity and the cosmopolitan viewpoint, t h e n the Romantics w o u l d worship the individual, the cult o f genius (most o f t h e m t h i n k i n g themselves geniuses, o f course), a n d

the ideals o f the hero and the savior (though who among them this would be was n o t decided). The Enlightenment denied the signifi-

50

Setting the Stage

cance o f individual cultures a n d local customs in the name o f univer-

sal principles, so the Romantics celebrated precisely the local and the colorful. But i f this seems small-minded i n c o n t r a s t t o Enlightenment cosmopolitanism, the Romantics more than compensated with their appeal t o the cosmic—the infinite. I f the Enlightenment was primarily a political movement, the Romantics rejected politics almost totally, and instead celebrated the “inner” and infinite virtues o f religion, morality, a n d aesthetic creativity.

This is the picture promulgated by the Romantics, and it is unfortunate that i t has been accepted, i n one form o r another, b y many o f

their commentators. Romanticism was a polemic, necessary perhaps but often extravagant and misleading. Enlightenment and Romanticism were i n fact more complementary than antagonistic, alternative answers t o similar questions i n very different cultural settings. Both

were bourgeois movements, despite the fact that the Enlightenment philosophers presented their case i n unqualified universal terms, and

the Romantics were extremely vocal i n precisely their attack on bourgeois mediocrity and bourgeois values. Both were efforts toward selfrealization; although this was first o f all a political effort i n Enlightenment France i t was, d u e to their political impotence, a n inward,

more “spiritual” struggle for the Germans. The Enlightenment was nothing if not passionate, however the philosophers celebrated reason. I f the Enlightenment proselytized its universal humanism and its cosmopolitan attitudes, i t is nevertheless from the Enlightenment, n o t from Romanticism, that we have inherited our strong sense of individualism, individual rights, and individual freedom. And howeverm u c h t h e Romantics stressed t h e role o f t h e e x c e p t i o n a l individual,

the hero and the genius, they also believed that the significance o f such individuals was precisely their role as representatives and examples for a l l humanity, i n fact, o f World Spirit itself. I f Voltaire once

said that he found heroes “boring” while Romantic Byron began his Don Juan sarcastically declaring “ I want a hero,” the difference, perhaps, was more that Voltaire assumed that h e himself was one while

Byron was still looking for his. The Enlightenment philosophers and the Romantics shared a philosophical hero too—]Jean Jacques Rousseau, the single most important philosopher for Kant, for Herder, for

Goethe, and for Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. Both Enlightenment a n d Romanticism were declared to be “modern,” i n contrast to the other, a n d i f the Romantics turned to the m i d d l e ages as a source o f

inspiration we m u s t n o t forget that the Enlightenment turned t o the ancient Greeks and Romans for exactly the same purpose. (Classicism, which is often contrasted w i t h Romanticism i n the arts, m i g h t

The Spirit of the Times

51

be seen as the aesthetic equivalent o f Enlightenment, and its vicissitudes in Europe following m u c h the same patterns.) B o t h Enlightenment a n d Romanticism were bourgeois efforts t o make a place for

themselves in a particularly insecure world, the Enlightenment providing structure, promises, a n d principles to a violent world o f revo-

lution, the Romantics trying t o inspire enthusiasm and vitality in a world o f political stagnation and spiritual devastation.'® However excited he may have become on reading Voltaire and Rousseau, Hegel was directly inspired b y Lessing, Herder, Goethe,

Schiller, and the German nationalists. However he may have lampooned the Romantics i n the Phenomenology, he was their kindred spirit, if not exactly one o f them, and his attacks o n some o f their pet themes, for example, their emphasis o n feeling and intuitionism, was more a matter

o f stress than substance, and of little significance i n the cross-

fire o f ideologies a t the time. German Enlightenment and Romanti-

cism, whatever their internal polemics (which were in no way distasteful t o Hegel, who enjoyed them) were part o f one and the same ideology, one and the same effort a t self-realization, one and the same attempt t o find dignity o f self and a role in the new world, whatever

i t would be, that would replace the rotted and now demolished Holy Roman Empire, i n the a u t u m n o f 1806. I n Hegel's philosophy, Enlightenment and Romanticism play absolutely essential and complementary roles (which is not always evident i n what he says about them). !?

Poetry and Prophecy Every extraordinary man has a mission t o accomplish. I f he has fulfilled i t , h e is n o l o n g e r needed u p o n this e a r t h i n the same form, a n d P r o v i d e n c e uses h i m for something else. — J . G o e t h e

Everything human must slowly rise, unfold and ripen —Schiller.

I n France the “philosophers” attacked most traditional philosophy, especially metaphysics. The German romantic poets, o n the other hand, 18. Not surprisingly,

the watchword

of

t h e r o m a n t i c movement, w a s “ e n t h u s i a s m . ”

M a d a m e d e Staél used i t a n d demonstrated it i n h e r every sentence; the poets wrote enthusiastic o d e s t o i t , a n d i t w a s commonly a s s e r t e d , b y e v e r y romantic from Schlegel

t o Nietzsche t o Disraeli, as well as b y b o t h K a n t a n d Hegel, as Hegel p u t i t , “ n o t h i n g

great is possible without enthusiasm” ( i n his I n t r o d u c t i o n t o The Philosophy of History, t r a n s . R.S. Hartman as Reason in History (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953). 1 9 . B o t h d i s c u s s i o n s i n t h e Phenomenology i n c h a p t e r 6 a r e d i s t i n c t l y unflattering,

especially the discussion o f “Enlightenment.” B u t i t is one o f 1legel’s more annoying t r a i t s t h a t h e criticizes most vocally a n d d i s t i n g u i s h e s f r o m h i s o w n t h i n k i n g p r e c i s e l y t h o s e a u t h o r s a n d movements w h i c h i n f a c t c o n t r i b u t e d t h e m o s t t o it.

52

Setting the Stage

attacked philosophy, but i n the name o f a metaphysics that extolled poetry, not metaphysics, as the mother tongue o f truth. T h e battle

between Enlightenment and Romanticism thus produced an embarrassingly artificial and confused conflict between philosophy and poetry. I t was n o t a new conflict (Plato urged the expulsion o f the poets

i n the name of philosophy). A n d yet, in Germany a t least, they both were expressions o f self-aspiration, the non-political equivalent of revolution in France, the vehicle of redemption, with philosophers and poets alike as prophets. Hegel’s friends Hölderlin and Schelling had already taken u p the redeemer’s robes, one through poetry with a philosophical base, the other through metaphysics in defense of poetry. A n d i f Hegel's Phenomenology strikes the American reader as closer to poetry than what we ( i n o u r English Enlightenment tradi-

tion) call philosophy, far richer in imagery and connotations than strict definition and argument, i t is because poetry and philosophy i n Germany were t o serve one and the same end, t o present a picture o f the universe i n which one’s o w n place would be defined, and a mythical past harmony, l o n g since lost, was about to be recaptured.

The pivotal figure i n this prophetic confrontation of philosophy and poetry, a n d a powerful influence o n Hegel, is Friedrich Schiller.

O n the one hand, Schiller was an extremely close friend and collaborator w i t h Goethe; o n the other, h e was a student o f Kant’s philoso-

phy and thus i n a particularly favorable position t o forge the synthesis between poetry and philosophy, between Goethe and Kant, and t o set the stage for the prophetic union o f the t w o . H e combined the moral fervor o f Kant (and later Fichte) with the artistic enthusiasm o f Goethe (and later Schelling). H e t o o h a d been one o f the Sturm und Drang poets, a n d his precocious play The Robbers had been a powerful influ-

ence o n the growth of Romanticism i n Germany, like Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther. H e too had given up that rebellious sentimentality for a more disciplined classicism—*"“freedom within limitation” Goethe called it—and looked t o the ancient Greeks as a kind o f ideal. A n d all o f this he tempered with Kant’s philosophy, forging a

vision that brought together the confused a s p i r a t i o n s o f a young and struggling society, t o r n by conflicting ideologies and seeking an identity o f its own. T h e vision is complex, as i t would have h a d to be, drawing n o t only o n Sturm und Drang enthusiasm a n d ancient ideals, o n Kant a n d Goethe,

but the whole of the German experience toward the end o f that century, after the French Revolution but before the emergencies wrought b y N a p o l e o n . Schiller shared w i t h Goethe the emphasis o n what we may call the “ g r o w t h m e t a p h o r ” (or Bildung), d r a w n from biology a n d

The Spirit o f the Times

53

Aristotelean cosmology, rendered i n the terms of modern metaphysics in Kant’s Critique ofJudgment and, a few years later, t o become Hegel’s “dialectic.” Schiller shared the sense o f momentous a n d immi-

change. But like many Germans, he had been stunned by the of the French Revolution t o Terror, and so he t o o turned away from political aspirations t o a more personal ideal, what we might call “the whole person,” as Schiller envisioned the citizens o f ancient Ath-

nent turn

ens, at one w i t h themselves, society, a n d nature. T h e French Revolu-

tion had shown, as philosophers had suspected, that modern humanity was incapable o f handling freedom, that we would have t o be

“cultivated” i n morality and aesthetics before we could be capable of any political “liberation.” I n his Letters on Aesthetic Education in 1794, Schiller used Kant’s third Critique and a suggestion from Hölderlin t o argue that o u r sense o f beauty was the synthesis and necessary con-

dition for the good life, and “aesthetic education” the means t o achieve that moral capacity for freedom that the French evidently still lacked. Unlike lesser minds, Schiller did n o t try t o reduce the whole of human experience t o a single sphere, whether aesthetic, moral, cognitive, or religious, but argued that all function together as integral parts o f the whole person. I t is this sense o f synthesis and “harmony,” so

essential in times of conflict, that would be Schiller’s m o s t powerful influence o n the y o u n g poets a n d philosophers o f 1800.

The ideal o f “harmony” was n o t without its political side; the probl e m for the G e r m a n s was h o w to realize the single political ideal t h a t

structured virtually all o f their thinking. That ideal was the Greek polis, the small city-state, in which every citizen was both a “human being” a n d a “ m e m b e r ” o f t h e state, a n autonomous i n d i v i d u a l a n d a n inextricable p a r t o f the larger tissue. T h e ideal o f “ h a r m o n y ” i n o t h e r words, was n o t so m u c h concerned w i t h individuals as i t was

concerned with the whole life o f a people within an ideal community. T h u s the ambiguity o f the w o r d “Bildung,” between growth (educa-

tion) and “culture” is particularly revealing: an individual o r a society grows only so far as i t “cultivates” itself, becomes part o f a culture.

Politics t o o , therefore, becomes n o t so much a matter o f abstract political principles (“liberty, equality, fraternity”) as development as a “natural” whole according t o its o w n “internal” principles, an aesthetic ideal rather than a political one. This is true n o t only o f individuals a n d societies b u t even o f humanity as a whole. (Thus Hegel,

i n the Phenomenology, will suggest that each person goes through the stages o f growth that the whole o f humanity has e n d u r e d through 20. Schiller’s L e t t e r s

a r e t r a n s l a t e d as O n the Aesthetic E d u c a t i o n o f M a n

Snell ( N e w York: Ungar, 1965).

by Reginald

54

Setting the Stage

“world history.” “Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny” i n phenomenology as well as i n biology.) Bildung is a metaphor. So is this concept of “harmony.” They are as much images as ideas; in fact, they are “Ideas” in Kant’ special sense— i d e a l s w i t h o u t w h i c h life w o u l d b e impossible b u t , nevertheless, t h e y

themselves are impossible too, never to be k n o w n as such, never to be

realized. I t is this distinction, so firmly rooted i n Kant, between the limited and knowable and the ideal and unknowable that sets the poets a n d philosophers o f 1800 off a n d running, to grasp, as Kant insisted they could n o t , what they called “ t h e infinite” T h e more technical aspects o f this ambition will have t o wait until the n e x t chapter, b u t

the idea, as far as the spirit of the times was concerned, was simple enough; life gets defined through its metaphors, and if philosophers could n o t define and defend them, then i t would have t o be u p t o the poets. Someone h a d t o d o i t , for the sake o f “humanity” ( i t s e l fa metaphor, o f course, not a literal entity). B u t the ultimate metaphor was t h i s — f e as a unified a n d harmonious whole, a n d n o t h i n g less.

A metaphor is an image that cannot be stated literally without some sense o f absurdity. Thus they are “Ideas” i n Kant’s sense—they regulate o u r lives but cannot be literally understood.?! This d i d not mean, as many o f the Romantics insisted, that they could n o t be described

or defended. The various claims

to

the effect that philosophy could

n o t “grasp the infinite” was a misreading o f Kant, to the benefit o f

the poets. But metaphor is just as much the province o f philosophy as poetry, a n d whatever Hegel's outspoken objections t o mere images

(Vorstellungen) and the need for the Concept (Begriff), we can only understand his philosophy—and the thought o f the times i n general— i n t e r m s o f the grand metaphors so central t o all German thinking a t the time. Whether this aids poetry at the expense o f philosophy o r philosophy at the expense o f poetry is n o longer a dispute worth dis-

puting. The reigning metaphor 1s Bildung, that sense of quasi-biological growth and development, like a seedling growing into a t r e e , n o t by v i r t u e o f “external” forces (wind, soil conditions, etc.)—though they will be o f some considerable eftect—but by virtue o f its o w n inherent nature (its genetic composition, for example, but Hegel couldn’t have

understood much of that). I t is

a

metaphor that defines the whole

s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology and recurs over and over again. I t is

21. K a n t u s e d t h e p h r a s e “regulative i d e a s ” t o r e f e r t o t h o s e doctrines, s u c h as t h e r a t i o n a l i t y a n d u l t i m a t e comprehensibility o f t h e w o r l d a n d t h e h o p e t h a t justice would finally prevail, which, o n the o n e h a n d , h a d to be believed b y a n y rational person but, o n t h e other, c o u l d n o t b e p r o v e n t o b e t r u e , as

principles o f

knowledge.

The Spirit o f the Times to

55

be found i n Kant’s philosophy, i n Goethe’s poetry, and,

most

im-

portantly, i n the very sense o f existence a t the t u r n o f the century,

when the only way o f coping with the turmoil and uncertainty was some sense o f “destiny,” o f a new world coming into being, as i f Napoleon a n d war were b u t necessary growth pains. T h e goal o f the metaphor Bildung is i n turn the metaphor ( o r “ t h e I d e a ” ) o f wholeness o r totality, empty in itself (“the Night in which all cows are Black”— Hegel mocks Schelling)?? b u t necessary nevertheless as an ideal—for

knowledge, for morality, for a r t and religion (which is sometimes defined as just this sense o f totality). The idea o f “a whole person” is also a metaphor, n o t a measurable quantity, but its literal contrast is clear enough: Even i n 1790, Schiller could begin t o despise the disintegration o f h u m a n life i n the bureaucracy (over a century before

Kafka), the limitation o f experience, and the numbing o f moral and aesthetic faculties (years before sex and violence on television), and “alienation” (later described by Hegel, then Marx). I t is doubtful that there ever existed or even could exist a real “whole person” (as Schiller described Goethe, though more o u t o f flattery than fact), but that made i t n o less a n ideal, n o less desirable, and n o less necessary—as

an ideal23 From the Enlightenment, however, there was a competing meta-

phor, which found its place primarily i n Kant, but i n altered forms in Schiller and the philosophers Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel as well. I t is the image o f autonomy, which is sometimes referred t o as “infinity”

Autonomy was the image o f self-containment, the resistance t o all “external” determination. (The political analogues were obvious too.

even at the time.) This “self-determination,” however, was not to be construed as a particularly individual concept—the “freedom o f the

individual” from interference by others, whether individuals or the s t a t e . Autonomy m e a n t the ability o f the individual t o discover for himself o r herself the universal rules o f morality, o r science, o r aes2 2 . T h e p h r a s e occurs i n t h e P r e f a c e o f t h e Phenomenology, Hegel uses i t t o r e f e r t o

the vacuity o f such simple-minded cosmic slogans as “all is One,” despite the fact that, ultimately, h e too insists on j u s t s u c h a c o n c l u s i o n as t h e “ r e s u l t ” o f h i s philosophy. 2 3 . I t i s important t o insist t h a t S c h i l l e r ’ s “ w h o l e p e r s o n ” always r e f e r r e d t o a p e r s o n

integrated i n t o a harmonious society. T h e m o s t i m p o r t a n t difference between his con-

ception a n d o u r own—and one o f the greatest stumbling blocks t o o u r understanding

of

this

period i n Germany in g e n e r a l — i s

t h e G e r m a n rejection o f t h e

idea o f isolated,

i n d i v i d u a l h u m a n beings; we, o n t h e o t h e r hand, take as o u r foremost heroes m e n a n d women w h o h a v e c u t themselves off from s o c i e t y a n d d e c l a r e d themselves wholly au-

tonomous. These thinkers believed i n liberty and autonomy, b u t always within a community; a n d i f t h e y a l s o c e l e b r a t e d o u t c a s t s a n d criminals ( e . g . Schiller’s Robbers a n d Holderlin’s “ m i s p l a c e d ” Hyperion), t h e y w e r e a l s o o u t c a s t s p r e c i s e l y b e c a u s e t h e y f o u n d t h a t t h e s o c i e t y i n which t h e y found t h e m s e l v e s w a s d i s t i n c t l y u n h a r m o n i o u s a n d a n t i t h e t i c a l t o o n e ’ s i n t e g r a t i o n i n i t as a “ w h o l e p e r s o n . ”

56

Setting the Stage

thetics, and it meant moreover the autonomy o f the community in which

individuals were members. I t is the community, and, ultimately, the whole o f human “spirit” that becomes autonomous, according t o Hegel, n o t the individual. Indeed, the tension between the whole and the individual, the “universal” a n d “the particular,” would b e a point

o f considerable tension i n German Idealism. But whatever its subject, the goal o f Enlightenment, and in Hegel, the goal o f Bildung and the Phenomenology, is rational autonomy, self-realization according t o reason. To call these crucial philosophical ideals “metaphors” is n o t a t all t o

dismiss them. I n fact, i t would n o t be a t all un-Hegelian t o insist that metaphors are more primary t o our thinking than literal understanding. The Enlightenment, just as much as the mysteries o f Romanticism, was a metaphor. “Progress” 1s a metaphor and so is the German sense o f “mission,” their sense o f “redemption,” and the grand ab-

straction “humanity.” “The whole” is ultimately a metaphor and so is “the Absolute” and—years before our modern mathematical theories—the concept o f “infinity.” But t o say that these are metaphors is only t o say that their “truth” is i n their role i n human experience (which perhaps too is a metaphor), that t o demand too strict a definition o f them will almost always yield either platitudes or nonsense. T h u s Aristotle insisted that we should n o t demand more precision o f

a subject than i t is capable o f giving us, and the “spirit o f the times”, in Germany i n 1800, was notoriously imprecise, as the guidelines to

human life had also become notoriously imprecise. What they wanted was a set o f ideals, edification, and encouragement, n o t hard-headed analysis. And so t o say that their philosophies were built on metaphors is n o t t o demean them but rather t o point o u t something that is notoriously missing from much philosophy today—a sense of vision, a set o f inspiring images, a grand “speculative” attempt to make sense o f the world. To provide that vision, t o “save humanity,” t o make

sense of this new, exciting, terrifying world, and whether through philosophy or poetry, this was the united task of the German intellectuals. I t was Hegel who was m o s t successful, but his difference with 24. Charles Taylor, i n his t w o books o n Hegel, draws a portrait o f the period using t h e somewhat oversimplified dualism b e t w e e n w h a t he calls (following I s a i a h Berlin) “expressivism” a n d “ r a t i o n a l autonomy,” roughly, H e r d e r a n d t h e Romantics o n t h e o n e s i d e a n d K a n t a n d t h e E n l i g h t e n m e n t o n t h e o t h e r . B u t t h i s d u a l i s m i s b o t h too l i m i t e d a n d too a l l - i n c l u s i v e ; R o m a n t i c i s m a n d E n l i g h t e n m e n t w e r e not s o o p p o s e d as t h e y s o m e t i m e s s e e m e d , a n d , i n a n y case, t h e c o n f u s i n g i n t e r p l a y o f forces a n d o p i n ions o f this p e r i o d c a n hardly b e r e d u c e d t o t w o coherent factions. Schiller, i n particul a r , was t h e c h a m p i o n b o t h o f l i b e r t y a n d r a t i o n a l a u t o n o m y , o n t h e o n e h a n d , a n d t h e f o r e m o s t s p o k e s m a n f o r t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f p o e t i c e x p r e s s i o n i n t h e realization o f hum a n perfectibility.

57

The Spirit of the Times

the poets and Romantic philosophers was far less substantial than their very basic agreement i n the n a t u r e of what had t o be done.**

Nature a n d Spirıt: Hölderlin’s Grand Metaphor All drink joy from Mother Nature A l l she suckled a t her breast Good or evil, every creature Follows where her foot is pressed. —Schiller, Ode to Joy (Beethoven's t e x t i n his 9th Symphony.)

One way o f describing what had t o be done was “the synthesis o f Nature and Spirit,” but this again is a technical problem i n philosophy which has much broader significance for society as a whole. The new humanism had replaced both the old naturalism and traditional religion, particularly i n France, where the Revolution destroyed whatever faith m i g h t have been left i n either the intrinsic goodness o f h u m a n n a t u r e o r the watchful eye o f G o d o n m a n . A s for n a t u r e as such, its sudden eclipse before the bright new sun o f h u m a n affairs was already so evident i n England, in the early days o f the industrial

revolution. Humanity no longer had

to

cope with

nature,

fitting i n

and s u r v i v i n g as best w e c o u l d ; n a t u r e n o w served humanity, p r o v i d i n g raw materials, new territories, a n d battlefields. T h i s was nowhere more evident t h a n i n the new aesthetics o f the “sublime,” i n E d m u n d B u r k e a n d Kant, for example, i n which the once dangerous and o m -

inous threats o f natural wilderness now became “majestic” and “inspiring” objects for our enjoyment and artistic appreciation. Mountains once presented obstacles; they now provided scenic rides a n d

picturesque landscapes. The roaring sea was once a boundary and a treacherous challenge; now i t was

to

be viewed w i t h detachment a n d

appreciation. When Fichte announced i n his philosophy that

nature

was nothing b u t a stage for h u m a n endeavors, o r when Schelling de-

fended his thesis that n a t u r e was but part of the cosmic artwork, they were n o t expressing a view

that

was all that different from the general

and still prevailing attitude toward n a t u r e . The threats o f this world were now for the m o s t part human, and i f there were still famines 25. Thus Richard K r o n e r d i s c u s s e s t h e young H e g e l as a “ r o m a n t i c ” i n h i s I n t r o duction t o Hegel's Early Theological Writings, translated by T.M. Knox (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago, 1 9 4 8 ) , w h i l e H . S . Harris i n h i s Hegel's Development e m p h a s i z e s Hegel's heritage from (as well as criticism o f ) t h e Enlightenment. B o t h views a r e entirely c o r r e c t , a n d i t i s t h e distinction

b e t w e e n t h e t w o movements, n o t H e g e l ' s c o n f u s i o n o r s y n t h e t i c g e -

nius, that deserves criticism.

58

Setting the Stage

and occasional earthquakes, they would be considered more the impertinence of a usually obedient s e r v a n t rather than the authority of a masterly nature. And yet, the German ideal typically stressed “man’s unity with nature,” a unity that seemed to have been lost i n the complexities o f

modern society. Urban human life had domesticated nature, reduced i t t o the small plots and preserves called “parks” and caged it i n zoos. I n this perspective, Hegel's Swiss Alpine hikes are n o t o f mere incidental interest; we can see h i m , like Rousseau wandering through the

forests o f St. Germain, a t peace with the world and away from striving and struggling humanity, a t least for the weekend. Accordingly, the poets a n d philosophers made a myth o u t o f the country, the “simplicities” o f rural life, the “ n a t u r a l ” lıfe.?6

By 1800, then, the citizens of the cities of Europe experienced a sense o f “alienation” that would have been unimaginable only a few decades before, a sense o f detachment from nature, a sense o f its utter irrelevance t o human concerns. With this i n m i n d , Fichte’s philosophy, for example, is n o t nearly so incomprehensible as i t m i g h t b e otherwise; n a t u r e “ i n itself” means very little to us i n o u r sense o f

ourselves. Schelling was outraged by Fichte’s easy dismissal of the whole o f n a t u r e a n d science, b u t his o w n view also rendered n a t u r e a n int r i n s i c p a r t o f t h e h u m a n world, e v e n i f “ i n i t s e l f ” as well.*” N a t u r e had been conquered; i t now threatened t o become all but extinct as well.

A similar “alienation” was evident in the vacuum o f what once h a d

been an all-powerful religion that dictated even the minutest details o f people’ lives. B y 1800, Christianity was b u t a n institution. G o d was too

abstract, too far away, too “transcendent.” One could reach o u t

to

h i m , b u t the business o f the world was far too immediate, what Hegel

calls in the Phenomenology “the preoccupation with the sensuous. . . like worms, contenting themselves with dirt and water” I n this new world o f wholly human hopes and conflicts, then, one of the necessary tasks o f philosophy would have t o be t o bring n a t u r e and religion 26. John McDermott, i n his Culture of Experience: Philosophical Essays in the American Grain ( N e w York: N e w York Univ. Press, 1976), makes the good p o i n t that n o comparable m y t h o l o g y has been developed about the city—except that i t is decadent, dirty,

dangerous, etc. H e is talking about America, but the same point applies well i n early 19th-century Germany, a n d , o f course, to 18th-century Paris. 27. J o h a n n Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) was o n e o f t h e foremost followers o f K a n t a n d a n i m m e d i a t e influence o n Schelling a n d thus, o n e step removed, o n Hegel. We

shall discuss h i m at some length i n the next chapter but, i n a phrase, his philosophy consisted i n putting a l l o f t h e emphasis o n morality, t h u s r e l e g a t i n g t o secondary p l a c e

(as a stage for h u m a n moral action) t h e whole o f nature.

The Spirit o f the Times

59

back into human life i n some relevant way. The problem was given a certain technical posture by the fact that Kant made a brutal distinction between the world of knowledge and n a t u r e and the world o f morality and faith, but despite the centrality o f the demand t o “systematize” Kant among the post-Kantians, the drive behind this technical demand was a very real and common concern for the place o f

Nature and Spirit in the new world o f human affairs. I t is a t this point that w e should introduce the single m o s t powerful influence on Hegel’s vision i n the Phenomenology: Friedrich Hölderlin. They m e t i n 1789-90 and roomed together in a loft i n Tübingen the following year. T h e y were the same age, shared many o f the same

interests, and quickly became fast friends. Even as a student, Holderlin began t o prove his poetic genius, and by 1800 he was recognized by Goethe and Schiller as an extremely “promising” young writer. B u t in fact, his works o f genius had already been written, i f not fully

appreciated by those t w o poetic tyrants i n Weimar.2® Hölderlin d i d n o t by himself invent the grand metaphor of the age, which was soon t o find its way into the greatest philosophy book o f

the new century,—Hegel’s Phenomenology. H e drew i t from the whole culture a r o u n d h i m , from Goethe and Schiller and the Lutheran the-

ology, from Kant and Fichte, from Klopstock and the early Sturm und Drang poets and, perhaps m o s t of all, from his reading of the ancient Greeks. I t is a n image which seems foreign to us, b u t it would have

seemed almost common-sensical t o his generation; i t is this: the image of a universal spiritual force, which manifests itself i n all things and uses t h e m to its o w n purposes. T h e spirit has n o existence o f its own, i f by that we mean some independent status apart from its various

manifestations in the world—Ilike the traditional Judeo-Christian God, who exists apart from and existed before his creation. But yet, on Holderlin’s view, everything is a manifestation o f the divine Spirit—the cockroach o n the wall, the tragedies o f human history, the conventions of civilized society, and the words and inspirations of the poet. A n d since everything is a manifestation o f spirit, everything too, n o matter how seemingly pointless o r devoid o f meaning t o us, has its necessary place i n the over-all scheme of things. The grand metaphor is one of effusion, cosmic spirit making itself known t o us and t o itself through its use o f nature, human history and, most o f all, the spiritual sciences (Geusteswissenschaften) and po2 8 . F o r a g o o d d i s c u s s i o n o f Hölderlin,

to

see C h r i s t o p h e r Middleton's Introduction

his translations of Hölderlin i n Hölderlin and Möricke (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago

Press, 1972) a n d Michael Hamburger, Reason and Energy (New York: Grove Press, 1957), ch. 1. Also, Agnes Stansfield, Hölderlin (Manchester: Manchester U n i v . Press, 1944).

60

Setting the Stage

etry i n particular. H e , Hölderlin, is a spokesman for the divine. His poetry is divinely inspired, but he is only a vehicle, used by the Spirit. Goethe had employed a similar metaphor, but by way of a more personal “demon.” Hegel would also see himself as a spokesman for Spirit, but for him, more than for Hölderlin, that Spirit is distinctly human. But it 1s Hölderlin who raises this vision of all-encompassing or “absolute” Spirit realizing itself through all o f us, infusing n a t u r e as its

physical manifestation, pervading human history as the path of its self-realization, a n d speaking through the poets as a way o f finally

coming t o realize who and what “it” is, namely, everything. But for Hölderlin, “everything” has a distinctly spiritual hue. There is no such thing as mere matter, d u l l n a t u r e as a n impersonal Newtonian mechanism. T h e r e is n o mere contingency to h u m a n history (“one damn

thing after another” according t o poet John Masefield). Nature itself is spiritual. Humanity and human history are spiritual. And God, who h a d been denied b y the more atheistic thinkers o f the Enlightenment, now re-emerges i n n a t u r e and human history.

The Role o f Religion Through the bath o f its revolution . . . I think i t would be interesting t o disturb the theologians as much as possible i n their ant-lhike industry as they amass critical building materials t o strengthen their Gothic temple, t o make everything difficult for them, t o whip them o u t o f every nook and subterfuge till they . . . had t o show their nakedness i n the daylight. —Hegel, letter t o Schelling (1795)

The period that concerns us is often characterized i n a very different way, as the breakdown o f religion a n d the chaos that follows. O f course, religion h a d been “breaking d o w n ” for many years, even before the

Reformation, but the Enlightenment i n England and France contributed more than its share t o the near-total secularization of human life. I w a n t t o challenge t h i s too c o m m o n v i e w o n a t least t w o counts;

first, i t is a negative view, like talking about the “ F a l l o f the Roman

Empire” without asking what replaced it (“dark ages” won’t do—a classicist conceit: i n fact, the “barbarians” who replaced Rome w e r e those we now proudly call “Europeans”). I f religion collapsed, it was because something more powerful and more attractive had replaced i t , the “new world” we keep alluding to, a world i n which human happiness, human dignity, human autonomy reign supreme. Second, the idea o f a religious breakdown ignores t h e internal development

The Spirit of the Times

61

o f Christianity itself—although whether this represents progress or regress depends o n your point of view. The question of the role of

religion in modern society is essential because Hegel is typically viewed as a Christian philosopher, i n fact, a philosopher whose main concern was the defense and “rationalization” of Christianity. And so we shall have t o come back t o this question again and again.?® T h e demise o f religion was the beginning o f a new world, a thor-

oughly human world. Hegel, i n particular, was very concerned with and disdainful of the whole traditional opposition of God and man, which he viewed as nothing less than a “Master-Slave” relation which made impossible human dignity. Before him, Kant, whose piety was never i n question, insisted that religion be wholly subservient t o mo-

rality, a “postulate o f practical reason,” thus dramatically reducing its status from absolute to derivative and dependent. Before Kant, H u m e had written a devastating s e t o f arguments against even this conserv-

ative enterprise i n his Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion,®*® and, of course, there were many who would say that even Luther half de-

stroyed Christianity by turning i t inward, rejecting church authority, and secularizing its spirit. But the reasoning behind all of this seems t o m e far more important than the survival o f religion as such. The question, “ w h a t good is religion i f i t doesn’t make us happier a n d more virtuous?”—a common question i n the later 18th century—would not

have been comprehensible five hundred years before. Faith was

obligatory, happiness a fleeting illusion. I f Aquinas labored to recon-

cile Christianity with Aristotle's humanism, ı t was never by challengi n g Christianity i n the name o f pagan happiness. With the Enlightenment, faith was o n the defensive, and from the humanistic point o f view, quite rightly s o . ) Within the Christian religion, however, the seeds o f secularization 29. Hegel's philosophy of religion is extensively discussed i n J.M.E. McTaggart, Studies i n Hegelian Cosmology (Cambridge: C a m b r i d g e U n i v . Press, 1 9 0 1 ) , a n d m o r e r e c e n t l y i n

Emil Fackenheim’s The Religious Dimension in Hegel's Thought, (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. P r e s s , 1967). I h a v e a r g u e d a g a i n s t t h e r e l i g i o u s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n i n my “ T h e S e c r e t o f H e g e l : Kierkegaard'’s C o m p l a i n t ” (Philosophical Forum, 1978), w h i c h forms t h e skele t o n o f C h a p t e r 9 here.

30. David Hume, o f whom we shall say something i n the n e x t chapter, was a leading S c o t t i s h p h i l o s o p h e r o f t h e E n l i g h t e n m e n t . H i s Dialogues w e r e s o militantly atheistic that he prudentially p u t off publication until after his death, i n 1776. 31. Even K a n t ’ s Religion within the Bounds o f Reason A l o n e o f 1793, for w h i c h h e w a s c h a s t i s e d by t h e c e n s o r s , undermined huge p o r t i o n s o f Christian dogma while a l s o claiming to defend them. Hegel's own early writings, greatly influenced by Kant, were very much a n t i - C h r i s t i a n , a n d i n t h e Phenomenology, w h e n his p o s i t i o n h a s become m o r e conciliatory, h e b l a m e s t h e e n l i g h t e n m e n t — h i s o w n early influences—for i t s overkill i n

o f r e l i g i o n . I n a t t a c k i n g superstition, t h e E n l i g h t e n m e n t s e e m e d to have a t t a c k e d all v e s t i g e s o f s u p r a - i n d i v i d u a l m e a n i n g f u l n e s s as well, l e a v i n g , i n H e g e l ' s view, a spiritual v o i d . matters

62

can be traced back

Setting the Stage to

the beginnings. Judaism, whatever else i t was,

began as a n attempt to cope with everyday life; it was a religion o f

laws and practices rather than theology and faith. Jesus, Hegel argued i n his early years, was fundamentally a moralist, and i n the 4th century, Saint Augustine fought a n eventually losing battle with the

English monk Pelagius, who defended the importance of “good works” as well as faith in Christianity. Augustine saw that i n Pelagius lay the seeds o f destruction for faith, and h e was right. T h e “Pelagian her-

esy” increasingly humanized Christianity, until the Enlightenment completed the long process by insisting that religion, like a r t , morality, and science, was a purely Auman institution. The philosopher Spinoza, who had enormous influence i n Germany around the time o f Hegel's youth (a hundred years after Spinoza’s death), had woven an image o f a single “pantheistic” universe, in which God was nothing other than his creation; and the philosopher Fichte, just older than Hegel, went so far as to suggest that G o d was nothing other than the

human moral order. But what makes all o f this confusing is the fact that virtually all o f these thinkers, except a few o f the French atheists

and David Hume, continued t o call themselves “religious” and use traditional religious terminology. Spinoza still called the universe (“the One Substance”) “God,” and Fichte sometimes employed figures from the Trinity i n his arguments. We have already seen that even Goethe

used the language o f “salvation” and the “redemption” and so, when Hegel uses similar language, including his most central word, “Spirit,” we must be extremely cautious.?? Sometimes, he and his colleagues define religion as nothing other than a concern for “ t h e infinite,” b u t

as we have anticipated, this may have minimal significance for what has usually been called religion. I n fact, o n such a view, the existence o f G o d can be reduced t o a mere tautology, a falsely pious way o f

saying that “there is indeed a universe.” And yet, the theologian Karl Barth has said without hesitation that Hegel's ambition was t o be the Protestant Aquinas, and generations o f Hegel scholars have taken his Christian ambitions, however unor-

thodox, t o be the very heart of his philosophy. But the spirit o f the times was going the other way, despite the c o u n t e r - c u r r e n t o f Catho-

lic conversions among the Romantics. Hegel, of all philosophers, was a self-conscious spokesman for his times. The problems of religion were now corollaries t o the ideals o f humanism, and i f the language 3 2 . A n u m b e r o f years l a t e r , e v e n s u c h v e h e m e n t a t h e i s t s as S c h o p e n h a u e r a n d Nietzsche w o u l d c o n t i n u e t o use t h e l a n g u a g e o f “redemption” a n d “spirit.” These t e r m s a r e as d e e p l y e n g r a i n e d i n t h e G e r m a n philosophical v o c a b u l a r y as t h e t r a d i t i o n a l c o n c e p t s o f G r e e k p h i l o s o p h y ( “ s u b s t a n c e , ” “ c a t e g o r y , ” “ s o u l ” ) a n d as s u c h i n d i c a t e v e r y l i t t l e about t h e a c t u a l c o n t e n t o f their thinking.

The Spirit of the Times

63

o f Christianity still pervaded German philosophy, the substance had long ago been altered beyond recognition. A historian, perhaps, looking a t the long and extremely varied tradition from Augustine and Pelagius to L u t h e r a n d Kant, m i g h t be willing to say, w i t h some qualification, that H e g e l was still a Christian, i n the m u c h revised sense o f

that t e r m . B u t as philosophers, looking ahead t o the coup de grace by Feuerbach and M a r x , we can just as easily say that Hegel was one o f the first great philosophical humanists i n a time w h e n the world itself

had become thoroughly humanized.

Chapter Two F r o m Kant t o Hegel

Kant is the basıs and the point of departure for the whole o f modern German philosophy. —Hegel, Logic

Hegel read widely i n philosophy, both as a student and, more impressively, after h e h a d graduated. H e was, to say the least, a n eclectic

thinker, who would have admitted quite self-consciously that his influences included virtually the whole of Western thought.! And some Eastern thoughts too.? O n e can trace his major metaphysical ideas to

the pre-Socratic philosophers of ancient Greece (Stace)® o r t o Aristotle (Mure,* Weiss?) or t o Spinoza, who was enjoying an underground revival i n Germany. (Lessing, Jacobi, Fichte, Schleliermacher,

and Schelling were all Spinoza enthusiasts.) A n d o f course, one can trace many o f Hegel's ideas t o Rousseau and other Enlightenment philosophers i n England and France, as well as Germany, and t o the usually woolly thoughts of the German Romantic poets, Herder, and the historians, a n d at

to

the theological theories h e studied as a student

Tübingen.°® But the philosophical tradition in which Hegel emerged I . H e says as much, even a t t h e outset o f his career, i n his 1801 essay, “Differenz des

Ficht-schen u n d Schelling'schen Systems der Philosophie.” The Difference B e t w e e n Fichte's

and

Schelling’s System o f Philosophy, t r a n s . H . S . H a r r i s a n d Walter C e r f (S.U.N.Y. Press, A l -

bany, 1977), e s p . 114 ff (Differenz-essay). T h e definitive statement, o f c o u r s e , a r e his Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy ( i n t h r e e volumes, t r a n s . E . S . H a l d a n e a n d F r a n c e s H . Simson ( N e w York: Humanities Press, 1955), i n which h e portrays h i m s e l f as t h e c u l m i n a t i o n o f t h e whole o f the history o f t h o u g h t . (Lectures).

2. F o r example, t o t h e Hindus i n t h e

i n t h e first volume o f h i s Lectures a n d i n h i s (dubious) third v o l u m e o f h i s Encyclopaedia. 3. Walter Stace, The Philosophy of Hegel (New York: Dover, 1955).

references

4. G.R.G. Mure, The Philosophy o f Hegel ( O x f o r d : Oxford Univ. Press, 1965). 5. Frederick Weiss, Hegel's Critique o f Aristotle’s Philosophy o fMind (The Hague: Nijhoff,

1969). 6. F o r a n e x c e l l e n t s t u d y o f H e g e l ’ s p l a c e i n t h e m i d s t o f Romanticism, see M.H. A b r a m s , Natural SuperNaturalism. T h e classic s t u d y o f H e g e l a n d his poet f r i e n d H o l d e r l i n is Hegel u n d Hölderlin b y J. T ü b i n g e n , 1831), a n d more recently, D i e t e r H e n r i c h

i n his Hegel im Kontext (Frankfurt, 1971). A detailed a c c o u n t o f Hegel’s studies is H a r -

64

From Kant to Hegel

65

was most immediately dominated a n d defined b y one philosopher

alone, Immanuel Kant. I t was Kant’s view o f religion as a function o f

“practical reason,” i.e. morality, that provoked Hegel's first serious philosophical polemics, and i t was Kant’s ethics that provided his first philosophical position as such. Ultimately i t was the whole o f Kant’s magnificent revolution i n philosophy that made Hegel's system possible. Hegel’s technical apparatus and language are almost wholly Kantian. T h e approach his system assumes, the problems i n philoso-

phy it tries

to

solve, and m o s t importantly, what i t simply takes for

granted, can o n l y b e understood i n the context o f Kant and his most

immediate critics, i n particular Fichte, Schelling, and the self-styled “Romantic” philosophers.’ O n the one hand, the problems facing Kant and his critics are ex-

tremely technical —problems created by philosophers for other philosophers. But they are also manifestations of the “spirit o f the times,’ very human problems which can be restated i n quite ordinary language. M y aim in this chapter, therefore, will be t o try t o capture the sense o f these very difficult authors, i n a simple but, it is hoped, not too simple-minded way, for those many readers o f H e g e l w h o are quite reasonably n o t w i l l i n g to postpone their reading until they have

mastered the whole o f German philosophy. Kant too was a c r e a t u r e o f his time. I n introductory philosophy

classes, we learn about Kant as a disembodied philosophical synthesizer, anxious t o r e c a s t the philosophy o f Leibniz he learned when he was i n school i n such a way as t o m e e t the skeptical criticisms o f David H u m e . B u t Kant was also a n amateur scientist a n d astronomer, a self-

appointed spokesman for the Enlightenment, an unflagging enthusiast o f the French Revolution, a pious L u t h e r a n , a moralistic puritan,

a virgin, an entertaining wit, a lover of good sherry. His use of Leibniz and his answer t o H u m e were b u t parts o f a much broader campaign, not

only i n philosophy, and

not

only i n the spirit of the Enlighten-

m e n t , b u t in the wake o f Luther’s Reformation, with its o w n stress o n piety, autonomy, the rejection o f c h u r c h authority, the emphasis o n

faith and “good works” and the moral aspect of religion. I n fact, Kant’s synthesis of Leibniz and Hume—or the t w o quarreling movements called “rationalism” and “empiricism” respectively—was one of his more minor contributions within the Enlightenment tradition. His most ris'’s Hegel's Development ( w h i c h I will b e c i t i n g frequently i n t h e n e x t c h a p t e r ) . A sche-

matic overview is i n Charles Taylor's Hegel (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1975). 7. T h e s t a n d a r d s t u d y o f Hegel i n h i s c o n t e x t i s Richard K r o n e r ’ s Von K a n t bis Hegel ( T ü b i n g e n , 1921) a n d m o r e recently, D . Henrich, Hegel i m Kontext,

Setting the Stage

66

important work—Pparticularly i n its German context—was the radical revamping of just that tradition itself. The movement chartered by Kant and subsequently adopted by Fichte, Schelling and Hegel has generally been called “German Idealism.” Idealism, simply defined, is the philosophy that the world depends upon “ideas,” that objects exist only insofar as they are objects

of consciousness. Idealism denies the independent existence of the physical world and insists instead that the world is, i n some sense, a

product o f the activity of consciousness. The word “activity” is crucial here, for there are also forms of idealism, some of which were popular i n England at the time, which insisted that the world consisted o f “ideas” b u t gave n o particular role t o our own conscious activity i n the production o f them.? T h i s theme, o n the other hand, w o u l d be

absolutely central t o Kant and t o those who followed him. The very idea o f idealism must seem extremely odd t o the American reader, who has been brought u p i n the common-sense tradition

of the English Enlightenment and the nuts-and-bolts thinking of the “pioneer” tradition. We tend t o think in t e r m s of particular problems, practical problems, and the idea o f the world as something “ i n our

minds” seems t o our way of thinking an utterly ridiculous philosophical starting point. B u t even i n o u r emphasis o n “practice,” o u r o w n

ideas and intentions are obviously instrumental i n “setting up” the problem, as well as the solution, and this is perhaps the way t o begin t o appreciate what this very foreign philosophical tradition is after.!? The question is, t o what e x t e n t and i n what way are we responsible for “setting up” our world? I f we think of ourselves i n a great European or American city, for example, i t is obvious that virtually everything we see, except perhaps a small patch of grass or sky, has been literally created by human beings, conceived and designed, as well as 8. Thus Heinrich H e i n e ’ s f a m o u s d e s c r i p t i o n o f K a n t i n h i s Religion a n d Philosophy i n Germany: A Fragment, i n w h i c h h e r i g h t l y compares K a n t t o R o b e s p i e r r e : “ t h e s a m e i n e x o r a b l e c u t t i n g p r o s a i c s o b e r sense o f h o n o r a n d integrity,” “ t h e s a m e t a l e n t for distrust,” the same “ b o u r g e o i s ” personality, a n d t h e same cataclysmic effects o n the whole o f t h e i r respective worlds (Werke, V, 137, trans. J o h n Snodgrass ( L o n d o n , 1981)). 9. O n e example, o f course, w o u l d have been B i s h o p George Berkeley, w h o preceded

Hegel b y

t h e b e t t e r p a r t o f a c e n t u r y ; b u t o n e m i g h t a l s o c i t e t h e s o - c a l l e d British

Hegelians w h o followed h i m , almost a century later, including F.H. Bradley and |.M.E. McTaggart. 1 0 . T h e American r e p r e s e n t a t i v e o f t h i s position i s J o h n D e w e y , w h o o p e n l y ac-

knowledged his debt to Hegel. W i t h the general eclipse o f Hegel's philosophy i n Ameri c a , i t i s s o m e t i m e s difficult t o remember t h a t m u c h o f e a r l y American p h i l o s o p h y w a s essentially H e g e l i a n , i n c l u d i n g n o t o n l y t h a t o f D e w e y b u t J o s i a h R o y c e a n d a whole “ s c h o o l ” o f H e g e l i a n s i n S t . Louis, i n t h e d a y s w h e n t h a t c i t y was still t h e “ g a t e w a y ” t o

t h e u n e x p l o r e d West. I n d e e d , as 1 shall a r g u e later o n , the “pragmatist” aspect o f Hegel is extremely strong, as Royce a n d Dewey were well aware. See, e.g., W. Goetzman, The A m e r i c a n Hegelians: A n I n t e l l e c t u a l Episode i n Western America

(New York: Knopf, 1973).

From Kant to Hegel

67

built, through the resources of the human mind. This is n o t yet idealism, o f course, b u t this simple urban fact is the beginning o f a n

insight that will make the work o f the idealists much more sympathetic to us: t h e world is a h u m a n world, the product o f h u m a n con-

sciousness. Idealism 1s a philosophical expression, i n extreme forms, o f this

very modern viewpoint. I t is an attempt

to

reinterpret the whole of

o u r shared experience as, i n some sense, the product o f h u m a n con-

sciousness, rather than the “given” effects o f

a

world which already

exists, “ i n and for itself,” independently o f us. B u t this leads the Germ a n Idealists t o begin with t w o sets o f expectations which, to us, at

first seem wholly unfamiliar: first, there 1s the expectation that the “true” philosophical a c c o u n t o f the way the world “really” is will have little similarity t o common sense, and display only the most t e n u o u s connections with everyday experience. Second, it 1s t o be expected that philosophy will p u t a n enormous stress o n experience itself, o n consciousness, a n d o n powers o f consciousness that seem, from a common-sense point o f view, t o be absurd.

The peculiarity o f philosophical systems, i n their various attempts t o describe the way the world “really” is, “behind” the appearances, is, o f course, as old as philosophy itself. When Thales said, “everything is water,” no doubt he was thought t o be making no sense a t all; b u t i t is only a difference i n subtlety from that first crude attempt to the fantastic pictures o f the universe we n o w accept, i f not u n d e r stand, i n Einstein, Heisenberg, a n d o u r m o d e r n cosmologists. I t is the first step i n t o philosophy—indeed, perhaps, i t is the entrance re-

quirement—that we recognize a certain incoherence i n our accounts o f the world, a certain inadequacy i n o u r common-sense perspectives. A n d so w e d e v e l o p a model, to rectify t h e incoherence, to fill i n t h e

conceptual gaps. The model runs into trouble, both i n its confrontation with alternative philosophical models and i n its confrontation w i t h common sense; counter-examples are suggested, new inconsist-

encles discovered, and sometimes the metaphorical connotations of a model are incompatible with feelings and prejudices which are a t least as important t o us as “truth.” A n d so it is revised, throughout the career o f every philosopher, and throughout the history of philosophy, always with an eye t o the problems, but also, always with an eye to the times, its emotional needs as well as ideological demands.

The apt example, and the forerunner o f the German Idealists from Kant t o Hegel, is the philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz (1646—

1716), the first universal genius o f Germany and, perhaps, the last in Europe. H e was a scientist, mathematician, diplomat, theologian, and,

68

Setting the Stage

i n the best sense of the word,

a

metaphysician. He discovered the

calculus before N e w t o n and invented one o f the first computers. H e

defended the Enlightenment, traveled widely, suggested the possibility o f a single international language, and looked forward t o the day when all human disputes could be settled with a simple “calculation.” I n his metaphysics, Leibniz developed a fantastic picture o f the way the world “really” is, almost a fairy tale i n its seeming childish imaginative simplicity, but built into its every proposition was, i n effect, the whole history o f philosophy and the collective aspirations of modern Europe. H e suggested t h a t the world actually was composed o f a plu-

rality of substances, which he called “monads,” each one a living consciousness separated totally from every other monad but precisely coordinated with them by the super-monad, God. Immediately, the picture shows us that Leibniz is concerned, as the whole Enlightenm e n t was concerned, w i t h the autonomy o f individuals, the problem

of their separation (or what Hegel and Marx would call their “alienation”) and the need t o believe i n some ultimate harmony and rationality o f the whole, i n this case, guaranteed b y God. A n d that means that everything happens for a good reason—a doctrine Leibniz called

“The Principle of Sufficient Reason.” The model has built into it a host of laborious distinctions and requirements inherited from other philosophers, e.g.: the idea that “substances” are necessarily independent and c a n n o t interact with one another; the idea that the explanation of the activities of a monad m u s t be “internal”—in t e r m s of what i t is trying t o do—instead of merely external—in t e r m s of the laws of Newtonian physics. (Both these ideas would have m o m e n t o u s importance for the German Idealists.) Leibniz was also trying t o support common-sense hopes a n d demands, for example, that everything happens for a reason, t h a t every event has its meaning as well as its causes, and that the w o r l d , i n God’s hands, was as good as i t

could possibly be (“the best o f all possible worlds”). His philosophical system was an attempt, then, t o give a behind-the-scenes a c c o u n t o f

the world of ordinary experience, provide an answer t o both real life concerns a n d technical philosophical problems, all tied together i n a n

imaginative, ingenious, and hopefully complete and coherent package o f ideas and images. A n d i f we have lost o u r t a s t e for such systems, perhaps that is indeed a loss. Alfred North Whitehead, for ex-

ample, once w r o t e that “the decline of speculative philosophy is one of the symptoms o f the decline of civilization.” The second feature of German Idealism that m u s t be understood in t e r m s of its long history is its almost obsessive emphasis o n consciousness, or what the idealists sometimes call “subjectivity” or “ego.”

From Kant to Hegel

69

O n the one hand, this obsession is a logical product o f a commonsense proposition, namely, that everything we know about the world comes t o us through o u r experience o r through ideas, in other words, through consciousness. B u t this common-sense belief must i n t u r n be

explained. (The Greek philosophers, for example, would n o t even have understood it.) A large part o f the explanation comes from Christianity, with its emphasis o n the spirit and the “inner” resources o f humanity. T h e Reformation, i n particular, rejected the “external”

authority o f the church i n favor of the “internal” dictates of conscience, and the Christian concept of the soul, whatever else i t might have done, indelibly marked our conception of the world with this insistence o n the “internal.” I n modern philosophy, the same emphasis o n intellectual autonomy defined the epoch-making philosophy o f

René Descartes, who insisted on the need for each person

to

decide,

for oneself, what was true a n d what was false, o n the basis o f one’s o w n arguments a n d experience. I t is a notion that virtually defines

the Enlightenment, and, consequently, i t is a notion that still defines our own way of thinking. But this seemingly innocent emphasis on consciousness takes a hazardous t u r n as soon as one begins t o reflect o n i t : i f everything we know depends o n consciousness, then h o w can

we ever know anything outside of consciousness? We can see how easily Descartes’s followers, including Leibniz and the sceptic David Hume, could argue that, i n effect, we can know only o u r ideas and experience. A n d from this, i t is a n easy step t o the dilemma: either we accept

the intolerable suggestion that we really don’t know anything about the world outside o f us, or, we somehow argue that o u r ideas and

experience themselves are constitutive of the world. And so we become idealists. This 1s where idealist metaphysics begins, a n d we shall see

that Fichte, simply taking for granted the established idealistic tradition from Leibniz t o Kant, starts his entire philosophy with exactly this chain of reasoning.!! German Idealism, then, consists o f a series o f ingenious attempts t o work o u t a system which includes both o u r everyday experience

and beliefs and this peculiar view that the world depends o n o u r o w n

ideas and experiences. There are obvious problems: what does this d o to science, which seems to theorize n o t about o u r ideas b u t a n 11. So too Schelling, w h o begins his System des Transcendentalen Idealismus (Tübingen; 1 8 0 0 ) with t h e insistence t h a t w e c h o o s e b e t w e e n two—and o n l y two—possible cases: e i t h e r “ t h e object m a y b e t a k e n as primary a n d t h e n w e a s k h o w a subjective f a c t o r t h a t a g r e e s with i t c a n bej o i n e d t o i t ” o r “ t h e s u b j e c t i v e f a c t o r m a y b e t a k e n as p r i m a r y a n d t h e p r o b l e m t h e n i s h o w a n object t h a t a g r e e s with i t c a n be j o i n e d t o i t . ” I t i s i m p o r t a n t t o begin by a p p r e c i a t i n g t h e fact t h a t s u c h q u e s t i o n s w e r e simply a c c e p t e d a t f a c e v a l u e i n H e g e l ' s t i m e , well b e f o r e t h e p o i n t e d criticisms o f such figures as N i e t z s c h e a n d Wittgenstein. But, o f course, t o appreciate this i s n o t t o fall i n t o i t .

70

Setting the Stage

objective world? What of religion, which speaks of matters essentially beyond o u r experience? A n d what o f the practical concerns o f life?—

How do these fantastic revisions of our ways of seeing the world effect them? Beneath the obscure and sometimes hateful language of the German Idealists are some o f the most inspiring—and dangerous— images ın the history of Western thinking.

Immanuel Kant (1724—1804) Kant is the Moses o f our nation, who leads them o u t of their Egyptian inertia into the free and open desert o f his speculations, and w h o b r i n g s d o w n t h e r i g o r o u s law f r o m t h e h o l y m o u n t a i n . — H é l d -

erlin, (1799)

Hegel considered Kant “the basis and point o f departure o f modern German philosophy”; i n his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, h e gave Kant a place equalled only by Plato a n d Aristotle.!? Kant was the

grand synthesis of the warring schools of thought that preceded him. More importantly, he is the Abraham o f virtually every Western philosophical movement o f the past t w o centuries—pragmatism, existentialism, logical positivism, process philosophy and phenomenology, transcendental idealism, and social realism. I t would border o n absurdity t o t r e a t h i m merely as a n “influence” o n German philosophy o f the early 19th century; without Kant, there could have been n o

such philosophy. There is n o possibility o f doing justice t o Kant’s complex “architectonic” i n a handful o f pages, but i t should be possible t o sketch o u t

his main concerns, his method of treating them, and his revolutionary conclusions. I n a

sentence:

H i s main concern is the m u t u a l defense

and reconciliation of scientific knowledge and the “practical” values o f morality and religion i n a single “systematic” view o f the universe. His method is Cartesian—borrowed from Descartes—and consists i n the examination o f one’s own experience with an eye t o developing internal (“subjective”) criteria for truth and “objectivity.” His philosophy thus becomes the critical analysis o f human consciousness and “reason,” t o prove the necessity o f o u r experience o f the “external” world and the limitations o f those laws which apply, respectively, t o that world of n a t u r e and the very different world o f human free12. I n Vol. 3, pp. 423-78.

From Kant to Hegel

71

dom. I t is a “critique” o f reason i n the sense o f a demonstration o f

both the limits of reason and what i t is rational t o believe.13 Kant’s main problem was n o t a technical philosophical puzzle, as i t may appear t o be o n a first reading o f his work; i t was a deep personal

problem which he shared with m o s t of the “enlightened” figures of his times. Science and religion had been warring since the Renaissance, and each had claimed universal validity a t the expense o f the other. There had been a time when all scientific hypotheses were forced t o defend their orthodoxy by appeal t o Scripture, but those times had given way t o the world of Newton and the Enlightenment, i n which the doctrines of the church were now forced t o justify themselves i n the equally uncompromising c o u r t of scientific evidence. Kant was a devotee of Isaac Newton’s physics, but he was also a devout Christian. How could he reconcile his religion with the mechanical Newtonian world o f bodies i n m o t i o n , i n which a m a n was b u t a piece o f the machine, and G o d , i f h e were part o f the hypothesis at all, seemed relegated to the role o f the great watch-winder, setting the great

universe-machine i n motion but then finding himself without further duties. I n the world of practice, however, human responsibility found itself required t o deny the determinacy o f its actions and found belief in God incompatible with belief i n the mechanical autonomy of the world. A n d so Kants problem was clear—to reconcile these warring opposites a n d make i t possible for a m a n like himself t o be a wholehearted Newtonian, a devout Christian, and a responsible c i t i z e n!4.

The reconciliation o f knowledge and practice was n o t Kant’s only problem. Both realms had been recently under attack by the Scottish philosopher, David Hume, whom Kant credits with “awakening h i m from his dogmatic slumbers.” Hume had argued mercilessly that the principles upon which the Newtonian picture of the universe and our everyday knowledge are founded are impossible to justity, either b y

appeal t o rational insight or by appeal t o experience. However indispensable such principles m i g h t be (including, among others, o u r belief that the world exists “outside” o f us), justihable they are n o t . Simi-

larly, Hume argued that moral principles and religious doctrines are 13.

Critique o f Pure Reason,

t r a n s . N o r m a n K e m p S m i t h ( N e w York: Macmillan, 1 9 5 8 )

hereafter cited CPR, w i t h t h e letters A a n d B d e s i g n a t i n g t h e original G e r m a n text, first e d i t i o n o f 1781 a n d second e d i t i o n o f 1787 respectively. T h i s quote, CPR, A xii.

14. Perhaps i t i s important t o anticipate a t t h i s p o i n t t h e fact t h a t t h i s would n o t b e t h e o v e r v i e w o f K a n t ’ s ambitions t h a t w o u l d b e held by h i s immediate followers, e s p e cially F i c h t e , Schelling, a n d H e g e l . F i c h t e a n d Hegel, i n p a r t i c u l a r , w e r e n o t nearly so e n t h r a l l e d w i t h N e w t o n i a n s c i e n c e as K a n t was, a n d t h e y a l l saw h i s s h a r p d i v i s i o n i n t o w a r r i n g opposites as the main problem o f his philosophy r a t h e r t h a n as a c o s m i c p a r a d o x K a n t h a d i n h e r i t e d from his past.

72

Setting the Stage

also beyond the scope o f rational or experiential justification. Our moral sense 1s mere “sentiment” and our religious beliefs mere superstition a n d fear. A n d so K a n t found i t necessary n o t only to rec-

oncile the warring factions but

t o justify

each o f them as well.

This second problem led to yet a t h i r d . M a n y philosophers before

him had attempted

to

justify the basic principles of knowledge and

practice, and the discipline which sought to d o this, metaphysics, “ t h e

queen of the sciences,” had been a battleground for centuries for philosophers of various persuasions without the gain of “even so much as a n i n c h o f territory” by any combatant. W h y was it so difficult for

metaphysicians t o determine what the world is “really” like? Two thousand years of interminable wrangling could only mean that something was drastically wrong with the way these disputes had been carried out.!? A n d so—we may summarize Kant’s aims i n philosophy, t o defend

and reconcile the metaphysical principles basic t o scientific knowledge and the practical values of morality, religion, and—we should add—aesthetics. T o d o so h e constructed, late in life, three m o n u -

mental Critiques: the Critique of Pure Reason (1781, 2nd ed. 1787), which attempted the defense of the metaphysical principles of science, mathematics, and knowledge i n general; Critique of Practical Reason (1788), which attempted the defense of the “practical” metaphysical ideals of morality and Christianity; the Critique of Judgment (1790), which, i n addition t o tying the other t w o Critiques together, attempted t o defend the universality of aesthetic judgments of taste and defend a n all-encompassing organic picture o f the universe, beyond the mechanical causality o f science and more in line with the German “Spirit”

of the times. These three impressive volumes were supported by various summary pamphlets and essays which elaborated upon specific aspects o f the “critical” philosophy.®

“All knowledge,” Kant tells us, “begins with experience.” But, he adds, all knowledge does not, as the empiricists argued, arise from experience. That is, some o f the principles of knowledge—its m o s t basic concepts a n d judgments—are supplied to experience. They are 15. CPR, B xv. 16. I . Kant, Kritik der praktischen Vernuuft ( F r a n k f u r t , 1795); Kritik der Urtheils-Kraft

(Berlin, 1790). Again, by

w a y o f anticipation, i t i s i m p o r t a n t t o stress t h e e n o r m o u s differences b e t w e e n t h e w a y K a n t s a w h i s o w n w o r k , w i t h a l l t h r e e b o o k s o f equal w e i g h t a n d merit, t h e w a y m o s t m o d e r n A m e r i c a n a n d English p h i l o s o p h e r s see his w o r k — i n t e r m s o f t h e first t w o Critiques only—and t h e w a y t h a t F i c h t e , Schelling, a n d

Hegel viewed his w o r k — w i t h ambivalent feelings about t h e first book, approval i f n o t dogmatic a c c e p t a n c e o f t h e s e c o n d , a n d e n t h u s i a s m ( n o t a l w a y s

i n g the third,

well d i r e c t e d ) r e g a r d -

73

From Kant to Hegel

conditions that make our experience possible; they precede every particular experience a n d so, i n Kant’s terms, are a priori—Iliterally, “before” T h e standpoint is Cartesian, b u t the strategy is novel. Like Descartes, Kant insists o n uncompromised intellectual autonomy, the

demand that whatever is worth believing can be demonstrated by the individual thinker, exercising his o r h e r o w n reason. T h e novel, even

revolutionary, twist is this: the strategy of the demonstration will be t o show that the basic principles of knowledge and morality—just those that had been doubted by sceptics—are universal and necessary principles because we ourselves supply them t o our every experience, and no other principles are possible. The basic principles o f our experience, therefore, are the “necessary conditions for any possible experie n c e 1” .’ The strategy of the first Critique, therefore, might be simply summarized as; “ W h a t are the necessary conditions for m e t o have a n

experience and, subsequently, knowledge of that experience?” And he goes on t o show that among these conditions are the existence of the world i n space a n d time, outside o f us, the existence o f substantial

objects t h a t are n o t dependent upon our particular perceptions of them, the reality o f cause and effect relations between various events that are n o t (as H u m e h a d argued) mere habits o f association o r u n -

Justified expectations on our part. And these conditions, in every case, are forms and concepts supplied b y the h u m a n m i n d . Space and time, h e tells us, are the “ a priori forms o f intuition,” while the substantial-

ity o f objects and cause and effect necessity are “ a priori concepts o f

the understanding” or, i n Kant’s jargon, categories.'® (The

term

comes

from Aristotle.) F r o m the point o f view o f the philosophers w h o immediately follow Kant—Hegel included—the strategy m i g h t be viewed as the attempt

that i s , t h e C a r t e s i a n fact o f the indubitability of one’s own conscious existence, the necessary structures o f human experience. The concept of “deduction” plays a major role in Kant as well as in his followers, but it is obvious t o everyt o “ d e d u c e ” f r o m a s i n g l e first premise,

one that the “deductions” they attempt are n o t “deductions” i n the modern sense ( o f a formal inference from one proposition t o an-

other, according

to

certain rules guaranteeing validity). A “deduc-

17. CPR, B 1-25. 18. K a n t h a d 12 categories, w h i c h he b o r r o w e d from c e r t a i n d e s e r v e d l y f o r g o t t e n theories o f psychology. Hegel rejected this “picking u p categories were he found them” a n d , f o l l o w i n g F i c h t e a n d Schelling, i n s i s t e d o n a m o r e “ s y s t e m a t i c ” w a y o f d i s c o v e r i n g t h e m . H e g e l u s e s t h e t e r m c a u t i o u s l y a n d almost a l w a y s w i t h s o m e r e f e r e n c e t o K a n t ’ s v i e w s ( e . g . Phenomenology, 235).

74

Setting the Stage

tion” is rather a demonstration (not necessarily a “proot™) o f the nec-

essary conditions of our experience, what must be the case t o make sense of our experience. I n ethics, Kant’s strategy is similar, to show from the fact that we have a sense o f morality (as opposed to mere personal desires and “Inclinations”) that certain principles are rational because they are the

necessary conditions for this moral sense, e.g. the universal validity o f m o r a l laws, a n d belief i n G o d as the overseer o f morality. B u t the key to this whole effort to “deduce” necessary principles is, from be-

ginning t o end, the demand for rational autonomy, the insistence that all rational principles m u s t be i n some sense “ m y o w n ” as well as universal, provable b y m e ( o r us) to myself (ourselves), and i n n o case

accepted merely on the basis o f habit, sentiment, tradition, or authority.

Using this Cartesian strategy, Kant solves his first and most pressing problem—the reconciliation o f knowledge and practice—by distinguishing two different activities o f consciousness: “understanding,” which gives shape to experience with its concepts, and “reason,” which “legislates laws o f freedom, to ourselves as agents.” Sometimes Kant

says that understanding and reason have “separate jurisdictions over the same territory,” the first concerned w i t h the laws o f science, the

second with the principles o f right action. At other times he says that these t w o “faculties” i n fact define “two different worlds.” But i n either case, they are n o longer antagonists. Science 1s given universal do-

main throughout the realm o f human knowledge. Morality and religion are given absolute domain throughout the world o f human practice. This distinction carries with it the potentially objectionable demand that the principles o f ethics and religion c a n n o t be known a t all. I t also leaves us with a nagging suspicion that this radical separation will make even more difficult Kant’s intention o f reconciling the t w o realms

i n such a way that the world o f knowledge and the world o f action and faith are one a n d the same world. These two considerations will b e the foci o f the dissatistactions o f Kant’s followers, notably, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. B u t before we dwell o n the difhculties o f Kant’s philosophy, we have first t o attend t o the basic radical move, his “Cop-

ernican Revolution,” which quite literally shifted the direction of philosophy from the nature o f reality “ o u t there” to the essential s t r u c tures o f h u m a n consciousness. For t w o thousand years, since Protagoras and even Socrates, phi-

losophers had been pursuing anthropocentricity i n philosophy (“man 1s the measure o f all things,” “ K n o w Thyself”). I n m o d e r n times, this

often arrogant anthropocentricity had manifested itself i n the En-

From Kant to Hegel

75

lightenment, i n the rebellion o f Descartes a n d L u t h e r against church

authority, and i n the daring attempt by Newton

to

comprehend the

universe i n terms o f h u m a n understanding. But, for the same two thousand years, philosophers h a d t i m i d l y retreated from their goal,

caught i n the idea o f the “outside” world, a world beyond our direct experience. For Plato, o u r h u m a n world was b u t a transient world o f

changes and “becoming,” a mere shadow of the “real” world of “being.” A n d for Descartes, all h e c o u l d feel immediately certain about (at least prior t o God’s assurances) were his own ideas. T h e correspondence o f these ideas t o the physical world was a matter o f doubt. Similarly, J o h n Locke saw o u r ideas as mere “representations” o f the

“outside world,” and i t was n o t a difficult trick, beginning from this position, for Bishop Berkeley and David Hume t o show that w e could n e v e r k n o w a n y t h i n g b u t o u r o w n ideas. I n response to this tradition,

Kant makes the decisive step (but n o t the complete step—that is left t o Hegel) i n the fulfillment o f this long-standing human-centered ambition o f philosophy. H e radically reverses the priorities and shifts the b u r d e n o f defense. Consciousness, n o t the w o r l d , becomes o u r fixed

point o f reference. Other philosophers had asked, “How can I know that my ideas correspond t o the way the world really is?” Kant now asks, “ W h a t must the world be l i k e i n o r d e r for m e to know it?” T h e change seems, a t first glance, a mere sleight o f hand, b u t as we pursue

Kant’s answer, we see that i t truly is a revolution o f “Copernican” proportions. H e says, we should no longer ask whether we can know what the world is like; we should now ask what the w o r l d must be like

as we know it. Here is his answer t o Hume's sceptical challenge. The basic principles of metaphysics are n o t indefensible statements o f fact about the world; they are rather descriptions o f our consciousness o f

the world and the necessary s t r u c t u r e s which we impose on our experience. T h e “laws o f nature” are n o t h i n g other t h a n the rules according t o which we constitute o r synthesize our world o u t o f o u r raw

experience. “The understanding is itself the lawgiver o f nature.”!? The idea that we constitute o r synthesize o u r world according

to

rules ( t h r o u g h o u r “productive imagination”) sounds very m u c h as i f we, each o f us, actually creates a w o r l d to h i s o w n fancy. B u t this is n o t

Kant’s intention, a n d h e insists, first o f all, that this activity involves a passive e l e m e n t as w e l l , o u r sensibility, o r i n t u i t i o n s , u p o n w h i c h w e

impose the concepts ( o r categories) o f understanding. These intuitions

also have a necessary form, namely, the form o f space and time. Moreover, i t 1s n o t as I f o u r concepts o r categories are a matter o f 19. CPR, A 126.

76

Setting the Stage

choice for us. T h e bulk o f Kant’s first Critique is dedicated to t h e d e m -

onstration that the s e t o f categories which we use t o understand o u r

world is the only set of categories which any consciousness could use t o experience and understand the world. Kant calls this demonstration a “transcendental argument” or “deduction,” and its purpose is t o show that the categories o f o u r understanding are both necessary

and sufficient for any possible experience. Similarly, our experience of the world “outside” o f u s in space and time is necessary for any possible experience. These arguments are designed specifically as an answer t o Hume, for i f the principles i n question are the only possible principles of knowledge, then that surely constitutes a rational proof of their universal validity. This Copernican Revolution also answers Kant's third concern, to

understand and

to

end the seemingly endless bickering among phi-

losophers. So l o n g as metaphysicians thought that they were suggest-

ing ultimate

structures

o f the world outside of our experience, no

w o n d e r t h e r e was, i n Kant’s terms, “ n o standard w e i g h t t o d i s t i n g u i s h

sound knowledge from shallow talk.”2° B u t if, as Kant argues, meta-

physical principles are i n fact descriptions of the necessary rules or structures o f any understanding o f the world, then the resolution o f

metaphysics is

at

hand. Either a metaphysical principle can be dem-

onstrated, through a transcendental argument o r deduction, to be a necessary p r i n c i p l e o f experience, o r i t cannot. A n d if i t cannot, it may be, as H u m e had argued, “committed to the flames, for i t can

contain nothing but sophistry and illusion” (Enguiry, p. 173). Unless, o f course, i t has some other role t o play i n human life—a practical role—in which case ı t becomes a matter o f reason, not under-

standing.?! I n the last part o f his first Critique, Kant introduces the notion o f dialectic, by which the means the hopeless attempt t o comprehend the infinite, to know the ultimate structures o f the universe (including God) a n d the ultimate nature o f the self o r soul. Kant has distin-

guished between understanding, which applies its concepts only t o the data of experience and thus can know only particular objects and finite sets o f objects, a n d reason, which applies these same concepts

beyond the data of experience t o the universe as a whole, t o the self as a metaphysical entity, and t o God. The question then becomes: Can 2 0 . Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics, trans. L.W. B e c k ( N e w York: Bobbs-Merrill,

1956), p. 4. 2 1 . I n a n o t e i n C P R ( B 3 9 5 n . ) , K a n t comments t h a t “Metaphysics h a s for t h e real object o f i t s i n v e s t i g a t i o n t h r e e i d e a s o n l y ; G o d , f r e e d o m , a n d i m m o r t a l i t y ; . . . Everything e l s e t r e a t e d by t h a t s c i e n c e i s a m e a n s only t o e s t a b l i s h t h o s e i d e a s a n d t h e i r r e a l i t y . ” B u t a l l t h r e e ideas, as K a n t g o e s o n t o s h o w , a r e matters o fp ractical reason, n o t possible o b j e c t s o f k n o w l e d g e o r u n d e r s t a n d i n g .

77

From Kant to Hegel

we know o f such things through reason alone, “pure reason?”— and Kants answer is “no.” I t is worth noting that Hegel acknowledges Kant’ “Transcendental Dialectic” as his greatest contribution to philosophy,

both for its basic distinction between understanding and reason and for its insights into the n a t u r e o f our attempt t o apply our concepts to the infinite. W h a t K a n t discovers is that these concepts, when so

applied, yield contradictory yet valid results, that is, pairs of antinomaes, each of which is supported by a perfectly sound and valid argument.?> Kant argues that such absurd results can only prove t h a t metaphysicians m u s t give up the attempt t o understand the infinite. Hegel will arrive a t a very different conclusion. Praising Kant’s discovery o f the antinomies, he will complain t h a t Kant only located four such pairs, when i n fact there are indefinitely many more. What Kant discovered, according to Hegel, is the dialectic o f reason, w h i c h can, at o n e a n d t h e s a m e time, e n t e r t a i n o p p o s i n g a n d e v e n c o n t r a d i c t o r y

attitudes toward the world. This is

not

the place

to

explain and de-

fend this much-abused Hegelian thesis.” B u t i t is important t o remember that this notion o f “contradiction,” the dialectic, and the In-

famous trad of “thesis-antithesis-synthesis” come straight first Critique.

out

of Kant’

With Kant’s Copernican Revolution, questions about the ultimate

o f the world become questions about the ultimate s t r u c t u r e of our minds. But understanding n a t u r e is but one human enterprise among others; and the concepts o f the understanding only provide us with one kind o f principle. There are also principles based on the structure

concepts o f reason which have their own k i n d o f validity, n o t as

knowledge but i n t e r m s o f practice. This 1s the basis o f Kant’s radical separation of the world o f knowledge and science and the practical world of God and morality and human action. The first world, the “sensible world” o f scientific knowledge and Newtonian mechanics, is viewed from the standpoint o f the understanding, including the categories of substance and universal causality, applied t o the data of experience within the forms o f space and time. The second world, the “intelligible world” o f morality, freedom, a n d good intentions, G o d 22. Kant’s four pairs of antinomies: I . Thesis: the world has a beginning i n space and time. Antithesis: the world does

not

have a beginning i n space and time.

11. Thesis: e v e r y t h i n g consists o f s i m p l e elements. Antithesis: t h e r e a r e n o s i m p l e elements.

ITI. Thesis: there are causes through freedom. Antithesis: there are no causes through freedom, only natural causes. IV. Thesis: there is a necessary being. Antithests: there is no necessary being.

23. See Chapter 4b, pp. 203£f.

78

Setting the Stage

and the immortality o f the soul, 1s viewed from the standpoint o f man as moral agent, willing his good deeds on the basis o f universally rational principles of duty. Within the sensible world of sensory experience and knowledge, the categories o f the understanding and the

forms of space and time reign supreme and unchallenged; within the intelligible world of God and morality, the presumption o f human freedom and responsibility and the inviolability o f religious faith lie beyond the reaches of scientific determinism and demands for concrete evidence. Each o f u s hives i n two worlds, a n d , ın a sense, each

has two selves—a self i n each world, a knowing ( o r “transcendental”)

self which applies the categories o f understanding t o experience, and a willing, rational self which acts i n freedom a n d stands outside the

forms o f time and space before God. I n both worlds, i t is the ideal o f rational autonomy that reigns supreme, but i t is this dualism o f worlds and selves that will drive the Kantian revolution t o ever greater ext r e m e s , much as i t was the contradictions i n the French Enlightenm e n t that drove the French Revolution t o ever more desperate attempts t o consolidate itself. Kant himself attempts such a synthesis i n his t h i r d Critique, b u t h e remains, b y his o w n admission, a dualist.

Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel will be unyielding Copernican revolutionaries, but they are n o t willing t o remain Kantian dualists. I t is this ongoing drive for a “synthesis of theory and practice” t h a t will carry the revolution t o its intellectual heights o f 1806, i n Hegel's Phenomenology. Kant’s schizoid two-standpoint, two-world, two-self view would be trouble enough; but he compounded confusion by falling short i n what was undoubtedly the boldest move o f his philosophy. Just as so

many philosophers before him had stated their anthropocentric intentions b u t then fallen back o n the ominous idea o f a n “outside world,”

a world beyond our experience, so Kant

too

felt obliged, with consid-

erable hesitation at first, to reintroduce the idea o f a world-in-itself,

beyond experience, i n juxtaposition t o the world of our experience and understanding. Later philosophers, notably Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, would attempt t o minimize this “fatal mistake” i n Kant’s philosophizing. There can be n o doubt, however, t h a t this distinction

between the world o f our experience—or the phenomenal world or world as phenomenon—and the world as i t 1s “in-itselt"—the noumenal world o r world as noumenon—was absolutely essential

to

Kant’s o w n

thinking. For i t was this distinction between the world o f our experience and the world-in-itself t h a t provided Kant with the basis for distinguishing his sensible and intelligible worlds. I t is the idea of a world “ I n itself” that provides us with the passive element i n o u r experience,

79

F r o m Kant to Hegel

the intuitions o f sense w h i c h are given to us by the world itself. I t

is the world-in-itself—beyond the categories o f our understanding a n d the necessary form o f time—that explains h o w ı t can be

that

our

selves—that is, our noumenal selves—can be immortal and beyond the clutches o f time. Similarly, i t allows God t o be outside the realm o f Newtonian physics and outside o f space and time, yet reserves for him the essential roles o f divine judge and ultimate moral sanction. Moreover, i t is this distinction which will ultimately allow Kant t o defend a non-Newtonian concept o f the universe, as itself a striving a n d

struggling Being, n o t as a matter o f scientific explanation but nonetheless a matter o f rational belief. These benefits are n o t w i t h o u t their cost, however. T h e addition o f

the world-in-itselt has the effect, as Fichte and others are quick t o demonstrate, o f subverting the whole point o f Kant’s revolution. Moreover, the idea that our moral selves belong t o the world-in-itself and n o t t o the world o f experience has the awkward consequence that our everyday moral actions and good deeds are performed outside o f the physical world i n which they have their effects. This is peculiar indeed, and its only resolution, attempted clumsily by Fichte, then by Hegel, is the elimination o f the world beyond experience and all that goes along with it. Knowledge and practice m u s t be part o f one and

the same “system.” I n the realm o f practice, Kant’s strategy parallels that o f the first Critique. The Critique of Practical Reason begins with the subjective fact o f moral experience, a n d then attempts to show, by use o f transcendental type arguments, that the principles o f o u r moral life are uni-

versally valid and necessary for any rational creature.** This last phrase marks another great revolutionary step i n Kant’s philosophy, for one o f these rational creatures ( w h o is thus subject to the moral law) 1s

God. This is a dramatic shift i n priority from traditional arguments that base morality upon the word o f God. For Kant, God’s existence will be established on the basis of the moral law rather than the moral law detended by appeal t o God’s existence. Morality is the basis o f the whole of practical reason, religion t o o . Kant’s argument is that morality consists of purely formal principles i n the form o f “categorical imperatives,” commands t o a c t which are unqualified and which make no allowances for personal preferences and individual circumstances.?> Thus Kant makes a sharp distinction (once again with H u m e 24. For i n s t a n c e , i n Foundations o f the Metaphysics o f Morals (FMM), t r a n s . L.W. Beck (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953), esp. p. 96ff. 25. M o s t famously, “ A c t only o n t h a t m a x i m through w h i c h y o u c a n a t t h e s a m e time will t h a t i t s h o u l d b e c o m e a u n i v e r s a l l a w , ” F M M , p. 52. A l s o , Critique ofP r a c t i c a l Reason (CPrR), trans. L W . Beck ( N e w York: Bobbs-Mernill, 1956), p . 30.

80

Setting the Stage

i n m i n d ) b e t w e e n duty, a c t i o n o n rational p r i n c i p l e , a n d a l l m o t i v e s o f

personal inclination, prudence, and sentiment—anything other than the p u r e desire t o d o one’s duty. Moral laws, therefore, are categorical

imperatives which abstract from individuals and provide a formal morality for all rational c r e a t u r e s . The unconditioned universality o f moral laws once again allows Kant t o realize the ultimate ideal of his philosophy, rational autonomy; by insisting t h a t morality is a matter o f reason alone h e denies the necessity o f a n individual appealing t o

particular circumstances, or local customs, or contingencies of which he or she may n o t be aware. But the application of such principles i n particular cases therefore remains an open question, and here Fichte and then Hegel raise the objection that Kant has failed t o consider what is m o s t essential t o the moral lite—the particularities o f human moral claims. B u t for K a n t , o u r moral sense, as wholly autonomous

and independent o f external contingencies, is the premise o f practical philosophy, just as self-evident as the fact o f ones own existence i n the first Critique. A n d with this, Fichte i n particular could n o t agree more enthusiastically.?® Having once established his abstract conception of morality, Kant proceeds t o prove t h a t a necessary presupposition or “postulate” of moral accountability is human freedom, and so freedom takes its treasured spot i n the intelligible world (“the world o f Freedom”), parallel t o the Newtonian principle o f universal causality i n the sensible world. Moreover, Kant attempts t o show that this conception o f morality, w i t h its weighty reliance o n duty, also presupposes the postulates o f G o d a n d the immortality o f the soul. D u t y must be rewarded,

and as i t is evident that i t is

too

rarely rewarded i n this life, i t is nec-

essary to believe that i t will be rewarded, and rewarded justly, i n a

future life. A n d this i n t u r n requires a belief i n the survival of the soul after death and the existence of a divine, omniscient, and benign Judge who will arrange for this fairest o f all possible arrangements (which Kant calls, after a long Scholastic tradition, the Summum Bonum).?" I t is a t this point that the conception o f an intelligible world outside o f time is cashed i n

to

defend Kant’s faith i n Christianity.?®

26. For example, “there 1s within me an impulse t o absolute, independent self-activity,” i n Fichte’s Vocation o f M a n , trans. W i l l i a m Smith (Chicago: O p e n Court, 1931), p . 95. 27. K a n t defines t h e “ S u m m u m B o n u m ” as t h e rational ideal i n w h i c h v i r t u e is commensurable with happiness: I n t h e S u m m u m B o n u m w h i c h is practical for us, i.e. o n e which is 1 0 b e m a d e r e a l by o u r will, v i r t u e a n d happiness are t h o u g h t o f as necessarily c o m b i n e d , so that the o n e cannot be as-

by a p r a c t i c a l r e a s o n w i t h o u t t h e o t h e r belonging t o i t (CPR, p. 113). 28. “ T h e d o c t r i n e o f Christianity, e v e n w h e n n o t r e g a r d e d as a r e l i g i o u s doctrine,

sumed

g i v e s a t t h i s p o i n t a c o n c e p t o f t h e S u m m u m B o n u m ( t h e K i n g d o m o f G o d ) which is a l o n e sufficient t o t h e s t r i c t e s t d e m a n d o f p r a c t i c a l r e a s o n ” (CPrR, 127-28),

From Kant to Hegel

81

Needless t o say, there are multitudes o f problems here, but the project itself, the defense o f Christianity as a rational religion whose func-

tion i t 1s t o support morality, is one that will greatly influence the young Hegel. I n fact, i t is this aspect o f Kant’s philosophy (which Kant had just argued separately i n an essay, “Religion within the B o u n d s o f Reason A l o n e ” (1793)) which was o n e o f the most defini-

tive influences i n Hegel's first writings.=* Kant’s t h i r d Critique, t h e Critique o fJudgment, was his a t t e m p t to synthesize the two-worlds view, b u t i t was also a bold attempt, which would have tremendous influence o n more “ r o m a n t i c ” philosophers to fol-

low, t o defend a m o s t imaginative and exciting picture of the “supersensible world,” the world-in-itself, as teleological, as having a purpose (what K a n t calls “finality”) a n d struggling to actualize the new w o r l d

preached so incessantly by the Enlightenment. Kant’s starting point,

very much i n t u n e with the Enlightenment, 1s the sense o f wonder and aesthetic appreciation a t the intelligibility o f n a t u r e , the marvelous simplicity o f its laws a n d the way, a la Leibniz’s “best o f all possible

worlds,” n a t u r e has so much “wisdom, economy, forethought and beneficence.” Kant’s image, however, is very much a Romantic image, and the universe he there describes looks far more like the cosmos of the poets than the nuts-and-bolts mechanism o f Newtonian mechanics. But however invaluable this “regulative” principle o f reason, ins p i r i n g us to seek ever further i n t o the workings o f nature, the ultimate

intelligibility and purposiveness o f the world can never be a o f knowledge. I t is, a t best, a rational hope, perhaps even an

matter

unavoidable expectation. B u t the idea o f a purposive universe, a bel i e f w h i c h Kant also introduces i n t o his ethics ( “ i f n a t u r e intended for us o n l y to b e happy, she w o u l d n o t have endowed us w i t h reason”),

fits into the sensibility o f Goethe and the romantic poets as well as the Enlightenment sense o f an orderly universe. (Goethe often said t h a t i t was only Kant’s third Critique that he liked—or could even read.) T h e idea o f a universe with its o w n internal principles o f developm e n t (“intrinsic finality”) was wholly a t one w i t h Goethe’s o w n

Aristotelean-biological conception o f the cosmos, and the German Idealists following Kant will take this image as the centerpiece o f their entire philosophy, Hegel i n particular. Furthermore, because Kant says t h a t aesthetic judgment is a synthesis o f understanding and reason, a r t takes o n a new philosophical importance for the idealists— much i n t u n e with the new German spirit o f poetry. God Himself as

the ultimate artist becomes a central theme o f the more romantic29. See C h a p t e r 3.

82

Setting the Stage

minded idealists—Schelling i n particular. I t is even Kant, before the Romantic poets, w h o declares the unique role o f the artistic genius as

“beyond all rules,” giving rise t o some o f the m o s t obnoxious features of German Romanticism.>° Compared with the first t w o Critiques, Kant’s Critique ofJudgment has usually been judged a very poor third, with none of the single-minded coherence and argumentation of his theories o f knowledge, morality, and religion. But t o the German Idealists who follow him m o s t immediately, the themes o f the third Critique are as influential as the

other t w o . The “regulative” picture o f a teleological universe, i n particular, together with Goethe’s powerful image of Bildung and the cosmic pretensions o f the Romantic poets, would become the dominant image o f the new century, not Kant’s “criticism,” which belonged to a n

earlier age that could still believe in “enlightenment” pure and simple.?!

German Idealism after Kant The Kantian philosophy needed t o have its spirit distinguished from its letter, and t o have its purely speculative principle lifted o u t o f the remainder that belonged t o , or could be used for, the arguments o f reflection. I n the principle o f the deduction o f the categories Kant’s philosophy is authentic idealism; and i t is this principle that Fichte extracted i n a purer, stricter form and called the spirit o f Kantian philosophy. —Hegel (1801)

From the m o m e n t o f publication o f the first edition o f Kant’s first

Critique, Kantianism ruled academic philosophy. I t also had enormous influences outside of philosophy, i n poetry, literature i n general, both literary and social criticism, psychology, anthropology, physics, and cosmology and-—most important of all for the education of young Hegel—in religion. The Kantian view o f Christianity as a set o f “postulates o f practical reason” dominated the Lutheran theology Hegel learned a t the Tübingen Stift. (We shall talk about this i n the n e x t chapter.) Here, I w a n t t o t r a c e the philosophical development from Kant t o Hegel through a single sequence o f thinkers, from Kant t o Fichte and then t o Schelling, who was one o f Hegel's best friends i n college (that is, the Stift) and the brilliant speculative idealist who was 30. I t w a s t h i s r u l e - b r e a k i n g a r r o g a n c e t h a t p r o m p t e d G o e t h e t o d e c l a r e t h e whole m o v e m e n t “ s i c k l y . ” I n P a r i s , Romanticism b e c a m e a s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d e x p r e s s i o n o f a r r o g a n c e : T h e o p h i l e G a u t i e r b e c a m e k n o w n as t h e b e s t o f t h o s e r o m a n t i c “ B o h e m i a n s ” w h o s e m a i n purpose i n life w a s “ t o e x a s p e r a t e t h e P h i l i s t u n e s ! ”

31.

“‘Enlightenment.

By

w o r l d ” (Phenomenology, 540).

this simple means it

will

clear up the contusion of

this

83

From Kant to Hegel

responsible for Hegel’s first professional opportunities. But first, I think i t is important to u n d e r m i n e the impression, so easy to get from

the Kant-Fichte-Schelling-Hegel sequence, that German Idealism after Kant moved i n a single direction, an impression, needless t o say, that Hegel himself fondly fostered i n his later lectures o n the history o f modern philosophy.** Fichte’s reinterpretation o f K a n t , w h i c h w e shall discuss i n some detail, begins with the rejection of the “thing-in-itself” and a shift o f the whole Kantian enterprise into the concerns o f the second Critique,

that is, taking freedom and rational autonomy as primary, questions

about knowledge and the n a t u r e o f the world as secondary, and Newton’s physics, which was extremely important t o Kant, as n o t import a n t a t all. Fichte wholly rejected the view that we are, first o f all, o b s e r v e r s o f t h e w o r l d ; w e a r e always m o r a l a g e n t s , a n d e v e r y t h i n g

about the world m u s t be “deduced” from that starting point—from our moral sense rather than from the facts o f experience as s u c h . I n d e e d , the most striking feature o f Fichte’s idealism is his uncom-

promising rejection o f all things passive i n experience, the idea that there is a w o r l d outside o f us, the idea that there is a manifold o f

Intuition or

set

o f sensations that we do n o t produce, the idea

that

the

self, i n any sense, is b o u n d by rules a n d structures n o t o f its o w n

choosing.’ Schelling adopts Fichte’s ego-centered interpretation o f Kant, but he adds t o it the insistence that one could n o t simply exorcise Kant's vital concern i n the first Critique, ignore Newton and science and nat u r e and relegate the whole o f Human experience t o a “postulate o f practical reason.” So Schelling takes u p the subject o f n a t u r e and develops a “philosophy o f nature,” the point o f which is to p u t Newton

i n his place (as the “lowest level” o f n a t u r e interpretation) and defend instead an image o f nature as a whole as a hving, developing being, following the same course o f self-reahization as consciousness—in fact, identical w i t h i t , as a parallel aspect o f one all-encompassing “ w o r l d

soul.” This was, o f course, the image o f Kant’s third Critique, interpreted by Schelling (as i t was n o t by Kant) as the m a i n point o f the

entire Kantian enterprise.’ But a t every point i n its development, the idealist

movement

from

K a n t t o Fichte t o Schelling was opposed by a n equally powerful “ r e alist” interpretation o f K a n t a n d at odds as well w i t h a n extravagant

“romantic” interpretation which, although i t frequently borrowed from 32. Lectures, Vol. 3, p p . 409-554.

33. “ . . .

not

idle c o n t e m p l a t i o n o f

thyself, not brooding over sensations, but action,

of M a n , p. 94). 103). 35. For example, i n his “World Soul as a Hypothesis for Physics” i n 1796.

a n d a c t i o n a l o n e , d e t e r m i n e s your w o r t h ” ( V o c a t i o n 34. “ I a m my o w n c r e a t i o n ” (Vocation o f M a n , p.

84

Setting the Stage

Fichte and Schelling, found these philosophers far too “rational” t o share their enthusiasm for sheer feeling and inspiration, devoid o f any attempt to formulate a philosophical system. Indeed, the idea o f a philosophical “system” was itself a major point o f controversy, a n d

the call t o “systematize Kant,” which was the shared aim of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, was first formulated by one o f their arch-rivals, the “rational realist” Reinhold.*® Karl Leonard Reinhold (1758-1823) proved himself t o be one of the m o s t loyal Kant-interpreters. He rejected what he considered t o be the one-sided and ego-maniacal emphasis on “self” t h a t he saw i n the idealist interpretation o f Kant, and he insisted on taking Kant a t his word, t o be providing the necessary conditions o f experience. H e d i d n o t reject the thing-in-itself, although h e insisted that i t could not

be known i n any sense. But he also insisted that the self, which provided the first premise for the idealist interpretation, could not be k n o w n either. H e also joined w i t h K a n t , and against the idealists, i n

recognizing the passivity of intuitions, which he considered the “given” element i n experience and its material content. A similar, commonsensical view was the more psychological interpretation o f Kant by Jakob Friedrich Fries (1773-1843). He called his view a n “anthropological” interpretation and rejected what the idealists took t o be utterly essential t o their program, namely, the possibility o f showing that the a priori or necessary conditions o f experience could i n some sense be demonstrated t o be “absolute.” A t most, one could show that certain principles were to b e found i n every finite m i n d . T h e idea o f a “transcendental deduction,’ therefore, culminat-

ing i n the Absolute and demonstrating the unconditional vahdity of any particular view of the world, would be impossible.?’ The philosopher Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi (1743-1819), on the other hand, viewed Kant’s enterprise as a demonstration of the limits o f reason. Reason a n d understanding c a n n o t grasp the t r u e nature

o f the world, Jacobi argued, using Kant’s own arguments against him. H e accepted Kant’s over-all picture o f the universe i n the t h i r d Cri-

tique, but disagreed t h a t this picture could never be known t o be true. But such knowledge, he argued, could never come through thought 36. Some o f Hegel's first published works were attacks o n Reinhold, including his Differenz-essay o f 1 8 0 1 . S c h e l l i n g w a s reported t o h a v e a t t a c k e d h i m too, i n less profes-

sional terms, a n d his correspondence is filled w i t h references t o Reinhold’s “stupidities” a n d “monkish foxiness.” I n d e e d , t h e p r o p e r scholarly study o f G e r m a n I d e a l i s m m i g h t

well be augmented with a sociopathological study o f this somewhat spectacular battle o f egos, which we shall not e n t e r into here. I shall only introduce, i n perfectly respectable terms, a few o f t h e combatants.

37. Fries is still largely untranslated; a brief introduction

to

his philosophy is A.

Mourelatos, “Fries,” i n t h e Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. P. Edwards, ( N e w York: Free Press, 1966).

85

F r o m Kant to Hegel

but only through simple feeling or belief (“Glaube”). Thus he

too

re-

jects the ambitious program o f Reinhold, Fichte, a n d Schelling, to

“systematize Kant,” for Kant c a n n o t be systematized. Knowledge o f “the Absolute” is n o t a m a t t e r o f reason, n o t a function o f conceptualization, n o t a question o f articulation.>8 A similarly anti-rationalist view of knowledge o f the world-in-itself, or “the Absolute,” was defended for years by Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834), who would later be Hegel's colleague a t the University of Berlin.3 Schleiermacher too held that knowledge of “the Absolute,” i n this case God, was a matter o f p u r e “feeling,” a n d h e

rejected Kants attempts t o “rationalize” religion. (Accordingly, he would become Hegel's antagonist as well.) Opposed t o the rationalists too were the Romantic poets, led by August and Friedrich Schlegel (1767-

1845 and 1772-1829) and their friend Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg, 1772-1801). They too accepted the final teleological vision of Kant’s third Critique but rejected the ideal o f rational a u t o n o m y t h a t permeated the first t w o Critiques. A n d i n the complex and often cacophonous interaction between these Romantics and anti-rationalists and the rational realists, the various idealists and the ever-present authority o f Kant’s own works, a philosophical version o f Hobbes’s “war o f all against all” took over the German universities, as one professor (or aspirant) after another tried his o w n h a n d a t recasting the

Kantian philosophy into the definitive “system.” And it is i n this morass o f ambitions, hostilities, a n d mixed interpretations that the seem-

ingly simple progression, from Kant

to

Fichte

to

Schelling

to

Hegel,

h a s t o b e viewed.#!

Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) Fichte’s philosophy has caused so much o f a stir and has made an epoch t o the e x t e n t that even those who declare themselves against i t a n d strain themselves t o get speculative systems o f their o w n o n

the road, still cling it. —Hegel (1801)

to

its principle, . . . and are incapable o f resisting

Reinhold made the first attempt t o “systematize” Kant’s philosophy, and won Kant’s own approval and consequently the chair i n philoso38. Jacobi i s discussed i n some detail, i f n o t always fairly, i n Hegel's essay, “Faith a n d K n o w l e d g e ” (trans. H . S . H a r r i s a n d Walter C e r f (Albany: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1977).

39. See R. Brandt, The Philosophy of Schleiermacher (New York: Harper, 1941). 40. See, for example, M.H. Abrams, Natural Supernaturalism. 41. I h a v e o m i t t e d m e n t i o n o f o n e o f t h e b e s t - k n o w n p o s t - K a n t i a n s , Arthur

Scho-

p e n h a u e r ( 1 7 8 8 - 1 8 6 0 ) ; his World as Will a n d Idea was n o t p u b l i s h e d until 1819, a n d so he was not yet a contender for the Kantian crown. Indeed, he a n y significant n o t o r i e t y u n t i l t h e l a t t e r halt o f t h e century.

did n o t begin

to achieve

86

phy

Setting the Stage at

the University o f Jena for doing so. Reinhold’s successor, how-

ever, was a new b r a n d o f Kantian, n o t o f a n academic temperament at

all, but a young radical, fired u p by the French Revolution, Rous-

seau, and Romanticism more than the academic intrigues o f the “crit-

ical philosophy.” Johann Fichte shared none of Kant’s enthusiasm for Newton and physics; he was wholly caught u p i n the practical concerns o f the second Critique. For h i m , the Kantian philosophy became a search for a way o f life. Kantian criticism became the search for a

“vocation o f man,” and the cold and critical arguments o f Kant’s t r a n scendental deductions became a moral calling for a newly arising and rebellious German nation.*: I n 1791 Fichte made the long journey t o East Prussia i n order t o visit Kant, and a year later he published a very Kantian book, Critique of All Revelation,*® which so impressed the Great Philosopher and many others (who a t first thought the book itself was by Kant) that he obtained the chair i n philosophy a t the University ofJena, i n 1794. During this period, however, he also joined the Jacobin club; he had a reputation as a Spinoza enthusiast—much impressed by pantheism even i f Spinoza’s determinism was antithetical to his activist temperament—and h e became a popular, even notorious, teacher o f a neoKantian ethic i n which G o d emerged as n o t m u c h more than the h u -

man moral order, taking Kant’s reduction o f religion t o practical reason t o its extreme, i f n o t logical, conclusion. I n 1799 he was fired from the University o n a charge o f atheism, n o doubt because o f his

other radical activities as well. (Hegel, who was just about t o begin his own university teaching career in Jena, m u s t have taken careful n o t e o f the circumstances.)**

The technical purpose o f Fichte’s philosophy was t o “systematize” Kant, as Reinhold h a d insisted, which m e a n t

to

take the confusion o f

categories and principles o f the Critiques, including the uncomfortable split between “ N a t u r e a n d Freedom,” understanding a n d practi-

cal reason, and place them all i n a single logical order, with a n explicit first premise and “deduction” of all further principles. To do this would be t o “elevate the critical philosophy t o Science,” where “science” (Wis42. “ I f my entire knowledge revealed t o me nothing but knowledge, I would be my whole life. . . . C o n s c i o u s n e s s c o n n e c t s w i t h reality i n a c t i o n , c a p a b l e

defrauded of

o f p r o d u c i n g something b e y o n d m y s e l f ” (Vocation of M a n , p p . 93, 96). I n 1800 the moral calling was “ t o unite o u r race i n t o a single body” (p. 120), the ambition o f Hegel's Phenomenology as well. I n 1 8 0 7 - 8 , i n his Addresses [Reden] to the German Nation, the call

was nationalism, and Fichte is rightly identified with its beginning. 43. F i c h t e , Versucheiner Kritik a l l e r Offenbatung (Königsberg, 1792), t r a n s l a t e d as Attempt a t a Critique o f A l l R e v e l a t i o n by G a n e t t G r e e n (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1978). 44. I n t h e Differenz-essay, Hegel a l l u d e s t o c o m m o n s e n s e w h i c h “ d e t e s t s a n d persecutes speculation” (p. 100); see Harris's note, 100n,

87

From Kant to Hegel

senschaft) would not be what we call “science” (Le. a particular empirical method common t o physics, chemistry, biology, and the social sciences), b u t the academic password o f the period that meant, i n effect, the most rigorous, thoughtful, a n d comprehensive treatment o f the

whole o f human experience. Now i n the beginning o f this chapter, we pointed o u t that the purpose o f a philosophical system, i n general, was to p r o v i d e a n all-embracing account o f Reality, or, i n German

Idealism, human consciousness i n general. But Kant had failed t o do this, Fichte and others complained, both because o f the obscurity of the arguments o f the first Critique and because of the intolerable separation of knowledge and freedom, the world of experience and the world-in-itself. T h e t h i r d Critique, however admirable, had n o t suc-

ceeded i n bringing this system together, and so Fichte declared his purpose t o be t o “complete” Kant’s efforts i n a “system,” taking his cue from the words o f

the

Critique of Pure Reason:

. . . the critical way alone is open, that this present century may succ e e d where

all others failed, namely

to

give human r e a s o n c o m p l e t e engaged i t s curiosity, b u t s o

satisfaction about that which has always

far i n vain. ( B , 884) T h e “complete satisfaction” w a s a total s y s t e m o f reality, n o w v i e w e d

through the idealist lenses o f the German philosophers, and the cent u r y was almost a t its end. Thus Fichte announced his ambition t o the world, t o do what Kant had only begun, t o re-present the whole of the Kantian philosophy i n a single logical system rather than t w o o r

three, and rigorously

to

“deduce” all the principles of knowledge and

practice from a single premise. This, h e claimed, was the “ s p i r i t ” o f

Kant’s philosophy even i f i t wasn’t exactly its letter, and i n 1794 he

launched the first edition o f his Wissenschafislehre.*> Kant’s own reception o f the work was less than enthusiastic. I n fact, the Fichtean pretense o f “completing” the critical philosophy became so widely ac-

cepted that, i n 1799, Kant felt compelled

to

disclaim any affiliation

w i t h Fichte i n a conspicuously nasty public notice:

I m u s t remark here that the assumption that I have intended t o publish only a propaedeutic t o transcendental philosophy and n o t the actual system o f this philosophy is incomprehensible t o me. Such an i n t e n t i o n c o u l d never have occurred t o me, since I t o o k the com-

pleteness o f pure philosophy within the CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON t o be the best indication o f the truth o f my work. T h e r e is a n I t a l i a n p r o v e r b : M a y G o d protect us from o u r friends,

and we shall watch o u t for our enemies ourselves. There are friends 45. ( F r a n k t u r t , 1966). T r a n s l a t e d as Science o f Knowledge by P e t e r H e a t h a n d John L a c h s ( N e w Y o r k : A p p l e t o n - C e n t u r y - C r o f t s , 1970). “ I h a v e l o n g a s s e r t e d , a n d I repeat

88

Setting the Stage who mean well by u s but who are doltish i n choosing the means for promoting

o u r ends. B u t t h e r e a r e a l s o t r e a c h e r o u s f r i e n d s , deceit-

ful, bent on o u r destruction while speaking the language o f good will (aliud linqua promptum, aliud pectore inclusum genere, “who think one t h i n g and say another”), a n d one cannot be too cautious about

such men and the snares they have set. Nevertheless the critical philosophy m u s t remain confident o f its irresistible propensity t o satisfy t h e t h e o r e t i c a l as w e l l as t h e m o r a l , p r a c t i c a l p u r p o s e s o f reason, confident t h a t n o c h a n g e o f opinions, n o t o u c h i n g u p o r reconstruction into some other

form, is i n s t o r e for

it;

the s y s t e m o f the Critique

rests o n a fully secured foundation, established forever; i t will be

indispensable t o o for the noblest ends of mankind in all future ages.*®

But i f Fichte’s technical ambition o f “completing” Kant’s work bewilders us—as i t obviously annoyed Kant, then we surely can under-

stand the motives

that

drove

that

technical ambition, i n particular,

Kant’s uncomfortable division o f the world—the self a n d human life,

into t w o mutually exclusive realms. Beneath the technical ambition is a driving concern for morality, and Fichte’s real ambition, however obscure its professional trappings, was t o salvage the primary s t a t u s o f h u m a n morality, and “life itself,” from the imposing mechanical images o f Newtonian science and Kant’s first Critique. He was, above all else, a moralist, a n d even his m o s t technical writings reek o f a k i n d

o f vindictive moralism t h a t emphasizes moral culpability even i n one’s choice o f a metaphysics. The Kant t h a t Fichte m o s t appreciates is n o t

the Kant whose themes he employs from the first Critique, but Kant the moralist o f the second. The real premise of Fichte’s over-all philosophy is nothing so technical as Kant’s formidably named “transcendental u n i t y o f consciousness”; i t is rather that restless sense o f a n infinite striving self, the same sense t h a t was also finding representation i n Goethe’s Faust. (Goethe was a great a d m i r e r o f Fichte a t this time.) * ’

Fichte was far less interested i n knowledge and science than he was i n ethical struggle—a m a t t e r o f personality, perhaps, but also, a matt e r o f the violent times, right a t the height of the French Revolution. This fundamental moral sense of struggle became obvious even i n the technicalities o f his revision o f Kant. H e was indifferent

t o the validity o f Newton's physics. I f physical determinism is incompatible

with freedom, then so m u c h the worse for science. Turning against

Spinoza, Fichte rejects determinism i n all its forms and makes the freedom-loving, aspiring self the centerpiece o f his philosophy, even once m o r e , that m y system is n o t h i n g o t h e r t h a n the Kantian. . . . I have said this n o t t o

hide behind c i t e d as

a g r e a t authority

. . . b u t t o s p e a k t h e t r u t h a n d be

just” (p. 4).

“Wiss.”

46. F r o m A . Zweig, Kants Philosophical Correspondence, 1799. 4 7 . “ I n t h e b e g i n n i n g , w a s t h e A c t , ” p a r o d i e s G o e t h e ( c t . Wiss. p . 4 0 ) .

Hereafter

From Kant to Hegel

89

the Absolute.% T h e whole o f n a t u r e , as w e l l as G o d , t h u s r e d u c e s t o

“postulates o f practical reason,” m e r e supports for the moral self. Nature 1s a moral stage, o n which all its m e n a n d women are moral play-

ers. Fichte’s definitive work, his Wissenschaftslehre, (the only one taken seriously by Hegel), made fully explicit his debt t o Kant, and his ambition “to raise the Kantian philosophy t o a science.” O n a narrow reading, the problem that defines the Wissenschafts-

lehre is misleadingly well-defined: Given (in line with the Kantian philosophy) that “a finite rational being has nothing beyond experie n c e ” ? then what Kant considered the passive element i n human experience—the fact that intuitions are given to us and we cannot

simply choose what we perceive—can be accounted for i n only one or t w o ways. Either one accepts the (odious) Kantian thesis that there are indeed “things i n themselves” determining our intuitions from beyond o u r experience, b y the n a t u r e o f the case u n k n o w n to us, or, one rejects the idea o f things-in-themselves, more i n l i n e with the

Kantian Copernican Revolution, and insists that there is nothing beyond o u r experience, that therefore o u r intuitions too, as well as the forms o f experience, are “posited” (from setzen) by the self as a prod-

o f the “productive imagination.” The first solution Fichte calls dogmatism, the second, idealism, making it quite obvious which he prefers, uct

and which we ought, as moral beings, t o prefer.’ T h e first position raises a n insurmountable problem, by Kant’s o w n standards; i f causality is a category that we apply within o u r experience, then there is n o sense to be given to the idea that o u r experience itself is caused by something outside o f i t . I f objects are the objects o f o u r experience, then there is n o sense to be made o f the idea o f objects “ i n themselves,” beyond o u r experience. A n d i f some o f o u r experiences, namely, sensations ( o r intuitions), seem to be passive and caused i n us by objects outside o f us, then the conclusion m u s t be that these are not

really passive after all, despite initial impressions, but rather part o f our own free activity i n the “positing” o f our moral world." B u t even i f there were n o way for the idealist t o refute the dog48. This, i n fact, was a general m o v e a m o n g the G e r m a n Spinoza-enthusiasts, i n -

cluding Jacobi and Schelling t o o . Fichte: “Every consistent dogmatist [realist] is necessarily a fatalist; . . . he denies the independence o f the s e l f. . . he is also a materialist. H e could b e r e f u t e d only o n t h e b a s i s o f t h e p o s t u l a t i o n o f freedom o f t h e s e l f . . . ” (p. 13). H e g e l c l u m s i l y m a r k s t h e d i s t i n c t i o n i n t h e Preface o f t h e Phenomenology b y (mis-

leadingly) taking Spinoza’s notion o f “Substance” to be purely physical and insisting that Spirit 1s n o t merely (but i t is partly) Substance. ( I have used “self” and “ego” inter-

changeably i n the following discussion. Fichte and Schelling (Kant and Hegel too) often use “Ich” [1].) 49. Wiss, p . 8.

50. Ibid. 9-12. 51. Ibid. esp. 60f. Also Vocation of Man, the whole o f Book I I (“Knowledge”), pp. 36-92.

90

Setting the Stage

matıst (nor the dogmatist the idealist), Fichte makes it extremely clear that a t least one consequence o f dogmatism, the belief i n universal causality and therefore the absence of human freedom (in Spinoza, for example, or i n Kant’s first Critique) is a morally reprehensible position, a n abnegation o f responsibility. I t is here that Fichte makes his

famous pronouncement: what s o r t o f philosophy one chooses depends, therefore, o n what o f man one 1s; for a philosophical system is n o t a dead piece o f furniture t h a t we can reject o r accept as we wish; i t is rather a thing animated by the soul o f the person who holds it.** sort

And leaving no doubt about the superiority o f the idealist position, he adds, A person indolent by n a t u r e o r dulled and distorted by mental servitude, learned luxury, and vanity will never raise himself t o the level o f idealism. . . . A n d o f the dogmatist, we can bewilder a n d harass h i m from a l l sides; b u t we cannot convince h i m , because h e is inca-

pable o f calmly receiving and coolly assessing a theory he absolutely endure.

cannot

Thus the technical question of accounting for the seeming “necessity” o f the contents o f our experience is a strategy, so evident i n Fichte’s

language, o f promoting the moral point o f view, the sense of ourselves as essentially free, striving for moral perfection. His answer t o Kant and his systematization o f Kant’s philosophy then t u r n s o u t t o be, i n effect, a reduction o f the first Critique to the second, a reduction

of n a t u r e

to

a postulate o f practical reason. Nature, Fichte argues, is

posited by us i n order to act o u t o u r moral will. T h e

two

egos o f K a n t

are reduced t o one—the acting ego of the second Critique, and the God who assures the moral order i n Kant becomes i n Fichte nothing more than that moral order itself, t o be realized by the joint efforts o f humanity. Later i n his career, Fichte introduced baldly Christian images into his philosophy, the doctrine of Trinity and so forth, i n order t o re-establish himself as a Christian, 1.e. respectable philosopher, after the Jena firing. But Christian language is almost wholly inconsistent with the r e s t of his philosophy—as Schelling objected— obviously imposed superficially o n top o f what is still largely a n athe1stic, o r i n any case pantheistic, moral view, which substitutes secular

morality for faith i n any religious sense. 52. I b i d . 16. 53. I b i d . 54. “We have spoken o f faith as duty, which is faith i n H i m , H i s Reason, H i s Truth. . . . we believe i n . . . a n eternal l i f e in which o u r f r e e d o m a n d morality may still continue t h e i r d e v e l o p m e n t ” [ ! ] (Vocation o f M a n , p . 157). “ A c c o r d i n g t o Stoic ethics, we a r e n o t to become

like G o d ,

w e a c t u a l l y a r e G o d . T h e Wiss. m a k e s a c a r e f u l d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n

From Kant to Hegel

Fichte’s strategy 1s t o

recast

91

Kant i n systematic form by examining

more critically than his m e n t o r the premise u p o n which the whole theory is built, namely, the Cartesian premise o f one’s own existence,

what Kant calls “the transcendental unity of consciousness” and Fichte “the positing o f the ego.” Neither Kant nor Descartes, Fichte argues, had an adequate conception o f this ego, or consciousness, and so their philosophies failed t o make good their own greatest discovery, namely, the ego as the source o f everything. N o w Descartes had realized that

the ego discovered i n philosophical reflection could n o t be simply a person—that is, a physical being, wearing a turtleneck and blue blazer, a small mole o n the r i g h t cheek; the ego so selt-evidently necessary would have t o be a t h i n k i n g ego, a thinking thing, whose only necessary properties were those r e q u i r e d for thought itself. B u t there was

no doubt

that

Descartes continued

to

think o f the “ I ” o f his Medita-

tions as a personal “ 1 ; a n i n d i v i d u a l “ I , ” distinct from other “ I ” s a n d

from the things o f the physical world. Kant rejected Descartes’s conception o f the “ I ” as a thing and insisted that i t was but a n activity, namely, the activity o f applying the concepts o f the understanding t o intuitions ın order t o constitute objects. But with Kant, another significant shift prepares the way for Fichte’s m o s t extravagant philosophical move—the single most important philosophical move for an understanding o f Hegel’s philosophy t o o . Kant insists that the t r a n scendental ego which applies the categories o f the understanding is not t o be thought o f as a personal ego, that is, a personality which 1s u n i q u e to each individual, b u t rather, a “consciousness i n general,” necessarily common (as h e proved i n his first Critique) t o all h u m a n

— beings. Kant still left i t implicitly evident that the ego was individual that is, that each person “ h a d ” his o r h e r o w n transcendental ego, b u t Kant’s o w n arguments prepared a case for the thesis that even this r e m n a n t o f common sense was not justifiable. O n c e o n e t r i e d to de-

scribe the identity o f the ego that appeared

to

be so self-evident i n

Descartes’s “ I t h i n k , therefore I am,” n o such distinctions between

individuals were possible. Thus Fichte concludes, on the basis o f a detensible chain o f reasoning from Descartes’s and Kant’s own s t a r t ing point, that there is but a single boundless ego, an absolute Ego, which is immanent i n all o f us. The absolute Ego requires particular egos for its manifestation, but i t is n o t limited t o any particular ego or group o f egos. I t is nothing less than the whole o f human consciousness—Iliterally, “consciousness i n general.” a b s o l u t e b e i n g a n d real e x i s t e n c e , a n d e m p l o y s t h e f o r m e r as a b a s i s t o explain t h e l a t t e r . . . . T h e Wiss. 1s n o t atheistic either, as S t o i c i s m m u s t be, if i t i s t h o r o u g h l y w o r k e d

o u t ” (Wiss., 245n.).

92

Setting the Stage

I f we are t o have any sympathy or understanding of German idealism after Kant, i t is “absolutely” essential that we appreciate this grand sense o f “immanence,” o f something acting through us, like Goethe’s “demon,” o r Napoleon's sense o f “destiny.” I t is, o n the one hand, a quasi-mystical sense o f “Oneness” w i t h the world a n d everyone else, b u t i t 1s even more a very active, even Freudian sense o f a power t h a t 1s n o t our own, a drive t h a t infects us b u t is n o t our per-

sonal creation, literally, a “spirit of the times”

that

determines our

moods, o u r ambitions, a n d the direction o f o u r lives. I t is this sense t h a t provides the premise o f Fichte’s philosophy, this sense o f a cosmic

self, of “life i n general” or simply “the Absolute” who speaks and acts through us. Later, we can t r y

to

make some o f this more common-

sensical, for example, by comparing this abstract theory with the quite everyday sense o f being part o f a giant and enthusiastic crowd, a t a

football game, for example, or i n the middle o f a Napoleonic battle. B u t for Fichte, i t is a premise t h a t has the golden philosophical virtue o f its o w n “selt-evidence.” T o reflect o n oneself is to know, “immedia t e l y ” o f one’s o w n existence as a self, a n e g o , a consciousness. ( T h e r e

is n o need for us to distinguish these now.) This simple “intellectual

intuition,” wrought by any philosopher or philosophy student who takes a m o m e n t t o take the trouble, 1s the beginning o f all t r u e knowledge, and everything else is but a consequence t o be “deduced” from it. I t there 1s, a t the basis of all philosophy, this one grand cosmic self, what m u s t i t be like? Kant distinguished t w o selves, the transcendental k n o w i n g self and the noumenal acting self, the “will”; both were

activities, but the first was concerned with knowing, the second doing. B u t i t is the main objective o f Fichtes “systematization” o f Kant t o

reject his distinction between

two

worlds, and t w o selves; there is but

one self, according t o Fichte, a n active, moral striving self, whose pri-

mary concern is moral self-realization. The nature o f the self, he thus insists, is

to

act, a n d its essential goal 1s the realization o f its o w n free-

dom. I n other words, Fichte interprets the self he has derived from Kants first Critique with the essential properties of the self of Kant’ s e c o n d Critigue. O n the o n e h a n d , t h e s e l f is t r a n s c e n d e n t a l , w h o s e

philosophical premise is its own intuition o f itself, but, on the other hand, i t is p r i m a r i l y a moral self, free-in-itself, w h o subsumes even

knowledge, particularly self-knowledge,

to

its moral struggles.

From this extravagant first premise, Fichte proceeds t o “deduce” the necessary features o f the world, “the whole system o f necessary presentations—not only o f a world whose objects are determined by 55. I b i d . 381.

From Kant to Hegel

93

judgment, but also o f ourselves as a free practical being under laws . . . The notion o f “deduction,” remember, is not what we usually think o f by that t e r m , namely, a kind o f logical inference from one proposition t o another. The word comes from Kant’s “transcendental deduction,” which is a demonstration o f conditions o f possibility, or i n Fichte’s words, “it shows t h a t what is first set u p as a fundamental principle and directly demonstrated i n consciousness, 1s impossible unless something else occurs along with it, and that this something else is impossible unless a third something also takes place, and so o n until the conditions of what was first exhibited are completely exhausted . . . 7 % But i f the reader looks a t this sequence o f conditions 7

as a matter o f epistemological necessity, w h i c h 1s what we expect to

find i n Kant’s deduction, the “logic” will seem wholly elusive. The “deduction” is instead like that of the second Critique, when Kant becomes openly teleological a n d derives from the n a t u r e o f morality

those postulates that would make i t reasonable for a rational

creature

to be moral, such as, the assurance o f one’s o w n freedom (which Fichte too

takes as “the first principle o f practical reason”).

T h e argument takes the form, “What does this absolute self need

prove itself morally?” and the steps i n the deduction are the feature of our experience, products of the productive imagination, which make our moral struggles possible. Thus, first of all, the freedom o f the self-in-1tself is necessary, and then a world o f the “not-selt” is necessary, according t o Fichte, i n order for us (that is, the absolute Ego) t o have situations and obstacles against which t o t e s t ourselves. One to

might reflect here o n the fact

that

we often enjoy “making things

difficult for ourselves,” o u t o f restlessness o r i n o r d e r to test o u r abilities. T h e particular things a n d events o f the w o r l d are j u s t such a test, j u s t as, for example, G o d tests J o b i n the B i b l e , a n d , m o r e cur-

rently, Goethe’s Lord tests Faust on a bet with Mephistopheles: except, ultimately, we are testing ourselves. A n d to further the struggle,

the absolute Ego divides itself u p i n a multitude o f individual (“conditioned”) egos, who then set about proving their moral worth against each other. This too is “necessary” given the ultimate moral striving that is the goal o f the self-in-itself. I n fact, i n a curious perversion o f Leibniz’s “best o f all possible worlds” thesis, Fichte argues that this m u s t be the worst o f all possible worlds, for only this will provide the maximum ground for moral self-realization. After all, what would be morality w i t h o u t temptation, o r a sense o f d u t y without individual selfish interests, o r heroism w i t h o u t monsters, o r good w i t h o u t evil, or

striving without obstacles and competition. Thus the absolute Ego 56. I b i d . 25-26.

94

Setting the Stage

“posits” t h e w o r l d a n d i n d i v i d u a l s , u n c o n s c i o u s l y as far as w e i n d i v i d -

uals are concerned of course, as postulates o f practical reason.” Now all o f this m u s t strike the reader as bizarre, t o say the least,

and i f Kants view that we ın some sense “constitute” our world seemed

Fichte’s view that we actually produce our world for no reason other than t o have a moral playground for our collective ego

extreme,

must seem t o be the reductio ad absurdum o f German Idealism. B u t whether o r not all this does indeed follow from Kant, i t is essential to

point o u t that nothing i n Fichte’s metaphysics is intended t o contradict our everyday experience i n any way; my desk, dog, and telephone remain exactly as they were;I still have a Friday appointment at the dentist, a n d the Eiffel Tower, so far as I know, still stands ın

Paris, with no danger o f disappearing i n a m o m e n t o f inattention from the absolute Ego. I n fact, Fichte insists t h a t “systematically” accounting for the whole o f our everyday experience is exactly what his philosophy is about, and exactly what Kant failed t o do, because o f his schizoid two-worlds—two-self view a n d because the world-in-itself, that 1s, the w o r l d , has been left inaccessible to us. What Fichte has given us, then, is rather a very different account o f our everyday experience, though wholly a t odds w i t h “dogmatic” common sense to

be sure. I t is a grand humanistic image i n which we are t o see ourselves as essentially a unified whole—no small inspiration i n those days o f “liberty, equality, fraternity” and mutual destruction. I t is a call t o see ourselves as struggling moral agents—anticipating Fichte’s celebrated Reden (“calls”) for a reawakening o f the German people i n 1807. I t is a rationalization o f the necessity for turmoil i n a seemingly impossible world—not a n insignificant task given the German sense

o f victimization i n the face o f the forces then gathering i n Europe. T h e world is still the same, b u t i t is entirely altered too. O u r per-

ceptions still seem passively received, but this seeming passivity 1s now t o be explained i n t e r m s o f our collective unconscious activity. We still see ourselves as individuals, but we can now see through this superficial individualism to the Absolute unity below. A n d we still see ourselves a n d the w o r l d i n finite terms, b u t beneath i t we sense the infin-

ity o f a boundless self. The conflicts o f the world are nothing less than the conditions we ourselves find necessary for our own self-overcoming. I n his Vocation of Man, Fichte summed i t all up—"“Not t o K N o w but t o 57. I b i d . 72f., 124f., b u t t h r o u g h o u t P a r t I I , esp. 251ff. B u t i n the Wiss., Fichte has

remarkably little t o say about the opposition o f individuals, since he is talking througho u t about the “unconditioned” Ego. The conflict o f individuals becomes fully evident i n his system o f ethics (1798) a n d his Foundation of Natural Laws o f 1796, f r o m which H e g e l b o r r o w e d , a m o n g o t h e r ideas, t h e famous “Master-Slave” conflict o f the Phenomenology.

From Kant to Hegel D O , is the vocation o f M a n . ”

95

I f the details are obscure, the central

message could n o t be more loud and clear. One extremely important twist that Fichte gives Kant, though perhaps without realizing its m o m e n t o u s significance, 1s his variation on Kant’s transcendental arguments concerning the universal necessity o f certain concepts o f the understanding. Kant insisted that the list o f concepts (or “Categories” h e provided i n the first Critique are nec-

essary conditions for any experience whatsoever. But Fichte has argued that these categories are i n fact optional, since we can also approach the world, as i n his own ethical idealism, using only the principles applicable to ourselves as agents, not as knowers. N o w we

have already seen how Fichte uses this conflict between Kant’s first two

Critiques as a way o f promoting his own practical views, but there

is another consequence o f ultimately greater importance. I f we pro-

vide the

structures

or rules

to

our experience through our imagina-

tive understanding, as Kant had argued, then might i t n o t be the case

that we could provide alternative sets of imaginative structures or rules t o experience—for example, the laws of practical reason. Thus there are at least

two sets

o f structures o f reality, which Fichte characterizes

as “dogmatism” and “idealism” respectively. I f this is so, then the business o f providing transcendental arguments becomes much more complex than K a n t could have admitted, a n d the critical philosophy would have to turn.away from “deduction” as such to “dialectic,” that

is, a contrast and comparison o f different conceptual sets, different “forms o f consciousness,” as Hegel will call them. I n his later works, Fichte desperately tried t o make comprehensible the difhcult idealism o f his Wissenschaftslehre, without much success (even Hegel seemed intent o n misunderstanding him). I n 1801, for

example, he published a “Sunclear Report,” a plea t o make the reader understand, but he never succeeded whereas Schelling and Hegel did succeed, i n making the idea o f an absolute Ego comprehensible t o his readers. I n the moral and political sphere, however, where he was far more a t home, Fichte scored considerable successes, regaining his university career and his popular following. H e defended a n orthodox Kantian morality o f d u t y a n d practical reason, w i t h the one cru-

cial variation that, just as he had attacked the distinction between “ N a t u r e a n d Freedom” i n Kant, so too h e rejected the unhealthy split

between desire and duty, and sought

to

combine the personal and the

5 8 . Vocation o f M a n , p . 9 4 . 5 9 . I n Wiss.: “ . . . o u r critics s t a n d firm o n t h e i r inability t o f r a m e t h e c o n c e p t r e quired o f t h e m ( o f s e l f h o o d v e r s u s i n d i v i d u a l i t y ) . . . i t 1s t h e concept o f this concept t h a t t h e y l a c k a n d c a n n o t r i s e t o ” w h i c h reflects, in F i c h t e ’ s c u s t o m a r y a d h o m i n e m vitriol,

“ t h e weakness i n t h e i r whole character” (p. 74).

96

Setting the Stage

impersonal i n the “inner voice” o f conscience.® He developed the thesis, also detended by Kant, that the purpose o f history was the develo p m e n t o f h u m a n freedom t h r o u g h reason, soon

to

be picked u p

famously by Hegel. I n his political writing, the influence o f Rousseau was always obvious, and he stressed the role of the State i n providing moral education t o its citizens as its only real duty. (Once this task is completed, he argued, anticipating Marx and, more immediately, echoing Schiller, the State would “wither away.”) He developed some of the first theories o f German socialism, and i n accordmost

ance w i t h his metaphysics o f the general self, h e defended a strong sense o f authoritarianism a n d h a d virtually n o sympathy for democracy. Finally, i n his most famous performance, h e delivered his “ A d dresses to the German N a t i o n ” i n 1 8 0 7 - 8 , i n which his Increasing sense o f aggressive cultural nationalism combined with his charis-

matic oratory t o generally inspire t h a t sense o f the German cultural mission which had begun with Goethe and Schiller the decade before, anticipating the strong sense o f G e r m a n nationalism that was soon to

pervade the stateless nation and see its first action i n the “Wars o f Liberation” against Napoleon. Toward the end of the Napoleonic era, Fichte was appointed dean of philosophy and then Rector of the newly established University o f Berlin. H e died i n 1814, living long enough t o see the “battle o f nations” and the collapse o f Napoleons empire. His subsequent reputation i n Germany was largely due t o his influence o n politics, which were unsuccessful for another half-century, and German Romanticism, which i n fact he despised. H e considered his own importance far more dependent upon his development o f Kant’s philosophy and his forging a n ideology o u t o f the dried bones of academic philosophy. As Hegel privately wrote t o Schelling in 1795: I am sorry for Fichte; beer glasses and patriotic swords have resisted the force o f his spirit; perhaps he would have accomplished more i f he had left them t o their brutality and had only attempted t o educate a quiet, select little g r o u p . “

Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling (1775-1854) and Das Romantik I t was reserved for Schelling t o introduce the absolute finitude of the infinite into philosophy. —K. L . Reinhold

We argued i n the preceding chapter that romanticism was a powerful influence i n German thinking from the Sturm und Drang poets until 60. “ I n conscience alone is t h e r o o t o f a l l t r u t h ” Vocation of M a n , p . 101. 61. Letter o f 8/30/95, i n K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 306.

From Kant to Hegel

97

the e n d o f the 19th century. Generally conceived, romanticism was the emphasis o n passion, inspiration, change, a n d conflict, a near-

worship o f genius and an almost religious celebration o f the a r t s . I n Germany, i t was also cultural nationalism. This broad characterization includes both Fichte a n d Hegel as well as Goethe a n d Schiller, despite

the fact that all four authors denounced “romanticism” as such, as “empty,” “sickly,” and worse. The confusion is this: A t the t u r n o f the 19th century, Romanticism became narrowly defined as a very specific movement, appropriated by Friedrich Schlegel, his brother and his friends, and it was against this narrow and sometimes embarrassing

conception that Goethe declared romanticism “sickly” and insisted on himself as “classicist.” I t was against the inarticulate emulation o f in-

tuition o f this group that Fichte and later Hegel turned their scorn. I n the broader sense, we should say that all o f these figures were k i n t o romanticism if n o t a definitive part o f it. B u t in the narrow sense,

Romanticism 1s an extremely limited movement whose main consequence i n Germany was t o render a once informative word com-

pletely useless. Schlegel defined “Romanticism” as a search for the “infinite” and “the spirit o f modern poetry.” T h e emphasis was o n genius and cosmic

inspiration, the right of the artist t o “break all the rules, and follow himself,” but i n doing so express the Absolute. Unfortunately, the movement contained few i f any geniuses, and their own theories rendered their cosmic consciousness as obscure pretentiousness. Nevertheless, i n 1800 Germany needed a renewed romanticism, even i f n o t

necessarily Romanticism. The innocent enthusiasm o f the Sturm und Drang movement was n o longer appropriate in this post-revolutionary,

increasingly threatening world. The sentimental world o f Goethe's Werther and the atavistic nobility of Schiller’s Robbers had been replaced b y the demand for a very different kind o f virtue, i n part because o f the enormous political tension now so evident t h r o u g h o u t

Europe, i n p a r t because o f the new philosophies—Kant’s and Fichte’s i n particular.%?

Unfortunately, Romanticism was a world-view without a backbone, a n inarticulate philosophy that needed a structure a n d a spokesman. I t was n o easy search, given that the very nature o f the movement

denied philosophy its established role in the search for Truth and 6 2 . T h e t h e o r e t i c a l statement o f t h i s n e w temperament, i n t h e world o f l e t t e r s a n d

the world at large, was Schiller’s; i n his Naive and Sentimental Poetry he described Goethe so flatteringly (as “naive”) t h a t the younger poets happily applied similar descriptions t o themselves, a n d i n his Letters on Aesthetic Education, h e offered an extremely “romantic” (but n o t i n their limited sense) picture o f humanity reformed through poetry and aesthetic sensibility. T h e t w o v i e w s t o g e t h e r quite n a t u r a l l y e n c o u r a g e d t h e p o e t - a s -

savior sensibility among the younger poets, and Hölderlin, i n particular, had been deeply affected b y it.

98

Setting the Stage

instead substituted intuition and inspiration. The new Romantics t u r n e d at first to Fichte, beneath whose austere a n d obscure Kantian

re-formulations they perceived his dynamic picture o f the world as absolute Ego—which much appealed t o them, the emphasis on the “productive imagination”—perfectly suited t o poetic creativity, and that arrogant moralism that made him their kindred spirit. The poet Novalis, for example, reinterpreted Fichte’s ethical idealism as a “cre-

ative” or “magical” idealism, and, following Fichte’s ethical writings, defined himself as one o f those “beautiful souls” whose personal free spirit was i n perfect t u n e with the Absolute. (Hegel would parody Novalis i n particular i n the Phenomenology.) The Schlegel brothers turned Fichte’s “intuition o f the absolute Self” into a justification for their o w n role as spokesmen for the Absolute, and i n place o f Fichte’s

unswerving moralism, they substituted an amoral philosophy o f art, declaring the individual work o f a r t t o be the Absolute represented i n finite form. Philosophy i n general thus became a matter o f inspired i n t u i t i o n , n o t articulation, where Fichte h a d insisted that i t be a de-

ductive science. Accordingly, Fichte repudiated the m o v e m e n t i n his lectures o n the “characteristics o f the present age” (just as Hegel was to d o a year o r so later) and insulted most o f its main proponents.

Meanwhile, the m o v e m e n t had found other detenders—Friedrich Jacobi the student o f Kant who pursued the negative side of Kant’ arguments (that we could n o t know the world i n itself) t o the conclu-

sion that we could intuit the world i n itself, including God, only through feeling and intuition. And Friedrich Schleiermacher, who also argued that religious belief had only t o do with religious feelings, “convictions o f the h e a r t ” ( H e analyzed these feelings, i n t u r n , as a sense o f

dependence, prompting Hegel t o remark that a dog would make an ideal Christian, o n Schleiermacher’s view.) B u t Schleiermacher was

only a preacher, and Jacobi thought “the whole of science is only a 3 game.” T h e c h a m p i o n o f Romanticism, therefore, t u r n e d o u t to be Schell-

ing, who was also an intimate member o f the Romantic circle i n Jena. ( H e later married the elder Schlegels wife, after a short period o f

scandal.®4) Friedrich Schelling had been a protégé o f Fichte, and his first works were unabashedly Fichtean (with titles like “ O n the ‘ I ’ as the Principle o f Philosophy” o f 1795). H e too saw himself as “com-

pleting” and “systematizing” Kants philosophy, raising i t

to

a “Sch

63. “ O u r sciences are merely games which the human spirit invents t o pass the time” (quoted by H.S. Harris i n his commentary o n Hegel's Differenz-essay, p. 166.). 64. I n fact, the scandal caused such bitterness i n Jena that Schelling left his post a t the university; publication o f the Journal stopped and Schelling’s relationship with Hegel t o o becomes visibly strained a t this time, t h o u g h i t does n o t t u r n i n t o o u t r i g h t antagonism

until a f t e r t h e publication o f t h e Phenomenology i n 1807.

99

From Kant to Hegel

ence,” but he also thought that Fichte had failed t o d o so. Fichte had overemphasized the practical to the exclusion o f the theoretical, accordıng t o Schelling, a n d he had ignored Kant’s o w n attempts at a

synthesis i n his third Critique. The main themes of Schelling’s philosophy, we may say, are the themes o f Kant’s Critique ofJudgment—the

role o f a r t i n synthesizing the natural and the practical, understandi n g and reason, and the teleological view o f the Universe as a whole, the ultimate “finality” o f Nature. Schelling never achieved a single philosophical system, like Fichte a n d Hegel, a n d perhaps this was one o f the reasons he d i d not en-

dure as a major figure i n the history of philosophy, despite the fact that he anticipated almost all o f Hegel's main themes. Historians o f philosophy like single philosophies (or a t m o s t t w o , the “early” and the “later”) b u t Schelling was publishing a different system every year

i n the last decade o f the century, prompting Hegel

t o comment

that

“ h e was educating himself i n public.”% I t was a comment prompted

by jealousy, for Schelling, although five years younger than his college friends, had already published six books and held a chair i n philosop h y w h e n h e was o n l y twenty-three. B u t i t was t r u e that h e changed his m i n d o n major issues almost yearly, a n d however that may attest

a certain liveliness and open-mindedness, i t did betray a certain flirtatiousness with the Absolute that the Germans, looking for some ideological stability, could not long tolerate. The key t o Schelling’s philosophy or philosophies is “the Absolute,” or what he often calls “infinity.” The words strike us as arrogant and extravagant, but what they actually mean is more modest; “absolute” means simply “without qualification,” undivided. “Infinity” means “complete” o r “self-contained.” (In Hegel's Logic, years later, he would introduce his famous distinction between the “genuine infinite,” which is autonomous and self-contained, and the “spurious infinite,” which to

simply goes o n a n d o n a n d o n . I t is i m p o r t a n t to remember t h a t the

complex mathematics o f infinity did n o t begin until the late 19th century with Kantor, so Schelling’s a n d Hegel’s use o f the t e r m is m u c h more primitive than ours.®®)

Knowledge or behavior that is limited, for example, “conditioned” 65. I n 1795, he published his Fichtean “ T h e ‘ I ’ as the Principle o f “Philosophy”; i n 1796 he published his book o n “Natural Law,” and i n 1797 his first “Ideas towards a Philosophy o f Nature.” I n 1798 he published his “The World-Soul as a Hypothesis for Physics” a n d t h e completion o f his first system o f t h e Philosophy o f Nature, then Speculative Physics, and i n 1800 his System o f Transcendental Idealism. The n e x t year he redid his Philosophy of Nature and published a k i n d o f intellectual summary, “ M y System o f Philosophy.” H e was, by this time, only 26 years old! 66. I n d e e d , i t w o u l d n o t b e wholly unfair t o s a y t h a t t h e c o n c e p t w a s n o t a m a t h e matical concept a t a l l , b u t m o r e l i k e t h e a n c i e n t G r e e k c o n c e p t i o n o f “boundless” (apei-

ron).

100

Setting the Stage

by the senses, the forms o f intuition, the categories, or the dictates o f morality, is therefore only “finite,” n o t infinite or absolute. Such knowledge and behavior has its essential place in human life, o f course, b u t i t m u s t be made sense o f i n the l i g h t o f the whole, the absolute o r

infinite unity of human experience. I t is an image which, simply stated, seems to us unobjectionable, even trivial: the world is one, a n d o u r experience o f i t is a unified whole (or what Kant called—with reference to knowledge—“the transcendental unity o f consciousness”). Any

philosophy that renders the world or our experience o f i t into separate (and therefore “finite”) segments is therefore incomplete a n d i n -

adequate, and this is just what we find i n both Kant and Fichte (according t o Schelling and Hegel). The Absolute is also a poetic image—the ultimate romantic metaphor o f cosmic harmony and “being a t one with the universe, which is why some thinkers, Jacobi and the Romantics especially, insisted that this ultimate unity could only be “felt” or “intuited,” n o t demonstrated i n the necessarily limited (“finite”) world o f concepts and language. Thus i t is that Hegel and Schelling tried desperately i n their convoluted language to demonstrate that reason could d o this job, a n d t h e i r starting points were K a n t , o f course, a n d the poets, the great Goethe for one and, closer to home, Schelling’s a n d Hegel's m u -

tual friend, Friedrich Hölderlin. I t was Hölderlin who best captured the romantic insistence o n “the oneness o f everything” a n d the need to “re-establish man’s identity with nature.” A n d i t was K a n t who set

the t e r m s for this identity, via Fichte, t o show that a single absolute or infinite Self was a t work i n both n a t u r e and individual human consciousness. The work o f philosophy, therefore, was t o make this absolute self explicit. For Hegel, this would mean a t u r n to the history

o f philosophy, and human thought i n general, t o show that all o f our various “forms o f consciousness” were striving t o realize this ultimate sense o f absolute identity. For Schelling, however, the romantics still h a d t h e i r influence a n d so, for h i m , t h e d i s c o v e r y o f t h e a b s o l u t e

identity o f Nature and Spirit had t o be found through intuition, through religion, and—what endeared him t o the romantic poets— through a r t . 67. For instance, i n Schelling’s System of Transcendental Idealism and, i n 1809, i n his On Human Freedom, trans. James Gutmann (Chicago; Open Court, 1936), pp. 21f., and i n Hegel's Differenz-essay, i n which this forms the dominant theme o f the entire essay, as m u c h as t h e “difference” between Fichte a n d Schelling a n d the superiority o f the latter. 68. Schelling’s heavy emphasis o n physics and the “philosophy of nature” i n his

early years makes i t s t a n c e , i n t h e System,

t o o easy t o neglect w h e r e he says:

his romantic tendencies i n the 1800s, for in-

The o b j e c t i v e world is only the primitive, a s y e t u n c o n s c i o u s , p o e t r y o f the s p i r i t ; the general o r g a n o n o f p h i l o s o p h y - — a n d t h e k e y s t o n e o f i t s w h o l e arch-—is t h e philosophy o f a r t ” . . . a r t itself [is] t h e ultimate synthesis o f the “objective” a n d t h e “ s u b j e c t i v e ”

From Kant to Hegel

101

I n contemporary terms, perhaps we can grasp this grand vision better negatively; the search for the Absolute and the infinite is Just that sense o f integration and meaningfulness that Albert Camus, for one, declared i n this century to be n o longer believable, with m u c h

noise and despair. His is the final disillusion, that there is no God behind o r o n the scene, that there are n o assurances that things will w o r k o u t right, t h a t j u s t i c e will prevail, t h a t Kant will h a v e h i s Sum-

mum Bonum o r Leibniz his “best o f a l l possible worlds.” This is that sense that Camus captures t h r o u g h the example o f Sisyphus, point-

lessly pushing his rock u p the mountain, only t o have it fall meaninglessly back t o the bottom; he scorns the gods, he is defiant, but Sisyphus knows that there is no meaning; his work will amount t o nothing.%® And Camus himself writes—though the philosophical point is more subtly made by some o f his colleagues, Sartre and Merleau-Ponty— o f human consciousness straining against an “indifferent universe.” All o f this is too familiar. But t o understand Schelling and Hegel and their times, what we have t o appreciate is the fact that they would n o t have found Camus’s imagery familiar; t o the contrary, they would have found i t nonsensical and obscene. Indeed, the one philosopher who did argue such an image o f a “meaningless” universe in their own time, Arthur Schopenhauer, was wholly ignored until much later i n the century, and for just this reason.

The demand for a single synthesis o f the whole o f human experience had been elevated t o a philosophical necessity, o f course, by Kant.

What was taken as a premise by the first Greek philosophers—that reality was one—had become the m o s t persistent problem o f philosophy ever since, from Plato to Descartes to Kant, as they divided u p

reality and experience in a variety o f ways, but then found i t impossible t o bring the parts back together. For Schelling, the search for “the Absolute” or “the infinite” is just this sense o f ultimate identity o f reality a n d consciousness, the identity o f “ N a t u r e a n d Freedom,”

the subject matters o f Kant’s two first Critiques.’® Schelling, however, Hegel, i n his Introduction to the Lectures on Aesthetics i n Berlin, (trans. T . M . K n o x ( O x f o r d :

Oxford University Press, 1979) also stresses the “absolute” and “philosophical”

nature

o f a r t as “the synthesis o f objective and subjective, universal and particular.” H e gives but indirect credit t o Schelling, however, which is rendered even more unjust by an

unexplained

c o m m e n t i n passing t h a t Schelling w o r t h n o t i n g t h a t Hegel t h e r e t o o g i v e s qualified

“distorted” the subject (p. 63). I t is credit t o t h e “Romantic” movement,

and the Schlegels i n particular; . . greedy for novelty, . . . appropriated from the philosophical Idea as much as their completely n o n - p h i l o s o p h i c a l . . . n a t u r e s w e r e capable o f accepting, . . . a n d with g r e a l f r e e d o m o f s p e e c h a n d boldness o f i n n o v a t i o n , even i f with miserable philosophical i n g r e d i e n t s , d i r e c t e d a spiri-

tual polemic against their predecessors. (ibid.)

69. Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus, trans. | . O’Brien (New York: Vintage, 1955). 70. A r o u n d 1803, Schelling began t o describe his philosophy as an Identititphilosophie, a philosophy o f “absolute identity” i n which Nature and Freedom were b u t t w o

102

Setting the Stage

replaces Fichtean “Freedom” with the more religious-toned “Spirit” (Geist), and thus the object o f his philosophy becomes the synthesis o f Nature and Spirit. (In Kant, “the world of freedom” was also the world o f God, faith, and religion.) Fichte, he argued, had accomplished such

a “synthesis” only by reducing the one t o the other, by collapsing all o f Nature into a “postulate o f practical reason,” which he found absurd. I n the technical language so often repeated by Schelling and later Hegel, this meant that Fichte had failed t o achieve a system, and thus, t r u e Science. B u t i n non-technical language, it simply meant, and the reader will probably agree, that Fichte gave ridiculously little attention t o the m o s t obvious fact o f our experience, despite its role i n the leading question o f his Wissenschaftslehre, the fact that the world a n d its objects, i n o t h e r words, “nature,” is given as “objective,” in other words, as outside o f us and independent o f us. Fichte’s “posit-

ing o f the non-ego” still leaves n a t u r e only “for us” and n o t “ i n itself,” not “objective.” B u t how can we understand n a t u r e as “objective” i n this sense and still achieve a n identification o f nature and Spirit. I t is here that Schelling uses Fichte mainly to g o beyond h i m , although

the resemblance remained sufhciently striking so that their audience almost always identified them. ( I t was this identity, desirable i n the absolute Ego but not i n Schelling’s own personal Ego, that made him encourage his unknown friend Hegel t o write his first major piece o f philosophy, i n which the differences between Fichte and Schelling, were emphasized i f n o t exaggerated, t o the evident benefit o f Schelling.”!) Schelling also begins his philosophy with a c o n t r a s t o f t w o kinds o f metaphysics, “dogmatism” and “idealism”; Fichte is his example o f the latter, Spinoza his example o f the former.” Just as Spinoza had failed t o achieve a scientific system, however, because o f his overemphasis on “substance” and the downplaying o f human freedom, Fichte h a d failed to achieve a scientific system because he over-played aspects o f o n e a n d the same Absolute. B u t i t is w o r t h n o t i n g that Fichte a r g u e d such t o the (non-individual) Ego: “ I , the s p i r i t u a l entity, a n d I , t h e b o d i l y frame i n the physical w o r l d , are o n e a n d the same,

an “identity” thesis t o o , a t least with regard merely viewed from

Spinoza

too

two

different sides. . |” (Vocation of Man, pp. 85-86)

had argued such a view (in which mind and body were but different “attri-

butes” o f the O n e Substance that was the whole o f the Universe). I n this century, a

similar view has been argued, for example by Bertrand Russell, under the titles of “neutral monism” and “dual aspect theory”’—the idea t h a t m i n d and body are but t w o “aspects” o f a single entity. 71. I n this Differenz-essay, Hegel accuses Reinhold i n particular o f overlooking the differences between the two, w i t h sophomoric sarcasm: “ I t is marvellous h o w h e [Rein-

hold] manages

to

see nothing but a principle i n philosophy as Schelling has established

i t , n o t h i n g b u t Egoity . . . ” I n retrospect, o f course, we m i g h t sympathize w i t h Rein-

hold, for from a distance o f 180 years Schelling and Fichte d o indeed seem more alike t h a n different, a t least so far as t h e i r “ s y s t e m s ” a r e c o n c e r n e d . W h a t i s v e r y different is

t h e i r view o f l i f e itself, w i t h w h i c h H e g e l , however, seems m u c h less concerned.

72.

System o f Transcendental Idealism,

p. 347.

103

From Kant to Hegel

freedom a n d under-emphasized the objectivity o f nature. B u t Fichte had also shown the way to overcome these one-sided semisystems, i n his initial intuition o f the absolute Ego and his use o f Kant’s “productive imagination” to generate the not-self. A n d i f Fichte’s readers h a d not

understood the universal n a t u r e o f this Ego, Schelling would allow

n o such misunderstanding. H e called i t the “Worldsoul” (Weltseele) as

well as “the Absolute,” and it was discovered, by the philosopher, immediately upon reflection, in an “intellectual intuition” exactly as Fichte had described. Whatever the diversity o f the universe into things and peoples, i n the Absolute one could see the ultimate unity o f i t all. But this was n o t enough, according

to

Schelling, and here is where h e

beyond his Romantic friends: one also needed t o follow Fichte i n “deducing” the n a t u r e o f this diversity, that is, i n showing why the went

world, which was absolutely one, needed to be so diversified a n d d i -

vided. So he began, following Kant and Fichte, by asking “Why must o u r experience be as i t is?” a question he later transformed into the

unfortunate query, “Why

must

there be anything a t all, rather than

simply nothing?” B u t as i n Kant and Fichte, this is a quest for a tran-

scendental “deduction,” a demonstration of sorts

to

show why the world

seems as i t is, why we are as we are, what we can know, what we can believe, what we can hope. B u t like Fichte, Schelling takes the n a t u r e

o f this deduction t o be primarily a teleological deduction (“for what purpose?”), like Kant and Fichte’s practical deductions. For Schelling as well as Fichte insists that the ultimate n a t u r e o f the absolute E g o is its freedom, so long as this is not misconstrued as foreclosing its theoretical functions as knower too, as Fichte h a d done.”

I t 1s here that Kant’s third Critique becomes important t o Schelling. I t is i n the Critique o fJudgment that K a n t r e t u r n s to nature, n o t as the

phenomenal world o f the understanding and the causal laws o f Newton’s physics, but as the “supersensible” universe as a whole, beyond the bounds o f o u r concepts, that is, as infinity, the Absolute. I t is here that K a n t argues, as h e h a d n o t i n the first Critique, that the world must b e rationally b e l i e v e d t o b e purposive, t o b e o r d e r e d , t o b e h a r monious, e v e n i f w e c o u l d n e v e r k n o w t h i s . Schelling’s m o v e ,

then, i s

to take this “regulative idea,” as K a n t called i t , and claim i t as a cen-

terpiece o f knowledge, n o t the kind of knowledge that comes from the understanding, b u t , even m o r e important, the kind that comes from

reason. (Hegel will distinguish these as “reflective” vs. “speculative” philosophy.) This may seem a small and largely terminological move—

Kant said this idea could be justified by reason but n o t known t o rea73. “ T h e beginning and e n d o f all philosophy is—Freedom.” (1795)—Schelling, Werke, ed. K . F . A . Schelling (Stuttgart, 1860), vol. 1, p . 177.

104

Setting the Stage

son itself—but it is the key epistemological move from Kant t o Hegel,

clumsily anticipated by Fichte (who gave too little attention t o the concept o f knowledge as such), completed by Schelling, a n d picked u p b y Hegel. T h e immediate logical consequence, o f course, was that we c o u l d know, after all, the world as i t ıs “in-itself” not the world “out-

side” o f our experience (they all agreed with Kant on that), but the ultimate unity o f the world a t the base o f our experience, which Kant called “the transcendental unity o f consciousness” and Fichte and Schelling ( Jacobi too) “our intuition o f the Absolute.” Our intuition o f the absolute Self, argued Schelling in particular, was not just selfreflection; i t was a n insight into the u n i t y o f ourselves with nature too. Schelling’s premise (Hegel's too) was t h a t we c o u l d u n d e r s t a n d

ourselves only as well as we understood

nature.

Fichte had almost

seen this, b u t h e misconstrued the identity by, i n effect, denying the

independence o f n a t u r e . But nature, according t o Schelling, is nothing other than “slumbering Spirit”; i t is “the unconscious selfproduction o f the Absolute, observed or contemplated by reason.” 7 4 One can, for specific purposes, consider the one independently o f the other (Hegel: “subjective Subject-Object” vs. “objective Subject-Object”). B u t this is always a n abstraction, i n the sense o f a n artificial separation

o f an integral whole, and i t is that immediate philosophical intuition, that 1s so m u c h the anchor o f Romantic poetry as well as Schelling’s

philosophy, which will never let us forget that essential fact. Because Fichte had placed so m u c h emphasis o n the “freedom”

side o f the Absolute, Schelling dedicated most o f his efforts t o developing the “nature” side. H e initiates what he called “the philosophy o f nature,” o r what today we would call “the philosophy o f science.”

Today this would be concerned mainly with methods, while Schelling was concerned almost wholly with the teleology o f science, o r what we might call “creative evolution,” the purpose of the laws of nature, n o t just as logically necessary conditions for one another but as t e m poral stages i n cosmic development. Schelling’s “deductions” then took the form o f an ordering o f the various forms o f science, just as Dar-

win, a half-century later, would order the various species o f living But Schelling would n o t have abided the causal view o f “natural selection” advocated by Darwin, for he firmly believed i n a purposive order implanted within n a t u r e , a design, as Kant had argued,

nature.

74. Echoing Kant, Schelling even says, “ i n o u r philosophizing about n a t u r e , we produce nature.” Cf. Hegel: “ I t is o n a c c o u n t o f such charlatanism that the Philosophy o f Nature, especially Schelling’s, has become discredited.” (Philosophy of Nature, t r a n s . A.V. Miller ( O x f o r d : 1970), p . 1. A s is often the case, i t Is n o t clear t o what extent Hegel Schelling o n e o f t h e “ c h a r l a t a n s ” o r o n e o f t h e i r v i c t i m s .

considers

From Kant to Hegel

105

and ultimately, the Aristotelean telos o f cosmic self-revelation.” For Schelling, as for some contemporary relativity theorists, the “ e n d ” o f

the world is its own recognition o f itself;’® ultimately, i t is nothing other than its own view o f itself. But this does n o t mean, for Schelling especially, that n a t u r e is n o t “objective,” exists only i n our individual minds, o r is i n any sense n o t “real.” B u t i t is o u r (collective) partici-

pation i n the life o f the universe that makes i t real, the categories o f reason that make i t rational. Kant argued that the o r d e r o f n a t u r e gave us a particular pleasure

that he called “aesthetic,” a certain delight i n design and meaningfulness which every scientist and bird-and-flower lover knows so well.”?

Art i n general, Kant argued, was the synthesis o f “Nature”—let us say the marble a sculptor uses i n his work, and “Freedom” —the i m aginative work the artist uses to shape the stone. Art combined the

understanding—knowing how the laws o f everyday physics apply t o the carving o f marble, for example—and reason which provided the unique insights and inspiration t o make this a work o f a r t , a personal expression, instead o f a standardized piece o f factory statuary. Schell-

ing and the Romantics take this view of Kant’, and in particular Kant’s celebration o f the “genius” that 1s necessary t o achieve this uniqueness, and argue that the work o f a r t is nothing less than the Absolute

realized i n a finite example. Schelling goes much further; he identihes the Absolute itself with just such an a c t of creation, namely selfcreation, since as Absolute there can be nothing other than itself to c r e a t e it. The Absolute creating itself, God creating himself, is the ultimate image o f Schelling’s philosophy, the progression o f the Universe as a whole through various stages culminating i n its own rec-

ognition o f itself as the Universe, that is, by Schelling and his Romantic friends. I t is a n extravagantly edifying view o f the cosmos, “ o u r life is its art.”’® B u t , apart from such a n image, there was n o way actually t o describe this unified self-creation; one could only, i f suth-

ciently sensitive, “see” it, in accordance with the new idealist-Romantic 75. Hegel flirts w i t h the theory o f e v o l u t i o n i n his Philosophy of Nature ( 1 249), b u t

he

too thoroughly rejects “natural s e l e c t i o n . ”

the wholesale contingency which would mark the theory o f

76. For example, John Wheeler, who uses this Hegelian metaphor explicitly i n his exegesis o f Einsteinian space-time. See, for a p o p u l a r account, Gary Z u k o v , The Dancing Wu-Li Masters (New York: Morrow, 1979), a n d m y b r i e f discussion i n Chapter 4 b (pp.

186-187). 7 7 . K a n s taste i n a r t was n o t o r i o u s l y abysmal; i n t h e age o f M o z a r t a n d H a y d n h e

preferred military band music. 78. Ct. Aristotle, however, i n his Physics: “ i f purpose is present i n art, i t m u s t also be present

in

nature.”

106

Setting the Stage

philosophy. T h u s the e n d product o f Schelling’s philosophy was t o

silence the philosopher, much as Wittgenstein was t o do a hundred years later: “Whereof one c a n n o t speak, one should remain silent.” But Schelling did n o t remain silent, and Hegel, offended by the sug-

gestion that there was nothing more for him

to

say, turned bitterly on

this aspect o f Schelling’s philosophy i n the Phenomenology. B u t the bulk

of Schelling’s views, we may anticipate, would be imported wholesale throughout Hegel’s first real book. We might say that the skeleton of Hegel's system was not m u c h more than the bones o f Schelling’s various systems, connected together and given flesh and life by Hegel's

unique synthetic genius.” Since this is a book about Hegel, who has received considerable recognition, i t may be fitting t o give a passing moment's credit t o Schelling, for whose unrecognized significance a t e a r or t w o m u s t be shed. H e was a self-declared genius, a n d possibly h e was one. H e was

the

most

sensitive o f spirits, appropriate t o his role as romantik sage.

H e was a solid philosopher o f breath-taking quickness a n d range, di-

gesting every idea i n sight and making i t ready for Hegel's easy assimlation. H e was a n articulate spokesman and a n elegant lecturer, u n -

like Hegel. (Hegel’s students described his lecturing style as “exhausted, morose . . . his constant clearing o f his throat a n d coughing inter-

rupting any flow o f speech.”) But Schelling never could get his precocious systems i n t o a final order, and he was crushed by the rapid ascent

o f his much slower roommate t o the pinnacle of philosophical

fame. “ I can say o f Hegel and his followers that they are eating m y

bread,” he complained years later. But then again, he also accused Fichte o f “plagiarism” when it became evident that his teacher, whom h e h a d imitated, agreed with h i m , a n d i t is probably t r u e that Schell-

ing could never have done what Hegel did do: forge a singularly powerful system that could define the consciousness o f an age. As Hegel's

student, Heinrich Heine defended his teacher after meeting Schelling i n Munich: H e was pushed ignominiously from the throne o f thought; Hegel, his major-domo, took the c r o w n from his head a n d shaved his hair, and the dispatched Schelling now lives like a miserable m o n k i n M u n i c h . . . I n M u n i c h , I h e a r d H e r r Schelling, w h e n I m e t h i m accidentally, speak o f Hegel who had “taken his ideas”; and “ i t is m y

79. “The main point i n Schelling’s philosophy is

that

it

centers

around

that

deep

speculative c o n t e n t , w h i c h as c o n t e n t is t h e c o n t e n t w i t h w h i c h t h e whole h i s t o r y o f

philosophy has had t o d o . . . . His defect is that the Idea i n general, and its distinction into the natural and the ideal world, . . . are not shown forth and developed in themselves t h r o u g h t h e C o n c e p t ( B e g r i f f ) . . . . T h e p r e s e n t s t a n d p o i n t o f philosophy i s t h a t the I d e a i s k n o w n i n i t s n e c e s s i t y . ” (Lectures 241-45). W h e n Hegel says “ t h e present

standpoint o f philosophy,” h e always means himself.

From Kant to Hegel

107

i d e a s t h a t h e h a s t a k e n ” a n d a g a i n “ m y i d e a s ” w a s t h e constant r e -

fraın o f the poor m a n . . . Nothing could be more ridiculous than the c l a i m t h a t o n e o w n s i d e a s . H e g e l , t o b e s u r e , u s e d v e r y m a n y

Schellingian ideas in his philosophy; b u t H e r r Schelling after all would n e v e r h a v e b e e n a b l e t o m a k e a n y t h i n g o f t h e s e i d e a s . H e always merely p h i l o s o p h i z e d b u t w o u l d n e v e r h a v e b e e n a b l e t o offer a phi-

losophy.®?

Schelling got his revenge. After Hegel's death, he was invited back Berlin t o combat the “leftist” clamoring of the young Hegelians, including the young Karl Marx, then a student a t the university. His to

anti-Hegelian lectures inspired a t least one o f h i s students, Sgren

Kierkegaard, t o pursue further the attack on Hegel from the side o f religious orthodoxy, but the same lectures evidently inspired a t least two other students, Friedrich Engels a n d Michael Bakunin, to attack

the Hegelian philosophy, and Schelling posite direction.

too,

from precisely the op-

“The Difference Between Fichte’s

and Schelling’s System of Philosophy” If

t h e formal

task of

philosophy

is taken to be the suspension of

dichotomy, Reason may try to solve it posites a n d exalting

by nullifying o n e o f t h e o p infinite. This i n effect

the other into something

1s what happened i n Fichte’s system. . . ."T h e principle o f identity is t h e a b s o l u t e p r i n c i p l e o f S c h e l l i n g ’ s s y s t e m as a whole . . . F o r a b s o l u t e identity

to be the

principle

o f a n e n t i r e s y s t e m I t 1s n e c e s s a r y

t h a t both s u b j e c t a n d object b e p o s i t e d as Subject-Object. I n F i c h t e ’ s s y s t e m identity constitutes i t s e l f

only

as subjective Subject-Obiject.

[It]

n e e d s a n objective Subject-Object t o complete i t . —Differenz-essay

(1801)

Hegel's first acknowledged publication was the essay entitled “The Difference Between Fichte’s and Schelling’s System o f Philosophy” (Differenz des Fichte-schen und Schelling’schen Systems der Philosophie)®! He wrote i t i n the late spring, early summer o f 1801, a n d i t was published

i n the fall o f that year i n the journal Hegel was now co-editing with Schelling, The Critical Journal of Philosophy. The essay was prompted

by, and was superficially a response t o , a n article by Reinhold, who by now had become an ardent critic o f the new idealism o f Fichte and 80. Religion a n d Philosophy i n G e r m a n y a n d T h e R o m a n t i c Kaufmann, Hegel, p. 362. 81. T h e Differenz-essay. S e e footnote 1, t h i s Chapter.

School, b o t h translated

in

108

Setting the Stage

Schelling. Thus the two-fold purpose of Hegel’s article was t o defend the idealist m o v e m e n t against Reinhold and t o distinguish the philosophies o f Fichte and Schelling, which, according t o Hegel, Reinhold had conflated and confused. I n fact, the largest part of the essay is a critique o f Fichte’s philosophy and a demonstration that Schelling’s system was not only different b u t very m u c h an improvement o n Fichte.®*

I t m u s t be said, without thereby dismissing Hegel’s discussion, that the article was n o t entirely unbiased. H e was n o t only Schelling’ coll e g e f r i e n d , co-editor, a n d s o m e t i m e roommate; h e was h i m s e l f al-

most wholly known via Schelling, and distinguishing Schelling from Fichte was the first step, one can see in retrospect, t o his beginning t o

distinguish himself as well. Indeed, it has been argued convincingly that Hegel had hardly even read Fichte, but relied almost wholly on Schelling’s discussions o f his philosophy? a n d i n any case he was nei-

ther fair nor sympathetic t o Fichte.?* The criticisms themselves were familiar enough; Schelling had made t h e m already. T h e m a i n complaint was that Fichte h a d promised a system b u t h a d not fulfilled that promise. T h e conclusion o f Fichte’s

philosophy is a perpetual struggle o f ego and world, an “absolute opposition” rather than an absolute identity. Thus Schelling had criticized Fichte for his neglect o f the philosophy of n a t u r e and attempted t o provide a unified system. Indeed, i t cannot be stressed too

much that this ideal o f unity was n o t only the criterion Schelling and Hegel used t o determine whether a philosophy was “systematic” o r not; i t was the very condition o f h u m a n reason as such, the purpose

o f every philosophy, whether knowingly or n o t . I n the Differenz-essay, Hegel writes, “the sole interest o f reason is t o suspend . . . antitheses.”® The name Schelling had given t o this ultimate philosophical unity was “Identitdtphilosophie”; the name Hegel gives to the same

ideal is “speculative philosophy”—Iliterally, t o “see” the whole. (Philosophies which were n o t concerned with the whole, n o t speculative, o r which failed to transcend the finite (limited), they called “reflec82. J.H. Stirling describes Hegel's service

to

Schelling as “the honorarium o r hush

money paid by the Unknown t o the Known for the privilege of standing on the latter's shoulders” (Secret of Hegel (London, 1965), vol. 1, p. 24; also quoted by H.B. Acton i n I n t r o d u c t i o n to Hegel's Natural L a w , trans. T . M . K n o x , (Philadelphia: Univ. o f Pennsylvania Press, 1975)).

83. Theodore Haering, Hegel (Leipzig & Berlin, 1929), p. 610ff. 84. Helmut Girundt’s study, Differenz . . . (Bonn: 1965), p. 69. Girundt argues t h a t n o t only was Hegel unfair t o Fichte i n the 1801 essays, b u t when Fichte corrected his Wiss. i n 1804 (in p a r t i n response t o such criticism) Hegel ignored the corrections and c o n t i n u e d t o publish, for t h e r e s t o f his career, objections t o Fichte that applied, i f a t

all, only

to

the edition o f 1794.

85. Differenz-essay, p . 90.

F r o m Kant to Hegel

109

tive.”) Where Fichte had failed and Schelling succeeded, according t o H e g e l i n 1 8 0 1 , was i n a c t u a l l y w o r k i n g o u t a “system” i n w h i c h this ideal unity was completed. ® O f the Differenz-essay, Hegel insisted that it was “external” treatment o f the t w o philosophers, an examination from the outside i n which they were weighed a n d compared, b u t w i t h o u t any attempt to get “inside” their systems and see where they lead. This is what Hegel

would do some five years later, i n the Phenomenology, when he would add his o w n system to the history o f G e r m a n Idealism as a synthesis

and improvement upon both o f them.%’

86. I n 1805, however, H e g e l was less generous t o Schelling; i n his lectures, h e i n sisted that Schelling d i d n o t yet have a system a t all, b u t was still i n process o f t r y i n g t o p u t o n e together. ( N o t incidently, Schelling was n o l o n g e r i n Jena to d e f e n d himself.)

I n his later Lectures i n Berlin, Hegel evolved an even more convenient and less sympa-

thetic interpretation o f Schelling as an “objective idealism,” which conveniently complemented Fichte’s “subjective idealism,” allowing Hegel t o claim his o w n importance as “absolute idealist.” 87. “From the Kantian System and its highest completion,” Hegel wrote t o Schelling back i n 1795, “ I expect a r e v o l u t i o n i n G e r m a n y ” ( A p r i l 16, 1795, from Bern). I n K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 303.

Chapter Three

Younger Hegel The great form o f the world spirit that has come t o cognizance of itself in the philosophies o f Kant, Fichte and Jacobi is the principle o f the North, a n d from the religious point o f view, o f Protestantism. This principle i s subjectivity for

which b e a u t y

and truth present themselves

i n feelings a n d persuasions, i n love a n d i n t e l l e c t . Religion builds i t s temples a n d altars i n t h e heart o f t h e i n d i v i d u a l . —‘Faith a n d Knowl-

edge” (1802)

H e g e l d i d not write n o r evidently even t h i n k about philosophy as a

professional until he was i n his thirties. The abstract defender o f the Absolute was once a student w h o disdained “dead concepts,” “ m e r e

ideas.” Despite the time he spent with Schelling, he thought his friend’ thinking “too theoretical,” and though he studied i n the Tübingen seminary (the Stift) for five years, he despised theology. He preferred the concrete questions o f history and his ancient studies o f Periclean Athens a n d the world o f the O l d and the New Testament. H e was a “competent” college student, as one m i g h t say i n a n honest b u t u n flattering letter o f recommendation, b u t he was also a prankster a n d a rebel, a n d like most o f his classmates h e was a n enthusiastic follower o f the on-going revolution ın France. L i k e most o f his classmates too,

he used his detailed knowledge o f the classics t o draw an obvious c o n t r a s t between the sun-bright harmonies o f ancient Greece and the pseudo-enlightenment pedantry o f the Tübingen seminary. The more pagan elements o f o u r o w n universities still refer to themselves as

“Greeks,” but unlike them, Hegel and his friends took this identity

very seriously. By the time he graduated from the Gymnasium, Hegel had read extensively i n ancient Greek history, literature, and philosophy. T h i s ancient A t h e n i a n ideal, a n d its contrast w i t h contempo-

rary Christian Germany, would be the focus o f Hegel's early studies a n d writings, d u r i n g his years i n Tiibingen (1788-93), t h r o u g h his years i n Switzerland (1793-96), a n d i n F r a n k f u r t with his friend

110

Younger Hegel

111

Hölderlin (1796-1800). Throughout his career, this image o f the ancient polis would remain an ideal against which all claims t o happiness and human reason m u s t prove themselves.! Hegel's early writings are completely lacking i n the heady questions about the n a t u r e o f knowledge, the unity o f the universe, and the labyrinthian complexities of human consciousness. Insofar as he shows the influence o f philosophers, i t is Plato and Aristotle (as moralists, not metaphysicians), and Jean Jacques Rousseau (Emile, n o t the Social Contract) w h o are his models. H e h a d read both K a n t and Fichte, b u t

their influence on Hegel was almost entirely limited t o their writings o n religion; the revolutionary effects o f their over-all philosophies seemed n o t yet to affect h i m . “ I n general, we should say that Hegel

was tremendously influenced by the Enlightenment i n its least philosophical aspects: Lessing’s emphasis on religious tolerance and the general attack o n superstition a n d prejudice; Rousseau’ s t r e s s o n the

importance of education and the general notion of the “perfectibility o f humanity”—and “man’s natural goodness.” Hegel also read or a t least knew o f the new political economists from England, particularly the two Adams (Ferguson and Smith), who were having a n enormous

effect i n Germany a t the time, despite the fact that capitalism and the industrial revolution had yet t o have any effect there a t all.* Hegel was particularly influenced by Schiller’s use o f these readings, i n his contrast between the “ f r a g m e n t e d ” m e n o f the m o d e r n world with the “ h a r m o n i o u s ” a n d “ w h o l e ” m a n o f “nature,” which fit i n so well with Hegel's o w n growing sense o f what later would be called “alienI . See, for example, Raymond Plant, Hegel (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1973); but also James Schmidt, who much modifies this claim i n his “Recent Hegel Literature,” Telos no. 46, Winter 1980-81, esp. pp. 130-135. 2. For such claims I have for the m o s t part depended u p o n H.S. Harris's monumental study o f the younger Hegel, Hegel's Development. 1 suspect, Professor Harris w o u l d dispute m u c h o f t h e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n I have d r a w n from his researches, b u t what

seems t o emerge from his study and Hegel's own pre-1800 writings is an almost remarkable indifference o n Hegel's p a r t to some o f the grand ideas t h a t were encircling h i m . I n January 1795 Schelling writes Hegel: “ w h o can entomb himself i n the dust o f antiquity, w h e n h i s o w n u m e is i n m o t i o n every instant, sweeping h i m a l o n g w i t h i t ? ”

Harris tells his Erziehungsroman as Hegel's discovery of philosophy i n 1796, i n Berne, just before Hegel joined Hölderlin i n Frankfurt. For Hegel's changing attitudes toward philosophy, see esp. Harris, pp. xviii-xix, 33ff, 68 (“not much more interested i n ‘Kant and metaphysics’ than he was i n his lectures and classes”). O n Hegel's first reactions t o Kant, see pp. 1044. 3. A good but b r i e f reading o f Hegel and Adam Smith and Adam Ferguson, and

the British political economists i n general, is Raymond Plant’s Hegel; a more extensive but dubious interpretation o f the young Hegel i n the light o f political economy and the m o r e materialist concerns o f the world is G e o r g Lukacs, The Young Hegel, trans. Rodney

Livingstone (Cambridge: M I T Press, 1975). For a more balanced a c c o u n t o f Hegel and the political economists see James Schmidt, “Recent Hegel L i t e r a t u r e , ” p . 130f. Whatever is m a d e o f Hegel's r e a d i n g however, the fact that h e r e a d these works a t all s h o u l d lend a m p l e support t o t h e w o r l d l y s i d e o f

his interests.

112

Setting the Stage

ation”— not b e i n g at peace w i t h oneself, o r society, o r “nature.”* A n d

he was influenced too—though less than 1s often suggested—by the anti-Enlightenment figure Herder, who emphasized the importance o f history and the specificity o f particular cultures.’ For the scholar interested i n Hegel's development, no single question seems t o m e more pressing, and more dithcult t o answer, than

the relatively sudden and certainly late transformation of Hegel's thinking from these mostly practical and cultural Enlightenment humanist concerns, culminating i n his shared nostalgia for the “natural harmony” of the early Greeks, t o the ponderous, abstract, and obscure philosophizing for which he is so well known today. Why did this m o s t unscholarly and philosophically pedestrian mind make the t u r n t o the m o s t abstract questions of “systematic” philosophy? Why should the Phenomenology begin with the questions of knowledge and reality, with which Hegel had never shown the slightest interest until i n his thirties? Why should philosophy and “the Concept” have so come to obsess a thinker whose early prejudices were entirely prag-

matic and c o n c r e t e , wholly against “dead thinking” and “mere understanding,” who seemed solely dedicated t o the business o f living? These are n o t o u r questions h e r e . ’ I t is enough for us that Hegel

did undergo this transformation, for whatever personal, profess i o n a l , a n d i n t e l l e c t u a l r e a s o n s , a n d t h a t h e d i d b e g i n t h e Phenome-

nology with an introduction and a t least three chapters on straight epistemology, and that he did become obsessed with “the Concept” a n d “ t h e Absolute” ( t h r o u g h the auspices o f Kant, Fichte, a n d Schell-

ing). What we need t o ask i n this Chapter is only what themes and problems these later concerns were b r o u g h t i n to answer; i n o t h e r

words, what were the motivating images of Hegel's thinking? We have briefly reviewed “the spirit of his times”; we have cursorily reviewed his most immediate philosophical influences. I n this Chapter, for what 4. I n Hölderlin; “These are h a r d sayings and yet I say them because they are the truth. I can t h i n k o f n o people as t o r n apart as the Germans . . . there are n o humans. I s i t n o t like a field o f battle where hands and arms and other limbs lie scattered i n pieces while the blood o f life drains away i n t o the soil?” Hyperion, trans. W. Trask (New York: Ungar, 1965).

5. Charles Taylor i n his Hegel, takes Herder

to

be one pole o f influence for the

whole o f Hegel's philosophy; the o t h e r pole, according t o Taylor, is K a n t (See his Ch. I , “ T h e Aims o f a N e w Epoch”). F o r a more extensive discussion o f Herder’s complex relation t o t h e Enlightenmeu.t, see 1. Berlin, Vico and Herder ( N e w York, 1976).

6. T h e definitive work o n this, I believe, is Harris. T h o u g h I am interested mainly i n Hegel as a “living” philosopher ( i n 1985 he will be 215) i t is important t o take his biographical peculiarities as well as his times i n t o a c c o u n t , and we shall d o so periodically i n the pages t o follow. Cf. G.R.G. Mure: “ T h e biography o f a philosopher gains

importance only so far as he fails t o express himself fully i n his writings, and then it serves t o explain his failure rather than his philosophy” (The Philosophy of Hegel (London: 1945), p. xvii).

Younger Hegel

113

it’s worth, I should like t o come t o some understanding of the questions that Hegel asked before he became a philosopher, before he yielded t o the temptations o f “system” and “science” to e n t e r the profession of professors. Hegel, like most great philosophers, was ultimately concerned with

that vague set o f questions clumsily summarized by the phrase “the meaning o f life.” L i v i n g i n a world i n which the established assurances o f religion had been seriously undermined and a new and virtually

“absolute” priority had been given t o human existence, the question— What is that existence worth?-had lost its old and easy answers. I n a

world overrun by Napoleon and torn apart by revolution, i n which all authority had been called into question, the rationality—or should we even say “sanıty”—of the m o d e r n age was seriously i n question, a n d n o t a few o f Hegel’s contemporaries were willing to call i t “in-

sane,” though some by way of criticism, others by way of praise. Long before Hegel began t o write his Phenomenology, his thinking was dominated by a single image, derived most immediately from Rousseau and the Enlightenment, dressed i n the idealized “harmonies” o f the ancient Greeks and nurtured by German Protestantism and poetry. I t was the image o f humanity as a whole, unified after centuries o f division a n d warfare.” I n French Enlightenment terms, i t was the i m -

age o f “perfectibility,” cultivated and realized through a long and painful education. I t was a n absolute humanism, r u l e d by h u m a n reason, open to h u m a n freedom, and making possible h u m a n happiness. I n German poetic terms, i t was the theological image o f Bildung,

a three-thousand-year period o f growth suddenly culminating i n a rebirth o f sorts, a dramatic transformation to a n entirely new stage o f

development, a “redemption o f the human spirit”—in the religious i d i o m o f t h e times.

I n the Phenomenology Hegel announces this “new world.” B u t more than t e n years before the Phenomenology, while still a student i n Tübingen, Hegel was already asking the same questions, “ H o w could this new world come about?” “ W h a t is the purpose o f h u m a n existence?”

“Who are we?” A n d inevitably, given such questions and the

context

i n which they were asked, Hegel's attention was turned t o the nature

of religion.

ard

7. “ I t

is

t h e v o c a t i o n o f o u r r a c e t o unite

o f M a n , p . 120).

itself i n t o

a

single body” (Fichte,

Vocation

Setting the Stage

114

The Vocatıon of aNon-Scholar T h e y o u t h f u l g e n i u s o f a people—senses i t s e l f a n d rejoices i n i t s s t r e n g t h , falls r a v e n o u s l y u p o n a n y t h i n g n e w a n d i s m o s t v i t a l l y c o n c e r n e d w i t h i t , b u t t u r n s a g a i n a n d leaves i t t o seize o n s o m e t h i n g

else.®

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel was born on August 27, 1770, the same year as Beethoven, his spiritual contemporary, and a year after N a p o l e o n , h i s world h i s t o r i c a l h e r o . I t w a s t h e y e a r o f Kant’s d i s s e r -

tation i n Königsberg, i n which the first signs of the “Copernican” Revolution appeared, a n d i t was the same year that Goethe was pouring his o w n youthful heart into The Sorrows of Young Werther. Hegel was the son o f a m i n o r bureaucrat i n Stuttgart, then a small town i n the

duchy o f Württemberg, infectiously near the French border and just east o f the romantic Black Forest. His biography, like all biographies i n the cosmic perspective o f universal history, is eclipsed by his work? His mother died when he was eleven. He had extremely close ties with his sister. We do n o t know whether he enjoyed macaroni and cheese as m u c h as Beethoven d i d , though we can, given the t e n o r o f the times, make educated guesses about his sex life (minimal) a n d

drinking preferences (Rhine wine—cheap). The psycho-sexual historian might well play with the frequent masturbatory imagery o f the Phenomenology (“the Absolute disporting with itself,” “ i n and for itself”) and we might much more respectably follow H . S. Harris's fine a c c o u n t o f Hegel's youthful reading, t e r m papers, and letters.1® But i n o u r at least m i n i m a l fidelity to Hegel’s o w n methods i t is essential to

forgo the pleasures o f scholarly voyeurism and restrict ourselves

to

ideas in their context. There is a n important sense, therefore, in which

the individual philosopher Hegel—his family life, sexual exploits, student interests, and professional accomplishments are “accidental,” incidental, unimportant, negligible. ! ! To thus “explain” Hegel's universal humanism, however, is thereby 8. From the Tubingen essay o f 1793, translated by H.S. Harris i n his Hegel's Development, p p . 481-507.

9. A concise biography (with pictures) is Franz Wiedmann's Hegel: An Illustrated Biography. t r a n s . by J. Neugroscel (New York: Pegasus, 1968). T h e standard sources are T h e o d o r e H a e r i n g , Hegel: Sein Wollen und sein Werk, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1929, 1938); R u d o l f H a y m , Hegel und seine Zeit ( B e r l i n , 1857); a n d , by o n e o f his students, K a r l Rosenkranz, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegels Leben ( B e r l i n , 1844).

10. Harris's book covers mainly Hegel's intellectual development from his Gymnasium years i n S t u t t g a r t until his first professional position, i n Jena, i n 1801. 11. L e s t 1 b e m i s u n d e r s t o o d (again), I a m n o t denying e i t h e r t h e i n t e r e s t o r t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f biography i n r e l a t i o n s h i p t o a n a u t h o r ’ s i d e a s ; I a m s a y i n g that, as a philosopher, a n a u t h o r m u s t l e t h i s i d e a s s t a n d o n t h e i r o w n , a n d t h e m o t i v a t i o n b e h i n d them is t o be brought i n mainly t o make sense o f a t e x t or explain i t when the author

Younger Hegel

115

t o anticipate the e x t e n t t o which he is not the “absolute” spokesman

for his times. I n fact, historically, his and Goethe’s rejection of Germ a n nationalism shows them to be spokesmen for only a very small a n d unsuccessful segment o f the G e r m a n sympathies o f 1800. Let us Just say, then, that H e g e l succeeded t o grow, more o r less intact, to

adolescence. We probably ought

to

mention the fact that Württem-

berg was a Protestant territory dominated by Catholics (ct. Ulster today), so that Hegel grew u p i n a s t a t e o f religious tension (the young Marx comes to m i n d here too) a n d he had a pronounced prejudice against Catholicism. ( A s a teenager h e referred to priests as “those fat

luxuriating m o s t profane men.”)!? The strong republican political sentiments of Wiirttemberg ought also be mentioned, since the proximity t o the French and the distance from Berlin played no small role i n Hegel's political allegiances—for example, the fact that he was, throughout the Napoleonic period, an enthusiastic defender o f the emperor, a conscientious objector t o German nationalism and the “Wars o f Liberation.” H e was visibly joyed a t the defeat o f Prussia and the frustration o f G e r m a n nationalism. L i k e Goethe, he remained a t most a cultural nationalist, using the G e r m a n language a n d the new ideas

of German Idealism t o further the enlightenment of the human “Spirit” !$ as a whole. Hegel entered the Stuttgart gymnasium in 1777. H . S. Harris gives us an account o f Hegel’s studies and performance there, including some detailed accounts of his high-school essays on Greek and Rom a n religion, his r e a d i n g o f Lessing, a n d his early attitudes to the

Sturm und Drang movement.!* For o u r purposes, we need only say

that Hegel did well i n school but n o t brilliantly; he read voraciously, particularly i n the classics but also i n history, physics, and literature. T h e temper o f his education was thoroughly defined by the Enlightenment, though n o t the critical Enlightenment o f Kant nor the radi-

cal Enlightenment o f Rousseau and Voltaire but the Jewish-German Aufklirung o f Lessing and Mendelssohn and the popular philosophy o f Christian Garve.!®> The German writers stressed practical wisdom a n d education (Bildung), religious tolerance and the compatibility o f

religions in a way that particularly appealed t o the young Hegel. Their himself has failed

to

make his meaning clear. Unfortunately, this will often be the case

i n o u r discussion o f t h e Phenomenology. C f . Mure’s comment, n.6.

12. Harris, p. 16. See also pp. 21, 26, 43. 13. See, for example, Hans Kohn, The Mind of Germany (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1960), esp. chs. 1 a n d 2 ; a n d Geoffrey B a r r a c l o u g h , The

Origins of Modern Ger-

many (New York: Putnam, 1963). 14. Harris, pp. 1-47. 15. 1bid., esp. 17f., w h i c h includes a selection from Mendelssohn’s “What I s Enlightenment?” o f 1784, copied b y Hegel i n t o his o w n notebooks. T h e emphasis o n “Bildung” a n d t h e “ V o c a t i o n o f M a n ” (Bestimmung des Menschen) prefigures m u c h

that

is to come

Setting the Stage

116

emphasis on what Hegel called “subjectivity” found a congenial home in his o w n disdain o f “book-learning” a n d “dead thinking,” a n d even

in high school he worshipped the “naive” simplicity of idealized Greeks i n contrast t o the cold and clever catechisms o f his own religion.!®

A t the age of seventeen, Hegel entered the theological seminary (the Stift) a t Tubingen.” At no time did he consider entering the ministry; with his friends Schelling and Hölderlin he attended the Stift simply because the state then sponsored his education. ( I n fact, i n his early essays, Hegel explicitly attacks this shift i n responsibility from state t o church i n the all-important m a t t e r o f education, which ought t o be the main i f not the sole function o f government.) H e was some-

what without direction, compared with his friends, for example, w h o

seemed t o have found their talents early. (Schelling, who was five years younger, was already making a name for himself in philosophy by the

time he was seventeen.) Hegel briefly considered a legal career, following the footsteps o f his father, but never seems t o have followed through with this idea. Like most college students, his life and ambitions were little affected o r influenced b y m o s t o f the courses h e stud-

ied. His dominant influence was the French Revolution and the local radicalism it inspired among his peers. They devoured the French newspapers. They read and discussed Voltaire and Rousseau. They traded their own half-baked and quarter-serious revolutionary fantasies. And, o f course, they drank, partied, played, and complained about the predictable poverty o f their sensual lives. They hated their theology, which they called “the old sourdough,” but they read, studied, and steeped themselves i n that s t e w o f Enlightenment Lutheranism, Sturm und Drang romanticism, classical idealism, and adolescent

fantasy that defined the spirit o f a German generation.!8

T h e theology that was force-fed to H e g e l a n d his friends was itself

a confused blend o f orthodox Protestantism and the new Enlightenm e n t rationalism. I t is important for us t o remember that Kant, who to us is one o f the “classics” i n the history o f philosophy, was then the hottest intellectual fashion, a n d the series o f books which we n o w dust

and catalog was then just appearing, often serialized in journals before proper publication. With this i n mind, Hegel’s early indifference i n the literature and philosophy of the final decade of the c e n t u r y . See also James Schmidt, “Recent Hegel Literature,” pp. 126-27. 16. Harris, p . 140, o n t h e Buchstabenmensch o f the Enlightenment, t h e v a i n sense o f

superiority o f the “man o f letters.” 17. A short personal portrait is i n Wiedmann, ch. 2. A detailed intellectual portrait is Harris, ch. 2.

18. Wiedmann, p. 18ff.; Harris, p. 58ff.; Rosenkranz, p. 25ff. B u t see Schmidt, p. 127f.

Younger Hegel to

117

Kant is particularly striking.'* He evidently had read Kant’ first

Critique for class as early as 1790, b u t seems not to have been pro-

foundly affected by it. Kants religion book would n o t appear until after Hegel's graduation, though its main arguments had been serialized ın journals while Hegel was i n school. The primary basis of the new rational theology was Kant’s second Critique (of Practical Reason of 1788), but it was so distorted and trivialized by pedants that Hegel and Schelling often lampooned the petty Kantians for their translation o f every argument into “a postulate o f practical reason.” Neither o f t h e m saw, at least n o t yet, the more radical elements i n Kant’s philosophy, a n d so their view o f Kant’s significance was distorted—an

important point in understanding their later reaction both t o his work and t o the Enlightenment i n general.?® Fichte’s Critique of All Revelation would n o t appear until 1793 either, but Fichte’s name was already known i n radical circles, and i t is worth noting that when his Critique did appear both Hegel and Schelling considered i t t o have reactionary tendencies, even while i t was generally considered a radical thesis.?! Their o w n radicalism was ill-defined, however, and b y the time Hegel

and his friends became intellectually sophisticated enough t o define it, they had largely outgrown it. O r rather, the world o f the early French Revolution had passed and turned t o Terror. A n d by the time the three friends had graduated, the upheavals in France had already begun t o anticipate a twenty-year international war which would leave nothing in Europe ever the same again.??

Freedom, Feeling, and Folk-Religion What arrangements are requisite i n order that the doctrines and the force o f religion should enter into the web o f human feelings, become associated with human impulses t o action and prove living and active i n them . . .? —Hegel (1793)? 19. Harris, pp. 68, 79, 107. 20. Cf. Hegel's enthusiastic c o m m e n t

to

Schelling, i n 1795: “From the Kantian sys-

and its highest completion I expect a revolution i n Germany . . . ” (from Berne, April 16th, translated i n Kaufmann, p . 303). B u t see Schmidt, p. 139: “placed i n context [Schelling’s “esoteric” philosophy], ‘ I expect a revolution i n Germany’ loses a good tem

deal o f its fire.” 21. Harris, p. 108 and pp. 187-89. 22. Alexandre Kojeve, A n Introduction to the Reading of Hegel (New York: Basic Books, 1969); and Jean Hyppolite, “ T h e Significance of the French Revolution i n Hegel’s Phenomenology,” i n Studies o n M a r x a n dHegel, trans. J . O'Neill ( N e w Y o r k : Basic B o o k s , 1 9 6 9 )

pp- 35-69. 23. T u b i n g e n essay, i n Harris.

Setting the Stage

118

Even i f they rejected theology, the young intellectuals o f Tübingen retained their view that religion itself was i n some sense “natural” and “necessary.” They believed that the French Revolution had erred precisely in its rejection o f religion and its unhealthy separation of state and church. They despised Robespierre but they would agree with his Rousseauan belief that the s t a t e requires a spiritual base, a moral sense t o guarantee virtue t o freedom.?* Their 1deal, accordingly, was

the ancient “folk” religion o f the Greeks and the spiritual-political unity o f the Greek polis.?®> The Greeks needed no “sourdough” theology t o rationalize their religion; i t was wholly justified by its role i n the communal life. The Greeks had no need o f an “intellectual apprehension o f God,” the corruption o f religion that made Christian theology possible. I n that m o s t “natural” o f worlds, morality, religion, community, and politics were one, a single communal feeling, free of the shallow hypocrisy and fragmentation o f this modern world. But the modern age was infused with the spirit o f Christianity, and Germany was defined by the Reformation. Was Christianity itself responsible tor the corruption o f human n a t u r e , then?—or was there something beneath the theological “sourdough” which would allow Christianity too t o function as a “folk” religion, unifying society rather than breaking i t apart? While still in Tubingen, Hegel w r o t e what 1s usually considered t o be his first major attempt t o assess the essential n a t u r e o f the Christian religion. This was i n the summer o f 1793, soon after Fichte had visited Tübingen and just as the first installments o f Kant's Religion were being published. But the dominant influences of the essay, though never mentioned, are Holderlin, with whom Hegel had so often discussed these issues, a n d Rousseau, whose vision o f h u m a n nature

defines n o t only Hegel’s student idealism but his later philosophy as well. N a t u r e has buried i n every m a n a seed o f the finer feeling that s p r i n g s from morality, i t h a s p l a c e d i n h i m a sense f o r w h a t is moral, for e n d s t h a t g o b e y o n d t h e r a n g e o f m e r e sense; t o see that t h i s s e e d o f beauty i s n o t c h o k e d , t h a t a r e a l receptivity for moral ideas a n d feel-

ings actually grows o u t o f i t , this 1s the task o f education [Bildung]— r e l i g i o n is n o t the first t h i n g that can p u t d o w n roots i n the mind, i t must

have a cultivated plot there before i t can flourish.26

24. See Hyppolite, p. 58; Harris, p. 114n. 25. T h e m a i n theme o f Harriss study; see also R a y m o n d Plant, Hegel esp. chs. 1 a n d 2. F o r a n alternative reading, see Stanley Rosen, G.W.F. Hegel: A n Introduction to His Science o f Wisdom ( N e w H a v e n : Yale Univ. Press, 1974), w h o sees H e g e l very m u c h

through the eyes o f the Greek metaphysicians but hardly worship o f their form o f life (p. 3). 26. I n Harris, p . 485.

at

all i n

terms

o f his youthful

Younger Hegel

119

Hegel’s definitive quest, in other words, is t o seek o u t the kind o f society—culture, religion, philosophy—within which these “natural” human virtues can be developed. This Rousseauan ideal o f inborn potential, struggling t o manifest itself through a hundred inadequate cultural and conceptual manifestations, will also be the key t o the Phenomenology. I n this first essay, i t is a simple Rousseauan contrast,

the fertile soil o f ancient Athens and the corrupt theological dogmatism o f the Protestantism of the Stift. The Tubingen essay was never completed or fit for publication, but the first sense the reader o f the Phenomenology will get on looking through it—and the other early writings—is clarity and straightforwardness. There is little sign of philosophical talent here, in fact, there 1s some conceptual confusion and inconsistency; but the obscurity o f Hegel's later philosophical professionalism is n o t t o be found there. His concerns are simply stated, and his questions tend t o be historical

and cultural rather than conceptual. The answers, accordingly, tend t o be factual rather than “speculative,” which means that the general direction o f Hegel’s later writings can here be ascertained with a minimum o f interpretation. That direction is this: within the framework o f the Enlightenment a n d its emphasis o n reason a n d the rational society, h o w can we moderns come to approach the happy sense o f

cultural unity which the ancients enjoyed “naively”? The need for philosophy, Hegel will argue t e n years later, is precisely this loss of unity, “when the might o f union vanishes from the life o f men” (Differenz-essay). But now, before he has discovered philosophy, the question remains an appeal t o history: whence Christianity, which has replaced the pagan harmonies o f the Greeks t o define our fragmented lives??” The premise o f the first essay—and almost all of Hegels subsequent writings—is that religion is n o t the highest human endeavor but is rather a single aspect o f h u m a n life, whose purpose is to serve h u m a n happiness a n d virtue. A successful religion appeals n o t just t o the intellect—which Hegel sees as the inhuman corruption that has

degraded the Christian religion—but also t o “the heart,” from which fancy, feeling, and sensibility m u s t n o t go away empty-handed.?® (4) Such a religion Hegel calls “subjective,” and 1t is Greek folk religion, with its emphasis on shared feelings, rituals, and ceremonies, that is its best example. The antithesis o f such a religion, “objective” religion, Is theology that Hegel had learned i n the Saft: 27. T h e obvious appeal here is t o Lessing and his Education ofMankind and Schiller a n d h i s Letters o n the Aesthetic E d u c a t i o n o f M a n k i n d ; t h e c o r e o f t h e argument, and t h e core o f Hegel's philosophy, is this modern sense o f “fragmentation” versus the ancient i d e a l o f “harmony.” 28. I n Harris, p . 499.

Setting the Stage

120

A s s o o n as there i s a d i v i d i n g w a l l b e t w e e n life a n d doctrine—or

even j u s t a s e v e r a n c e a n d l o n g d i s t a n c e b e t w e e n t h e t w o o f

them—

t h e r e arises t h e s u s p i c i o n t h a t t h e f o r m o f r e l i g i o n is defective—

either i t is too much occupied with idle word-games, o r it demands a level o f piety from men that is hypocritical because it is too high— i t I s i n conflict w i t h t h e i r n a t u r a l n e e d s , w i t h t h e i m p u l s e s o f a wello r d e r e d sensibility . . .

2°

Hegel does n o t thereby reject the 1deal o f “rational religion,” and he makes i t understood that “universal reason” is the basis o f every subjective religion. What he does reject 1s that cold and clever claptrap which talks religion but, in its emphasis on c o r r e c t doctrines and nitpicking arguments, its delight i n logical proofs and scholastic demonstrations, feels nothing.?? I t is irony that it is just this c o n t r a s t , and even the same terminology, that will be used against Hegel by Kierkegaard, a half-century later, and, suspiciously, i t is this “subjectivism” t h a t Hegel a t t a c k s i n t h e Pretace t o t h e Phenomenology?! B u t H e g e l

clearly insists (and i t 1s for us an open question whether he ever gives up this attitude) that a meaningful religion m u s t be subjective, m u s t appeal first o f all t o human feelings and practices, and whatever doctrines i t contains m u s t be wholly subservient t o that end. The purpose o f religion is t o make u s better human beings.?? That Kantian theme resounds throughout Hegel's essays, and in 1799, when Hegel t u r n s against Kant, i t is partly on the basis o f this Kantian principle that he does so. A n d , like Kierkegaard years later, the emphasis o n feeling

remains t o o , so much so that his first attack on Kant, i n an essay called “ T h e Spirit o f Christianity,” is a n a t t e m p t to give the e m o t i o n o f love

the exalted place that Kant gives t o practical reason and morality.? But unlike Kierkegaard and Kant t o o , there is a social dimension t o Hegel’s view o f religion. Religion serves life through its ceremonies a n d practices; its rituals, however silly o r meaningless to the cold E n lightenment eye o f a n outsider, are the very “ h e a r t ” o f a society,

pumping life and the sense o f community through its members. This is what makes a religion a “folk” religion, n o t feeling but community. 29. 1bid. 504-5. 30. Ibid. 483. 31. Kierkegaard, Concluding Unscientific Postscript, t r a n s . W. Lowrie (Princeton:

Univ. P r e s s , 1 9 4 1 ) : “ T h e w a y o f o b j e c t i v e reflection m a k e s t h e s u b j e c t accidental, and thereby transforms existence into something indifferent (p. 173). I n the

Princeton

Phenomenology, 1 6 - 9 .

32. I n a n essay called “ T h e Positivity o f the Christian Religion,” i n 1795 Hegel writes, “ T h e aim a n d essence o f a l l t r u e r e l i g i o n , and o f o u r religion i n c l u d e d , is h u m a n mo-

rality” (Hegel's Early Theological Writings, t r a n s . T.M. Knox (Philadelphia: Univ. o f Pennsylvania Press, 1971), p . 6 8 (Early Theo. Mss.; Positivity-essay).

33. “ T h e Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate” is i n Knox, Early Theo. Mss., pp. 182— 3 0 1 , w i t h a fragment o n “ L o v e , ” p p . 302-8.

Younger Hegel

121

The problem with objective religion and theology is n o t so much that i t 1s tedious a n d effete so m u c h as the fact that i t is socially empty. I t serves only a n elite a n d isolated bourgeois o r ecclesiastical community

and n o t the culture a t large. I t tends t o deaden social spirit instead o f providing its life blood and t o do just the opposite o f what religion ought t o do: t o fortify communal feelings rather than distinguish individual knowledge and cleverness. Eventually, Hegel’s most important single difference with Kant (also with Kierkegaard) will be this emphasis on the primacy o f community rather than individual autonomy. I t is culture t h a t provides shared feelings, the springs o f o u r actions, n o t practical reason, duty, o r mere

psychology. I t is good upbringing that makes a person moral—or immoral—not the dutiful dictates o f rationality alone, and here Hegel shows his i m p o r t a n t similarities w i t h Greek ethics, i n particular, the

ethics o f Aristotle.?® The individual has “meaning” only insofar as he or she is a member o f society; religion has a meaning only insofar as i t 1s this feeling o f shared unity. Individual faith—the key t o both Kant and Kierkegaard—is o f little importance. Culture is what is ımportant, and the basis of all religion for Hegel is the cult—the religious community. I t is urgent that we immediately say that Hegel distinguishes two kinds o f cults ( i n 1795, n o t 1793), one whose common

bond is the feeling o f unity itself, another whose bond is shared paranoia and mutual defensiveness. I t is the latter kind o f cult t o which o u r attention has often been d r a w n as a n object o f loathing o r fear,

i n which “brainwashing” and “kidnapping” charges so often appear;

b u t then, assuming this ıs a distinction worth making, one can see that

Christianity t o o , i n fact every religion,

at

least a t the beginning, was

once a cult. A n d to be a religion worthy o f the name, according to

Hegel, ı t m u s t remain a cult as well. (Large societies, he will later argue, stretch these intimate bonds t o the breaking point; thus the Roman empire, for example, degenerated into alienated individualism just because i t lost the sense o f unity i t had once enjoyed as a

republic.)?® I t is i m p o r t a n t t o notice that, i f “subjective” religion is shared feeling, then “subjective” does n o t mean what we (and Kant and Kierke34. A t one point i n the Tübingen essay, Hegel summarizes the three considerations o f a “folk religion”—reason, emotion, and community (Harris, p . 499): With respect t o objective doctrine W i t h r e s p e c t t o ceremonies. I . Its doctrines m u s t be grounded i n universal

reason. 1I. Fancy, heart, and sensibility m u s i not thereby go empty away. ITI. I t must be so constituted that all the needs o f life—the public affairs of the State are tied

See

ch. 9 “Hegel's Ethics.” 35. 36. See the Positivity-essay o f 1795, particularly p. 151ff.

122

Setting the Stage

gaard) often mean b y that term, something “merely personal.” I n fact,

Just the opposite is the case, since Hegel explicitly claıms that what ıs “subjective” is precisely what is universal, that is, true t o our “natural” sentiments—our human nature—and therefore common t o all people. I t is in this sense that religion is “natural” and “necessary” t o human life, and i t is essential that we appreciate the degree t o which Christianity does not have a special place in this concept o f religion. I n fact,

i t has less o f a place than pagan cults, i n which the role o f community is made primary. I t is also important once again t o appreciate the influence o f Rousseau and the sentimentality o f the Enlightenment, n o t just the stress o n feelings b u t the emphasis o n basic, “natural,”

and therefore universal feelings. Accordingly, Hegel argues that there is but one “true” religion, based on this sense o f community, but that “objective” religions can be “ o f any stripe.” I n other words, i t is objectivity that is localized, a reversal of the usual senses o f these t e r m s that m u s t be kept i n m i n d when we see them so often repeated i n the Phenomenology.’

Kant was enormously influenced by Rousseau, and Hegel was influenced by both o f them. I t is the Kantian emphasis on morality and practical reason that forms the standard by which Hegel measures

religions, but i t is the Rousseauan emphasis on sentiment that 1s ultimately more important for h i m . Since we have already emphasized

the unflinching Enlightenment basis o f Hegel's thinking a t this time, i t is equally important for us t o appreciate his ambivalence toward certain features o f Enlightenment and certain consequent leanings toward Romanticism. Rousseau, after all, became the patron philosopher o f the Romantics, even though h e was clearly a member o f the

Enlightenment as well. (Actually, i t was Rousseau the novelist and aut h o r o f L a Nouvelle Héloise, n o t the political philosopher a n d a u t h o r

o f The Social Contract, who was the Germans’ patron.) Hegel's main complaint, m o r e a product o f his Stift education than an insight into

the times, was the fact that “enlightenment” restricted itself

to

the

understanding, a complaint which h e repeats throughout this early

essay.>® Considering the enthusiasm o f the French Enlightenment, o f course, which i f anything was too limited i n understanding a n d impetuous i n its revolutionary action, this is a strange charge indeed. I n the Phe-

nomenology, Hegel quips sarcastically, “Enlightenment; with pure in37. For example, i n the section entitled “Unhappy Consciousness,” Phenomenology, 2071F. 3 8 . I n H a r r i s , p . 4 8 8 f f . “Religion g a i n s v e r y l i t t l e f r o m t h e u n d e r s t a n d i n g , w h o s e

operations . . . are more apt to n u m b the heart t h a n to warm it. . . . ”

Younger Hegel

123

sıght this will solve the problems o f the world.” But even looking a t the Aufklärung authors—Lessing and Mendelssohn—one wonders where Hegel finds such over-emphasis on understanding and neglect of practice. What 1s indeed missing is the radical political dimension o f French Enlightenment, and one might well speculate t o what ext e n t i f any Hegel is still, i n 1793, a closet revolutionary, a t least in sentiment.”® But the more important point is t o appreciate, beneath the criticisms and the unfair charge that Enlightenment as such was mere d r y theory, the extent t o which Hegel's whole philosophy is

founded on just those same Enlightenment principles—the healthy sense o f an intrinsically virtuous and pertfectible human nature, comm o n t o all humankind, t h a t anxious b u t still optimistic sense o f the bright new w o r l d , harmonious as that o f the ancients, just coming

into being through Enlightenment philosophy and its political manifestations i n France, and, most o f all, that powerful sense o f critical reason, practical reason, through which the past could be compre-

hended and the present understood. The themes o f Hegel’s early essay, then, might be summarized as a n Enlightenment credo, b u t the Enlightenment o f Rousseau, n o t the

more materialist Enlightenment o f some o f the other French philosophes. I n his emphasis o n sentiment and feeling, universal reason

and tolerance, Hegel shows himself t o be clearly in line with the Aufklärung o f Lessing and Mendelssohn, the sentimental Enlightenment of Rousseau, and the “practical reason” o f Kant, who will become a far more influential figure a few years later. But i t is i n his emphasis o n ceremonies, r i t u a l s , a n d community, t h a t Hegel i s m o s t obviously at

odds with Kant and far more faithful t o his ancient Greek ideal. A

“folk” religion depends n o t only o n universal reason and “fancy, heart a n d sensibility,” a c c o r d i n g to Hegel, b u t 1t is first a n d foremost a com-

munal experience. Religion as such—as we shall see throughout all o f his subsequent writings—is nothing less and little more than this shared sense o f belonging w h i c h is characteristic o f the happiest a n d most “natural” societies.

What is striking about this early essay is Hegel's persistent use o f that central image, the growth image, the Bildung metaphor. Like Rousseau a n d Goethe, h e believes i n a “natural,” inborn h u m a n virtuousness, a plant which—though i t needs proper care—develops i n its own direction and under its own power.“° This quasi-biological 39. See Harris, p . 115. F o r a more positive view see Plant, p . 52ff., and for a n utterly

belligerent view, see Lukacs, The Young Hegel, “Hegel's Early Republican Phase (Berne 1793-96),” pp. 1-89, i n which he rejects the standard interpretation o f Hegel's “theological period” as “a reactionary legend” (p. 3£f.). 40. I n Harris, p . 4 9 7 - 9 8 .

124

Setting the Stage

thinking extends throughout Hegel's works, and like Fichte, the bold abstraction which he sometimes calls “life” will always be his ultimate criterion—for philosophy, for religion, for morality: Subjective r e l i g i o n i s a l i v e ; objective r e l i g i o n 1s a n abstraction. . . .

the f o r m e r is the l i v i n g book o f nature, plants, insects, birds a n d beasts, as t h e y l i v e w i t h o n e a n o t h e r a n d u p o n o n e another, e a c h

l i v i n g its life a n d g e t t i n g i t s p l e a s u r e . . . t h e l a t t e r i s t h e c a b i n e t o f t h e naturalist w h e r e i n t h e i n s e c t s have b e e n killed, t h e plants dried, the animals stuffed o r p i c k l e d , a l l o r g a n i z e d for o n e single e n d w h e r e

n a t u r e h a d interlaced a n infinite variety o f ends i n a friendly bond.*!

This 1s a particularly striking passage. We shall see another variation i n the opening paragraph o f the Phenomenology. I t is a warning against any philosophy, theology, ethics, or metaphysics which puts first priority i n its own simplistic ideas rather than i n the diversity and fluidity of life? A n acceptable religion will be one that is “alive.” A n d so t o o a

successful philosophy. What the younger Hegel would demand o f his o w n Phenomenology, therefore, w o u l d be n o t so m u c h dlarity o r clev-

erness, n o t so m u c h the truth o f its conclusions o r the profundity o f

its pronouncements, but its sense o f vitality, a “bacchanalian revel.” The purpose o f philosophy is celebration as well as understanding, t o express and a u g m e n t the life of the human spirit, n o t t o analyze and process it. With this in mind, the obscurities and confusions of Hegel's work should n o t annoy us. The point is t o show that life is obscure and confused too. I n the following year, 1794, Hegel moved

to

Switzerland. His first

known writing there, which survives only as a fragment,** raises the question which is evaded throughout the Tubingen essay—whether Christianity (not Christian theology) might be a candidate for a renewed sense o f “subjectivity.” Hegel’s answer is that Christianity is “an Oriental religion, n o t grown o n o u r soil, and cannot be assimilated

therewith.” * 5 Christianity is n o t for Hegel the promise o f things

to

come, b u t a tradition to be overcome. I n this too, like Voltaire, h e is p a r t a n d parcel o f the pagan enlightenment. B u t h e is also part o f the G e r m a n Protestant tradition, after Luther, K a n t , a n d his o w n up-

bringing, and this means that Christianity, however foreign and unpromising, c a n n o t be ignored. Its language and its images, therefore, will pervade the whole o f Hegel's philosophy. 41. I n Harris, p. 484. 42. T h e comparison there (1 1) is with anatomy; the warning is that isolated parts (ideas) d o n o t yet a d d u p t o a l i v i n g whole ( p h i l o s o p h y ) . Cf. Phenomenology, 1. 43. Phenomenology, 47.

44. Harris, p. 509. 45. Ibid.

Younger Hegel

125

The “Positivity” of Christian Religion I n his early writings, Hegel used the word “natural,” an Enlightenword, t o refer t o moral sentiments and, with regard t o religion, that form o f religion that supported and nourished those sentiments. Christian theology certainly failed t o do so. The question was—Could Christianity itself serve that function?

ment

B y 1795, n o w a t a remove from his student gripes, Hegel came t o see a deeper objection t o Christian theology than its “objectivity.” I t

was authoritarian. I t failed t o

meet

the ultimate standard o f Enlight-

enment—autonomy, the confidence that every person had the ability a n d t h e right to m a k e u p his o r h e r o w n m i n d . Christianity n o t o n l y

failed t o appeal t o our “natural” sentiments but it positively thwarted them. This authoritarianism Hegel calls “positivity,” and religions that impose such principles he called “positive.” The climate o f Berne, his temporary h o m e in Switzerland after h e graduated from the Stift, was

itself highly positive (which Hegel complained about bitterly in his letters t o his friends.) His essays of the time, accordingly, were mainly attacks o n authoritarianism (though n o t necessarily o n authority as

such), and a diagnosis o f Christianity as itself intrinsically authoritarian or positive. The contrast, again, would be the religion o f ancient Greece, but, i f we may be permitted a slight pun, the message o f Hegel’s essay, “The Positivity o f the Christian Religion,” was almost wholly negative.

The Positivity-essay was written i n 1795, and there are good indications that Hegel i n t e n d e d to publish it as his first book. I n 1800, h e

turned t o i t again and began t o rewrite. The most significant change is one o f direction—instead o f diagnosing what w e n t wrong with Christianity, he begins t o suggest what was necessary for its developm e n t . But i t is clear that Hegel's ambitions reach far beyond those o f the scholarly philologist and biblical analyst. I t is the human Spirit itself that h e wants t o get his conceptual hands on.

Just before he w r o t e the Positivity-essay, Hegel attempted a shorter w o r k , even m o r e pretentious, i f n o t ludicrous, in its ambitions. I t was

called the “Life o f Jesus,” and i t was, among other things, a secularization o f the Christ story; G o d is “ p u r e reason,” M a r y is a naturally pregnant woman a n d Jesus is a mere mortal who actually dies o n a cross.*® Such attempts are commonplace n o w ; i n fact, they were a

literary platitude by the middle o f the 19th century.*” But i n Hegel's 46. See Harris, p p . 333ff, 1 9 4 - 2 0 7 . 47. C f . Nietzsche's early attacks, e.g. i n David Strauss: Confessor and Writer (1873), t h e

first o f four “Untimely Meditations.”

Setting the Stage

126

time, such attempts were blasphemy. Hegel’s intention was nothing less than to recast Christianity as a wholly secular religion, in which Jesus was n o more than a teacher o f morality—specifically the moral

philosophy of Kant— and the religion itself nothing other than an appeal to o u r o w n autonomous sense o f virtue—an announcement o f

the categorical imperative. I f Christianity were t o be made acceptable and shown to b e m o r e t h a n exotic imposition o n the m i n d s o f the West, then i t would have t o be shown t o be “natural” T h e “Life o f Jesus” was a clumsy attempt to do just that.*®

I n the short time since he had written the Tubingen essay, Hegel h a d finally read Kant, n o t as a student, b u t as a n enthusiast. Kant’

Religion within the Bounds ofReason Alone had been published as a book in 1793, and of course Hegel knew his Critique of Practical Reason (1788) from school. I n the Stift, Hegel had been taught a poor imitation o f its leading ideas, b u t now, w i t h a new a n d m o r e personal insight, H e gel was i n s p i r e d to take Kant’s “critique” o f Christianity as a “rational” (Le. “natural”) religion i n an entirely new direction.* O n the one hand,

he wholly accepted Kant’s essential thesis—that the sole justification for religion was its effects on human virtue. But on the other hand, he rejected Kant’s defense o f Christianity as the religion that best served morality. Too much o f Christianity was positive. Too much depended o n authority a n d revelation rather than o n the autonomous reason o f

the individual. Too much depended on divine sanction rather than o n the intrinsic importance o f virtue for its o w n sake.

The “Life o f Jesus” is a farce, but i t is a farce with a powerful philosophical ambition behind it. Having outgrown his rebellious reactions against the theology he learned a t school, Hegel now faces the monumental task of sorting o u t what he accepts, and what he does n o t , of the religion he has been taught all his life. What he wants t o show is that h e accepts Christianity insofar as i t fits his Enlightenment ideal o f m o r a l autonomy a n d its appeal to “natural” feelings. B u t n o sooner does he attempt t o show this than a crushing realization reveals his first attempt as a farce. T h e obvious truth o f the matter is that Jesus was n o Kant, that the m o r a l o f Jesus’ Sermon was n o t the

categorical imperative, that Christianity and Enlightenment (as the Romantics were to argue) were more opposed than identical, and that

religion has had little

to

do with individual autonomy.

48. Harris, p . 195ff, provides a more sympathetic reading o f this essay, as a n attempt t o re-establish Jesus’ Christianity o n a rational (i.e. Kantian) foundation, which is i n n o way a “falsification o f history,” b u t is rather “closer t o the literal language o f what

Jesus said than the language ascribed t o him i n the Gospel” (196). 49. Following H.E.G. Paulus and Immanuel Dietz, whom Hegel had studied at the Stift, See Harris, p p . 5 7 - 1 5 3 , a n d D i e t e r H e n r i c h Hegel i m Kontext ( F r a n k f u r t , 1971),

pp. 41-72. See also Schmidt, p. 127f.

Younger Hegel

127

Hegel’s Positivity-essay 1s his attempt t o come t o grips with the realization that Christianity 1s, from beginning t o end, “a religion grounded i n authority,” an anti-humanist metaphysics “which puts man’s worth a t nothing a t a l l . ” T h e antitheses he now recognizes go deeper than the simple “subjective—objective” distinction o f his first essay; there are o u r “natural” inclinations and reason o n the one side,

and on the other the tyrannical authorities o f institutionalized religion which d o n o t so m u c h neglect o u r feelings as manipulate them.

The Sermon o n the M o u n t was not just the Kantian appeal “Follow

your reason,’ but a terrifying set o f threats which said, “Follow me or be damned.” This was the foundation o f Christianity—unnatural, authoritarian, antithetical to real h u m a n concerns a n d interests. Even

Jesus, who had been so protected i n the “Life of Jesus” essay, could b e seen t o b e authoritarian, although Hegel excuses this as a peda-

gogical necessity.’! The problem o f the Positivity-essay, then, was t o trace the origins o f this m o s t “unnatural” religion, back through the church t o the disciples and the first days o f Jesus’ teaching. What were the circumstances t h a t forced this teacher o f morality t o initiate a religion so antithetical to h u m a n autonomy? T h e Kantian premise o f the Positivity-essay could n o t be more ex-

plicitly stated; “The aim and essence o f all true religion, our religion included, is human morality.”%? The question then becomes, t o what e x t e n t the doctrines and practices o f Christianity—whether i n belief o r action— “have their worth and their sanctity according t o that aim.”

Right from the beginning, Hegel insists that he is n o t willing t o begin his investigation with “a confession o f faith.” H e will keep his own individual convictions o u t o f the discussion— a revealing strategy, cons i d e r i n g the vindictiveness w i t h w h i c h h e then proceeds to treat some

o f the Judeo-Christian tradition’s m o s t central virtues. The main theme o f the essay begins with a discussion o f the Jews in ancient times. The treatment 1s harsh: T h e Jews were a people w h o derived their legislation from the supreme w i s d o m o n h i g h a n d whose s p i r i t was n o w ( i n the u m e o f J e s u s ) o v e r w h e l m e d b y a b u r d e n o f s t a t u t o r y commands w h i c h p e dantically p r e s c r i b e d a r u l e f o r e v e r y c a s u a l a c t i o n o f daily l i f e a n d g a v e t h e w h o l e p e o p l e t h e l o o k o f a monastic o r d e r . A s a r e s u l t o f t h i s s y s t e m t h e holiest o f t h i n g s , namely, t h e s e r v i c e o f G o d a n d

vir-

50. Early Theo. Mss. p . 721.

51. Hegel's view is ambivalent: H e [Jesus] undertook

to

raise religion and virtue t o

morality a n d to restore to morality t h e freedom which is its essence” (69). A n d i n t h e revised version: “ I t is very n a t u r a l t o expect that, once t h e n e w teaching o f Jesus had

been a d o p t e d by Jewish i n t e l l e c t s , i t

must have turned

into

free i t was i n itself despite its polemical f o r m ” e t c . (181).

52. Ibid. 68. 53. lbid,

something positive, however

128

Setting the Stage

ın

d e a d formulas, a n d n o t h i n g t u e , was o r d e r e d a n d compressed save p r i d e i n t h i s slavish o b e d i e n c e t o l a w s n o t laid d o w n b y t h e m -

selves was left

to

the Jewish spirit, which was already deeply morti-

fied a n d embittered b y t h e subjection o f t h e state t o a foreign power.**

Judaism, by its very essence, was a positive religion, based o n laws

“not laid down by” the Jews themselves. This is the model then, which Christianity had t o follow, and the positivity o f Christianity, according to Hegel, m u s t be traced back to the environment within which Jesus sought his first followers. T h e argument, simply stated, was that Jesus, i n addressing t h e Jews, h a d n o choice b u t to state his case in a positive way, “with no immediate connection with morality.” His commands derive their validity simply “from the fact that Jesus commanded them.”° His aim was t o show how Christianity became posi-

tive virtually from its inception, yet protect Jesus himself from

that

charge by interpreting his demagogical authoritarianism as a matter o f rhetoric rather than c o n t e n t . The c o n t e n t o f Jesus’ teachings, however h i d d e n in such talk o f the Messiah and miracles, consisted o f m o r a l laws based o n n a t u r a l human sentiments. So even i f h e said, “ I a m the way,” Jesus intended to instill a sense o f virtue in his followers

which was wholly “natural” I t was a tenuous argument. I t began by being knowingly unfair to Judaism, which was, as much as any religion, self-consciously moral.

(Hegel knew this from Mendelssohn.) I t continued the dubious theme of the “Life of Jesus” essay, that Jesus was a Kantian in disguise as the Messiah, even if the identity was n o longer presented as a farce. A n d ,

perhaps m o s t seriously, Hegel “saves” Jesus from the charge o f positivity only by rendering him wholly duplicitous and manipulative, even i f for a good cause. Hegel's ambivalence toward Jesus and Christianity will remain with him throughout his career. His attitude toward the Jews, however, deserves some brief comment a t least i n passing, since his often harsh indictments have frequently been interpreted as sowing the seeds of anti-Semitism that would have such devastating consequences i n this century. First, i t might be pointed o u t that the period i n which Hegel Is writing these essays was an exceptionally tolerant period in GermanJewish history, tor the French Enlightenment ideals, which included religious tolerance, had their effect i n Germany as well as in France. Hegel was wholly sympathetic t o this, and his analysis is more critical than vindictive or an expression o f anti-Semitism. I n fact, Hegel’s early

Enlightenment heroes in Germany were Jewish thinkers, especially 54. l b i d . 6 8 - 6 9 . 55. I b i d . 72.

Younger Hegel

129

Mendelssohn, w h o denied that Judaism was a positive religion based o n authority a n d n o t autonomous, since the Hebraic laws, whether positive o r n o t , were also expressions o f essential h u m a n needs a n d

sentiments.° Second, i t should be pointed

out

that, during the “re-

action” o f the 1820s, Hegel placed himself a t some risk, which h e was not prone t o do, o n behalf o f Jewish rights i n a period that was be-

coming virulently anti-Semitic. Third, i f his remarks are harsh, i n general they were n o t wholly different from the kinds o f complaints

often leveled by the Jews themselves and the kinds o f disputes within the various sects of Judaism: how literally t o interpret the laws, how secular, how assimilative, h o w democratic, and how authoritative. A n d

finally, Hegel's treatment o f the early Christians, including the founders o f the church, is no more sympathetic than his treatment o f the Jews. I t is the whole tradition he rejects. Revealingly, what he says o f the Jews (e.g. their self-contempt because o f their political impotence) was an accurate depiction o f German self-identity too, a point he makes clear i n Part I I o f the essay and i n a draft o f the essay o n the German constitution of t h e same year.” W h a t Hegel is d o i n g h e r e 1s playing a double game; o n the one

hand, he is attacking Jesus himself and the very

roots

of Christian

theology; b u t at the same time, h e 1s excusing Jesus by shifting the blame to the Gospels, a n d his audience, w h o were simply n o t “developed” enough t o understand the dictates o f rational reason, so needed

miracles and revelations instead. (The ploy comes straight o u t of Kant, who says that Christianity, “the religion o f reason, adapted itself t o the prejudices o f those times.”) But this idea o f “the Truth” being presented and taken u p in some sort o f primitive and inadequate form 1s the idea that will also form the core o f the Phenomenology of Spirit, whose central thesis is that the Truth (a quasi-mystical proposition, already defended b y Schelling as “ t h e Absolute”) is present i n

all “forms o f consciousness” but i n m o s t o f them distortedly and inadequately. Here, the Truth is a t one and the same time ascribed t o and denied t o Jesus who, after all, “could n o t contradict his friends.” Hegel's clear prose allows his own ambivalence t o be clear too—unlike the later writing i n the Phenomenology. I s Hegel attacking Jesus as h e tries t o protect him? O r he is praising Jesus even while undermin-

ing him? There can be n o doubt that Jesus is accused o f being personally au56. Harris, p. 284n. 57. I b i d . 145ff. “ T h e G e r m a n Constitution,” finished ( b u t n o t completed) i n 1802.

Hegel simply stopped working o n it: Napoleon had arrived. See Carl Friedrich, ed. The Philosophy ofHegel (New York: Knopf, 1953), pp. 527-39; and see Harris, p. 435ff., esp. 464ft. and 476.

130

Setting the Stage

thoritarian. I n one particularly sarcastic section, Hegel contrasts Jesus with Socrates, much t o the disadvantage of the former. Socrates, Hegel comments w i t h a sneer, had n o reason t o form a closed cult: Jesus had thought fit

to

fix the number o f his trusted friends

at

t w e l v e , a n d t o t h e s e as h i s m e s s e n g e r s a n d successors h e g a v e a w i d e authority a f t e r h i s r e s u r r e c t i o n . E v e r y m a n

has f u l l

authority for t h e

diffusion o f virtue, a n d there is n o sacrosanct n u m b e r o f the m e n

who feel called t o undertake the founding o f God’s kingdom on earth. Socrates d i d n o t have s e v e n disciples, o r three t i m e s t h r e e ; a n y friend

o f v i r t u e was welcome.>8

Socrates, unlike Jesus, encouraged individual thinking i n his friends, and embraced “the democratic spirit,” according t o Hegel, and I n tune with the Enlightenment thinking o f Hegel's time. ( I n fact, one o f the reasons for Socrates’ condemnation by the Athenians was his opposi-

tion t o democracy.)® From t h e i r y o u t h u p , the friends o f Socrates had developed their powers i n m a n y d i r e c t i o n s . T h e y h a d absorbed t h a t democratic spirit

w h i c h gives a n i n d i v i d u a l a greater m e a s u r e o f i n d e p e n d e n c e a n d

makes i t impossible for any tolerably good head t o depend wholly a n d a b s o l u t e l y o n o n e p e r s o n . I n t h e i r s t a t e i t was w o r t h while t o

have

a political

interest,

and an

interest of that

kind

can never be

sacrificed. M o s t o f t h e m h a d a l r e a d y b e e n pupils o f o t h e r philosop h e r s a n d o t h e r t e a c h e r s . T h e y l o v e d S o c r a t e s b e c a u s e o f his v i r t u e and his philosophy, n o t virtue and his philosophy because o f him. Just as Socrates had fought for his native land, had fulhlled all the duties o f a free citizen as a brave soldier i n war and a just judge i n peace, so too all his f r i e n d s w e r e something m o r e t h a n m e r e i n a c t i v e philosophers, than mere pupils o f Socrates. Moreover, they had the capacity t o work i n their own heads on what they had learned and g o g i v e i t t h e s t a m p o f t h e i r o w n originality. M a n y o f t h e m f o u n d e d schools o f t h e i r o w n ; i n t h e i r o w n r i g h t t h e y w e r e m e n as great as

Socrates.®° As a strategy to b r i n g o u t the “positivity” o f Jesus’ teachings, the contrast

with Socrates is ideal. But what Hegel has in mind is some-

t h i n g more than Socrates’ appeal as a supposedly free-thinker; i t is

also his intense loyalty t o the state, his unwavering sense o f citizenship t o the society that condemns h i m . Jesus, o f course, was condemned 58. Early Theo. Mss., p . 82. 59. See L.F. Stone’s trans-temporal sleuthing i n the New York Times Magazine, January 1978. 60. Early Theo. Mss., p. 82. 61. Thus i n the same year, 1795, Jacques-Louis David (1748-1825) submitted t o the Paris Salon his heroic portrait o f “The Death of Socrates” (now i n the Metropolitan M u s e u m in New York). I n France, just b e f o r e t h e r e v o l u t i o n , t h e depiction o f Socrates’ self-sacrifice offered t h e public a n unambiguous message. T h e p i c t u r e was w o r t h a t l e a s t a h u n d r e d w o r d s o r s o , t h e w o r d s b e i n g t h e final arguments i n t h e C r i t o : Socrates: S u p p o s e t h a t while w e w e r e preparing t o r u n a w a y f r o m h e r e , t h e L a w s o f A t h e n s w e r e t o c o n f r o n t u s a n d a s k : ‘ d o y o u i m a g i n e that a c i t y c a n c o n t i n u e t o exist a i d n o t b e t u r n e d

Younger Hegel

131

t o o , but as an outsider. Socrates was the teacher within a republic, who appealed t o the wisdom he shared with his countrymen. I n Rousseau’s

terms, h e was a citizen, n o t merely a man. Jesus spoke for “humanity,”

died “for humanity,” but he appealed t o those who had no home, who had n o loyalties save to h i m . Later o n i n his career, Hegel will recon-

sider the significance of dying “for all mankind”; but a t this point i n his career, he sees primarily the fact of Jesus’ alienation, and Christianity as a n ideology for the alienated.

I t is important t o appreciate just how social Hegel's whole perspective is. Kant had subsumed all religious questions under the rubric o f morality; for Hegel they are rather consumed by concerns about community. His ideal is the Greek polis or city-state, i n which religion is essentially a cohesive force within the community, rather than a subversive force threatening the state. Indeed, Hegels whole prog r a m — i n so far as he may b e said to have one—is

to

clarity for him-

self the relationship between three very different paradigms m his life and contemporary culture,—the avant-garde moral philosophy of Kant, the historical teachings o f Jesus, and the nostalgic sense he shared with Hölderlin and m o s t German intellectuals for the harmonious community o f the ancient Greek city-state. I n the Positivity-essay, h e

is still struggling t o hold them all together, but he is already having his doubts. Thus his ambivalence toward Jesus, and his later ambivalence toward Kant. But even in the Phenomenology, eleven years later, i t will be Hegel’s sense o f admiration for the polis that lies a t the heart o f his views about “spirit” and religion i n general. And yet, the underlying c o n t r a s t o f the entire essay, including the revised version o f four years later, is this unflattering portrait of an impersonal, alienated, authoritarian cult of Christianity versus the “sound intuition” and “pure morality” o f the Greeks. How can we worship Jesus when it is Socrates who emerges so much more admirable? And here again Hegel shifts the blame, n o t this time t o Jesus’ Jewish audience, b u t to the church; i t ignores the rights pertaining t o every faculty o f the human mind, i n particular t o the chief o f them, reason. Once the church’s system i g n o r e s r e a s o n , i t c a n b e n o t h i n g save a s y s t e m t h a t despises m a n . “

But the church, according t o Hegel, is an institution that is primarily political, n o t religious, a n d i t s authoritarianism i s b o u n d t o i n c r e a s e as

it increases its base o f power; u p s i d e - d o w n i f t h e legal judgments w h i c h a r e p r o n o u n c e d i n i1 have n o f o r c e a n d are nullified a n d d e s t r o y e d b y private citizens? . . . H a v e y o u n o l u n d e r i a k e n , i n d e e d i f n o t i n word, t o l i v e

your life

as a dilizen

in

obedience to us?’ What

are we 10 say to that Crito?

Critoe: W e c a n n o t h e l p i t , Socrates. Socrates: Then g i v e i t up C r i t o . . . G o d p o i n t s t h e way.

62. Early Theo. Mss., p. 143.

132

Setting the Stage T h e farther i t spread from its source, the more i t retained i n t u r n merely t h e r u l e s a n d l a w s o f i t s f o u n d e r ; a n d t h e s e n o w b e c a m e for

its adherents n o t laws that issued from freedom b u t ecclesiastical statutes all over again.®?

Religion necessarily begins i n sects o r cults, Hegel tells us, small,

intimate groups o f like-minded peers for whom religion is first o f all a b o n d o f friendship, b u t as they grow, these become increasingly

defensive and, finally, offensive, as intimacy and personal bonds give way t o abstract rules and impersonal rituals. And what begins as ınterpersonal love a n d respect turns i n t o a mere abstraction. “Equality,” for example, “was a principle with the early Christians . . . m e n were t o be valued n o t by honors or dignity, n o t by talents or other brilliant qualities, but by the strength of their faith. This theory t o be sure, has been retained in all its comprehensiveness, but with the clever

addition that i t is i n the eyes o f Heaven that all m e n are equal i n this sense. F o r this reason it [ t h e theory o f equality] receives n o further

notice i n this earthly life” 5 4 . This kind o f political sarcasm, attacking religion for its failures i n the social realm, is the key t o the essay. But i t m u s t be noted that Hegel is thereby reconsidering one o f the central t e n e t s o f the Enightenment—the total separation o f church and state. This 1s t a n t a m o u n t t o depriving a society o f its moral authority, he argues, as well as the substance o f its spiritual (i.e. communal) life. O n e m i g h t well

speculate on how Hegel would respond

to

our own contemporary

“ r e - b i r t h ” o f Christian cultism, for h e too was torn between the E n -

ightenment sense o f toleration for different religious beliefs (like Rousseau, for example, who thought only that some such belief should b e mandatory) a n d his sense that the sole function o f religion was to

provide the unifying “spiritual” force t o community. But the political hegemony o f one particular religion—the Lutheran church i n Germany, for instance—seemed t o him t o signify the failure o f religious faith and a r e t r e a t into pure positivity.® Hegel 1s n o t “anti-Christian”; he is ambivalent. The problem that plagues him is the problem that will provide the impetus t o his entire philosophy—How does one create a meaningful sense o f existence in this modern society o f large nation-states? What is the source o f legitimacy o f authority i n general and how is i t t o be reconciled with the m o r a l autonomy o f the individual? T h e answer, defended i n several

essays by Kant, then Fichte, then Schelling, and finally Hegel (but n o t 63. Ibid. 142. 64. 1bid. 88—89. 65. H e g e l e v e n m a k e s t h e Nietzschean suggestion t h a t t h e urge t o e x p a n d is i n an expression o f r e s e n t m e n t against those who can live w i t h o u t positive religion.

fact

133

Younger Hegel

until 1802-3) was “natural” law, a sense o f authority that was wholly based o n reason a n d interests which were t o be found i n each a n d every i n d i v i d u a l . B u t to see h o w this term s h o u l d b e interpreted i n -

evitably turned Into a re-examination o f Christianity (which claimed t o provide such a law), morality (which also claimed t o have discovered such a law), the ancient Greeks (who seemed t o have h a d that sense o f unity without the need o f a law), and, ultimately, the whole

history o f civilization, i n order t o see, once and for all, what human life was really about. What role i n this over-all picture o f human life should Christianity play? Was i t the final truth o f practical reason, as Hegel h a d been

taught i n the Stift? Was i t merely a stage i n the evolution o f a more secular and sensible world order, as Lessing had argued i n his “Education o f M a n k i n d ” ? Was i t the political province of a particularly powerful family of self-indulgent, hypocritical institutions: the church ( i n its various denominations) as some o f the French philosophes had charged? O r could i t be that Christianity was, after all, the “true”

religion but, despite this, only a hint toward the truth i t really contained? Thus anticipating the whole religious image o f the Phenomenology, H e g e l writes,

Jesus may have been conscious o f a tie between himself and God, o r he may merely have held that the law hidden i n our hearts was an immediate revelation o f God o r a hidden spark . . . 7

I f the second suggestion were t r u e , then Jesus may have seen himself as more o f a symbol than the actual Godhead, the lesson, only t o be

understood years later (in 1807, t o be precise) that God 1s n o t only “in” u s all; we all are God. Such is the “Spirit” o f Hegel's Phenomenology. I f Hegel shared Kant’s concern with humanity, however, he was even 66. I n 1787 Hegel read Lessing's “Education o f Mankind” i n high school (see Harris, p. 99n.). H e re-read i t i n 1793 and i t has been argued that i t deeply influenced his over-all project (Kaufmann, p. 67f.). Lessing argued that history might be understood i n three stages: t h e first t h e w o r l d o f t h e O l d Testament, the second the w o r l d o f t h e N e w Testament, the third, just beginning, a world o f universal love a n d mutual respect

and tolerance. I t is n o t difficult t o see i n this model (which Lessing found i n medieval texts too) the prototype o f Hegel's o w n “dialectic” (Kaufmann) and also the Enlightenm e n t direction o f Hegel's own thinking, i n which the spiritual community once only possible i n small sects a n d c u l t s w o u l d n o w b e c o m e available t o t h e w h o l e o f humanity.

B u t Lessing’s work was probably not as decisive a n inspiration t o the dialectic as James Steuart’s Inquiry into the Principles o f Political Economy [ n e w ed., B o y d , ed. (Edinburgh,

1966)], which Hegel read (and according to one o f his biographers wrote a commentary about) i n 1799. Raymond Plant, for example, suggests that i t is here that “the notion o f a rationally discernible development i n history” e n t e r s Hegel's thought (Hegel, p. 57). B u t t h e n , w h e n H e g e l “ d i s c o v e r e d ” history a n d d i a l e c t i c d e p e n d s m e a n t by “history” a n d “dialectic”; Harris points o u t Hegel’s love

largely o n what is o f history even i n

high school; Hegel rejects “historicism” i n philosophy even i n 1801 (in the Differenzessay) a n d t h e r o l e o f “ h i s t o r y ” i n t h e Phenomenology is, t o say t h e least, problematic. 67. Early Theo. Mss., p. 76.

Setting the Stage

154

m o r e concerned, as we have indicated, with Germany. What effects

has Christianity had i n his own country? And it is here that his sense o f the peculiar mythology and Volk-religion o f Germany, which he had learned from Herder, becomes extremely important. “Every nation,” h e writes, “has its o w n imagery, its gods, angels, devils o r saints w h o live o n in the nation’s traditions, whose stories a n d deeds the nurse tells t o her charges and so wins them over by impressing their

imagination.”% For the ancient Germans, the imagery was Valhalla (the great hall o f O d i n , the god o f war, poetry, knowledge, a n d wisd o m , where the souls o f heroes w h o h a d d i e d i n battle gathered). But, Christianity has e m p t i e d Valhalla, felled the sacred groves, extir-

pated the national imagery as a shameful superstition, as a devilish p o i s o n , a n d g i v e n u s i n s t e a d t h e i m a g e r y o f a n a t i o n whose climate, laws, c u l t u r e a n d i n t e r e s t s a r e foreign t o u s a n d w h o s e h i s t o r y h a s

no connection with our own.%

Hegel's lament repeats his complaint from Berne,

that

Christianity is

a “foreign” temperament, a n d the result 1s a tragic lack o f pride a n d sense o f belonging for the German Volk. Consequently, they had been caught u p i n wars as pawns, n o t fighting for anything in particular, b u t just following o r d e r s . ” T h e contrast, again, 1s w i t h Athens, where

every citizen and even every visitor would know the whole history, culture, every law, and the pride o f Athens, just by being there. The contrast too m i g h t be made w i t h Germany in o u r o w n times, a n d what seems to us its fanaticism for political images and absolutes; . without any religious imagery which is home-grown o r linked w i t h o u r h i s t o r y , w e a r e w i t h o u t a n y p o l i t i c a l i m a g e r y whatever; all

that we have 1s the remains o f a n imagery o f o u r own, l u r k i n g a m i d the common p e o p l e u n d e r the name o f superstition.”"

T h u s we can see i n this essay Hegel's ambivalence t o o about the pro-

vincial Volk-superstitions o f Germany vis-a-vis the more abstract universal ideals o f the Enlightenment. He 1s drawn t o Herder and the Sturm und Drang poets (from whom these lines are partly borrowed) as well as Kant, Lessing, and the Enlightenment. H e even rejects “the Greek mythology o f more educated people,” for i t t o o is n o t “homegrown” and no longer plausibly “universal.” And so, i n this very negative essay, Hegel pushes aside the traditional answers; the worlds o f the O l d a n d the N e w Testament are 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

Ibid. Ibid. 1bid. Ibid. Ibid.

145. 146.

147. 148.

Younger Hegel dead and gone; the wisdom o f the Volk 1s t o o naive

135 to

be the whole

t r u t h ; Greek mythology is a handy contrast b u t one cannot “ g o back”

as Rousseau t o o had warned; Germany had lost its imagery and nothing seemed ready t o replace it; the world had lost its sense o f community, and Christianity was n o t the religion which could provide it. I n fact, Hegel here raises the question that later was so t o vex Nietzsche (and had already been raised by Rousseau), namely—How was i t possible for Christianity, a “slave religion,” t o conquer homegrown pagan religions socially so superior? The answer h e gives is confined t o Rome,

the increased size and secularism in which people lost their sense o f participation, turned Instead t o an empty individualism wholly concerned with personal property and material welfare, i n which the life of the individual took on absolute importance. (The same argum e n t reappears twice i n the Phenomenology, in chapter 6.) The undoto

i n g o f this view, however, was death; for every individual: Death, the p h e n o m e n o n w h i c h demolishes the whole structure o f his purposes and the activity o f his entire life, m u s t have come to be

something terrifying, since nothing survived him. But the republican’s w h o l e s o u l was i n t h e republic; t h e republic s u r v i v e d h i m , a n d t h e r e h o v e r e d before h i s m i n d t h e t h o u g h t o f i t s immortality.”

And i n the face o f this terrifying, total end, Christianity looked most attractive. But notice that “immortality” here refers not t o the survival o f the soul after death, but the continuation of the meaning of one’s life i n the community.”* And this is what Hegel wants t o reformulate, this sense o f meaning, against the individualism o f his own time, i n which life is something more than personal well-being, a notion which

had become extremely t e n u o u s i n the shadow of the violence o f the French Revolution. How could this be done? Not by simply rejecting Christianity, n o t by simply reinterpreting Jesus as a proto-Kantian, and n o t by blindly idolizing the Greek polis, so different n o t only i n size but i n form from the modern nation-state. But this is the task o f Hegel's philosophy, and, in particular, the vital task (as opposed t o the merely m o r e aca-

demic problems) which drives us through the Phenomenology.

73. Ibid. 157. 74. Robert J. Lifton provides us w i t h a m o d e r n example o f the same sense o f “ i m -

mortality” i n his report o n Hiroshima and its survivors; they describe their despair n o t i n t e r m s o f their own personal deaths but i n t e r m s o f the realization that their whole world, family, friends, and community seemed t o be ending t o o . I t 1s a timely reminder today.

136

Setting the Stage

Images from Hölderlin For t h e pensive God

Hates

Untimely Growth — Hölderlin

After school a t Tübingen, the three friends, Hegel, Schelling, and Hölderlin, kept u p their correspondence and their mutual affections. I t was Hölderlin who secured Hegel jobs as a t u t o r ın the lean years after graduation; i t was eventually Schelling who arranged his first academic j o b a n d launched him o n his philosophical career. But it

was also by way o f Hölderlin and Schelling t h a t we m u s t understand the m o s t immediate influences on Hegel's somewhat late intellectual development. H e read what they read; he picked u p ideas and images they had been working with and publishing for years. And i t was Hölderlin, beyond question, who was pivotal i n the emergence o f Hegel’s most dramatic images, both while they were students in Tübingen until 1793, a n d afterward.”

I n 1795 Hölderlin moved t o Frankfurt t o become the t u t o r t o the children o f a wealthy banker, Gontard. Hegel would join him there a year or so later. I n the meantime, Hölderlin became increasingly intimate with Gontard’s young wife, Susette and, whether consummated o r n o t , the relationship came to represent for Hölderlin the

profound experience imaginable. H e came t o call her “Diotima,” and she inspired some o f his most lyrical poems, filled (a la Klopstock) with sacred and religious images turned secular.’ Philosophically, she

most

presented h i m with a n experience which came t o represent t o h i m

the ultimate realization of the cosmic spirit, i n a word, an enthusiastic harmony i n which all o f life comes together i n a single seemingly etern a l moment. T h e experience is familiar to all o f us, o f course, b u t we are n o t poets, a t least, n o t with Holderlin’s extraordinary gifts and extravagant imagination. F o r h i m , i t surnmarized all that h e had been

searching for in his reading, his thinking, his discourse with his friends, 75. Schelling was five years younger than Hegel and Hölderlin and impressionable; Hegel, the “old man” o f the group, was distinctively less creative and, a t this point i n his life, was still struggling for a philosophical identity. Hölderlin had already “found himself” as a poet before leaving school, a n d by the mid-1790s h e was writing his best works.

76. Such now familiar devices as calling a flesh and blood woman “angel” were unthinkable before 1750 o r so. Klopstock, the m o s t powerful o f the Sturm und Drang poets, introduced this device i n t o his own passionate poetry, and i t was particularly s u i t e d t o t h e romantic i m a g e s H ö l d e r l i n e m p l o y e d t o express h i s l o v e for S u s e t t e - D i o tima.

Younger Hegel

137

and his prior poetry, couched i n ancient images and carried on classical meters.”” Now the experience he imagined t o be the common lot of the Greeks had become his t o o , and his poetry broke through the bounds o f Greek meter and his thoughts—though couched i n language o f the divine—became increasingly secular, concerned with nat u r e and the tangible. T h e cosmic spirit had now come d o w n t o earth,

a n d f o u n d itself embodied i n a single, illicit liaison whose e n d was all too

unavoidable. Truth had become—a woman.

The image o f Truth as a woman, and the relationship with Truth as a quasi-sexual one, seems ludicrous to Anglo-American ears, for whom “ t r u e ” is a condition o f cold propositions. B u t i t is a n image

that thoroughly permeates ancient Greek philosophy, and German philosophy too, notably i n Hegel's concept o f “com-prehension.” Pla-

to's view o f the will

to

truth is often expressed i n

terms

that suggest

lust, and the German feminine noun, die Wahrheit, becomes easily mixed

with such less than poetic images as “grasping”.”® Thus Hegel and Goethe often switch at a crucial moment to the neuter das Wahre, just

when that sexual imagery becomes a bit t o o blatant. Nietzsche, who was profoundly impressed by Hélderlin, would later preface one of his books (Beyond Good and Evil) w i t h the speculation, “Suppose Truth is a woman. I s i t n o t possible that philosophers have n o t k n o w n how t o handle her?” The imagery 1s obviously well entrenched even i n the German language itself. This is an important metaphorical feature of

o u r discussion, therefore, which should n o t be lost i n the too p o n d e r ous prose i n which such images are often buried. B u t in Hölderlin,

who had poetic license i n such matters, the image is bold and forthright. Through their correspondence, Hegel, Hölderlin, and Schelling began t o evolve a religion based on the worship of the ancient gods Zeus and Ceres (the goddess o f Earth), with a mystical sense o f thé

substance that permeated and held the universe together—the Ether. This is a theory thoroughly discredited by modern physics, which no longer abhors a vacuum, b u t the idea o f a universal substance then

seemed inescapable. Along with the spiritualization o f n a t u r e i n general, the Ether h a d to be spiritualized as well. T h e clumsy attempt at f o r m i n g a new religion was exactly r i g h t for Hegel's o w n clumsy at77. I n 1796, this w o u l d have been a virtually obligatory device, for both Goethe a n d Schiller were a t t h e h e i g h t o f t h e i r o w n classical phase, a n d i t was t h e i r various journals (that year, t h e Neue Thalia) to which H ö l d e r l i n was submitting his poems.

78. T h e thesis about Plato’s sexual imagery I owe t o Paul Woodruff; for long discussions about Holderlin’s poetry and specifically the German feminine imagery surroundi n g die Wahrheit, 1 owe much (and more) t o Christopher Middleton.

138

Setting the Stage

tempt to criticize Christianity a n d suggest some version o f Greek folk-

religion that might take its place. I n a much more sophisticated mode, i t also provided the romantic outlet for Schelling’s now very Fichtean

philosophy, and the concept o f the World-Soul which he was developing for his philosophy of nature.” And i t was spectacularly suited t o Holderlin’s nostalgic poetic genius and his desire t o revitalize o u r c o n c e p t o f Nature, r e i n t e g r a t e H u m a n i t y a n d N a t u r e , a n d i n t e r p r e t

the whole under the image of a unified world-spirit, struggling for its®° own self-realization. Hegel arrived i n Frankfurt late i n 1796 t o begin tutoring in January. H ö l d e r l i n a n d S c h e l l i n g h a d l o s t c o n t a c t , b u t b o t h w e r e i n t o u c h

w i t h Hegel. Hölderlin, meanwhile, h a d been carrying o n a corre-

spondence with Schiller, but a one-sided correspondence for Schiller was slow i n answering and sometimes ignored him. As something of a n overseer o f the poetry o f Germany i n those days, Schiller (with

Goethe) had a disastrous effect on Hölderlin. His rejections were like wounds; his neglect left Hölderlin brooding and morbid. And a t the end o f the summer o f 1798, Hölderlin was expelled from the Gontard household. H e d i d not move far—only to H o m b u r g , b u t the

word that permeates his letters t o Susette (and hers t o him) is “Pain”.8! Meanwhile, Hegel could n o t have been much by way of emotional support, for h e was going through his o w n inner crisis. H.S. Harris

quotes Hegel's sister Christine describing him as “very withdrawn” #2 and surmises that Hegel's depression continued for some time after his move t o Frankfurt. I t has been suggested, for example, by Lukacs and T M . Knox, that this brought about a “revolution i n Hegel thinking,” which H a r r i s denies.® B u t this m u c h is clear—that H o l d erlin’s influence o n Hegel was never greater. Harris suggests that H e -

gel’s goal was perfectly clear, an “inward certainty,” but that he did not k n o w h o w to get there.®* B u t i t should be noted that Hölderlin was also t a k i n g a t u r n back toward Christianity, a n d Hegel's apparent

change o f t o n e from u t t e r antagonism t o appreciation for Christianity can be understood largely i n t e r m s o f Hölderlin. for Physics was published i n 1796. 79. Schelling’s b o o k , The World-Soul as a Hypothesis 80. O n e m i g h t t h i n k “ h e r ” o r perhaps “ h i m , ” b u t Hélderlin’s Geist seems more ideali z e d a n d less sexually specific. G i v e n t h e j o i n t emphasis o n C e r e s a n d Z e u s , a h e r m a phroditic image is more plausible. H e quotes Sophocles; “Dost thou n o t see above and a r o u n d us t h e i m m e a s u r a b l e E t h e r which e m b r a c e s t h e e a r t h with c o o l arms? T h a t is G o d . ” I t a k e this t o m e a n t h a t Spirit is t h e unity o f t h e whole, n o t i t s parts.

81. “ O n l y by m y pain am I aware that I am still alive” and “ H o w I love this pain: i f i t should leave me and I should again be numb, how 1 seek with longing t o feel i t again.” 82. Harris, p . 258.

83. Ibid. 259, 84. Ibid. 266.

139

Younger Hegel

Just before coming to F r a n k f u r t , Hegel wrote a poem, Eleusis, u n -

der Hölderlin’s influence, and the poem is addressed t o Hölderlin. I t is distinctly unphilosophical, even mystical, and i t is a n expression of the half-baked neo-classical religion the friends were i n the process o f inventing. H e says “ I t is the Ether o f my homeland too/ the solemnity, t h e s p l e n d o r t h a t s u r r o u n d s y o u . ” I t is t h e s p i r i t o f t h e G r e e k

Goddess, the great Earth-Mother who is the poem’s subject, and God is “the human absolute o f the free heart” When they were together i n F r a n k f u r t , there can be n o d o u b t about the richness o f the ex-

change between them, which seemed t o pull Hegel o u t o f his depression a n d get h i m w o r k i n g again. B u t H ö l d e r l i n seems n o t to have

benefited so much from Hegel's presence, despite his first expectations, and as Hegel regained his confidence, Hölderlin was already beginning t o become u n d o n e . I t 1s h a r d to say, i n the absence o f m o r e evidence, which o f the

friends suggested which o f the images,- but the bets seem heavily t o tavor Holderlin.® I n particular, the image of the cosmic spirit, effusi n g itself t h r o u g h o u t n a t u r e a n d history, seemed to come from h i m ,

be played o u t i n philosophy first by Schelling, a decade later by Hegel. The vital image o f the ancient Greeks, which had interested Hegel even i n high school, probably became a passion only with to

Hölderlin, a n d i t is n o t coincidental that Hegel's enthusiasm for the

Greeks begins t o wane just when he and Hölderlin are separated. I t is probably Hölderlin, the only t r u e “romantic” (in the ordinary sense) o f the three, w h o introduces the idea o f Love as the ultimate

unifying principle, an image that dominates Hegel's thinking a t this time and becomes the centerpiece o f his n e x t essay, “The Spirit of Christianity and Its Fate,” which he started i n 1798, just when Holderlin begins t o move back t o Christianity.?” I t is Hölderlin who uses the all-important phrase “the fluidity o f the concept,” and his own 85. L i k e t h e flat-footed Goose, I a m standing i n a m o d e r n puddle, Impatiently

flapping my wings t o w a r d s

the

sky o f

a n c i e n t Greece.

O h soul o f Greece, I m u s t go down. I m u s t s e e k y o u i n t h e r e a l m s o f t h e d e a d . (Hyperion). 86. H a r r i s provides a n extensive account o f Hegel's o w n w o r k d u r i n g this period, and discusses a t length Hegel's g r o w i n g friendship with Holderlin’s friend Sinclair, w h o m

I have omitted for simplicity’s sake (pp. 258-310). Also J. Hoffmeister, Hölderlin und Hegel in Frankfurt (Tübingen, 1931). 87. See Harris for a n e x t e n d e d discussion o f the formulation o f this thesis (pp. 310fF., esp. 3 1 6 - 1 7 , 3 2 2 - 4 6 ) . We will discuss t h e essay itself i n the f o l l o w i n g section. I t

is worth noting that Hélderlin’s m o s t ambitious work o f this period was a long poem Empedokles, a f t e r t h e philosopher o f L o v e a n d Strife w h o a r g u e d t h a t t h e unity o f t h e v a r i o u s p r o c e s s e s a n d separate t h i n g s i n t h e world i s L o v e , w h i c h i s i n e v i t a b l y t o r n a p a r t b y conflict, o n l y t o b e j o i n e d once a g a i n a n d s e v e r e d o n c e a g a i n , a n d s o o n . (Empedokles l i v e d from about 4 8 4 to 4 2 4 B . C ) .

140

Setting the Stage

poetry is still a lesson t o radical poets wanting t o see how far a language and its images can be stretched i n the search for some cosmic

inspiration.®® I t is Hölderlin who employs the Bildung imagery, which he picked u p more or less directly from Goethe and Schiller, and Hölderlin who urges the “synthesis of Nature and Spirit,” which becomes the main theme o f Schelling’s philosophy and the a t least nominal goal o f Hegel's Phenomenology and later “system.” The word “Absolute” appears i n Hölderlin first t o o , although—again—it was borrowed from immediate influences, notably Fichte. None of this is t o subtract from Hegel's own achievements i n the least; h e p r i d e d himself o n his synthetic abilities, although one would have liked to have seen a n occasional reference o r at least a gesture

of concern for Hölderlin i n the Phenomenology. By the time Hegel had begun t o write his great book, i n fact, Hölderlin was hopelessly insane; a single note might have given us a very different picture o f Hegel's personality, as a concerned friend rather than an ambitious and impersonal philosophical system-builder. But i n 1797-98, the friendship obviously came first, and as a step i n Hegel's development, Holderlin deserves a very special place. The divinity of Man was his idea, and unlike Hegel, he suffered mightily for it— I loved m y h e r o e s as a m o t h loves t h e light. I s o u g h t t h e i r d a n g e r o u s

p r o x i m i t y a n d fled i t a n d sought i t a g a i n . . . .

I b e c a m e w h a t I saw,

and what I saw was God-like.—Hyperion

L o v e a n d the Spirit o f Christianity T o a c t i n t h e spirit o f t h e laws c o u l d n o t h a v e m e a n t for h i m “ t o a c t o u t o f r e s p e c t for

duty

i n love all —“The Spirit o f Christianity and I t s Fate”

a n d t o contradict i n c l i n a t i o n s ” . . .

thought o f d u t i e s v a n i s h e s .

I n 1799, Hegel w r o t e another “theological” essay (no longer “antitheological”) entitled “The Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate.” Wilhelm Dilthey and later Richard Kroner called i t “the m o s t beautiful thing H e g e l ever wrote.” That is a matter o f opinion, o f course, b u t

what almost every reader of Hegel’s early works would agree about is 88. T h e lesson about stretching concepts, o f course, is taken t o heart by Hegel i n his own “speculative” language (see the following sections and Chapter 4a), though probably furthering his obscurity rather than his insights. Heidegger has written a long study o f Hölderlin (Hölderlin and the Spirit ofPoetry, m Essence and Being, W. Brock trans. ( N e w York: Ungar, 1964)) which, however m u c h i t misses t h e spirit o f Holderlin’s i m a n ambitious effort t o capture t h e philosophical import o f p o e t i c language, which Heidegger himself uses t o the e n d o f total obfuscation i n his later works.

agery, is

Younger Hegel

141

the fact that, between the Positivity-essay o f 1795 and this essay of 1799, his style had changed dramatically. During this period, he had left Berne, where h e felt completely cut off from everything, and moved t o a tutoringjob i n Frankfurt, which Hölderlin had arranged for him. H e s p e n t t w o seemingly stimulating years i n the active intellectual climate provided by his old friend, and i n 1799 Hegel’s father died, leaving his son enough money t o allow him t o think for the first time

about a n ıll-paid b u t prestigious career i n the universities. For the

first time too he seems t o have begun t o think of philosophy as the answer t o the questions he had been formulating awkwardly for years. Unfortunately, t o be a philosopher with professional ambitions, then as now, meant that one h a d to be profound, i.e. obscure a n d serious,

1.e. humorless and extremely tedious, and so Hegel began t o learn the jargon and elongate and quality his sentences i n the “speculative” style of Schelling, who i n fact was a much better and much livelier writer. Gone was the obvious sarcasm o f the earlier essays. Edited o u t or qualified t o death were the themes that earlier, i f published, would have assured him life-long exile from the academic establishment (like the “young Hegelians” forty years later, including young Marx). Gone too was the fresh innocence o f the social critic i n his twenties taking

on the whole o f human nature i n a few simple essays; no more simple “reflection” (i.e. ordinary attempts a t understanding), only “speculation,” which breaks through the distinctions o f ordinary speech t o provide a language which only a handful of colleagues can possibly understand. Whether Reality is better expressed thereby is a question which I do n o t w a n t t o take u p here.?? T h e “ S p i r i t o f Christianity,” however, is still readable. Written i n Frankfurt i n 1798-99, i t m i g h t at once be viewed as a n extension o f his arguments i n the Positivity-essay a n d as a reaction against them.

I n particular, i t is a reconsideration o f Jesus and Christianity, a continuation o f his doubts about Christianity as a possible vehicle for community spirit and his accusations aimed against the Jews for both Jesus’ personal failure and the more insidious divisions within Christianity. What is quite new here is a rather sharp t u r n against Kant®*— whom Hegel now sees as embodying the same faults as Christianity

rather than providing a viable alternative—and a much more accept89. See “Hegel's Crisis,” in Harris, pp. 265ff, esp. p. 269. I think Harris is too sympathetic t o H e g e l ' s obscurity, a n d his o w n detailed i n t e r p r e t a t i o n would s e e m t o indic a t e t h a t h i s n e w l a n g u a g e was m o r e d e f e n s i v e a n d p r o f e s s i o n a l t h a n philosophical as s u c h . C f . Harriss c o l l a b o r a t o r Walter C e r f o n o n e o f Hegel's l a t e r essays: “ t h e m o r e complex the grammatical construction o f a sentence a n d t h e less clear its m e a n i n g , the more speculative i t w i l l be.” 90. H e g e l h a d finally undertaken a t h o r o u g h r e a d i n g o f K a n t ’ s Metaphysics o fMorals

i n 1798.

142

Setting the Stage

i n g attitude toward what he considers the “spirit” o f Christianity, now

interpreted n o t i n contrast t o the Greeks but i n c o n t r a s t t o Jesus’ own reclusiveness (“Render therefore u n t o Caesar the things which are Caesar’s . . . ”) as t r u e community, “the Kingdom o f God.” The new ingredient, which Hegel had hardly talked about a t all i n his earlier essays, is love. Love is primarily a feeling, thefeeling of unity.

Lack of unity now becomes the culprit, the source of Hegel's irritation—with the Jews for alienating themselves both from God and from other men, with Jesus and early Christianity for separating themselves from the r e s t of society, with Kant for distinguishing and setting against one another allegedly different faculties o f the human soul—in particular duty and a sense o f law against love and simple “inclinations.” Hegel’s task now becomes the unification o f such separations (Entfremdungen); a few years later, he will define philosophy itself as just this, i n his essay on the “Difference between Fichte’s and Schelling’s System o f Philosophy” (1801). And the vehicle he chooses for this task is the all-important but ill-defined notion of “Spirit” (Geist), which is mentioned o n virtually every page o f the essay. There is “hum a n spirit,” “ t h e spirit o f God,” “spirit i n nature,” “the spirit o f Abra-

ham,” “the spirit of Jesus,” and “the Jewish spirit.” Sometimes “spirit” means “mind,” sometimes “feeling,” often a motive force or a project

for action. B u t ın virtually every case, “spirit” means something like

“inner unity,” and this will remain its primary meaning through the writing o f the Phenomenology (and later too.) The essay begins with another attack o n the Jews, n o t because o f their “positive” preferences but because of their demand for discord. I n their view o f God, they conceived o f a supreme Being, Master o f the world, over and above men, who thereby became God’s slaves. T h e story o f N o a h has special significance for H e g e l (much as the Abra-

ham story would take on special significance for Kierkegaard, years later); i t represented i n a single incident the absolute domination o f God over man, even including God’s willingness to destroy—or threaten

destroy—everyone and everything i f we refused t o submit t o his will. Moreover, Hegel says, the story of the flood expresses quite clearly to

the antagonistic attitude o f the Jews toward nature, as a n alien force, and Abraham expressed the same alienation o f m a n from nature when

he left his homeland of Chaldea, left his “natural” relationships, and refused, i n his wanderings, to stop a n d settle the land, m a k i n g h i m -

self a t one with 1.9! “The whole world Abraham regarded as simply his opposite,” and the family that he founded similarly saw themselves separated from the r e s t o f the world as “the chosen people.” 91. Ibid. 185-87.

Younger Hegel

143

N o w once again, i t is important to disarm a certain k i n d o f objec-

tion, that Hegel is here expressing only dislike for the Jews and that such comments are better ignored than quoted and considered. But what Hegel is after here is rather the original structure of the whole Judaeo-Christian tradition, which is, he says, t o separate and pit oneself against others. I n Judaism, the “others” include a transcendent God who rules over us, Nature, which is seen as an “alien being,” and the other societies o f the w o r l d , w h o are considered enemies or, at most, temporary allies. B u t the “master-slave” imagery o f the Hebrew

God and his people is n o t unique t o Judaism; Hegel finds i t i n Kant too, and the philosopher who only a few years ago was considered his paradigm now becomes subject t o the same abuse; . . . between the Shaman o f the Tungus, the European prelate who rules the c h u r c h a n d state, the Voguls a n d the Puritans, o n the one h a n d , a n d t h e m a n w h o l i s t e n s t o h i s o w n commands o f duty, o n t h e

other, the difference is n o t that the latter is free, b u t that the former have their l o r d outside themselves, while the latter carries his lord i n himself, yet at the same time is his o w n slave. F o r the particular— impulses, inclinations, pathological love, sensuous experience, o r w h a t e v e r else i t i s called—the u n i v e r s a l i s n e c e s s a r i l y a n d a l w a y s something

alien

a n d objective.

One phrase here deserves our special attention, “pathological love.” I n his Foundations o f the Metaphysics o fMorals ( 1 7 8 5 ) , K a n t h a d distin-

guished the emotion o f love, which he called “pathological” (from “pathos’—teeling, b u t w i t h the same negative connotations), from the

love commanded by the Scriptures, “to love thy neighbor” and so on.

Emotions cannot be commanded, Kant insisted; rational principles can be. B u t love for K a n t comes d o w n t o universal respect, o u t o f duty,

the very antithesis o f what Hegel means by the word. Influenced by Herder and the early romantics, Hegel insists that the love commanded i n Christianity is indeed a feeling, but n o t a t all a matter of duty. Indeed, what Hegel objects t o i n Kant is the very basis of the distinction K a n t is m a k i n g here, between morality, duty, reason, a n d law o n the one side, a n d emotions, feelings, inclinations, a n d love i n

particular on the other. According t o Hegel, a t this particularly romantic juncture i n his career, love conquers all, heals all wounds, 1s the one a n d only solution t o the tragic Kantian-Christian severance o f the human being into warring aspects—feeling against intellect,

knowledge against faith, reason against inclination, personal independence against community spirit. What therefore emerges from this essay is a conception o f “the whole 92. I n d . 211. T h e “master-slave” imagery h e r e will play a crucial r o l e i n t h e Phenomenology, c h a p .

4, “ S e l f - C o n s c i o u s n e s s ” ) .

93. Trans. Lewis White Beck ( N e w York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953).

144

Setting the Stage

human being,” who transcends these splits i n his or her personality and acts “ i n accordance with the law” as well as “for the sake of the law,” without separating these as Kant had done. Rules and obligations conflict, Hegel points o u t , parroting an already familiar objection t o Kant’s rule-bound moral theory, but love “is the one living spirit which acts and restricts itself i n accordance with the whole of a given situation, then and only then . . . the mass of absolute and incompatible virtues vanishes.”?* Thus Jesus is distinguished from Kant i n a radical way, precisely the antithesis o f the identity Hegel suggested between t h e m i n 1795. Jesus taught us to act “ i n the spirit o f the laws,” n o t o u t o f “respect for d u t y . ” Hegel here suggests some o f the criti-

cisms of Kant’s ethics—which we shall pick up again much later—that universal laws d o not tell us how they are t o be applied and so are effectively without c o n t e n t , ” as well as the contradiction between

various laws and the intolerable antagonism between doing one’s duty (against inclination) and the desire, o u t of inclination, o u t o f love, t o do what (it happens) one ought t o do. One might say that Hegel is precociously defending what a few years ago was called “situation ethics,” the idea that rules were often confusing a n d sometimes got i n

the way and so i t is better t o do what one “feels is right i n the particular situation.” Luckily, although Hegel continued his criticisms of Kant into his later philosophy, he saw right away that “love” and “situation ethics” were simply a way o f hiding a problem rather than solving it. The Phenomenology has relatively little t o say about “love.” Romantic soft-headedness aside, Hegels view here has its solid

foundations i n the Greek view o f virtue. For Aristotle, for example, virtue was a question o f character, a matter o f motivation. A man who did his duty without wanting t o do it, who was “just doing his duty,” would n o t be considered virtuous. So t o o , Hegel points o u t , the man who acts o u t o f fear o f punishment is n o t a good man. Punishment, even i f necessary i n a society, also serves to promote disunity. A tres-

passer, once punished, either sees himself i n fear o f the law (and thus alien t o it) or suffers from what Hegel calls “bad conscience,” which is tantamount t o a war within himself.” What Hegel is driving a t here, 94. Early Theo. Mss., p . 245.

95. Ibid. 210. 96. Ibid. 214ff. 97. The notion o f “bad conscience” introduces a split that will be one of the motiv a t i n g themes o f Hegel’s l a t e r w o r k as well: “Such a conscience, as a consciousness o f self i n opposition to self, always presupposes a n ideal over against a reality which fails t o correspond with the ideal, and the ideal is i n man, a consciousness o f his o w n whole n a t u r e . . . ” (241). I t i s t h i s “ c o n t r a d i c t i o n ” between o u r ideals a n d t h e w a y w e actually see o u r s e l v e s which will m o t i v a t e many o f t h e transitions i n t h e Phenomenology, a n d Hegel's argument here, quite t h e c o n t r a r y o f his s u p p o s e d l o v e o f contradiction, is t h a t s u c h c o n t r a d i c t i o n s a r e intolerable and ought t o be eliminated.

145

Younger Hegel

as i n his earlier essays, is the need for a sense o f community, founded

on fellow feeling and friendship, i n which i t is the sheer ideal of unity that motivates o u r actions, whether o r n o t one calls this “love.”

Here too Hegel introduces a particularly existentialist notion of “fate” into his discussion; whatever happens t o a conscious being, he argues, is its o w n responsibility. This is j u s t as t r u e o f a people as i t is o f a

single individual. Unforeseen events occur, of course, but always either as a result o f one’s own actions, o r with a t least some degree o f cooperation, or, i n any case, w i t h i n a n interpretation which is one’s own.

Thus the Jews made taxation by Rome their own fate, Hegel says, by r e f u s i n g to fight to t h e d e a t h for freedom. I t is a n extreme view, r e m -

iniscent o f Jean-Paul Sartre’s harsh declaration during World War I I that “there are n o innocent victims i n war” B u t for those who still think of Hegel as the ultimate philosopher of resignation and the s t a t u s quo (“the real is rational . . . "etc.), these passages are worth reconsidering, and their “spirit” is equally evident i n the later forms of the Phenomenology as well98 I t is with this conception of fate i n the background that Hegel here explicitly blames Jesus for the failure o f Christianity (which is n o t yet

necessarily “its fate”). Jesus “visualized the world as i t was t o be,” but circumstances weren't ready for what he preached; love presupposes c o m m o n needs a n d shared interests, as well as a shared faith, b u t “faith can only u n i f y a group i f the g r o u p sets a n actual world over

and against itself and sunders itself from 1t.”%° But this i n itself makes universal love impossible, and so the sectionalized and fragmented cults of early Christianity were already antithetical t o Jesus’ intentions. But Jesus, instead o f fighting these conditions, withdrew from them, as a “ b e a u t i f u l soul.” 1 9 0 , e withdraws himself therefrom. . . to I f any side o f h i m is t o u c h e d h

renounce his r e l a t i o n s h i p s i n

this way is to abstract

from himself, b u t

this process has n o fixed limits . . . his o w n will, his free choice . . . a

fate which he himself has consciously wrought . . . there is nothing i n h i m w h i c h c o u l d n o t b e a t t a c k e d a n d sacrificed. . . . l i k e a sensitive

plant, h e withdraws i n t o himself w h e n touched. Rather t h a n make life his enemy, r a t h e r t h a n rouse a fate against himself, h e flies from

life. 1 0 !

Thus Jesus’ celebrated “sensitivity” and “unearthliness,” i n Hegel's critical secular vision, is more a k i n to what Sartre would call mauvaise 98. Early Theo. Mss., 228ft.

99. Ibid. 287. 100. Ibid. 235. The expression “beautiful soul” comes from Schiller. Hegel employs it i n the last section o f Phenomenology, chap. 6, “Spirit.” The identity o f Jesus as “the b e a u t i f u l s o u l ” is n o t m a d e explicit there, b u t is m o r e plausible as a n i n t e r p r e t a t i o n

than the usual references 101. Ibid. 235-36.

to

Novalis and Romanticism.

Setting the Stage

146

foi (bad faith) o r like Camus’s Clamence i n The Fall, “Judge not, that

ye be n o t judged” (Matthew vii.1). I t is i n this

c o n t e x t too

that Hegel

considers the Christian virtue o f “forgiveness,” n o t as a moral v i r t u e

b u t rather as a n attempt to p u t oneself “above” the law, o r to ignore i t , b u t i n any case to p u t oneself outside o f i t , thus alienating oneself

trom the body of society i n general. Thus, i n the Phenomenology, Hegel will say, T h e “beautiful soul,” lacking a n actual existence [that is, participa-

tion in the life o f society] entangled i n the contradiction between its pure self and the necessity o f that self to externalize itself and change i t s e l f i n t o a n actual e x i s t e n c e . . . t h i s b e a u t i f u l s o u l wastes i t s e l f i n

'”? yearning and pines away i n consumption.

B u t despite this attack once again o n Jesus, Hegel holds o u t the

hope that the “fate” o f Christianity is yet t o be determined, and its “Spirit” yet t o be realized. I n this essay, Hegel holds o u t the singular ideal of “love” as the message of Christianity and the “spirit” o f Jesus’ teachings. But what “love” means is just the feeling of unity, I s there a n idea more b e a u t i f u l t h a n that o f a Volk o f m e n related to one another by love?

The word “love” drops out, but the word “spirit” is ready t o take its place. And even i n this essay, this crucial t e r m 1s beginning t o take on the pantheistic, organic, Bildung image that defines the Phenomenology: T o the

spirit, to life, n o t h i n g is given. What i t has acquired, that i t

has i t s e l f become; its a c q u i s i t i o n has so far passed over i n t o i t t h a t n o w a modification o f itself, is its l i f e . ! 3

A n d i t will be spirit, n o longer love, that is “ a unification o f life, i t

presupposes division, a development of life, a developed manysidedness of life.” 1 ° I t might be worth pointing o u t too that Schelling had just published a book, The Worldsoul as a Hypothesis for Physics (1798), i n which “self-activity” rules the world. Here as i n his later work Hegel begins to point o u t that everything i n o u r lives, even nature, turns o u t to be spiritual, which is not yet presented as a n ontological claim

but rather as the anthropological view that everything, including biology and the necessities o f life, are incorporated by a Volk into their c u l t u r e , i n t o t h e i r c o m m o n g r o u n d for mutual identity a n d unity. I t

102. Phenomenology 668. 1 0 3 . E a r l y Theo. M s s . , p . 2 9 4 . 104. Ibid. 278. B u t one might point o u t the quaint remark i n the Preface of the disporting w i t h i t s e l f ” (1 19).

Phenomenology, a b o u t “ l o v e

Younger Hegel

147

is a n innocent, plausible, a n d attractive thesis, a n d I would l i k e to

t h i n k that H e g e l retained i t , as the motive b e h i n d his rather “unbe-

lievable” ontological thesis that “the universe is posited by a Spirit whose essence is rational necessity” that he saddles himself with later

on.!03

The Professional Years: 1801-1806 Knowledge o f the I d e a o f the absolute ethical o r d e r [Sittlichkeit] de-

pends entirely o n the establishment o f perfect adequacy between i n t u i t i o n a n d concept, b e c a u s e t h e I d e a i t s e l f i s n o t h i n g o t h e r t h a n

the identity o f the two.—System der Sittlichkeit ( 1 8 0 2 - 0 3 ) !

The conclusion that emerges from all o f the early essays, none of them published until this century, is Hegel's fondness for the Volk, his celebration o f community life o r Siuttlichkeit. His ideal is the ideal o f unity, not only within small groups of people but, ultimately, it is hoped, within all humanity, as a single human “spirit.” “The divine is i n everyone,” h e declares i n his “Spirit o f Christianity,” 7 a n d Jesus is n o one i n particular. B u t these heretical views were unthinkable for a n o longer young and n o t spectacularly bright man, now thirty, who was

looking for his first university position. Consequently, his vision is compromised, his positions qualified, and his style becomes—abominable. I n 1800 he begins a revision of the Positivity-essay, but the old style is replaced by a terse, academic abstraction.!%® H e distinguishes between “concrete” a n d “abstract” h u m a n nature, a n d thus tries to

resolve his life-long tension between particular Volk-identity and a n international conception of humanity. But the old language of “natural religion” a n d “subjectivity” will n o longer d o the j o b , a n d even as

Hegel rails against “understanding and r e a s o n ” ! and the “chatter” and “self-righteousness” o f the Enlightenment, he already s t a r t s t o 105. Taylor, Hegel, p. 538. Taylor’ attitude toward Hegel is curiously ambivalent i n this way precisely because he is so taken with the later ontology, which he finds n o t only “unbelievable” but also “quite dead,” while he evidently admires Hegel primarily for his sense o f Sittlichkeit and community. Odd, then, that both o f his books should all but ignore the early writings and place so much emphasis o n the Logic. Cf. Plant, Hegel o n t h e s a m e topics; a l s o Schmidt, “Recent Hegel L i t e r a t u r e . ” 106. H e g e l , System der Sittlichkeit, trans. H S . H a r r i s a n d T . M . Knox, together w i t h

his First Philosophy of Spirit of 1803/04 (Albany: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1979), pp. 99-100. 107. P. 265. 108. “ T h e l i v i n g n a t u r e o f m a n is always o t h e r t h a n the concept o f t h e same, a n d hence CLT

what

for t h e c o n c e p t i s a b a r e modification,

(169).

109. Ibid. 172.

a

pure a c c i d e n t , becomes a

necessity

148

Setting the Stage

suspect that this is no longer his view, and the revision breaks off midsentence.!!9

I n the same year, Hegel writes a “fragment o f a system,”’!!! one o f those piles of paper found by scholars which are stretched beyond all credibility t o provide evidence for some grand change o f plan. The several pages are concerned with the Schellingian-Romantic problem about reconciling the finite with the infinite, man and God; and Hegel a t this point i n his career still thinks that religion i n some sense m i g h t serve this vital role. B u t this faith i n feeling was a t most a residu u m o f last year’s thoughts, for w i t h his entry into the profession o f

philosophy, professionalism takes top priority. His honest enthusiasm gives way t o obscure and impersonal discussions of the “finite and the infinite” and “the union o f opposites,” and his interests, though stiil founded o n some o f the same cultural and religious themes, become

far more concerned with intra-professional polemics than the cultural commitment and curiosity of his earlier writings.!!2 I n the “fragment,” Hegel argues that “philosophy has t o stop short of religion,” but i n his first published work—the Differenz-essay of 1801—he declared that philosophy, n o t religion, was the highest hu!!3 man endeavor, the only way t o catch “the infinite i n a system.” Schelling had just secured him his first position a t the University of Jena (as a n unpaid lecturer o r Privatdozent) and Hegel was ready t o

prove himself. Nothing less than “the Absolute” would do.!!* Among Hegel's publications i n the n e x t five years, three stand o u t as exemplary. First is the Differenz-essay o f the summer o f 1801, which we have already discussed (at the end o f Chapter 2). Second is the

long and pretentious essay “Faith and Knowledge,” which he wrote 110. The criticism of the Enlightenment continues through the Phenomenology, much modified (541ff). What Hegel does n o t ever give u p is his criticism o f the Enlightenment as “self-certain” a n d dogmatic, particularly i n its opposition to religion.

111. I n Knox, pp. 309-19. 112. Harris, more sympathetically, explains the change in Hegel's ambitions (as “German Machiavelli” and neo-Platonic philosopher-King) by the advent o f Napoleon and the strengthening of the independent German states under him. But then, Harris tells us, “at Jena he began o n quite a new path toward the sunlight, n o t o f Plato’ city b u t o f the I d e a ” (477). O n e w o u l d accept that more readily i f Hegel h a d n o t spent so

much o f his time i n the following years so obviously trying t o establish his professional credentials, d e f e n d i n g his allies, a n d attacking Schelling’s enemies. I n d e e d , however m u c h “ t h e I d e a ” m i g h t b e a n abstract encapsulation o f his earlier interests, I w o u l d

argue that its primary function throughout Hegel's career 1s t o deaden his thinking and render i t “cold” i n precisely the same way he earlier criticized the more “bookish” En-

lightenment thinkers. A n d this is the same “cold march of necessity” that Hegel urges o n us i n the Phenomenology, which happily, i n that book anyway, he neglects i n his own “ f e r m e n t o f enthusiasm” (Phenomenology, 7). 113. Harris, p . 408.

114. O n Hegel’s ambitions, sec Kaufmann, p. 108ff. I t is worth keeping i n mind that, i n 1804, Schelling had already published a half dozen books and achieved recognition as one o f the leading philosophers i n Germany.

149

Younger Hegel

in mid-1802, i n which his philosophical ambitions and intentions are first straightforwardly (which is n o t t o say “clearly”) stated. Third, there is the almost unreadable essay “Natural Law,” written i n late 1802, early 1803. All o f these were published i n the CriticalJournal of Philosophy which Hegel co-edited with Schelling, and n o t surprisingly Schelling emerges as the paragon of philosophical accomplishment. “Faith and Knowledge” is largely devoted t o the task of analyzing the philosophical systems (or non-systems) o f Kant, Jacobi, and Fichte and showing that, o n the one hand, they collectively represent the

tullest realization so far of the ideas implicit i n post-Retormation Germ a n culture and, o n the o t h e r hand, that all three fail to fulfill the

primary aim o f philosophy—which is t o demonstrate the unity, the necessary connectedness, of human experience,!!> Although the title indicates a conflict and synthesis of “faith and knowledge,” the actual content o f the essay reveals a n attempt to p u t together the religious

sensibilities o f Protestantism with the merely empirical and “eudaimonistic” (secular) ambitions o f the Enlightenment under the clumsy guise of the formidable terminology o f “the infinite and the finite.” I n fact, Hegel rejects both Protestantism and Enlightenment, the first because o f its unworldliness, the second because o f its “vanity” a n d

“emptiness” (“a hubbub o f vanity without a firm core”). Protestantism has renounced the world and finds itself longing after an impossible ideal (“infinity”): Protestantism d o e s n o t a d m i t a communion sciousness of the

divine

t h a t consists

in

with God and a con-

t h e s a t u r a t i n g objectivity o f

a cult a n d i n w h i c h this n a t u r e a n d this universe are enjoyed i n the present a n d seen in a sight t h a t is i n itself clear. Instead i t makes communion with God a n d consciousness o f the divine into some-

thing inward that maintains its fixed form o f inwardness; i t makes t h e m i n t o a y e a r n i n g for a b e y o n d a n d a f u t u r e . ! ’ ®

Enlightenment, o n the other hand, rejects the ideal o f “infinity” and

satisfies itself with the world. Its conception o f life is limited t o questions of happiness, and its conception of knowledge is limited t o the merely empirical. Reason becomes mainly a question o f mechanical calculation and has n o sense o f “ a n incognizable God beyond the

boundary stakes o f Reason.” Both o f these discussions get picked up again i n the Phenomenology, the first as “the Unhappy Consciousness” of chapter 4 and Enlightenment vanity as the “Self-alienated Spirit o f Culture” i n chapter 6. But the point o f this essay is, ultimately, t o 115. Glauben und Wissen, “Faith and Knowledge,” was originally published i n Schell i n g and Hegel's Critical Journal of Philosophy, vol. 2, no. 1, i n July 1802. Trans. H.S.

Harris and Walter Cerf (Albany: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1977). This quote, p. 56. 116. Ibid. esp. p. 148.

150

Setting the Stage

show how the three major philosophies of the moment,—Kant’s, Jacobi’s, and Fichte’s,—derive their defects from precisely the same opposition between Protestantism and its “other-worldly yearning” and Enlightenment with its limited “this-worldly” horizons; The fundamental principle common

to

the philosophies o f Kant,

Jacobi a n d Fichte, is, then, the absoluteness o f finitude and, resulting from i t , the absolute antithesis o f finitude a n d infinity, reality and ideality, the sensuous and the supersensuous, and the beyondness o f what i s r e a l l y r e a l a n d a b s o l u t e . W i t h i n t h i s c o m m o n g r o u n d , h o w -

ever, these philosophies form antitheses a m o n g themselves, exhausting

the totality ofpossible forms of this principle.''”

“Faith and Knowledge” goes beyond the Differenz-essay i n Hegel's first attempts t o set u p a place for himself i n philosophy, not just as a

disciple o f Schelling (who is hardly mentioned ın this essay) but as an accomplished philosophical critic i n his own right. I t also represents his first full-length attempt to come to grips w i t h the history o f philosophy i n a technical way, anticipating some o f the arguments against

empiricism and the “metaphysics o f subjectivity” that will occupy key positions i n the Phenomenology. I t is here too that he first comes t o grips with Kant’s philosophy as a whole, whereas before he had drawn from i t as he needed certain principles, which he had t o o often accepted uncritically or criticized without any effort t o see how they fit into the Kantian corpus as a whole. H e also characterizes these three philosophies as the end o f “the formative process o f culture,” bringing t o its ultimate stage that schizoid way o f thinking (between “finite” and “infinite,” between “subjective” and “objective”) which has been implicit i n the whole o f the history o f philosophy.!!®* Thus Hegel has begun t o see the history of philosophy as a progression o f mcreasingly developed positions, and though i t is n o t yet evident here, he has already set up for himself—and n o t for Schelling—the possibility o f the ultimate culmination and synthesis. I n terms o f the Phenomenology, “ F a i t h a n d Knowledge” already pre-

figures, though i n a purely negative way, the development of a series v i e w o f the empiricist i n the Introduction and first chapters (Locke is quoted i n “Faith and Knowledge” i n much the same t e r m s that the Introduction t o the Phenomenology begins)!!? t o the more developed philosophy o f Kant (in chapter 3) and Fichte (in chapter 4). Jacobi is dropped o u t of the picture, for the familiar reasons (repeated by Hegel i n almost o f philosophical forms from the “finite” (that 1s, limited)

117. I b i d . 62. 118. I b i d . 189f. 119. I b i d . 6 3 ; Phenomenology, 7 3 - 8 9 .

Younger Hegel

151

identical form i n the Differenz-essay, i n “Faith and Knowledge,” and i n t h e P r e f a c e t o t h e Phenomenology), namely, t h a t h i s p h i l o s o p h y o f

the incomprehensibility o f the infinite and his appeal ings” leave us nothing t o say.

to

“warm teel-

I n “ F a i t h a n d Knowledge” too, Hegel makes i t clear that o r d i n a r y

experience is inferior and intrinsically unsatisfying. I t 1s the infinite that is “really real,” but n o t c u t oft from the finite, from ordinary experience, which is what we find i n Kant, Jacobi, a n d Fichte, w h o

are the “totality of possible forms” o f philosophy, so conceived. I t is only by appreciating the over-all scheme o f things, Hegel tells us, that individual life a n d mortality can m a k e any sense to us. So i t is h e r e

that Hegel begins t o develop his thesis—so central t o the Phenomenology—that “the infinite is immanent” and that “the Eternal Idea” (which is n o more attractive o r clear a concept here than i t becomes i n his

later philosophy) is expressed i n the world as a logical sequence of changes, that thought is n o t confined t o the “subject” but defines the “object” of experience as well. Thought, he writes, is the spring o f eternal movement, the spring o f that finitude which is infinite, because i t eternally nullifies itself. Out o f this nothing and pure night o f infinity, as out o f the s e c r e t abyss that is its birthplace, the t r u t h lifts i t s e l f upward.'%¢

The “Natural Law” essay might well be paired with the unpublished and incomplete essay on “the German Constitution,” which Hegel had stopped w r i t i n g a few months earlier.!?! B u t the focus o f the “Natural L a w ” essay is n o t primarily political; indeed i t is more o f a

social and moral concern, derived from Hegel's recent reading o f Fichte’s essay o n the same subject which i n t u r n was prompted by

Kant.!?? Indeed Schelling had developed a theory on the subject too,'? and much of the opacity o f Hegel's essay might be attributed (as i n all o f these essays) to the fact that h e was writing, i n effect, for a small

closed group o f scholars, all o f whom could be assumed t o know the jargon and the concerns of each other’s works. But the main point can be stated clearly enough: Kant had insisted on the rational a u t o n omy of every individual, his o r her ability and right t o a c t according to the dictates o f the m o r a l law “within.” B u t o n this view, all external

authority (or “heteronomy” i n the local jargon) was illegitimate or, a t 120. “Faith a n d Knowledge,” p. 190. 121. The essay is reprinted i n Friedrich, The Philosophy of Hegel, pp. 527ff., and i n T . M . K n o x , Hegel's Political Writings ( O x f o r d , 1964). 122. Fichte, Grundlage des Naturrechts (Jena, 1796, 1797); K a n t , Metaphysik der Sitten ( F r a n k f u r t , 1 7 9 7 ) . H e g e l ' s o w n essay o n “ N a t u r a l L a w ” i s translated b y T . M . K n o x

(Philadelphia: Univ. o f Pennsylvania Press, 1975). 123. Schelling, N e u e D e d u k t i o n d e r N a t u r r e c h i s (1796).

152

Setting the Stage

least, difficult t o reconcile with the natural right o f autonomy.'?* How then, could states govern? How could there be a legitimate “external authority”? This had become one of the leading questions of the Enlightenment, a n d its answer, condensed to a phrase, was to be found

i n “natural law.” “Natural law” was the moral law, the authority o f reason, writ large. I n the ideal state, i t was rational law writ down as a constitution, which

thereby became n o t an external authority as such but an external expression o f that same faculty o f practical reason that could be found i n the will o f every (rational) person. B u t the question now repeats

itself; i f i t is imposed from the “outside” —even i f i t is i n fact the same rule o f law t h a t can b e f o u n d o n t h e “inside”—is i t not still illegitimate,

for the question of legitimacy (which is the same as “natural”)

1s n o t a question o f content so m u c h as a question o f source. Where

does the “natural law” come from? One traditional answer t o this question, which was flatly rejected by all of the German thinkers, was “the social contract.” Everyone agreed t o obey the laws o f the state, according t o this familiar theory (in Hobbes, Locke, a n d Rousseau, for instance) a n d b y virtue o f their agreement, the laws imposed from the outside were thereby their own.

Hegel rejects this—though more clearly i n the Phenomenology—not only on the familiar grounds that there was i n fact no “original” cont r a c t b u t o n the philosophically more powerful grounds that the “social contract” theory presupposes a n utter absurdity—that there could

have been fully formed, intelligent, and morally reflective human beings before the advent o f society—which the social c o n t r a c t supposedly established. Natural law, therefore, could n o t be common agreem e n t before the fact; natural law h a d to be itself a n intrinsic p a r t o f

the development both o f individual human beings and society as a whole. I t is for this reason that the “Natural Law” essay dwells considerably on one of Hegel's most important concepts—the concept of Sittlichkeit. We have m e t this w o r d before. Hegel was lecturing o n his “system o f Sittlichkeit” to his students as h e was writing t h e essay, a n d

i t 1s t o become central t o the Phenomenology and the later Philosophy of Right as well. I t is, as we have introduced it already, the conception of “social existence” or what is sometimes called “ethical substance.” I t is that complex o f customs, rituals, rules, and practices that make u p a society a n d make each one o f us a part o f society. I t is not, as social

of

124. A r e c e n t discussion o f this problem—still very much i n the enlightenment frame mind—is Jurgen Habermas, Legitimation Crises, t r a n s . T h o m a s M c C a r t h y from Legit-

imationsprobleme I m Spatkapitalismus (Boston: Beacon Press, 1975).

Younger Hegel

153

contract theory suggests, a n “external” package o f laws that we voluntarily adopt, as i f we were adult visitors i n some foreign land. I t is

that set of behaviors through which we define ourselves, through which we learn what “morality” is and what is right and wrong. A n d t o distinguish between o u r o w n i n d i v i d u a l autonomy, o n the one side, a n d

the set of practices of our society, on the other, is a prelude t o conceptual disaster. Yet this is just what such theories as the social c o n t r a c t theory d o t o us, a n d the result is a n emasculated picture o f “ t h e law” o n the one h a n d , a n d ourselves—as creatures without a culture—on t h e other.

But Kant t o o falls into this trap. I n his distinction between a u t o n omy and heteronomy he too introduces this fatal distinction between our Selves (that is, as rational moral agents) and the social fabric and customs i n which we were raised, which naturally become o u r “inclinations”—our emotions, moods, a n d desires. T h e concept o f Sittlich-

keit, therefore, is directly aimed against Kant’s theory o f morality as

well. Kant supposed that a moral law was universally valid, as a matter of rational principle alone, apart from any particular culture and practices. B u t this severs the all-important connection between o u r sense o f morals a n d o u r sense o f belonging t o a society, a n d once this is done we seem trapped i n the Rousseauan feeling (not unfamiliar

among American undergraduates these days) that we are corrupted b y o u r society a n d “indoctrinated” w i t h its laws, instead o f created

through and by that society and those laws. Sittlichkeit, for Hegel, summarizes the “ n a t u r a l ” synthesis o f o u r moral sense and o u r social sense. Morality, properly understood, 1s not a matter o f rational p r i n ciples primarily (though that too, o f course) b u t a m a t t e r o f social

practices and “good upbringing.” I n this, as we shall argue later i n our discussion o f “Hegel's Ethics” i n the Phenomenology, Hegel becomes quite close t o Aristotle. Indeed, the notion o f Sittlichkeit, throughout Hegel's works, 1s always looking back t o the Greeks and the polis, tor i t 1s there, n o t i n m o d e r n Christian state-less Germany,

that the t r u e sense o f “natural law,” the unity of individuality and citizenship, is t o be found.

154

Setting the Stage

I t is time t o move on t o the Phenomenology itself. Hegel is already thirtyfive years old, and we have already covered almost 200 pages i n anticıpation. I n the following chapter, however, there will be still more by way of anticipation, as we first introduce the book itself, then the subject m a t t e r and purpose o f the book, and finally, its formidable s t r u c t u r e — o r lack o f it—which usually goes by the name “dialectic.”

Chapter Four (a)

The Phenomenology o f Spirit The Book Jos A n t . Goebhardt’s B o o k s t o r e , Bamberg a n d Würzburg, has p u b lished a n d s e n t t o a l l good bookstores: G . W . F. Hegel's System o f Science.

Volume One, containing The Phenomenology of the Spirit. Large Octavo.

1807. Price: 6 fl. This v o l u m e deals with the becoming o f knowledge. T h e phenomenol-

spirit i s

well as the knowledge. I t considers the preparation for science from a point o f view, which makes i t a new,

ogy o f the

t o r e p l a c e psychological e x p l a n a t i o n s as

more abstract d i s c u s s i o n s o f

t h e foundation o f

a n interesting, a n d t h e first science o f philosophy. I t includes t h e varıo u s forms o f the spirit as stations o n t h e w a y o n w h i c h i t becomes p u r e

knowledge o r absolute spirit. I n the main parts o f this science, which i n t u r n a r e s u b d i v i d e d further, c o n s i d e r a t i o n is g i v e n t o consciousness,

self-consciousness, observing and acting reason, the spirit itself as ethical, educated, a n d moral spirit, and finally as religious in its different forms. T h e wealth o f t h e appearances o f t h e s p i r i t , w h i c h a t first g l a n c e

seems chaotic, 1s brought i n t o a scientific o r d e r w h i c h p r e s e n t s t h e m a c c o r d i n g t o t h e i r necessity i n w h i c h t h e i m p e r f e c t ones dissolve a n d pass o v e r i n t o h i g h e r ones which constitute t h e i r n e x t t r u t h . T h e i r final

t r u t h they find a t first i n r e l i g i o n , t h e n i n science as t h e r e s u l t o f t h e

whole.

I n t h e preface t h e

author

explains himself about

w h a t seems to

him

t h e n e e d o f p h i l o s o p h y i n its p r e s e n t state; also about t h e presumption

and mischief o f the philosophic formulas that are currently degrading philosophy, a n d about what i s a l t o g e t h e r c r u c i a l ın i t a n d its study. A second volume will contain t h e s y s t e m o f Logic as s p e c u l a t i v e philos-

ophy, and o f the other two parts o f philosophy, the sciences o f nature

and the spirit. —Hegel's o w n description o f the Phenomenology (Selbstanzeigen) (1807)

The Phenomenology was conceived and written i n the years 1804-06, while Hegel was teaching as a Privatdozent (an instructor, the lowest a c a d e m i c r a n k , p a i d b y s t u d e n t fees o n l y ) a n d , i n 1 8 0 5 , as Ausseror-

dentlicher professor (roughly,

assistant

professor)

at

the University o f

Jena. T h e actual appearance o f the b o o k was preceded by a n u m b e r

155

156

Setting the Stage

o f very different announcements, a n d i t seems Hegel was obviously uncertain himself, well i n t o 1806, what his first great book was sup-

posed t o be. And indeed, i t was intended t o be a great book. Walter Kaufmann rightly comments that, a t the age of thirty-six, when his younger friend Schelling had already become internationally renowned and had been publishing a book a year for several years, nothing less than a great book, a monumental effort, would bring Hegel o u t from under Schelling’s shadow—particularly i n his own estimate.! And yet, with all this ambition—or i n part because of it— Hegel did n o t know what he was trying t o do. T h e book was written hastily, i n a frenzy, w i t h little rewriting a n d

little caution. With the book less than half finished by mid-year 1806, Hegel had t o m e e t an October 18th deadline. (One of his friends had personally guaranteed delivery by that date t o satisfy Hegel's reluctant publisher.) I n fact, though he finished i n time, he missed the date, due t o extraordinary circumstances. Napoleon invaded the city too

o n the 14th. H a l f o f the manuscript was already i n the mail, which

caused Hegel no little worry. The other half stayed i n his pocket, until the 10th, when he anxiously mailed i t off t o Bamberg.? Struggling t o m e e t his deadline, overburdened with a wide variety o f university courses, while Germany was i n the middle o f the Napo-

leonic wars, Hegel did n o t have the opportunity t o quietly meditate, as Kant had done for years, about the exact aims or intentions of his book. (Thus the belligerent opening of the Pretace, i n which he tells us that i t would be “inappropriate” t o tell us what these are: i n fact, he didn’t know.) H e knew that he wanted t o produce his own system. He knew that its introduction would have t o establish “the absolute” unity of experience, a t which point he could begin his study of logic and metaphysics—the subject matter o f the book. B u t h e had n o detinite plan h o w t o get there. T h e result was a slapdash manuscript,

sometimes bordering on incoherence (though the locus of the incoherence is disputed by the scholars).?> A n d the whole book, i n effect,

became nothing but the introduction, the establishment o f “the Ab1. K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 129.

2. One m i g h t a d d t o the list o f Hegel's pressures the fact that he fathered an illegitimate child, probably somewhere i n the early chapters. T h e boy was born Feb. 5,

1807, but presumably even a philosophy professor would have recognized the—er,— p r o b l e m , a good several m o n t h s before. K a u f m a n n goes i n t o this i n some detail ( p p .

112-14). 3. Theodore Haering and Otto Poggeler have argued that the book falls apart when i t becomes historical, a t the beginning o f chapter 6 (“Spirit”). Charles Taylor thinks i t begins t o disintegrate by the close o f chapter 3 (“Force and the Understandmg”).

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

157

solute.” The intended subject matter, logic and metaphysics, would have t o wait for another time. Even when i t was published, the Phenomenology was still to be the

introduction t o a larger system o f “speculative philosophy,” beginning with logic. Hegel had been lecturing t o his students on logic and metaphysics—in the new post-Kantian “idealist” fashion, since 1801, as well as the “philosophy o f nature” (Schelling’s own speciality) a hodge-

podge subject called “the philosophy of spirit,”* which we today would call “the social and behavioral sciences” (psychology, sociology, anthropology, political science) and some o f the “humanities” (history o f art, religion, the history o f philosophy). T h e “system,” in three parts,

was already i n shape before the completion o f the Phenomenology and

would remain frozen i n that form, as “Hegel's system,” through several publications o f The Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences (the first i n 1817) a n d i n his lectures until his death in 1831.5 T h e threep a r t structure o f the “system,” however, 1s only vaguely discernible i n the structure o f the Phenomenology itself. A n d i n any case, the Phenomenology certainly stands alone, without the later w o r k , as one o f the

towering achievements o f philosophy.® Until early 1806, w h e n the book was still intended to be a book o n

logic and metaphysics, “phenomenology” was only a preliminary exercise, an introduction. The word did n o t appear i n the title until 4. Hegel's first manuscript o n the subject, i n 1 8 0 3 - 4 , was primarily a treatise o n

the psychology o f work and the family, the practical dynamics of everyday life and the development of language. (It is translated into English by H.S. Harris (Albany: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1979). 1t may be o f some philological interest t o n o t e that Hegel sometimes uses the Latin word mentis t o refer here t o “spirit” or “mind,” as opposed t o “Geist,” which he uses consistently from the P G (abbrev. Phenomenology) onward. The later subject, part t h r e e of the Encyclopaedia o f the Philosophical Sciences, includes both philosophy and psychology as well as anthropology and what Hegel calls, with some confusion, “phe-

nomenology.” The anthropology section deals with such varied subjects as character development and sleep, psychopathology, health, gestures and physiognomy, stupidity, habits, and sleep-walking. The “Phenomenology” section is divided u p much like the P G , b u t w i t h detailed studies o f desire, d r i v e , activity, satisfaction, self-consciousness,

struggle, m a s t e r and slave, need, universal self-consciousness, and, finally, reason. The last part, entitled “Psychology,” deals with thinking, feeling, and happiness, respectively. Three volumes of the later work have been edited and translated by Michael John Petry (Dordrecht: Reidel, 1977, in German and English together). The best analysis of the “Philosophy o f Subjective Spirit” is Willem de Vries, Hegel's Theory of Mental Activity (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Pittsburgh, 1981). 5. A t his death, Hegel was also beginning a revision o f the Phenomenology. H e was

barely through half the Preface when he died, however, and so left us with the original w o r k Intact.

6. This view, o f course, should always be balanced against the opposing view, still dominant—for example, Stanley Rosen’s view that the P G can be properly understood

and appreciated only looking back a t i t from the Logic. See also, Hans Friedrich Fulda, Das Problem einer Einleitung im Hegels Wissenschaft der Logik (Frankfurt: 1965) a n d Fulda a n d H e n r i c h (eds.), Materialen zu Hegels “Phinomenologie des Geistes” (Frankfurt, 1973).

158

Setting the Stage

much later, when the book was almost completed. I t was a term with

a n o t insubstantial history in German philosophy—in Herder, for instance, a n d , m o s t importantly, i n K a n t . K a n t also u s e d t h e word “phe-

nomenology” t o describe the preliminary study, the “prolegomena” t o metaphysics. Phenomenology was the study of the structures of the world of experience (the world of “phenomena”), which could then be followed u p by the metaphysical questions of “practical reason,” namely “God, freedom, and immortality” For Kant, “phenomenology” was essentially the work o f his first Critique (of Pure Reason), the description o f the forms of space and time and the conceptual s t r u c tures of the understanding then a demonstration of the limits of experience and knowledge and the errors involved i n trying t o know what was more than “phenomena” —the world i n itself—or “noumenon.” For Hegel, “phenomenology” came t o occupy the whole o f the system, for h e h a d learned from Fichte a n d Schelling that there could b e n o “ t h i n g i n itself,” n o “noumenon,” a n d that therefore the whole o f metaphysics too, even “God, freedom, and immortality,” would have

be carried o u t as phenomenology, the study of the s t r u c t u r e s of experience. But the Phenomenology turned o u t t o be something much more than that. What happened, we might surmise, was that Hegel began his explorations of phenomenology i n a more or less routine Kantian fashion, coupled with his detailed knowledge of the ancient Greek philosophers and their metaphysical problems. (This 1s evident throughout the first three chapters of the Phenomenology.) But then, he discovered something else. What began as a routine introduction, to

a “ l a d d e r ” to the present standpoint i n philosophy (in 1806) became

something entirely different, a true phenomenology, n o t routine but an exploration, a series of realizations in which the point was no longer just t o reach the top (“the Absolute”); i t became the journey itself, the process of doing and discovering philosophy, that was all-important. Phenomenology ceased to be preliminary and took a life o f its own.

Hegel began the Phenomenology as an academic treatise on idealism, showing his allegiance but adding his own improvements t o Kant, Fichte, and Schelling, just as Fichte had “improved” on Kant, and just as Schelling had “improved” on Fichte (as Hegel himself had argued a t length in his Differenz-essay of 1801.) Hegel wanted t o compose his own system, beginning with a ladder from common sense (“sense certainty” o r “natural consciousness”) t o “the Absolute”—to solve the remaining problems i n Kant, t o “systematize” n a t u r e and freedom (already attempted by Fichte), t o c o r r e c t Fichte’s “one-sidedness” (which Schelling had already done in his “philosophy o f nature,”) and t o

The Phenomenology of Spirit

159

tighten u p the overly romantic and imaginative meanderings of his friend Schelling. I t was n o t an extravagant project, however pretentious the word “Absolute” may strike us now. Indeed, i f Hegel had

only succeeded in accomplishing this academic task, his name would probably n o t even appear i n o u r history books—nor that o f Schelling either. A t best, H e g e l would b e a m i n o r footnote to Kant, preserved

in some German Archiv.’ What Hegel did instead, was t o defend a much more tangible and practical philosophy than idealism, which as a philosophical thesis, baldly stated, h e considered absurd. What does i t mean for a suppos-

edly sane adult t o say that “the world is mind-related” or “it’s all Spirit”?® This was precisely the kind o f philosophical “abstraction” that Hegel had hated as a student. What interested him was the more existential theme o f the new h u m a n i s m ; “ i t 1s a h u m a n w o r l d ” or, i n Sartre's n o w

famous i f nominally sexist formulation, “Man makes himself.” But this too, stated abstractly, is worthless. Consider Sartre’s o w n work in

Being and Nothingness; when he toys with his various ontological proofs about the nothingness of consciousness and the indeterminacy of the “for itself,” he is brilliant but unconvincing. I t is when he t u r n s t o the examples—and n o t just because of his literary flair for vivid description—that he succeeds. H e shows us what a mere argument will n o t prove t o us. So too with Hegel; what he does i n the Phenomenology is t o take u p the thesis of humanism and demonstrate i t in a dozen different ways, in the realms of knowledge, society, morals and even religion. “The Absolute” becomes n o t an abstract philosophical thesis

b u t the result o f a score o r so demonstrations, grounded in the con-

crete questions of life. The Phenomenology of Spirit might be compared t o several other classic works; indeed, i t has often been compared quite convincingly t o Goethe's Faust, which it parallels i n its ambitious imaginative struct u r e . So too Dante’s Divine Comedy. O r Tristram Shandy, a book about itself and defined by its own embedded self-references. I n the per-

7. One can surmise that, had the project come off as originally planned, i t would have looked i n outline like the later “Phenomenology” that Hegel w r o t e along with his “Philosophy of Spirit” i n 1825; a. Consciousness as such: 1) Sensuous consciousness. 2) Perceptive consciousness. 3) Understanding. b . Self-consciousness:

1) Immediate self-consciousness. i ) Drive. i i ) Desire. i i i ) Satisfaction. 2) T h e relatedness o f one self-consciousness t o another. 1) Struggle. ii) Mastery and Servitude. iii) Communal provision. 3) Universal self-consciousness. c. Reason: 1) C e r t a i n t y . 2 ) S u b s t a n t i a l t r u t h . 3 ) K n o w i n g a n d spirit. N o t e s . I n d e x t o t h e Text.

Index t o t h e Notes. 8. Consider again Heine's w o n d e r f u l p a r o d y o n Fichte’s ldealism; “ H i m s e l f as e v e r y t h i n g ! H o w d o e s Mrs. F i c h t e p u t u p with i t ? ” (Germany)

160

Setting the Stage

spective of Hegel's m a t u r e system, it is often viewed as comparable t o Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, as the beginning but by no means merely “Introductory” volume of a monumental philosophical effort. I n its holistic monism, i t is compared t o Spinoza (not t o mention Schelling). I n its over-all teleology, however, it might best be compared t o Aristotle’s Metaphysics, w i t h its stress o n organic metaphors and the emphasis o n development. B u t what i t is first o f all is a n enormously

original view of philosophy, despite Hegel's academic intentions. And i t 1s not j u s t philosophy either, for the forms we follow through the Phenomenology are not just philosophical viewpoints—the history o f

philosophy, disembodied from the “conversation of humanity.” They are “forms o f consciousness,” which are sometimes articulated by phi-

losophers but have a life of their own—outside the seminars and the textbooks, i n the streets o f Paris and the beerhalls o f Berlin. A n d yet

again, Hegel remains very much the philosophical chauvinist, like Plato and Aristotle before him. The human spirit consists m o s t essentially of conceptual thought, o r “the Concept.” The history of spirit is “the Selt-Development of the Concept,” what Aristotle called “the function (telos) o f man.” T h e book is, then, like most (but by n o means all)

philosophical classics, an epic story of philosophical self-congratulation. A n d yet it 1s a vision which R u d o l f H a y m in 1857 described as “ t h e universe as a beautiful, living cosmos.” I t is not just a book for philos-

ophers.

Hegel's Approach to Philosophy As his manner o f approach, H e g e l conceived o f a strategy that ren-

dered his project extremely congenial: instead of adopting the usual academic arrogance of picking a position and defending it against all comers, gathering evidence for i t and contrasting i t favorably with

the opposition, Hegel would simply ride the wave of all the great philosophers before him, from the pre-Socratics and Plato u p t o Kant and the neo-Kantians. He would flow with the conflicting but ultimately unidirectional c u r r e n t s o f their efforts and be carried t o the end, for a final summation.’ T h u s , as opposed t o his discussion o f 9. Walter Kaufmann attacks Hegel from an uncharacteristically positivist standpoint when he argues that Hegel “fails t o recognize what is really the heart of scientific and rational procedure: confronted with propositions o r views, we should ask what precisely they mean; what considerations, evidence and arguments support them; what speaks against t h e m ; what alternatives are available; a n d w h i c h o f these is t h e most

probable.” (Kaufmann, Hegel, p. 173). We will pass over the absurd charge

that

Hegel for

“ f a i l s t o r e c o g n i z e . . . a l t e r n a t i v e s . ” B u t t h e d e m a n d for e v i d e n c e a n d arguments

The Phenomenology of Spirit

161

Fichte and Schelling i n the Differenz-essay of 1801, which he called “external,” he would in the Phenomenology actually take up their positions, and every other philosophical position, t o see, in their own terms (thus, “internally”), where they would lead. I n this way, he never actually opposed anyone: i n a sense, a l l h e d i d was g o along for the ride.

But what happened—what happens t o hitchhikers in less abstract endeavors, boys on bicycles holding o n t o trucks on the freeway, skiers who ride the avalanche—was t h a t Hegel n o t only got carried along, h e got carried away. H e was carried along by Plato and Aristotle and Kant, Fichte, a n d Schelling into u n k n o w n territory. H e d i d not “com-

plete” their various philosophies and establish “the Absolute”; he crashed through the academic walls of Identititsphilosophie and Germ a n Idealism and destroyed the methodological assurances o f phi-

losophers since Plato. H e almost came

to

the realization that there

could be n o realization o f the Absolute, that philosophy h a d n o “end,” t h a t the unity of consciousness was t o be found only i n its diversity. He almost discovered that philosophy, and human n a t u r e t o o , were

nothing b u t their history, w i t h o u t a terminus, without a Truth,

with-

an essence. But he didn’t, and his later philosophy proves that. What he discovered he denied; and once again, academic philosophy remained protected from the philistines.! out

We will discuss Hegel's “ m e t h o d ” (or non-method) soon enough,

but a simple question will suffice for here: i n 1801, Hegel criticized Reinhold for his neo-Kantian intention t o reject the history of philosophy as a n array o f errors, “ a museum o f mummies,” Hegel writes, and to simply “start over.” B u t what assures, Hegel asks, that this new system o f philosophy will not be just one more error, one more m u m m y for the museum? No-—that is n o t the way t o proceed, Hegel concludes; what will guarantee philosophical improvement is to start from

within these earlier philosophies, arming yourself with their strengths, inoculating yourself against their mistakes, and then proceeding, n o t an isolated position is a wholesale misunderstanding o f the Hegelian program. I n 1801,

Hegel attacked Reinhold for his attempt t o carry o u t Kaufmann’s program. H e flatly asserted that nothing would come o f it. 10. I n accordance with a contemporary convention, I will capitalize Truth when it refers t o that specialized sense o f “philosophical” o r “absolute” t r u t h (die Wahrheit). 11. Stanley Rosen, i n his Hegel, draws a conclusion exactly contrary t o this one. H e sees the Science of Logic as the crowning achievement, appreciates the PG through the

Logic, and celebrates the latter precisely because i t provides a bulwark against what he calls “nihilism”—the subject o f an earlier Rosen book. What I find so breathtaking a n d

rewarding about the PG, t o the contrary, is precisely this sense of “nihilism,” i n the very Nietzschean sense, “ t h e o p e n sea before us; never has there been such a n o p e n sea,” as

opposed

to

unified dogmatism which I have referred t o as “the transcendental pre-

tense,” t o w h i c h K a n t a n d t h e Absolute are central. See, for a very different k i n d o f

critique o f the pretensions o f post-Kantian philosophy, Richard Rorty’s Philosophy and the Mirror o f Nature ( P r i n c e t o n : P r i n c e t o n Univ. P r e s s , 1980).

162

Setting the Stage

by opposition, but by eclectic synthesis, t o approach the truth through the whole history o f both truths and errors. I t sounds like a n incred-

ibly sate uncontroversial philosophy. B u t i t didn’t

turn out

that way.

I n fact, ı t was his acceptance o f a n d continuity with the whole o f Weste r n thought that signaled a t the same time his wholesale rejection o f

the dominant philosophical tradition, the idea that one finds the Truth by starting from premises agreed t o be t r u e , and proceeding from truth t o truth. I n the Differenz-essay of 1801, and in his Berlin Lect u r e s o n the history of philosophy, Hegel continuously stressed the “constant essence of philosophy,” Truth as “timeless” and philosophy, reason, as one (das Gleiche). I n the Differenz-essay, Hegel writes: “Rea-

son necessarily finds itself throughout all its particular forms . . . it intuits itself as one and the same.” ! ? I n another early declaration, h e writes, “ T h a t philosophy is only one and can be only one r e s t s o n the fact that reason is only one . . . Reason . . . becomes philosophy and ‘> is only one and the same and therefore selt-identical (das Gleiche).”

And i n his later Lectures i n Berlin— We m u s t n o t regard the history o f philosophy as dealing with the past, even though it is history. . . . What is obtained i n this field o f labor is the T r u e , a n d , as such, the Eternal: i t 1s n o t what exists now,

and n o t t h e n ; i t is t r u e n o t only today o r tomorrow, b u t beyond all time, and i n as far as i t is i n time, i t is t r u e always and for every t i m e'*.

T h e quotations are revealing, a n d in the Phenomenology too, notably

throughout the preface and the final chapter on “Absolute Knowledge,” there is this c o n s t a n t insistence o n the eternity of truth, the unity o f reason, the essence o f philosophy. B u t i t is a n error which

hides the truth about Hegel. Buried beneath these Platonic images is the confusion between singularity and changelessness, for t o insist that a process is a unity is surely n o t necessarily t o insist that there must be any single principle that runs through the whole. ( A strong

rope may be composed of hundreds of relatively short threads, woven together into a single continuous braid.) Indeed, what Hegel would seem t o have shown us is that philosophy and the forms of consciousness have n o single essence, unless one wants to say that restlessness

and change are their essence—which is something of a sleight of hand. Thus we see in Hegel m u c h the same tension that one finds in the 12. Differenz-essay, p. 68. 13. I n the introduction t o the Critical Journal of Philosophy, vol. 1, no. 1, January 1802. 14. Lectures i n the History of Philosophy, trans H a l d a n e a n d Simson, Vol. I , I n t r o .

The Phenomenology of Sprit

163

ancient philosopher Heraclitus—the celebration o f the reality of c h a n g e , o n t h e o n e h a n d , b u t t h e residual i n s i s t e n c e o n a n u n d e r l y i n g

logos, which still retains the old prejudice for stasis, something that does not change, a n anchor for eternal reason, a n “absolute.” B u t

why, we should ask a t every t u r n , do we need an anchor? O r why, t o use Hegel’s o w n terminology against h i m , does “ t h e Absolute” have to

be absolute a t all? Perhaps, after all, “the Absolute” is just a word.

Hegel's Language Luther made the Bible and you have made Homer speak German. . . . I want t o say o f m y o w n efforts that I will t r y t o teach phil o s o p h y t o s p e a k G e r m a n . —Hegel, l e t t e r t o Voss ( 1 8 0 5 )

Here again, we see language as the existence o f Spirit. Language is self-consciousness existing for others, self-consciousness w h i c h as such

1s immediately present, and as this self-consciousness is universal. —Phenomenology

The Phenomenology is written with an obscurity that is inexcusable, even allowing for difficulties in the structure o f the book, Hegel's inconsistent motives a n d achievements, a n d the haste w i t h which h e

composed his t e x t . Some of the difficulty lies in the fact that Hegel goes o u t o f his way n o t t o tell us what he is talking about; the book is full of allusions t o philosophers, historical and fictional figures, and topics without names. Walter Kaufmann rightly warns that this tends t o t u r n the reader into a detective instead of a critical philosopher, and Hegel himself, Kaufmann suggests, often gets carried away with his allusions and t u r n s his examples into the subject matter itself.!® I n Hegel's defense, we might point o u t that every philosopher, looking for examples, naturally finds them in the work he or she knows best,

i n books recently read o r topics c u r r e n t a t the time. B u t i t is impor-

especially for a philosopher who throughout his work minimizes the importance of individuals, not t o allow the reader the impression tant,

that he is concerned with a particular case, a n ad hominem (or feminem)

analysis, but in every instance the analysis of a type, a form of consciousness. Thus the preponderance of pronouns, where we would rather expect names and nouns, a n d the intentional vagueness o f H e 15. Kaufmann, Hegel, p p . 1 4 4 - 4 6 . Also R u d o l f H a y m : “ T h e Phenomenology is psy-

chology reduced t o confusion and disorder by history, and history deranged by psychology” (Hegel und seine Zeut, p. 243).

164

Setting the Stage

gel’s references. Part of Hegel’s obscurity, then, is simply due

to

his

attempt to make his argumengs very general and n o t confined to just this o r that problem o r this o r that philosopher o r philosophical school.

There is a more profound form of defense of Hegel's obscure language, however, which n o t coincidentally has had particular popularity among Heideggerians, since it applies rather straightforwardly t o the intentional and often perverse obscurity of their own master as well. This is the view that Hegel, r u n n i n g u p against the limitations

of ordinary language, was forced t o invent his own language. Heidegger does this quite explicitly, and Hegel makes a t least one Heideggerian point i n the Preface of the Phenomenology t o the effect t h a t the subject-predicate structure o f ordinary German (as English) 1s too easily

and wrongly assumed t o reflect the essential ontology of the universe. (Phenomenology 60—62). B u t this single comment hardly constitutes a theory o f language, and it is surely n o t a n announcement o f so radical a n intention as the revision o f philosophical language as such. Hegel

may o r may n o t have invented a peculiar linguistic entity called “the speculative sentence,” but there is little substantiation in the Phenomenology that he has done so there. Furthermore, Hegel, unlike Heidegger, did n o t have the advantage of the considerable fund of modern research o n the s t r u c t u r e s o f language, although certain topics

concerning the use of language emerge periodically i n the Phenomenology.'® Consider, for a moment, a t y p i c a l sentence from t h e Phenomenology; T h e result was the unconditioned universal, i n t i a l l y , i n the negative

and a b s t r a c t

sense that consciousness negated its one-sided

Notions

a n d abstracted them: i n other words, i t gave t h e m u p . (134).

The s e n t e n c e is ripped from its context, o f course, but the difficulty is n o t just because of this. The use of specialized philosophical terms, the particularly clumsy grammar, the vagueness of reference—these block o u r r e a d i n g even before we are ready to ask what the sentence means and how it fits into the larger work. B u t these difficulties also

point t o a partial explanation; Hegel is concerned with what he calls “the Concept,” or what many philosophers today would call “concep: tual analysis.” That is, h e is concerned not with the particular details

of specific instances or events so much as he is concerned only with 16. F o r example, i n chapter 1, “Sense-Certainty” a n d chapter 6, the section o n “Culture.” For a c c o u n t s o f Hegel's special use o f language, see Jere Surber, “Hegel's Speculative Sentence,” and Daniel Cook, Language in the Philosophy of Hegel (Hague: Nijhoff, 1973). B u t the same considerations p r o m p t Christopher Middleton’s far more cynical

remark that Hegel, thinking he was describing the Absolute, was i n fact only describing t h e s t r u c t u r e o f t h e German s e n t e n c e . F o r a n e x c e l l e n t a c c o u n t o f Hegel's o w n t h e o r y o f language, see Willem de Vries, Hegel's Theory of Mental Activity, Part 111.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

165

universal conceptual s t r u c t u r e s and relations. This is common i n philosophy, though i t is rarely so brutally deprived of supporting examples and helpful analogies. We would like a few examples of “one-sided Notions”; we would like an example of an “unconditioned universal.” We are a bit uneasy about the phrase “ i n other words” equating “negated and abstracted” with the colloquial “gave them up,” a n d we are uncomfortable w i t h the common Hegelian repetition o f

“ i n the negative and abstract sense” and “negated . . . and abstracted.” Hegel has a nasty habit of introducing technical terms and phrases without warning or explanation; “the unconditioned universal” appears here without warning or explanation. Usually, what Hegel means b y “unconditioned universal” is a concept. B u t here, the phrase refers not to a concept nor even concepts in general b u t rather to a philo-

sophical theory about concepts (in particular, Kant’s theory; but this is not t h e place to e x p l a i n this). T h e r e is a general and serious difficulty

i n the Phenomenology i n that Hegel often fails or refuses t o distinguish between concepts and views about concepts, using versus having concepts, recognizing versus having a concept o f a concept. T h u s the first

and continuous problem of understanding Hegel's language will be deciding whether he is talking about something particular (for example, a concept) o r something more general (all concepts) o r a phil-

osophical theory (about concepts). Next, notice the repetition of t w o key words, “negative/negate” and “abstract/abstracted”. First, these words are n o t used i n their usual (German o r English) senses; second, and worse, they are n o t even

used i n the same senses i n their t w o appearances i n the same sent e n c e . “Negative” does n o t mean denial o r demeaning; i t means something more like “by reference to something else” “Abstract” does not m e a n theoretical o r abstruse so m u c h as i t means “partial” (or

“one-sided”). But then, Hegel uses “negated . . . and abstracted” as equivalent to “gave them u p . ” T h e apparent repetition is something tar more significant and difficult; i t 1s a n intentional play o n technical

homonyms, a verbal dialectic through which Hegel conscientiously prevents us from getting a firm grasp on his language. From one dominant philosophical point of view, such ambiguity and verbal lack o f precision 1s nothing b u t hateful. B u t if we are to

understand Hegel

a t all, i t is necessary t o a t least appreciate what he is doing and, a t the same time, understand why it is that he is so hard t o pin down and make precise. The key t o the slipperiness of Hegel's language is the phrase “the fluidity of the Concept,” which he learned from Hölderlin. T h e “fluidity” 1s indeed slipperiness, but the strategy

is n o t perversity so m u c h as i t is a fundamental lesson i n the philoso-

166

Setting the Stage

phy o f (philosophical) language; concepts are always context-bound. Words

have meaning because of the way they are played against one another. What counts as a n “object” depends o n the context; the n u m ber five is a n object i n mathematics, I t is n o t a n object in a n antique

shop. What counts as a “concept” depends on context too; a concept in architecture exists tangibly o n a piece o f blue paper; a concept i n

philosophy, according t o Hegel, is n o t depictable i n pictures a t all. I n philosophy, concepts themselves become objects (when they become the object of our examination, for instance). Objects become concepts, when we ignore their physical manifestation and attend only t o

what makes them an object of such and such a kind (their “essence,” according t o a related terminology). Hegel plays these terms oft against one another continuously throughout the Phenomenology, so much so that the reader is best advised t o look n o t so much for the meaning as for the interplay o f terms. I t is this interplay that he later calls “dia-

lectic”. When Hegel

contrasts

a universal and a particular, it depends o n

the context which 1s which, and since contexts often overlap, Hegel

will often play off the fact that a universal in one c o n t e x t is a particular i n another. “Dog” is a universal (a concept) is contrast t o particular dogs; “ d o g ” is a particular (an empirical, specific concept) i n contrast to the more general concept o f a “ l i v i n g being.” B u t even “living

being” is particular in contrast t o the concept of “life” itself. The reader who is n o t familiar with Hegel's philosophy could n o t be expected t o understand the philosophical vision that lies behind this sequence of examples; but the point here is just t o understand the point and purpose o f Hegel's unusual use o f language. H e uses (what we would call)

abstract terms and plays them off against one another i n various cont e x t s . The philosophical word “immediate,” t o take one more exa m p l e , s o m e t i m e s m e a n s “ n e x t to,” s o m e t i m e s means “instantly acces-

sible,” sometimes means “identical to,” with just that kind of variation that one would expect i n ordinary English; my immediate kin is my brother, who is 3000 miles away. My immediate neighbor is a complete stranger, who lives right upstairs. My immediate reply t o your question took 6/7ths of a second, while my immediate reply t o your letter took t w o days. One can give a rough definition o f the word “immediate” (unmittelbar)!” but more important is the understanding that i t is i n every case the context t h a t determines the specific meaning. I t is the dialectical use o f philosophical terms, not their precise mean-

ing, that illustrates the over-all point that Hegel is trying t o make. 17. I have tried t o provide such rough definitions o f Hegel's key dix t o Part I .

terms

i n an Appen-

The Phenomenology of Spirit

167

What is that point? I n one sense, i t is simply the point that all concepts are context-bound, “ t h e fluidity o f the Concept.” B u t i n a larger sense, the point is that philosophical t e r m s and statements are essen-

tially interrelated; they receive their meaning and their plausibility (or lack thereof) only b y virtue o f other terms and statements, against

a background of other claims and principles, within the history of a discipline which has developed a certain way o f looking a t the world and certain t e r m s t o express it. Indeed, the main point of the Phenomenology, which we will examine in the following sections, is just this historical unity of conceptual thought, the “dialectical movement” which holds o u r shared consciousness o f the world together even as i t pulls

it apart with differences and conflicts of opinion. Hegels language, and the structure o f the Phenomenology itself, are composed precisely t o make that point, indeed, a point which is rarely stated as such i n the book because i t is so incessant in the presentation itself. Hegel's language is n o t so much vague or obscure as it is itself the illustration of the dialectical thesis of the Phenomenology; the particulars of life are hard t o pin down. Notice that the subject of the illustrative sentence is consciousness. I t is consciousness that “negates and abstracts” and “gives u p ” its notions. The subject is n o t “we” or “some philosophers” or “certain phil-

osophical viewpoints” nor even “Western thought”; it is conscious-

ness, in general, unqualified and unexplained. This is in itself a rather massive philosophical commitment, needless t o say, and we shall spend many of the following pages trying t o understand it. But i n t e r m s of Hegel's use of language, i t raises a number of problems i n addition t o the metaphysical questions; usually, Hegel is c o n t e n t t o use “consciousness” as the subject; occasionally, he interrupts this usage with “we” o r “we who are watching the process.” Sometimes, he does quality “consciousness” as consciousness of a certain type, for instance “perceptual consciousness” (in chapter 2). This changes what first appeared t o be an unusual philosophical voice into a chorus of c o n t r a puntal voices. Distinguishing them and understanding the counterpoint is one of the m o s t pervasive and difficult tasks i n reading the Phenomenology. And the semantic properties of “consciousness” we shall find, are unlike the usual properties of speakers and subjects. Notice how the translator retains the capitalization of “Notion” (from “Begriff ”) i n this sentence.!® This is a standard convention, which we will continue i n our discussion of the Phenomenology. But the use of capitalization m u s t be viewed with caution; i t distinguishes certain 18. I have throughout translated “Begriff” as “Concept,” n o t as “Notion.”

168

Setting the Stage

key philosophical terms, b u t it does not grant t h e m special metaphysical status. I f we capitalize the word “Truth” to distinguish a very special philosophical concern ( “ W h a t is Truth?”) from more ordinary at-

tempts t o learn “the truth about Ronald's private life,” i f we capitalize “Spirit” t o distinguish Hegel’ central term from more pedestrian uses o f the t e r m (“the spirit o f the team”), that should be taken as a warni n g , n o t as divinization. T h e fact is, o f course, that the carry-over

from the German is m o s t misleading, since all German nouns are capitalized and Hegel's own capitalizations were therefore nothing more than a matter o f grammatical necessity. I n our sample sentence,

we might just as well have capitalized “Result,” “Universal,” and “Sense”; i n following the convention we should also be continually wary of 1 t . ! ? We said earlier that Hegel did n o t have the advantage of the comprehensive theories o f language

that

we have today. A n d yet, Hegel

did develop a quite sophisticated view o f language and he did have the advantage o f several prominent but conflicting theories. There were Platonic theories that treated the concepts that language expressed as independently existing entities, a n d there were Kantians w h o saw concepts as faculties o f the h u m a n mind itself. There were “imagists” w h o conceived o f concepts as images ( John Locke, for in-

stance), and there were nominalists who conceived of concepts mainly in terms o f the use o f words (David H u m e , for example).?° Most important, however, were t w o very broad views o f language that were

defended by the Enlightenment and Romanticism respectively (though of course there were wide differences of opinion within these movements.) The Enlightenment philosophers—Leibniz m o s t famously— held the view that the concepts expressed in the various known languages were basically the same, a n d the essential concepts expressed in philosophy were the essence o f reason itself. Indeed, Leibniz pro-

posed the formulation o f a universal language on precisely that basis: 19. The leap from grammatical necessity t o ontological enthusiasm is nowhere more obvious than i n Hegel's discussion o f “the State” i n his Philosophy of Right, which Karl Popper, for instance, takes t o be something o f a proof o f Hegel's deification o f fascism.

Other translation oddities from German into English have a more far-reaching philosophical effect. For example, i n German there is the tendency t o nominalize and personity expressions, such that an activity, for example, becomes a grammatical agency; instead of talking about understanding (verstehen) as an activity, expressed by a verb, K a n t , H e g e l , a n d their friends continuously talk about u n d e r s t a n d i n g (Verstehen) as a n agency, expressed by a n o u n , which does things. T h u s from “ I understand x ” t o “ t h e understanding grasps x ” is a major step t o the rather extravagant ontology o f forces w o r k i n g through us (language, u n d e r s t a n d i n g , reason a n d , ultimately, “Spirit”), w h i c h is so central t o German philosophy from Leibniz t o Heidegger.

20. This discussion is abbreviated from de Vries, who borrows the terminology from H . H . Price, Thinking and Experience (London, 1953). We might n o t e here that Hegel is decisively a n t i - “ i m a g i s t ” ; he rejects t h e romantic emphasis o n i m a g e s (Vorstellungen) a n d insists o n “ t h e C o n c e p t ” (Begriff).

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

169

concepts were the same, only the words were different. Certain romantic theorists, H e r d e r for example, were more prone to stress the

significance of the differences between languages. Particular languages define a particular people; a language defines a community as well as

provides the vehicle for articulation through which that community expresses and recognizes itself. These t w o different views of language reflect profound differences i n both the concept o f a culture and i n the concept o f a language. We

have already discussed the differences between the emphasis on “culture” among the romantics and the emphasis on universal “humanity” ın the Enlightenment, but the differences i n the views of language have even far more striking consequences. Insofar as Hegel argues that language is capable of grasping the Absolute through concepts, he is committed t o the Enlightenment view (and antagonistic t o that romantic view of Jacobi and others which denies this). But insofar as he follows Herder (on a more philosophical level) and insists that language is p a r t o f a n d intrinsic to a particular form o f consciousness, Hegel is committed t o a more daring thesis t o the effect

that the concepts expressed by various languages might be different too.2! These t w o conceptions of language are a t odds with each other and reflect the more general tension between historicism and absolutism i n Hegel's philosophy. Not incidentally, this tension also wreaks havoc on Hegel's language, resulting in even more obscurity and awkwardness of expression. Hegel's language is an essential ingredient in his philosophy, n o t merely the vehicle of its expression. His c o n s t a n t word play and ambiguity makes precise analysis difficult i f n o t impossible, but what is important is understanding what a sentence is doing, just as much as trying t o understand what i t means. Reading Hegel involves a kind

of textual hermeneutics that is

not

usually necessary in reading the

great philosophers, b u t then, i t is just this that H e g e l holds against 21. The crucial distinction here, between words and concepts, becomes apparent i n questions about translation. I f i t were the case, as we suppose for convenience i n Berlitz courses and college language labs, that different words i n different languages had the same sense, the same meaning, expressed the same concepts, then different languages

as such would

not

be o f any philosophical significance. Hegel i n English would mean

exactly the same thing he means i n German. B u t i f i t is the case that different words i n

different languages also have different meanings, express different concepts, then the difference i n languages has an enormous philosophical implication, that the t w o languages may n o t really be inter-translatable a t all (at most, we can get a n approximation

that allows for cooperation and some degree of understanding, but no more). Hegel i n German is thus n o t Hegel i n English, and a fully bilingual scholar is stuck with t w o Hegels instead o f only one. All o f this is independent of another question, however— whether cultures w i t h different concepts, whether o r n o t they share the same language,

share a

phenomenology.

170

Setting the Stage

the great philosophers, that they do n o t see themselves in c o n t e x t and do n o t see their language as a “fluid” medium of consciousness. Hegel’s obscurity may be regrettable, but i t illuminates a pervasive philosophical message all the same. Hegel's language may be extremely difficult, but it is language, he insists against the romantics, that makes knowledge possible a t all.2? And yet, with all of this said, what c a n n o t be denied is the fact that Hegel could have been clearer; his ambiguities could have been explained; his “dialectic” could be less perverse. Indeed, when we consider Hegel’s earlier essays, which were for the m o s t part clear, witty and provocative without the learned obscurity, his language i n his “mature” works becomes more intolerable. Moreover, in the year or so just after publication of the Phenomenology, having lost his professorship a t Jena, Hegel edited a popular newspaper i n Bamberg. H e knew how t o write a simple coherent German s e n t e n c e . The profundities of dialectical thinking aside, why did he refuse t o do so?** The first and most obvious if unflattering reason 1s that Hegel discovered, like hundreds of academic hopetuls before him and since, that obscurity and profundity are easily confused, that the smaller the audience, the more academically acceptable one is likely t o be, and

that the harder one is t o understand, the less likely one is t o be refuted. We can mark the change in Hegel’ style with precision; it changes abruptly i n 1799-1800, when he was seriously looking for an academic post. I t reached its nadir i n 1800-1803, with his first university position, in the Differenz-essay of 1801, the essay o n “Faith and Knowledge” of 1802, and the all but unreadable essay on “Natural Law” o f 1803. O n the basis o f this, he was promoted i n 1805. The second and n o t unrelated explanation was Hegel's disdain for “popular” philosophizing. I n his review of Fichte in the Differenz-essay i n 1801, Hegel made no mention of Fichte’s most popular work, published the year before, The Vocation of Man. I n that work, Hegel told Schelling, Fichte had compromised himself; he had become “dogmatic, n o t speculative.” And in a famous letter t o Schelling, Hegel even back i n 1795, had said, “ I feel sorry for Fichte; beer glasses a n d 22. Thus sense-certainty, the first form o f consciousness t o be considered, fails precisely o n the g r o u n d that “ i t c a n n o t say what i t means.” I t is worth noting that Hegel also ordered the arts, as well as conceptual forms, o n the basis o f their conceptual competence. T h u s poetry a n d drama earn accolades as the “highest” o f arts, precisely

because they are articulate and, Hegel adds, “on the way”

to

philosophy.

23. I t is i n reference t o Hegel's “Faith and Knowledge” that Walter C e r t suggests

that “the stylistic rule o f [Hegel's early] essays seems t o be this: the more complex the grammatical c o n s t r u c t i o n o f a sentence a n d t h e less clear its m e a n i n g , t h e m o r e speculative i t w i l l b e ” ( i n his i n t r o d u c t i o n t o his ( & H.S. Harris's) translation o f “ F a i t h a n d K n o w l e d g e ” ( A l b a n y : S.U.N.Y. Press, 1977), p . xxil.).

The Phenomenology of Spirit

171

patriotic swords have resisted the force of his spirit.” And he added, “perhaps he would have accomplished more i f he . . . had only attempted t o educate a quiet, select little group.”** Third, Hegel attempts t o introduce into his text (without quotation marks o r references) whole passages in literal translation from the Greek philosophers, particularly in the early chapters. Literal translations are awkward enough, b u t even more so w h e n incorporated unannounced into already obscure (“speculative”) philosophical prose. F o u r t h , o f course, there is the awkwardness o f the G e r m a n lan-

guage, especially when translated into English (Nietzsche lamented the fact that he could not write in French o r English.) Idiomatic phrases and complex constructions do n o t translate well, but a literal translator feels forced t o be faithful t o them.?® I f i t 1s any comfort t o the English reader, German translators have often said that Hegel reads even worse i n German.2¢ Fifth, and perhaps more fanciful, Nietzsche has suggested that Hegel’s atrocious style is largely due t o his fear of expressing himself: N o famous German had more spirit than Hegel; but he felt such a g r e a t G e r m a n dread o f ıt t h a t h e c r e a t e d his p e c u l i a r bad s t y l e . The core 1s a witty, often saucy idea . . . the wrapping is abstruse science and s u p r e m e l y moral b o r e d o m . ? ’

I n that brief comment Nietzsche best sums u p the view that I will

be entertaining here—that it is the spirit and the “witty, often saucy” core of Hegel that is worthy of admiration, while the letter of his work— o r its “wrapping”—is n o t fit for emulation. One can excuse Hegel's language just so far, but then i t is time t o appreciate the liveliness of the book itself.

24. Letter of August 30, 1795, i n Kaufmann, Hegel, p. 304. 25. Thus the particular awkwardness of the old Baillie translation of the book, as The Phenomenology ofMind (New York: Harper and Row, 1966). Kaufmann’s translation o f the Preface ( i n his Hegel) shows j u s t h o w well the G e r m a n i d i o m s c a n be c a p t u r e d i n

familiar English. A.V. Miller's full translation leans toward the literal and so often loses the vernacular flavor o f Hegel's prose. 26. For example, Walter Cerf, i n his Introduction t o the Differenz-essay, p . viii. 27. Nietzsche, Dawn, 1 193, translated a n d q u o t e d by K a u f m a n n (Hegel, p . 119).

Chapter Four (b)

T h e Phenomenology o f

Spirit:

Its Purpose (“Truth”) The objects o f philosophy, i t is t r u e , are upon the whole the same as those o f religion. I n both, the object is Truth, in that supreme sense in which God and God only is the Truth. Both i n like manner go on t o treat o f the finite worlds o f N a t u r e a n d the h u m a n M i n d , w i t h their relation to each other a n d to their t r u t h i n G o d . . . —Hegel, Logic

The stated goal of Hegel's philosophy is Truth.?® But then, every nonfiction writer is after the truth, and most fiction writers t o o . Hegel even tells us, i n effect, that “ t r u t h ” is the goal o f every h u m a n activity—art, ethics, religion, and politics as well as mathematics, science, and philosophy. A n d to make matters worse, the idea that philosophy

is “the search for truth” too easily suggests that Hegels goal is the collection of infinitely many tidbits of truth, a potpourr: of little insights and suggestions, different from an empirical science such as botany o r numismatics only i n its unrestricted scope. ( H e

too

calls his

work “Science.”) Thus even i n his own day, critics accused Hegel (and his friend Schelling) of doing nothing more than collecting haphazard bits of empirical sciences and occasional anecdotes from history and the humanities and organizing them (badly) under a few abstract headings. There is the standard story of the unperceptive critic who challenged Hegel t o “deduce his fountain pen” from his system of philosophy;?? and critics who should know better still seem t o think t h a t what Hegel means by “Encyclopaedia” and “absolute Science” is 28. PG, 1, i n the Logic p. 1. 29. The critic was a quite well-known philosopher a t the time. H e was Wilhelm Krug,

who was given Kant’s chair a t Königsberg after the great philosopher’s death i n 1804. Hegel had published a bitingly sarcastic essay on him in the Critical Journal, i n which Hegel takes K r u g t o task for his “petty” philosophical outlook. The criticism is repeated i n a footnote t o the 1827 Encyclopaedia, i n the Philosophy of Nature (p. 23): “One could perhaps give h i m hope that his pen would have the glory o f being deduced, i f ever

philosophy should advance so far and have such a clear insight into every great theme i n heaven and o n earth, past and present, that there was nothing more important t o

comprehend.”

172

The Phenomenology of Spirit

173

the impossible claim t o have incorporated all of the truths of the world, once and for all, into a single all-encompassing “system.” W h a t Hegel's system is about, its goal o r purpose, has little to d o

with the details of the empirical sciences—in fact, i t has only tangentially t o d o w i t h “science,” i n o u r sense, a t all. What Hegel means by

“Science” or Wissenschaft is the general, disciplined study and understanding of the various forms of human knowledge, including science (that 1s, empirical sciences such as physics, chemistry, and biology) as well as art, religion, ethics, a n d philosophy. I t is a n attempt to be clear about the whole o f life, and t o determine the place of these various endeavors i n life, t o rank them according t o their adequacy and their priorities, paying attention t o their details only by way of illustration (granted that he sometimes gets carried away with the illustrations). I t is an ancient enterprise, and an on-going one. One person says that

is the meaning of life; another insists that the essentials of life are human interrelationships; still another says scientific knowledge, and another says God and religion. One more, a philosopher, no doubt, blandly insists that the good life includes them all—and who can disagree’ But then the question o f their place and priorities and adequacy remains unanswered, which perhaps might n o t be of any imart

portance to a creature w i t h infinite time a n d n o conflicts i n life, b u t not for the rest o f us. Philosophy, i n a phrase, is getting clear about w h a t we k n o w a n d h o w to live. T h e T r u t h , for Hegel, consists n o t o f

the details of life but of that single all-embracing, self-reflective philosophical vision, i n which all of the pieces fall neatly in place. The Truth t h a t is the goal of Hegel's Phenomenology has t o do with knowledge, o f course, b u t i t would be misleading to t h i n k o f knowl-

edge strictly in the sense of “knowing that” the world is such and such. Hegel's Truth, and his conception o f knowledge, is also practical knowledge—"“knowing how”—and it is, most of all, self-knowledge, reflection o n one’s own activities and their significance. The goal o f Truth 1s thus more akin t o a kind o f self-confidence—about oneself and one’s position i n and knowledge of the world—than it is just another set o f doctrines, however impressive o r profound.

With this in mind, we might insist that the Phenomenology 1s n o t only a book about Truth; i t 1s also a treatise o n the good life and human happiness. I t is something of an ethics, with its crowning achievement—as i n Aristotle's Ethics—the life o f “contemplation,” the life o f complete understanding, the life i n which the meaning o f the whole and o u r o w n essential p a r t i n i t becomes clear to u s . ” I t is also the 30. Rosen, p . 37.

174

Setting the Stage

search for a unified Truth—a single, all-embracing vision of the world— a quest too easily neglected i n the pursuit o f particular philosophical or scientific problems. Imagine Kant, for instance, reading once again Newton's Principia, expressing wonder a t “the starry skies above.” At the same time, think o f Kant the devout moralist, remembering his mother’s moral urgings t o strive for “holiness” and stressing “the moral law within” But how do these t w o aspects of life fit together? How can life b e separated into two worlds, two selves, and b o t h o f them all

but indifferent t o the emotional existence of other people? To Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, such a schizoid world was utterly unacceptable (as i t was, ultimately, t o Kant). Philosophy had t o be the quest for

over-all unity and comprehensibility, n o t piecemeal analysis and justification of particular human endeavors—even such large human endeavors as science and morality. Truth had t o be first of all this comprehensive world-view, i n which the order and the intelligibility of the various forms of human experience could be established. From a theoretical point o f view, the Truth m i g h t be conceived as a

philosophical doctrine establishing the unity and intelligibility of our experience and the world. I t is, i n more traditional terms, a n account

of our knowledge o f the world such that we can be assured that the world is indeed comprehensible and, equally important, comprehensible by us. B u t from a more practical point o f view, the Truth is con-

cerned rather with human happiness or well-being—eudaimonia, i n Aristotle’s language. And like Aristotle, Hegel found the ultimate ingredient i n that Truth the philosophical life of contemplation. The Truth, in other words, was mainly thinking, i n particular thinking about thinking (Aristotle’s formulation again.) The good life, the best life, was the life of the philosopher. I f there were n o more philosophical reason for questioning Hegel's “Absolute,” this a l o n e , for non-philosophers, should b e sufficient. Why,

pray tell, should the Truth, so defined, t u r n up ultimately in the realm of the philosophers? One answer 1s t o be found in Tolstoy’s War and Peace: . . . history is written by learned men and so it 1s natural and agreeable for them t o think that the activity o f their class is the basis for just as it would be natural and agreethe movement o f all humanity, able for merchants, agriculturalists and soldiers t o entertain such a belief. ( I f they do n o t express it, i t is only because merchants and soldiers d o n o t write history.)

I f one defines “ t h e Truth” as a n all-embracing harmonious participatory

view o f the world, as Hegel often does, it is clear that philoso-

p h y a t l e a s t h a s a role i n t h e search for t r u t h , i f n o t , p e r h a p s , a n

The Phenomenology of Spirit

175

“absolute” role. But i f we are t o understand Hegel and his philosophy, i t is just as important t o appreciate the large roles he gives t o non-philosophical pursuits. Indeed, he abuses Schelling among others precisely because his friend sought t o summarize the whole of creation in a simple slogan, “All is One.” B u t making sense o f the world does n o t consist in abstracting oneself from it, wrapping i t in a piece of philosophical tissue paper and sticking a label o n it. I t consists just as much i n engagement as reflection, living the details while paying attention t o the forms.?! The goal of the Phenomenology, accordingly, is not so m u c h to present us with a single all-embracing

conclusion about human life so much as t o appreciate, live through, and put in their place the multitude of forms of human existence, through which non-philosophers too live their lives and give them meaning.

The Problem o f Truth Facts get i n the way o f truth. —Cervantes, Don Quixote

Pontius Pilate cynically shrugged his shoulders—“What is Truth?” I t was not a question. B u t philosophers have not been so contemptuous;

truth is their profession, their calling. Whatever else a philosopher gives us, we expect a n answer to the p r o b l e m o f Truth, a n d a n answer

Pilate’s non-question. Philosophers talk about “the problem of Truth.” What problem? The man-on-the-street, like Pilate before Christ, would n o t see any to

problem at all, nor would a great many contemporary authors w h o have been baptized back i n t o common sense b y Wittgenstein. Indeed, one m i g h t well argue that there is n o “problem o f Truth” as such.

Philosophers found a problem because they created i t themselves, o r rather, because other philosophers created i t before and for them. Aristotle found n o problem there; he bluntly stated what n o one could

seemingly deny, that “to say o f what is, that it is, is true.” But later philosophers, being philosophers, showed that that wouldn’t do a t all, and other philosophers started t o deny that there was such a thing as

“the Truth,” or a t least, a Truth t h a t could be known by us. I n response t o this, a new generation of ingenious thinkers—notably Kant— began to suggest

that

the Truth was o f o u r o w n making. E n t e r Hegel.

The problem o f Truth for him is t h e creation of his predecessors. But 31. This is Sartre’s definition o f “dialectic,” i n his Critique de la Raison dialectique.

176 not

Setting the Stage only this. These problems have been created

out

of “common

sense” usage, a n d philosophers, from Aristotle to Kant, only made them explicit and developed them. B u t this means too, that the an-

swer t o these problems cannot be, as in Wittgenstein and G.E. Moore, a r e t u r n to common sense, for if Hegel is r i g h t (and German philos-

ophy in general has tended t o agree with him) ı t is the lazy dogmatism of so-called “common sense” t h a t gives rise t o these problems i n the first place. T h e problem o f Truth, Hegel tells us later ( i n his lectures o n the

history of philosophy, in the 1820s) is t o “reconcile Concept and Reality.” Elsewhere, he tells us t h a t the problem is t o reconcile “the Concept w i t h itself.” F o r any m o d e r n philosophy student, these two for-

mulations should be perfectly familiar—canonized (since Hegel's time) as “the correspondence theory o f t r u t h ” and “the coherence theory of truth,” respectively. The correspondence theory insists t h a t truth is a one-to-one matching (or “correspondence”) between our concepts (beliefs, statements, or judgments) and “the facts” o f reality. T h e coherence theory rather insists that truth is internal agreement and interdependence o f o u r concepts (beliefs, statements, o r judgments),

and n o t “correspondence” t o anything “outside” o u r experience a t all. “The facts,” according t o the coherence theory, m u s t be functions of our concepts. Hegel rejects the correspondence theory completely; he agrees that a n adequate theory o f Truth m u s t account for o u r knowledge o f par-

ticular facts and objects, but particular facts and objects are

not

the

focus o f Hegel's quest. T h e p r i m a r y demand for a theory o f Truth is

that it provide us with the s t r u c t u r e o f reality (“the Absolute”) as a

whole and demonstrate the all-embracing coherence of reality and o u r knowledge o f i t . T h u s H e g e l leans toward (but does n o t exactly

adopt) a coherence-type theory. Indeed, o n e of his primary requirements for a theory of Truth is t h a t it be wholly self-contained, and that it be able t o demonstrate its own adequacy. I t is n o t enough t o a c c o u n t for the truth (lower-case “t”) o f our ordinary empirical beliets (the province of the correspondence theory). A philosophical theory o f Truth must also explain the nature o f philosophical Truth itself, i n

other words, establish the validity o f an all-embracing model o f the world and our knowledge of it rather than simply assuming such a model and arguing from it. What is Hegel's conception o f Truth? First o f all, i t is a heavily prac-

tical conception of Truth, with strong affinities

to

what has been de-

fended i n this c e n t u r y (by William James a n d others) as “ t h e pragmatic t h e o r y o f t r u t h ” ( H a r v a r d p r a g m a t i s t C . I . Lewis t r a c e d h i s o w n

views

to

Fichte; John Dewey referred his work

to

Hegel.) Second,

177

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

because h e is so keenly aware o f the historical development o f the concept—as well as “ t h e p r o b l e m ” o f t r u t h , Hegel sees, as too few philosophers d o , that any answer to this so-called p r o b l e m cannot be

merely formal but m u s t be explicitly situated i n and traced from the whole history o f human thought. “Truth” is a concept which must be understood i n terms o f its historical, a n d philosophical, development.

And third, because the so-called problem of truth has emerged through philosophical criticism from seemingly unquestionable “common sense” origins, the whole problem o f truth, together with any proposed sol u t i o n t o i t , must b e situated i n common-sense consciousness as well; t o be indeed a problem, rather than a philosopher’

i t m u s t be shown

sophistry or, i n Wittgenstein’s felicitous phrase, “language going o n a

holiday.” What is the “problem”? I n a n a r r o w sense, o n e might say that the problem o f Truth 1s the fact that some philosophers, with good arguments, have claimed that there 1sn’t any, o r that we cannot k n o w it.

But this problem—which goes by the ancient and honorable n a m e scepticism—has been solved, or so Hegel believed.’ The solution was Kant’s revolution, and though incomplete, Hegel considered this t o be the starting point o f all modern philosophy, and in particular, the basis o f any theory o f Truth. According t o Kant, the problem is n o t whether o u r concepts conform t o objects, b u t rather h o w o u r concepts determine the objects o f o u r experience. T h e o l d problem (that

is, before 1781 and Kant’s first Critique) had been—Is there anything that o u r “representations” r e p r e s e n t ? A n d if there m u s t be, h o w c o u l d

we possibly know this? T h e new problem, since Kant, and since Fichte’s variations o n K a n t , is—What are the possible forms o t the T r u t h , and

which ones are the best? Hegel sometimes says that the Truth is but the content o f all experience, conceived in terms o f various forms. Other times, he talks as i f Truth itself is but the best form, all-encompassing and absolute. Ultimately, he claims t o reject the distinction between “form” a n d “content” (Logic, 1331f.) b u t this distinction plays too cen-

tral a role i n the Phenomenology t o be simply dismissed. T h e c o n c e p t o f “ T r u t h ” (die Wahrheit o r das Wahre) i n Hegel's phi32. The role o f scepticism i n Hegel's philosophy is confused by the fact that we quite naturally think o f the modern version, a la David Hume, while Hegel distinguishes rather sharply between the modern version and the ancient Skeptics, Pyrrho and Sext u s Empiricus. H e t h o r o u g h l y repudiates t h e former, including H u m e ' s G e r m a n c o u n -

terparts (e.g. Gottlob Ernst Schulze, whom Hegel takes apart i n an early essay), but praises the latter for its rightly aimed attack o n common sense dogmatism. I n the rem a i n d e r o f the book, I will refer to Hegel's discussion o f ancient Skepticism ( i n P G , chap. 4) as a p r o p e r n o u n w i t h a “ k ” , b u t refer t o epistemological scepticism as a n o r d i n a r y n o u n w i t h a “c.” See also, Hegel's remarks o n H u m e i n the Logic, 1 39. 33. I have t r i e d t o f i n d s o m e systematic usage for t h e t w o t e r m s i n t h e P G b u t have n o t succeded i n doing so. Usually, “die Wahrheit” Wahre” t o m o r e o r d i n a r y t r u t h , b u t n o t always.

refers

to

philosophical Truth, “das

178

Setting the Stage

losophy might best be thought o f i n

terms

o f “purpose” o r “goal” o r

“ideal,” rather than the m o r e limited conception o f “ t r u t h ” as i n “ t r u e

belief” or “knowing the truth.” The problem o f Truth as developed from Aristotle, culminating i n scepticism a n d resolved by K a n t is b u t a n a r r o w selection o f the p r o b l e m Hegel is worrying about, i n which

the post-Kantian question about the possible forms and priorities o f experience c a n n o t be considered i n the realm o f epistemology alone. Truth is the purpose o f every human activity; truth in a scientific inquiry 1s the best explanation, the m o s t complete account. Truth i n a r t 1s beauty, (as Keats told us only a few years after Hegel had written the Phenomenology). Truth in ethics is moral rectitude. “ I am the Truth,”

said Jesus, pointing t o his own ideal s t a t u s as the ultimate object o f faith. I n his Logic, Hegel points o u t the etymology o f the word “true” (wahr) in German—which turns o u t t o be the same in English—such that 1t o r i g i n a l l y m e a n t “ f a i t h f u l , ” as i n “ a t r u e friend” or, i n marks-

manship, “ t r u e aim”—right o n target and taithful t o one’s intentions. T h e theme here, again, is Aristotelean—the idea that “every a r t o r science, every investigation, action a n d choice, seems to aim at some

good” (Nicomachean Ethics, Book i, chap 1.). But the question then immediately follows, whether these various “goods” are in turn aimed a t some further good, and perhaps some single ultimate good. Aristotle says “yes”, and that single, ultimate good 1s called “happiness” (eudarmoma) o r simply “ d o i n g well.” So too, for Hegel, there is a n ul-

timate Truth. But then again, according t o both Aristotle and Hegel, we have to see what this ultimate e n d consists i n . I f i t includes, as i t

all o f the various good things i n life, what we need 1s an a c c o u n t o f their n a t u r e s and roles. I n Aristotle’s time, despite his own emphasts on “the contemplative life,” the m o s t important single feature of life was honor, one’s standing among one’s fellow men. I n an earlier must,

era, the w a r r i o r virtues were most i m p o r t a n t o f all, a n d

ın a

later

time, the Christian era, faith became the ultimate virtue. By Hegel's time, and in Hegel's place, there were n o such clear-cut answers. T h e Enlightenment celebrated reason, the Romantics feeling a n d sensi-

tivity. Science was already making its demand (which we now seem t o accept) t o be recognized as the new source o f infallibility, while religion still held o n t o its Teutonic flocks with a home-grown attractiveness that h a d d i m i n i s h e d b u t little since M a r t i n Luther. What philoso p h y needed, therefore, was a new Aristotle, to once again p u t the

pieces i n their place under the philosophical heading o f “Truth.” Science and the sciences would have their place, o f course, but only along w i t h art, society, history, biology, sex, a n d “ e n l i g h t e n e d ” cocktail party conversation (Phenomenology V 1 , B , 1,a). A n d i f Science (Wissenschaft)

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

179

would retain the highest role i n Hegel’s scheme, i t might be anticipated that the sciences (physics i n particular) would be relegated t o a lower position. Hegel's own characterization of “philosophical Truth”—the sort o f Truth demanded b y Science (Wissenschaft)—1s that i t m u s t be “uncon-

ditioned.” The truths o f particular activities are “conditioned” by their contexts; for e x a m p l e — w h a t c o u n t s as “ a r t ” o r as “ g o o d a r t ” ( o r as

“bad art” o r as Kitsch) a t any given time is “conditioned” by the a r t world, by the c u r r e n t canons o f aesthetic taste, by the a r t market, b y the w o r k o f already established artists, by the words o f the critics.

Scientific truth, though sometimes thought

to

be “absolute” and “un-

conditioned,’ 1s also dependent o n the current criteria o f what Thomas

K u h n calls “normal science”—what hypotheses are considered sensible, which worth testing, what worth funding, who worth encouraging, and so o n . I t is also “conditioned” by the equipment available for testing and measuring, as well as the accepted standards o f evidence. Aristotle was n o t unreasonable i n the eyes o f his times because he trusted his reason m o r e than his senses, for example, i n considering

the question o f the relative speeds o f larger and smaller falling bodies. Even i f he had appreciated our more modern reliance on demonstrations, h e w o u l d n o t have h a d the instruments to carry o u t the

appropriate experiments. Thus science, like a r t , is merely “conditioned,” “true” only within some specified c o n t e x t o f opinions, theories, attitudes, a n d values. Philosophy, o n the other hand, is supposed to

be “unconditioned” in the sense that i t provides the c o n t e x t within

which all o f these o t h e r endeavors are defined; i t provides the goal toward which they a i m , l i k e eudaimonia i n Aristotle’s characterization

o f the good life. A n d yet, H e g e l seems m o r e aware than any other philosopher, be-

fore h i m o r since, o f the contextual dependencies o f philosophy as a n “expression o f the spirit o f its times.” H e r e again, we see that deep rift w h i c h k e e p s a p p e a r i n g i n Hegel, b e t w e e n h i s d e c l a r a t i o n s t h a t

philosophy is “absolute” (i.e. “unconditioned”) and his precocious recognition that i t t o o is a practice among other practices, “conditioned” b y its o w n history, “conditioned” b y the opinions a n d attitudes

o f the society i n which i t plays a n integral part, “conditioned” by the material exigencies which Marx and Engels would later declare t o be the “basis” for all ideology. But without trying t o resolve this tension, we can say simply that philosophy, for Hegel, is the ultimate context

which provides the goals for every human endeavor, a t any given point i n history. But this i n t u r n includes the whole o f human experience, the whole o f previous human history, the c o n t e x t o f all con-

180

Setting the Stage

texts, and ın that curious sense it is “unconditioned”. This all-embracing picture, the inner aspiration o f human consciousness t o comprehend

the w o r l d a n d itself, 1s called “Truth.”

Reason a n d Rationality . . . Reason is purposive activity. . . . i n the sense i n which Aristotle defines n a t u r e as purposive activity, purpose is what 1s immediate

and

at nology

rest, the unmoved which is also self-moving . .. —Phenome-

The concept o f “truth” is typically coupled, in almost every philosopher, with either “knowledge” o r “reason.” Typically, 1t is accompanied by both. But this seemingly sensible trinity had been thrown into disarray by the modern epistemologists—by Hume, who demonstrated that reason could n o t give us knowledge; and by Kant, who agreed i n a sense and added the even more mtolerable conclusion that the “truth” gained by knowledge was entirely different from things

as they are “in-themselves.” A n d since i t is almost a tautology t o say, as Aristotle s a i d , t h a t “ t o say o f what is, t h a t i t 1s, 1s t r u e , ” K a n t s e e m e d t o be saying the absurd (as Hegel would soon point out) that a belief can be “true” even i f i t has n o relation whatever t o the way things are

“Iin-themselves.” The concept o f “reason” takes a shift in Hegel's philosophy o f no less significance than does the concept o f “truth.” Hegel 1s often said to b e a “rationalist,” a n d i n opposition to t h e romantics a n d ntuition-

ists o f his day that c o n t r a s t makes a good deal o f sense. But Hegel 1s anything b u t a “rationalist” i n the sense attacked (as Hegel's own) by

Bertrand Russell in the first years o f this century, as the bloodless logician who thought that nothing existed but thoughts, and t h a t human life was essentially nothing but reason—that is, the manipulation o f concepts which applied, perhaps, t o nothing whatsoever. What Hegel means by “Reason” is n o t a strictly intellectual faculty—*"the ability t o do sums” quipped Lord Russell in a c o n t e x t i n which he was more knowledgeable. Reason means “purposive activity” and thus is to be found i n t h e v e r y n a t u r e o f intentional a c t i o n s o f a l l k i n d s ; i n d e e d ,

Hegel even equates i t with the inner forces o f life itself. Reason is the purposive activity o f which t r u t h is the goal. A n e v e n t

1s rational i f i t serves some purpose, attains some ideal. Thus i n his early works Hegel argued that a religion would be rational i f i t served t h e purpose o f morality. M o r a l i t y i n t u r n is r a t i o n a l i f i t s e r v e s t h e

The Phenomenology of Spirit

181

purpose o f communal spirit—unifies a Volk instead o f tearing them apart. T h e universe as a whole is rational, as K a n t argued tentatively

i n his third Critique, i f i t t o o 1s approaching some ideal, serving some purpose, realizing some internal goal. And the Phenomenology 1s a book whose purpose is t o show us, i n effect, the rationality o f the universe, the purpose a n d m e a n i n g o f h u m a n life as a whole. Reason, as Hegel

defined ıt i n his Differenz-essay o f 1801, 1s the demand for unity. Putting the t w o definitions together, we can conclude that, for Hegel, reason is the a i m o f the universe to unify itself. A n d since he accepts

the image o f the age o f the universe as essentially “Spirit” unfolding itself, through n a t u r e , through history and through human consciousness, i t followed for h i m (as for Aristotle and, m o r e immedi-

ately, Hölderlin) that 1t would be through a select particular human consciousness, perhaps even a Swabian assistant professor a t Jena, that this cosmic urge would finally attain its full realization. T h e desire to find a purpose for the universe, a n d reasons for everything i n i t , sounds o d d to us, with o u r uncompromising sense o f

contingency; but i n Hegel's time, this would have been virtually a matter o f common sense. I t was a desire that had its formal expression i n Leibniz’s Principle of Sufficient Reason (whatever happens, God has a reason for it), b u t i t h a d its roots i n the whole o f Western science—its

presupposition that the universe was rational and orderly—and i n religion too—in the presumption t h a t God has done everything for t h e best. (Indeed, Hegel's Phenomenology is sometimes called a “theodicy”’—the justification o f the ways o f God o n earth.) “Reason” and “rationality” refer both t o that conscious ability t o think abstractly and reach ultimate (“Absolute”) truth and t o the existence o f reasons for something. Notice that Hegel does n o t distinguish between there being reasons tor and our finding reasons for something; so long as the latter fit together i n the over-all picture there is n o difference between them. T h e reasons, after all, are ultimately our reasons, a n d there is n o difference, he would insist, between o u r having a reason a n d t h e r e being a reason, which is n o t at all to

say that we always know those reasons. That 1s why we need the

Phenomenology. (The unconscious was alive and well i n German philosophy years betore F r e u d , as he himself was the first to acknowl-

edge.) Notice t o o t h a t H e g e l d o e s n o t d i s t i n g u i s h , as K a n t d o e s , b e t w e e n

practical reason and theoretical reason. Following Fichte, Hegel denied this distinction and i n the Phenomenology defends the thesis that reasons for knowledge are, a t least i n part, practical reasons. Certain p a r t s o f t h e Phenomenology l e n d t h e m s e l v e s t o c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n as

182

Setting the Stage

“theoretical,” others as “practical,” but i t is essential n o t t o make t o o much o f this division. What we believe 1s part and parcel o f what we d o , a n d Hegel's continued insistence o n t h e “rationality o f Spirit,” which

is one formulation o f the over-all goal o f the Phenomenology, means both that Spirit is the abstract taculty o f theoretical reason and finding reasons, and that there 1s purpose i n Spirit's activities. I n d e e d , these ultimately are the same, i n Hegel as in Aristotle, for the grand pur-

pose i n the existence o f Spirit is its recognition o f its own reasons for being and, finally, the realization o f its total unity.

The Problem o f Knowledge a n d the Obviousness o f Idealism Weary o f dogmatism, which teaches us nothing, and o f scepticism, which does n o t even promise us anything—even the quiet state o f a contented ignorance—disquieted by the importance o f knowledge so much needed, and rendered suspicious by long experience o f so much knowledge which we believe we possess or which offers itself i n the name o f pure reason, there remains but one critical question on the answer t o which our future depends, namely “is Metaphysics a t all possible?” How is knowledge from pure reason possible? —Kant, Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics

Hegel says that his goal 1s “philosophical truth,” but what he talks about for the m o s t part is knowledge. The book begins, for example, with our most naive form o f knowledge (“sense certainty”) and ends, notably, with “absolute knowing.” I n a simple-minded, common-sense way, we might say that truth 1s what we know, and knowledge is our recognition o f i t ; o r we might say that the truth is “the facts” and “the things i n themselves” while our knowing is a conscious activity that somehow ( t h r o u g h the senses, t h r o u g h o u r use o f God-given Reason,

through mystical intuition) “grasps” and articulates the truth. But this simple-minded, common-sense distinction will n o t d o ; first o f all, because K a n t h a d b u i l t a n unbreachable wall between knowledge (or “understanding”), which h a d to d o with the objects constituted by

experience, and “the things i n themselves,” which we could n o t know a t all. And second, Kant’s formidable apparatus aside, the suggestion that truth 1s simply “there,” independent o f o u r cognitive activities, and the image o f consciousness “grasping tor” the truth, like a drunk i n the dark, lead inevitably—or so says Hegel—to the intolerable conclusion t h a t t r u t h a n d knowledge a r e quite d i s t i n c t , i n s e p a r a t e phil-

The Phenomenology of Spirit

183

osophical realms, the former ultimately inaccessible t o the latter. Thus, tor

Hegel, t r u t h a n d k n o w l e d g e must b e , i n

some sense, o n e a n d t h e

same thing, indistinguishable even i n theory. O n the one h a n d , Hegel sees that any h i n t o f a distinction between

truth o r “things in themselves” and knowledge o r “ o u r faculty for

grasping the truth” will lead inevitably

to

that philosophical bogey-

man, scepticism. A n d this h e considers a n absurdity. B u t o n the other hand, one cannot deny the common-sense idea, which is the first stage

of

t h e Phenomenology, t h a t “ t h e t r u t h

is for consciousness something

o t h e r than i t s e l f ” H i s answer, o f course, 1s the Kantian answer, that consciousness “determines” (from bestimmen, like Kant’s “constitutes”)

1ts objects as other than itself, but this is an answer that sounds plausible only while we are immersed i n the philosophy o f the period. Taking a step o u t o f the study, walking with H u m e to the billiard table, for instance, the very idea seems absurd, a b i t o f insanity. B u t

once again, we have t o look a t “the problem o f knowledge,” like the

“problem o f truth,” n o t as an immediate puzzlement but rather as a long development, starting from common sense but ultimately involvi n g the whole history o f conceptual thinking about knowledge and truth.

The specific steps trom common-sense certainty t o the Kantian view take u p the introduction and first several chapters of the Phenomenology, and we will discuss them a t length in Chapters 6 and 7. B u t we can encapsulate Hegel's analysis i n a few paragraphs, a t least enough t o show how his view o f “phenomenology” and “absolute knowing” is a n answer to b o t h the p r o b l e m o f Truth (“What is Truth?”) a n d the

problem o f knowledge ( “ H o w can we know the Truth?”) which t u r n o u t to be, for the post-Kantian idealist, exactly the same question.

Hegel's whole approach t o these epistemological questions t u r n s on presumptions that he shared with almost every other thinker of

two

his times, indeed, with most philosophers today too. T h e first is that

knowledge begins with experience, that o u r c o n t a c t with the truth 1s i n some sense by way o f consciousness. The most dramatic and explicit s t a t e m e n t o f this position, o f course, begins with Descartes’s famous cogito—"I t h i n k , therefore I am”—from which h e attempts to

derive the whole edifice o f his knowledge about God and the “external” world. But one c a n perform major surgery o n the Cartesian position, removing the “ I ” and radically altering what is meant by “think”

and “am” as well, without killing the position itself. Hegel and Kant are both often treated as antagonists o f Cartesianism, but regarding this basic s t a r t i n g point, i t n e v e r w o u l d have o c c u r r e d to e i t h e r o f

Setting the Stage

184

them t o question it. Thus the Phenomenology begins, like the first Critigue, with the declaration that, i n Kant’s words, “all knowledge begins with experience. Science” (1.e. Hegel's philosophy) 1s “the Science o f 7

66

the experience o f consciousness” (Phenomenology, 88).

The second presumption is Hegel's common-sensical insistence that scepticism 1s an absurdity, n o t a position worth refuting, n o t a position worth considering, n o matter h o w persuasive the arguments. Indeed,

the very suggestion that we might n o t know the world as i t is “initself” 1s, for Hegel, suthcient t o throw into question the whole system o f t h i n k i n g that could produce such a n absurdity. F o r m o s t o f the h i s t o r y o f p h i l o s o p h y , t h e r e f o r e , H e g e l sees a n e n o r m o u s p r o b l e m ,

some gigantic underlying confusion that must be taken care o f before the Phenomenology even begins. A n d even i n Kant’s philosophy, which Hegel c o n s i d e r s t o b e t h e final a n s w e r t o t h e sceptic, t h e r e is still t h e

residual “thing-in-itself,” distinct from the objects o f o u r experience, which introduces the possibility o f a new scepticism. Thus, following

Fichte, Hegel eliminates this t o o , n o t by denying that we can know “things-in-themselves,”—which would be precisely the sceptical reply—but by insisting that the objects o f our experience are the “thingsin-themselves.” T h e only question, then, is n o t whether o u r knowledge conforms to the “things-in-themselves” ( o r “ t h e Absolute”), b u t

rather whether our knowledge is an adequate set o f “determinations” and a comprehensible view o f what i t 1s that we know. I n Hegel's jargon, “absolute knowing” is the ultimately adequate way o f knowing the Absolute. T h e most adequate theory o f knowledge is one that (a)

does not even raise the question whether we know things as they really are and (b) can a c c o u n t for o u r experience i n the best way possible. But this last claim needs a proviso: Hegel and the post-Kantian idealists are not, like the self-consciously “common-sense idealists” o f the Enlightenment, trying merely t o recapture everyday certainties i n philosophical theories. They are also trying t o reform our more ordinary experience into something spectacular, so t h a t even the most mundane activities begin t o take on the conceptual glow o f the grand metaphor t h a t permeates Hegel's whole philosophy, borrowed directly from Hölderlin, i n which every experience is an expression o f the human Spirit, writ large, manifesting and realizing itself through each o f us. A poet, however, can state such a metaphor baldly, as a metaphor,

an inspiration, an imaginative vision; from a philosopher, the same s t a t e m e n t seems t o b e n o n s e n s e , h o w e v e r familiar i t m a y h a v e b e e n at the

time. Thus Hegel insists o n “ d e m o n s t r a t i n g ” t h e t r u t h o f this his w a y o f doing so is the v e r y unpoetic s t r a t e g y o f re-

metaphor, and

The Phenomenology of Spirit

185

examining the problems o f knowledge and truth as they have emerged

and become submerged i n philosophy, i n Kant’s philosophy in particular. H e begins with the t w o unquestionable presumptions: that knowledge begins with experience and that scepticism 1s an unthinkable absurdity, and he then goes on t o show how Hélderlin’s vision ultimately follows as philosophical Truth. I f knowledge begins with experience, then either the objects we claim t o know are themselves “in” experience, or else they are n o t . I f they are not, t h e n the argument belongs to the sceptic, w h o will have n o trouble, a t every step, arguing that we can never know i f indeed

our experiences “correspond”

to

the objects themselves. But scepti-

cism is absurd, according to Hegel. I t follows that objects o f knowle d g e m u s t b e wholly w i t h i n t h e r e a l m o f consciousness. Thus, g i v e n

this choice o f positions, idealism—the view that objects a r e in some sense “ i n ” or dependent on consciousness—becomes the obvious preference. B u t one still m u s t account for the tact that objects seem to be “ o t h e r t h a n consciousness,” “outside o f us, in the w o r l d ” a n d this 1s

where Kant comes in with his theory o f “constitution.” And one must still explain the fact that there seem to be aspects o f consciousness which are n o t dependent o n o u r activities b u t apparently “given” to us; Kant explains this by reference t o the things themselves “outside o f experience,” w h i c h cause u s to have sensations w h i c h w e t h e n or-

ganize into objects o f knowledge in consciousness. But Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel consider this just so much double-talk; either the obJects we determine are the objects themselves, or they are n o t . I f they are not, the sceptic re-emerges, which is intolerable. So the objects we determine are the only objects, a n d the sensations which seem to be

caused in us m u s t i n fact be a product o f conscious activity t o o . B u t

since 1t 1s obvious that we do n o t individually produce sensations i n ourselves (which would be another absurdity), i t m u s t be the case t h a t they are produced by some agency inside o f us (rather t h a n by objects “ i n themselves” outside o f us). B u t i t is also obvious that all o f us ( o r at least, almost all) have (more o r less) the same kinds o f experiences

and experience the same objects, which means that the inner agency that produces o u r experiences must be a universal agency, common to all o f us. A n d here, o f course, 1s Hegel's “Spirit,” Holderlin’s Absolute,

detended n o t as a poetic image but as the inescapable conclusion o f a series o f arguments beginning with the apparently indisputable presumption t h a t knowledge begins with experience and the refusal t o take scepticism seriously, together with the m o s t obvious facts o f human experience, namely, t h a t we all seem t o experience m o r e o r less the same objects and we do n o t individually produce o u r experiences

186

Setting the Stage

a t will. Idealism, i n some sense to b e refined, becomes a n obvious

solution

to

the problems o f truth and knowledge.

IDEALISM AND A NOTE ON THE NEW PHYSICS

What we perceive t o be physical reality is actually our cognitive construction o f it. —Gary Zukov, The Dancing Wu-Li Masters

Idealism is the view that reality depends on o u r ideas. A n idealist need n o t believe that objects are ideas (the “subjective idealism” o f Bishop George Berkeley) o r that objects are thereby the product o f o u r i n d i v i d u a l m i n d s (even George Berkeley, as well as Leibniz, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, insisted that objects are n o t dependent o n o u r

particular m i n d s b u t o n some universal m i n d , G o d o r “spirit”). I n deed, o n Hegel's version, what idealism ( o r “absolute idealism”) u l u -

mately comes down

to

is the rejection of the distinctions between mind

a n d matter, experience and reality, consciousness a n d ıts objects,

knowledge and truth. A n d this follows, through something like the argument we have sketched above, from the two innocent presump-

tions, that knowledge begins with experience and that scepticism 1s absurd. Idealism seems most absurd when confronting a physical object; the great Dr. Johnson thought that he had retuted Berkeley by kicking a s t o n e . Thus there is some philosophical as well as poetic justice i n the fact that physics, so long the last refuge o f materialists and determinists, has come a r o u n d to the Hegelian idealist position. “To

be is t o be observed” has become almost a platitude i n the circles o f the new physics, according t o John Wheeler, who for years worked with Einstein a t Princeton. “ I t was n o t possible t o formulate the laws o f q u a n t u m mechanics i n a fully consistent way without reference to

consciousness,” writes the physics Nobel-laureate Eugene Wigner in his “Remarks on the Mind-Body Question,” and he concludes with an ironic remark t o the effect that the physical study o f the world may have led us t o conclude that the content o f consciousness itself is the

ultimate reality. Several popular writers (F. Capra i n The Tao of Physics and Gary Zukov i n The Dancing Wu-Li Masters) have pointed o u t the athnities between the new physics and the more spiritual speculations o f the Eastern mystics, b u t m o r e i m p o r t a n t i f less exotic is the resemblance o f the new theories o f q u a n t u m mechanics to some o f o u r o w n “Western” philosophers, who a t the time seemed t o be fighting a losing 34. The Dancing Wu-Li Masters (New York: Morrow, 1979), p. 105.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

187

battle against the forces o f Newtonian mechanics. But if the Newton1an view o f “absolute space a n d time” h e l d sway for a while, the more Leibnizian-Kantian-Hegelian view that space a n d time are strictly “ r e -

lative” t o the observer has n o w become almost unchallengable, and the physicist Werner Heisenberg has gone so far as t o claim that space and time are n o t h i n g b u t “ t h e contents o f o u r minds.” Hegel’s u t t e r

rejection o f any distinction between consciousness and its objects is supported by John Wheeler, who writes— May the universe i n some strange sense be ‘brought into being’ by the participation o f those who participate? . . . The vital act is the act of participation. ‘Participator’ is the incontrovertible new concept given by quantum mechanics. I t strikes down the t e r m ‘observer’ of classical theory, the man who stands safely behind the thick glass wall and watches what goes o n without taking part. I t can’t be done, quantum mechanics s a y s . *

Hegel’s idealism i n general, his view that there is no physical world apart from the determinations o f human consciousness, 1s stated in even stronger terms by the physicist H e n r y Stapp: I f the attitude o f q u a n t u m mechanics is correct, i n the strong sense t h a t a description o f the substructure underlying experience more complete than the one i t provides is n o t possible, then there is no substantive physical world, i n the usual sense of this t e r m . The conclusion here is n o t the weak conclusion that there may n o t be a substantive physical world but rather that there definitely is n o t a substantive physical w o r l d>

One might well picture Hegel's spirit, having weathered

two

cen-

turies o f scientific materialism, chuckling absolutely a t this latest t u r n o f events. Idealism has n o w become the “ t r u t h ” o f materialism, a n d

consciousness, the starting point o f physical knowledge, now seems to

have also become its conclusion.

“The Absolute” Every m a n has his o w n truth, Yet t r u t h 1s one.

— Goethe

What is “the Absolute”? O n t h e one hand, i t means nothing m o r e

than “reality”—that is, the world as i t is “ i n itself”— a n d Hegel’s de35. John Wheeler, Gravitation (San Francisco: Freeman, 1973), p. 1273, quoted i n

Zukov, 36. Henry Stapp, from “ M i n d , Matter and Quantum Mechanics,” quoted i n Zukov, p . 105.

188

Setting the Stage

mand for “absolute knowledge” thus becomes no more than the

common-sense ınsistence that what we know ıs indeed real, not a dream, n o t a m e r e s w a r m o f sensations a n d i d e a s , n o t a m e r e c o n s t r u c t i o n o f

conscrousness which may or may n o t correspond t o the way things really are. O n the other hand, “the Absolute” 1s t o o pretentious a word n o t t o carry with i t the m o s t profound suggestions o f divinity. So, “ t h e Absolute” refers

to

reality; and ı t can refer to G o d or, i n

Hegel, “Spirit” A n d much o f the problem for m o s t American and English philosophers consists i n the systematic conflation o f these t w o meanings, which, i n Hegel and Hölderlin i n particular, is precisely the point. God is nothing other than reality, but reality itself should be experienced i n the exciting quasi-religious t e r m s o f absolute Spirit, infusing everything. “Absolute” also means “unqualified” o r “unconditioned.” I n a per-

fectly ordinary sense, knowledge

cannot

be absolute unless i t is free

from “conditions” —for example, not a n attempt to please the pope

or prime minister or t o publish i n a certain prestigious professional journal. Knowledge c a n n o t be “absolute” unless it does n o t depend o n a particular cultural o r intellectual context, i n other words, unless

it 1s simply “true,” rather than mere personal opinions, provincial biases, or just another philosophical viewpoint. But in addition t o these minimal negative requirements, the concept o f “the Absolute” and absolute knowledge also includes a more problematic set of demands which have emerged throughout the history of philosophy—indeed they are t o be found even i n the Greek pre-Socratic philosophers—but which found their definitive formulation (by 1800) i n Kant. T h e Absolute, the unconditioned, h a d to be “boundless,” infinite, unaffected b y any-

thing “outside” o f itself. For Kant, therefore, objects o f knowledge were irreducibly “conditioned” by objects “ i n themselves” affecting o u r senses, b u t the objects “ i n themselves,” k n o w n immediately only by God, w o u l d be “unconditioned.” What followed, o f course, was

that we were incapable of knowing the Absolute; only God could know that. T h e n too, K a n t insisted that the Absolute, the unconditioned,

be utterly undivided, “unmediated,” unlike his division of the realms o f human life into cognitive and practical realms. Again, only must

G o d c o u l d k n o w these as a unity; for us, t h i s ultimate u n i t y c o u l d b e

only a m a t t e r o f rational faith, an ideal but n o t knowledge. T h e conclusion, that we cannot k n o w the Absolute, cannot know the world “ i n itself,” struck most o f Kant’s followers and critics as u n -

acceptable. What they did accept was the basic Kantian argument, t h a t absolute knowledge could n o t be “conditioned” by either the senses o r b y t h e fixed c o n c e p t s o f t h e u n d e r s t a n d i n g , a n d so, i n o n e set o f

189

The Phenomenology of Spirit

bold moves, Jacobi, Schleiermacher, and Schelling, a m o n g many others, advanced the conclusion that the Absolute c o u l d n o t be k n o w n t h r o u g h concepts at all. Hegel’s whole argument, o n the other hand,

1s that the Absolute can be known and it “can be grasped only through the Concept.”

Insofar as “absolute knowledge” means “knowing the Absolute,” 1.e. knowing reality as i t is “ i n itself,” Hegel’s search is unobjectionable, even part a n d parcel o f common sense, however formidable the ter-

minology. But for Hegel and the idealists, reality “ i n itself” includes, i n fact 1s based u p o n , consciousness, and so the ideal o f “absolute knowing” also means recognizing reality as ( i n some sense) deter-

mined by consciousness, through concepts. This thesis is surely peculiar t o common sense, b u t nevertheless, i t follows from the tenets o f idealism i n general, as we have already argued. T h e p r o b l e m w i t h “absolute knowledge” becomes apparent, however, when we see that

Hegel

wants t o

claim much m o r e

than

the reasonable proposal that

we k n o w reality t h r o u g h o u r concepts. H e is n o t just talking about

knowledge of the Absolute; he 1s also talking about a special kind o f knowledge, which itself is absolute. I t is one thing t o say, as the Greeks too said l o n g ago, that reality—whatever i t is—is everything; i t is some-

thing else t o say that o u r knowledge o f reality can be unlimited. Since the Greeks, this special kind o f knowledge has received a special name— nous o r “ i n t e l l e c t u a l i n t u i t i o n . ” Indeed, i t 1s nous t h a t K a n t grants to

God, and nous that Jacobi and Schelling claim for themselves. But Hegel will n o t have this. For him, the unconditioned m u s t be “grasped through the Concept.” T h i s w o u l d seem t o be u n d e r m i n e d b y Hegel's o w n arguments. Concepts are b y their very nature “mediating”; they create opposi-

tions and distinctions. They divide u p and give certain form

to

their

subject matter. T h e y a r e a l w a y s c o n t e x t - b o u n d , t i e d t o o t h e r concepts

through language and (though Hegel is ambiguous on this) bound t o particular cultural c o n t e x t s and experiences—“forms o f consciousness.” O f course, one can increasingly empty certain concepts o f all c o n t e n t or fill them with everything—which similarly deprives them o f their c o n c r e t e usefulness. T h e n we emerge with that set o f categories and “ideas” which i n Kant’s philosophy represent the conceptual limits o f all experience. B u t insofar as these concepts have any determinate content, by Hegel's own insistence, they are also divisive a n d “ m e d i a t i n g ” ; they condition o u r knowledge. A n d this means that the only “unconditioned” concepts are wholly empty, o r wholly full, with which we can assert nothing at all. Indeed, this again is the source o f Hegel’s j i b e at Schelling, “ t h e n i g h t i n which a l l cows are b l a c k ” ;

190

Setting the Stage

what does one say by asserting “reality 1s everything” or “all is one”? Absolute knowing, therefore, becomes a strictly negative set of requirements—not divided, n o t affected from the outside, n o t contextbound, n o t dependent o n the senses. “The Absolute” sounds like a spectacular philosophical object, but as “reality” (lower-case “r”) it loses something o f its glamour. Insofar as “absolute knowing” means simply knowing reality, i t is something quite ordinary, indeed (as Hegel reminds his philosophical colleagues) it is something m o s t animals seem t o possess a t least as much as many philosophers. Insofar as “absolute knowing” is the mere philosophical facility t o know that o n e knows reality, Hegel's “Absolute” has a bit more substance (vis-a-vis the sceptics, for instance) b u t i t still deserves less than the star-status

i t has often received. Insofar as “absolute knowing” is supposed

to

mean “ k n o w i n g reality unconditionally,” however, the historicist H e -

gelian conclusion (versus the absolutist Hegelian conclusion) m u s t be that there 1s n o such possibility. We might know absolutely that what we know is reality (at least, after reading certain philosophical treatises) b u t we k n o w reality only w i t h i n a particular intellectual, cul-

tural, and linguistic context, never “unconditionally” Our concept o f reality might be unconditional, but only insofar as i t is wholly uninformative (as i n “Reality 1s”, a derivative G e r t r u d e Stemnism). Apart from such empty claims, there are no context-free knowledge claims. ( I n deed, doesn’t “Reality 1s” depend o n certain concepts a n d grammat-

ical oddities o f English and the verb “to be” n o t found i n many other languages?) What is “grasped through the Concept” is the realization that all forms o f consciousness are part o f the same grand tapestry o f human experience, different perspectives o f the same reality, which has n o existence o r form apart from those perspectives a n d that tapestry o f experience. What is unconditional—if anything is—is o u r sense that i t makes n o sense t o deny that what we k n o w is reality. B u t reality itself a n d o u r knowledge o f i t is always “conditioned.” Hegel some-

times suggests that the Absolute is an ideal, but i t is an impossible ideal, despite the fact that he claims t o have actually achieved it a t the end o f the Phenomenology. One might t u r n around and call this knowledge that there is n o unconditional knowledge “absolute knowing”, b u t that

is just playing with paradox.?’” And when Hegel finishes off the Phenomenology with just such a paradox, we might say that his academic 37. Paradoxes regarding universal claims have always been the favorite source o f inspiration t o logicians, inspiring such works o f genius as Russell's theory of types and G o d e l ’ s incompleteness p r o o f — n o t

t o m e n t i o n t h e p u z z l e s o f L e w i s Carroll. F o r ex-

ample, one says, innocently enough, “Don’t believe anything I say i n this book . . . , and t h e game is s t a r t e d . T h e metaphysical version, unfortunately, i s n o t s o n e a t and

elegant, and lends itself m o r e

t o obscurity t h a n t o c r i s p p a r a d o x e s as

such.

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

191

expectations got the better o f his historicist insights. I n the end, “ t h e Absolute” is Just a word.>®

FROM THE ABSOLUTE TO ABSOLUTE RELATIVISM:

T H E W O R L D AS C O N T R A D I C T I O N

All this is i n some sense true, as i t is i n some ways false. —St. Augustine

Between the innocent sense o f “knowing the Absolute” as the claim that w e do i n fact know reality as i t really 1s, and the n o t a t all innocent sense o f “absolute k n o w i n g ” as a divine standpoint, without limits o r

conditions, there 1s a much more

concrete

and useful conception of

“Absolute”, which 1s m u c h m o r e t h a n common-sense realism b u t

thankfully less than the tedious metaphysical disputes concerning “the A l l ” I n this sense, “absolute knowledge” means “unconditioned” in the straightforward sense we mentioned before, “unconditioned” by

any particular s e t o f experiences, n o t restricted t o some strictly personal perspectives, n o t context-bound t o any particular culture o r worldview. A n d i n this sense, m o s t philosophers have been “spokesmen for the Absolute,” insofar as they claimed t o be saying something t r u e o f reality, o r h u m a n consciousness, as such, rather than simply expressi n g the peculiarities o f the French, o r English, o r Javanese m i n d . It is

certainly noteworthy that the strongest claims o f this kind in modern times appeared when a n d where they d i d , made by G e r m a n writers who, for the most part, h a d never even visited B e r l i n , m u c h less Paris o r any o f the m o r e exotic anthropological climates o f the world. The c l a i m t o “ a b s o l u t e k n o w l e d g e ” 1s, o n t h i s reading, t h e transcendental

p r e t e n s e t h a t o n e c a n , e v e n i n a p r o v i n c i a l t o w n i n Württemberg,

reach o u t and grasp the n a t u r e o f reality, unbiased and “unconditioned” by the limitations o f one’s education and experience. I f the claim t o “absolute knowledge” is a claim about the only possible view that o n e c a n hold about the n a t u r e o f reality and human experience, i t 1s obviously false, since Hegel himself shows u s several dozen viewpoints which are n o t absolute (even if, in his words, they

frequently “imply” the absolute viewpoint). I f Hegel is claiming instead that this is the logical o u t c o m e o f the whole tradition o f “Western” philosophy, and i n particular the Cartesian insistence on the pri38. I n a n s w e r t o s u c h o b j e c t i o n s t o “ t h e A b s o l u t e , ” James Ogilvy h a s s u g g e s t e d t h a t “ t h e A b s o l u t e ” m u s t include t h e c o n c e p t o f i t s o w n incompletion, thus calling u p a n u m b e r o f familiar t h e o l o g i c a l p a r a d o x e s i n a d d i t i o n t o t h e p a r a d o x e s o f t o t a l i t y m e n t i o n e d a b o v e . See h i s “Reflections o n t h e A b s o l u t e . ” Review o f Metaphysics, v o l . 2 8 , n o . 3 ( M a r c h 1975).

192

Setting the Stage

macy o f consciousness, I t h i n k the claim is at least arguable, perhaps even

true,

But what Hegel has i n mind, I think, is n o t so much a view

o f reality (as spirit manifesting itself through each o f us and determ i n i n g the world through its concepts, etc.) as a view about views. I n

other words, what “absolute knowledge” amounts t o is the view that reality can be comprehended only through the totality o f different viewpoints—indeed, reality consists wholly o f the totality o f viewpoints. B u t this could also mean that there is n o single “correct” viewpoint (except the viewpoint that there 1s n o single “correct” viewpoint). Some viewpoints inevitably are going to be mutually contradictory, which means that even t h o u g h they are recognized as equally legiti-

mate views o f reality, they cannot be reconciled, cannot be made compatible. They co-exist, a t best, i n their mutual recognition o f their equal validity. Ideally, Hegel hopes, there 1s an underlying structure that renders them all compatible. More likely, they remain convinced o f the utter falsehood o f the other. This nest o f conflicting views and contradictions, taken all together, is the Absolute.

The above is one way o f stating Hegel's most famous single claim— t h a t the world itself is contradictory, b u t p h i l o s o p h y , t h r o u g h reason, i s

capable o f reconciling such contradictions. But the first part o f the claim is misleading, a t best, while the second part is inaccurate, a t least.

A simple way o f putting the problem is t o say that if, as Hegel argues, there is n o reality apart from consciousness, then reality is relative to consciousness, that is, defined by the concepts through which we conceive o f it. But since people c a n and do conceive o f the world

i n radically different ways, i t would seem t o follow either

itself is contradictory

o r that

there a r e different

realities.

If

that

“the

reality Truth”

(die Wahrheit, “philosophical” o r “Absolute” Truth) means a total com-

prehensiveness which includes all possible viewpoints, i f all “forms o f consciousness” have their o w n t r u t h (das Wahre), then the Truth must in some sense consist o f contradictory t r u t h s . Ironically, i f “ t h e A b solute” 1s Hegel's guarantee that there can be n o separation o f reality and consciousness, the conclusion seems t o be t h a t reality is relative

consciousness and—the whole of traditional metaphysics aside— there may be n o single way the world really is, after all. Two standard replies have been provided for Hegel, although neither o f them is actually his own. The first is t o insist that his “Absolute” does resolve these various contradictions by showing how each to

that

side 1s ın fact a “ o n e - s i d e d ” view o f the matter; t h e second is to h o l d that,

despite the horror o f the logicians, Hegel accepts t h e conclusion

that i t 1s the world, a n d n o t only o u r opinions about i t , that is c o n t r a dictory. Contradictions, i n other words, are real a n d “ i n the world.”

The Phenomenology of Spirit

193

The first reply is eminently reasonable, but i t saves Hegel’s “Absolute” only by denying its claim t o be all inclusive. There may or may n o t be a viewpoint i n which contradictions a r e resolved, and o n e may o r may n o t find i t i n the last chapter o f Hegel's Phenomenology. But Hegel's claim is that his philosophy includes the contradictions, as contradictions, even i f what h e also gives us is a viewpoint (which 1s not, h e w o u l d insist, merely a viewpoint) from which we can understand b o t h sides a n d see beyond them. Contradictions are real, a n d what

follows is that the Absolute, i f it is n o t t o degenerate into simpleminded pluralism (“all views are true”), must include contradictory views o f the world, a contradictory world.

The second reply is eminently absurd. Consistency may be the h o b g o b l i n o f l i t t l e m i n d s , as o n e n e o - H e g e l i a n w i t h a s written, b u t

flat-out contradiction is another matter. Aristotle stated the definitive objection t o 1t i n his Metaphysics, 2500 years betore Hegel: . . . i t 1s impossible for anyone t o suppose that the same thing is and 1s n o t . . . then clearly i t 1s impossible for the same man t o suppose a t the same time that the same thing is and is not; for the man who made this error would entertain t w o contrary opinions a t the same time. Hence all men who are demonstrating anything refer back t o this as an ultimate belief; for i t 1s by n a t u r e the starting-point o f all the other axioms as well. Some, indeed, d e m a n d to have the law proved, b u t this is because

they lack education; for i t shows lack o f education n o t t o know o f what we should require proof, and o f what we should n o t . For it is quite impossible that everything should have a proof; the process would go on t o infinity, so that even so there would be no proof. I f on the other hand there are some things o f which no proof need be sought, they c a n n o t say what principle they think t o be more selfevident. E v e n i n the case o f this law, however, we can demonstrate

the impossibility o f refutation, i f only our opponent makes some statement. I f h e makes none, i t is absurd to seek f o r a n argument

against one who has no arguments of his own about anything, i n so far as he has none; for such a person, i n so far as he is such, is really no better than a vegetable.

Hegel has

to

accept the existence o f contradictions i n the world

and, as a consequence o f his own thesis that consciousness and reality cannot

be distinguished, he will have t o

accept

the idea that the world

itself is contradictory, o r that there is n o single world. B u t this does n o t mean that h e accepts contradictions, the intelligibility o f one a n d

the same proposition being both t r u e and false. Neither 1s he simply dismissing contradictions as misunderstandings, t h a t is, thinking a 39. Aristotle, Metaphysics, t r a n s . H . Tredennick (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 1933), Bk. IV.

194

Setting the Stage

proposition 1s both true and false because o f different meanings, different interpretations, different perspectives. H e c a n n o t simply reject contradictory viewpoints; neither can he simply accept them. The key t o this paradox, obviously, is i n the word “simply.” The age-old insistence o n consistency should itself be subjected t o a c e r t a i n sceptical e x a m i n a t i o n , a n d i n d e e d , since

Hegel, i t

has. Walt

W h i t m a n once wrote, So I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself. ( I a m large, I contain multitudes.)

H e was a poet, a n d so n o champion o f consistency. B u t then we read L u d w i g Wittgenstein, in 1930, writing that “ I predict a time when

there will be mathematical investigations o f calculi containing contradictions, and people will actually be proud o f having emancipated themselves from consistency.” And very recently there has been a powerful m o v e m e n t within the realm o f logic itself, with its poles oddly placed between Pittsburgh and Melbourne, Australia, which has developed just such a logic (or rather, logics) o f inconsistency. Richard Routley, i n Melbourne, Nicholas Rescher and Robert Brandom i n Pittsburgh, together with David Lewis at Princeton (a regular visitor at Melbourne) have developed a

“logic o f inconsistency”— what Lewis calls “a logic for equivocators”— which includes the possibility o f real contradictions, and the rejection o f both “the law o f the excluded middle” (“a proposition is either t r u e o r false”) and “the law o f contradiction” (“a proposition c a n n o t be both t r u e and false”).*9 One central insight is that propositions (statements, beliefs, o r views) are always context-dependent or, i n slightly dif-

ferent language, relevance-dependent. The techniques are formidable, but the o u t c o m e is clear: that Hegel's idea that reality c a n be contradictorily and truly described—which is t o say that reality itself can truly be said t o be contradictory—is a t least an intelligible thesis. I t may still be the case that no proposition c a n be said t o be both true a n d false i n the same context at the same time, b u t the whole

point o f Hegel's “dialectic” is t o make the point that we are very rarely in the same c o n t e x t when serious conceptual disputes emerge. Dilthey summarized the point some years later, 40. For what I understand o f these “logics o f inconsistency,” I am indebted t o RobNola (Auckland University) and, especially, David K . Lewis. Texts I have consulted are: Nicholas Rescher and Robert Brandom, The Logic of Inconsistency (Oxford: Black-

ert

well, 1980); R i c h a r d Routley, Exploring Meinong’s Jungle and Beyond (Canberra: Austra-

lian National University, 1980), and David K . Lewis, “Logic for Equivocators” (Nous, forthcoming).

195

The Phenomenology of Spirit I t was t o Hegel’s credit t h a t i n

his l o g i c h e

t r i e d t o express t h e restless

s t r e a m o f e v e n t s . B u t h e was m i s t a k e n w h e n h e t h o u g h t t h a t

this

could n o t be reconciled with the principle o f contradiction . . . * !

To say that “ a proposition c a n n o t be both t r u e and false at the same time ( i n the same context)” is n o t to say very m u c h ; indeed, it is the

limitation o f that long-standing absolute claim and the e x t r e m e restrictions and qualifications that a r e required t o make i t always t u r n o u t t o be t r u e that provoke the more radical logical investigation o f contradiction. A n d this is the subject matter as well as the “method” o f the Phenomenology. W h a t Hegel 1s a r g u i n g is, I believe, a thesis that seems to us quite

plausible, but which

must

have seemed like an absurdity—on a par

w i t h scepticism—to h i m . T h e thesis is what we call “relativism,” which means i n the innocent sense the thesis that reality 1s relative to o u r ways o f conceiving o f i t . This is the shared belief o f all idealists, h o w ever, and i t is wholly compatible w i t h the insistence that there 1s b u t

one possible way o f conceiving o f the world (for example, one set of categories, as in Kant, or one single-minded underlying world-spirit, as in Schelling). The innocent sense gives way t o a more polemical sense when one allows, with Fichte and Hegel, the possibility that t h e r e i s a v a r i e t y o f ways o f c o n c e i v i n g o f t h e world, for t h e n w e s e e m

forced to the conclusion that there may be a variety o f worlds, a n d n o single world, “ i n itself,” at all. This polemical sense suggests a vulgar

non-sense—a perennial favorite among undergraduates nonetheless—that different opinions a r e equally t r u e , equally valid, and need have nothing whatever t o do with o n e another. Hegel utterly rejects this vulgar view; h e accepts the innocent sense b u t h e is o f mixed opinions about the second, m o r e polemical sense. As a n “absolute idealist” w i t h the ambition o f t u r n i n g K a n t into a “system,” i t 1s incum-

bent upon h i m t o demonstrate the single unity o f all the various forms o f human experience. But as a phenomenologist and a dialectician, a n enthusiast for the variety o f forms o f experience, h e finds

himself increasingly drawn t o the conclusion that there are any number o f ways t o view the world, each o f them seemingly self-contained i f n o t ultimately adequate, and that no view has the ability t o replace all the others. Moreover, some views will forever be at odds with each other even i f (as H e g e l shows) they could n o t exist without one another. As a n absolute idealist, H e g e l has to show that contradictions are only apparent, that there is, after all, a single coherent view o f the 41. Wilhelm Dilthey: Selected Writings, t r a n s . H.P. Richman (Cambridge, 1970), p .

200. Quoted by Rescher and Brandom, p. i. Same source for Wittgenstein and Whitman quotes above.

196

Setting the Stage

world; as a dialectian, h e sees the n e e d to recognize t h e reality o f

these contradictions. And because he also believes that the views we have o f the w o r l d determine the world, he also sees the need to rec-

ognize the reality o f these different worlds (in his words, “changes i n the Concept are a t the same time changes i n 1ts object”).“ This is n o t simply confusion; i t is brilliant confusion (as Hegel commented on a similar topic i n Kant). What Hegel has discovered is the real significance o f Kant’s revolution, what i t means to say that we determine the w o r l d t h r o u g h o u r concepts. F o r what this means is t h a t the idea o f a single, unified, determinate world is itself but a single ideal, a bit o f philosophical wishful thinking, and that the ob-

vious facts o f h u m a n life show us quite clearly (especially in 1806)

that the world is i n chaos, that contradiction is not just a philosophers problem but manifest as well in the reality o f the international situat i o n , t h e state o f scientific k n o w l e d g e , t h e newest paradoxes i n m o -

rality and religion. A n d yet, one can, from a philosophical point o f

view, appreciate nevertheless the unity o f all this confusion. The Absolute, finally, 1s that momentary comprehension o f the whole cosmic

struggle, the simultaneous appreciation for the enormous variety o f human forms o f experience, which one can a t m o s t hope might be brought into some mutual recognition and understanding. Thus J. N . Findlay finally calls Hegel's philosophy a “relative Absolutism,” but I would rather say, a n absolute relativism—the u t t e r impossibility o f denying a n irreducible plurality o f possible human experiences and, consequently, possible human worlds. But Hegel himself couldn't even consider this conclusion, and though he established i t more brilliantly than anyone ever has in his Phenomenology, he felt compelled t o deny i t with his unproven appeal t o the Absolute, that ideal conceptual harmony that was so visibly absent i n finite human affairs. After Dorothy's discovery, the Wizard still had a career to carry on.

Spirit and Self-Identity Thus i t can be said that the best statement o f the fundamental project o f human reality is that being which aims t o become God. —Sartre, Being a n d Nothingness

The subject

matter

o f the Phenomenology, from its title

to

its closing

quotation from Schiller, 1s Spirit, Geist. Spirit a n d Absolute are the same, as the “all,” a n d H e g e l sometimes talks o f “absolute Spirit.” N o w 4 2 . See, for e x a m p l e , R e s c h e r a n d B r a n d o m , Sect. 17.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

197

it is undeniable that “spirit” has inescapable religious connotations, and i n the Logic, Hegel openly equates Geist (and “the Idea”) with God. I n Hölderlin’s grand metaphor, “Spirit” or “the Absolute” clearly refers to a divine source that is more than h u m a n , even i f its ultimate

expression is a few human poets. B u t the suggestion o f divinity

must

not distract us from the most essential feature o f Hegel's Geist, namely,

that i t is ultimately the human spirit, the spirit of humanaty. O n e might, say, w i t h a quick qualification, that “Spirit” is the “subject” side o f the Absolute. ( T h e qualification, o f course, is that subject

and object are ultimately identical, and Hegel elsewhere refers t o them respectively as “subjective Subject-Object” and “objective SubjectObject.”) Spirit is the consciousness that knows itself, and so every twist and t u r n i n the history of philosophy regarding knowledge and t r u t h is at the same time a twist a n d t u r n i n o u r conception o f o u r -

selves. Thus the history of philosophy is also a kind of auto-biography, a Bildung i n which humanity as whole comes t o understand itself. T h e

Phenomenology is essentially our collective memoirs, clarifying finally what we now find that we are. So viewed, the Phenomenology is a treatise o n self-identity, what each o f us, a n d all o f us, o u g h t to think o f ourselves.

There is another metaphor here, mixed sometimes uncomfortably with the Bildung metaphor, which has long played an important role i n German philosophy. I t is the image o f the self as a self-enclosed

unity, reaching o u t t o the world but never really getting outside of itself. For the sociable French, this was considered “the egocentric predicament”; for the amiable English and Americans, the same image was considered an ultimate absurdity, called “solipsism.” But i n Germany, i t has been taken very seriously from Leibniz t o Freud, Husserl, and modern hermeneutics. The classic example o f the view is Leibniz’s conception o f monads, selt-enclosed entelechies “ w i t h o u t

windows t o the outside.” A l l perceptions o f “the world” are i n fact contained within. All relationships are perceptions, and Bildung is n o t a matter of going o u t into the world (for there is no world t o go o u t into) but an internal unfolding of a pre-established, well-coordinated harmony established b y G o d (who is also a Monad.) F r e u d uses the same image in a more biological way, viewing the self as a n amoeba

(for example, i n his Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis) which is originally wholly self-contained until i t is forced t o confront the “out-

side” world, with which i t then tries

to

identity by incorporating i t

into itself.*® T h e great poets o f Germany, Goethe i n particular, em43. T h e comparison o f Freud a n d Hegel h a s b e e n d e v e l o p e d a t s o m e l e n g t h by Paul Ricoeur i n his Freud, trans. D . Savage ( N e w H a v e n : Yale U n i v . Press, 1070), p . 45911.

See also Clark Butler, “Hegel and Freud,” i n Philosophy and Phenomenological Research,

198

Setting the Stage

ployed this image too—thus the standard s t r u c t u r e of the so-called Bildungsroman (Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister, for example) is the isolated individual who reaches o u t and travels around the world, only t o come home a n d “find” himself at the end. I t is, o f course, a very Christian image too—that one finds one’s t r u e self only by first losing i t , and

M.H. Abrams argues that i t is this same image again that defines the whole romantic movement i n Germany—the self dividing against itself and coming back t o itself. The philosophical use o f this metaphor closest t o Hegel, however, was Fichte’s philosophy; the first realization o f philosophy is the “intuition” of one’s self, which Fichte confusingly describes (following Kant) as “the identity o f the self with itself” o r “ego-ego.” But, Fichte argues (none t o o clearly), this recognition of self would n o t be possible except i n opposition t o the “external world,” the “other,” the notself (or “Ego =not—not-Ego.”). Finally, there is the ultimate philosophical realization that i t is the ego that itself “posits” (“sets up,” from setzen) the non-ego as a way o f realizing itself, t o which Hegel objects

(in his Differenz-essay of 1801) that Fichte never really has the self coming back t o itself, but retains the perpetual tension between the self and the not-selt. Schelling corrects this (according t o Hegel i n the same essay) b y identifying the two, and making the not-selt ( o r Nature) p a r t o f the self ( o r vice versa). B u t the image remains essentially the same. (This was Reinhold’s criticism o f Schelling, which prompted

Hegel's essay.) I t is the image of the self, reaching o u t through the world—in n a t u r e , in human history, and i n human consciousness— and coming to realize (or struggling t o realize) all o f this as its o w n activity.

Hegel's and Holderlin’s “Spirit” is this image. Hegel's whole philosophy can be viewed (and he so views it) as an attempt t o “realize” this universal permeation of spirit. I t is n o t always clear t o what e x t e n t the image is the humble Vedic vision of losing ourselves i n a force much greater than ourselves—in “the All”—and t o what extent it is the ego-maniacal image of the self as everything, But i n Fichte, and i n Hegel's Phenomenology, there seems t o be little question t h a t the emphasis is more toward the ego-maniacal image.*® Despite his perfunctory inclusion of a short “philosophy o f nature” i n chapter 5, the whole thrust o f the book is a demonstration o f the strictly human conv o l . 36 (June 1976); a n d D a r r e l Christensen, “ H e g e l ' s Phenomenological A n a l y s i s a n d F r e u d ' s Psychoanalysis,” International Philosophical Quarterly, v o l . 3 ( 1 9 6 8 ) . 44. Natural Supernaturalism (New York: N o r t o n , 1973). 45. G e o r g e S a n t a y a n a c x a g g e r a t e s t h e c h a r g e i n h i s p o l e m i c T h e E g o in German Phi-

losophy b u t h e i s n o t a l o n e

from within.

ın d o i n g

s o ; M a r x ’ s German Ideology m a k e s t h e s a m e point

The Phenomenology of Spirit

199

text o f h u m a n consciousness, i n which N a t u r e a n d all gods b u t h u m a n spirit are relegated t o a small and unobtrusive place.

The starting point o f the question of self-identity, a t least i n modern European philosophy, is Descartes. Descartes had a very definite view of self-identity; “ I am,” he insisted, “a thinking thing,” a substance distinct from the physical substances of the world. From this conception of self, the so-called “Problem of Knowledge” begins; how can I get outside m y self to know t h e world? B u t here, we are simply

concerned with the n a t u r e o f that self itself. What is it? What is its domain? How is i t related, i f a t all, t o other selves? Benedictus Spinoza, reacting t o Descartes, denied the viability o f distinct “substances,” and he saw quite clearly that the separation of self and physical reality (including one’s own body) would lead t o insurmountable difficulties. I n one sense, his reply consists of a metaphysical nicety; h e claims t h a t t h i n k i n g is not itself a substance b u t a n

“attribute” o f the One and Only Substance (or God). B u t with this metaphysical nicety, he also destroyed the Cartesian image of a distinctive, individual self, and i n its place he argued that our distinctions o f individual selves are illusory: o u r t r u e identities are as part and parcel o f the one Great Substance, God. We can already see why

this view made such a deep impression on the intellectuals of Germany, particularly Fichte, Jacobi, and Schelling, as well as Hegel. What

they did not like about Spinoza was the comparatively passive conclusion he drew from this picture, which they took t o be the view that each o f us is determined by forces entirely beyond our powers. And the point of attack, first i n Fichte and Jacobi, later i n Schelling and Hegel, was to accept Spinoza’s monistic vision b u t to reject his deter-

minism. “Freedom is the first and last word i n philosophy,” announced Schelling, summarizing the view of all o f them. Or, “substance must be subject as well,” writes Hegel i n the Preface of the Phenomenology, *® the author o f fate rather than simply its victim. Leibniz too represents a variation on the Cartesian picture, and his impetus begins with the same objections he shared with Spinoza—the unintelligibility of interaction between different substances. But rather than reduce all substances t o One, Leibniz suggests that, though there are many substances, they d o n o t interact at all; they only seem to.

Thus we derive the notion of the selt-enclosed self that prefigures the future of German philosophy. 46. This 1s nowhere more clearly stated than i n Hegel’s early essay “The Spirit o f much a p a r t o f t h e PG, e s p . i n P a r t I I I (“Rea-

C h r i s t i a n i t y a n d I t s F a t e , ” b u t i t i s just as

son”). Hegel's attitude toward passivism a n d other-worldliness is wholesale disdain, from the

“unhappy

himself.

c o n s c i o u s n e s s ” o f Christian

asceticism t o t h e “ b e a u t i f u l s o u l ”

of Jesus

200

Setting the Stage

O n the other side o f the English Channel, theories o f the self were taking a more common-sense t u r n ; John Locke suggested that self-

identity consisted i n the continuity of experience and, in particular, memories. David Hume objected that he found i n his experience only a sequence of experience and memories, but nothing that would c o u n t as a “self.” B u t there was n o serious challenge to the common-sense

assumption that the self referred

to

individual human beings, each

w i t h his o r h e r “ o w n mind.” I t was assumed that the self is a “thing,”

whether mind as such, a “substance,” or an ingredient “in” the mind. Even Hume only disagreed that there is such an ingredient; he did n o t challenge the view that the selt—if there were one—would be such a thing. The turning point in this development was, again, Kant. Along with his “Copernican revolution” i n the theory of knowledge, he developed an equally radical revision of our concept of self-identity. First o f all, he rejects the idea o f the self as a “thing.” (Hegel says, i n his Logic, one o f Kant’s most important contributions was the fact that h e

“destroyed the ‘soul-thing’ in philosophy once and for all” (Logic, para 47).) I n place o f the “thing,” Kant substitutes a n activity. T h u s the

determinism of Spinoza’s model will give way t o the “free activity” o f self that defines the German Idealists. Kant also rejects the commonsensical idea that one simply “sees” oneself i n experience; rather, one

discovers the activity o f the self through reflection on experience, as its transcendental source o f principles. I t is a presupposition o f experience, b u t n o t itself a n object o f experience. A n d from this seem-

ingly simple revision, the Idealism will follow.*7

most

dramatic consequences o f German

I t is the fact that the self 1s n o t — c a n n o t be—an object o f experience, that allows first Fichte, then Schelling and Hegel, t o argue what is most outrageous to common sense, that the self is ultimately n o t a n individual self, b u t a general self, common to all o f us. I n o t h e r words,

the idea that each person has a self, which a t first seems unquestionable, is shown to be nonsense. O f course, as we argued earlier i n this

Chapter, there a r e other reasons for pursuing this thesis; by making the self supra-personal the apparent “necessity” o f o u r experience,

which we as individuals cannot change, can be explained without ret47. K a n t ’ s t h e o r y o f t h e “ t r a n s c e n d e n t a l unity o f c o n s c i o u s n e s s ” w a s n o t i n t e n d e d as a t h e o r y o f s e l f - i d e n t i t y , o f c o u r s e . I t w a s , q u i t e t h e c o n t r a r y , a somewhat selfless t h e o r y o f k n o w l e d g e . N e v e r t h e l e s s , t h e u s e o f t h e “ e g o ” i n K a n t ’ s philosophy inevitably implies a v i e w o f self-identity. I t 1s i n p a r t a C a r t e s i a n v i e w — t h e s e l f as thinking—in p a r t a n a n t i - C a r t e s i a n view——the s e l f 1s n o t a “thing.” B u t t h o u g h t h e generality o f t h e t r a n s c e n d e n t a l s e l f i s i n t e n d e d primarily as a n a c c o u n t o f t h e impersonality of knowle d g e , i t s i m p l i c a t i o n s as a t h e o r y o f s e l f - c o n s c t o u s n e s s w e r e quite e v i d e n t t o Kant’s f o l lowers, F i c h t e i n particular.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

201

erence t o a n odious “ t h i n g i n itself.” B u t epistemology aside, there is a m o r e moving reason,—the whole spirit o f the times, the need

for consolidation and unity, so well expressed i n Holderlin’s poetic metaphor. The argument, though never clearly stated, seems t o be this:* Even Kant talks cautiously about “the transcendental self,” unwilling t o make the glib assumption that each person “has” such an ego. I n his “practical writings,” Kant seems t o leave n o doubt about his common-sense

reliance o n the one person—one Self correlation, but i n his third Critigue, the image o f a n all-embracing universe appears once again, and one could argue that the common-sense correlation is not assumed

there but rather left problematic, with the image o f a universal self something o f a “rational ideal.” And since Kant continuously emphasizes the fact that the self is always “behind” our experience and never its object, the ultimate identity o f the self is indeed a question for Reason, n o t understanding, and certainly n o t “common sense.” As a question of Reason, the self can no longer be assumed t o be identical t o the individual conglomeration of feelings, experiences, memories, a particular body, history, and so on—or what Kant calls, “the empirical ego.” And since Hegel argues that Reason is by its very nature “fluid” rather than fixed, i t follows that there can b e many

different conceptions of self, rather than just one. Indeed, his main argument against Descartes, and against Kant’s “transcendental unity

of consciousness,” is that these conceptions of self are empty. Self-identity, as we well know, is n o t simply a question o f “ I think, therefore I am.” A n “identity crisis” is not just a philosophical contusion; it is the search for a content, for a n acceptable conception o f what I am—what we are. A n d so, o n Hegel’s account, the question once again t u r n s o u t t o be, “What are the possible forms o f self-consciousness?” and, at the same

time, “Which is the best?” And since the ideal o f reason is always unity, H e g e l concludes that the best conception o f self is o u r shared

conception o f ourselves as everything, an absolute identity with each other and the world. T h e technical presuppositions o f the argument can be simply ex-

plained. I f the self is n o t an object of experience, then by Kant’s own insistence i t cannot be conceived t h r o u g h the concepts o f the under-

standing—the categories of substance, causality, and so on. I n one section of the “Transcendental Dialectic” of the first Critique, with the formidable title “The paralogisms [fallacies] o f rational psychology,” K a n t argues j u s t this: i t is a n e r r o r to t h i n k o f the self as a “ t h i n g ” (a 48. I have argued this interpretation i n detail i n my “Hegel's Concept of Geist,” which is reprinted i n A . Maclntyre (ed.), Hegel (New York: Doubleday, 1972).

202

Setting the Stage

“soul”). B u t this also means that the categories o f “quantity”—that is, o u r apparatus for distinguishing things and counting them—are not

applicable t o the self either. Thus we are n o t justified i n saying that there are so many transcendental selves, o r i n saying that there is one of them for every person. Indeed, one cannot literally (only grammatically) say that there is only one self (as Spinoza did), for that too

would be quantifying. One can only say, “there is self” (der Geist), without limitations o r restrictions. T h u s the self becomes the Absolute, o r absolute Spirit, whether k n o w n t h r o u g h “ i n t u i t i o n ” (as i n Fichte, Jacobi, and Schelling) o r developed through “the concept” (as the most adequate conception o f reality, as i n Hegel).

This may sound absurd, but i t follows quite straightforwardly from presumptions that few philosophers had called into question. And the concept o f “Gewst” has its common sense aspects too; we talk all the time without a sense o f absurdity about “team spirit,” a shared sense

o f self i n which the group and its ambitions are everything, the individual player or fan purely secondary and supportive. We talk about “ t h e spirit o f ’76” as a nationally shared sense o f self, and t h o u g h o u r o w n prejudices usually fall o n the side o f the individual self, the p o i n t

is n o t unfamiliar

to

us that the self may be something more than this

as well. I n d e e d Hegel's argument is that i t is our conception o f the

individual self that is ultimately empty, that i t is only through identfication with a Self larger than our individual selves, that life has any meaning, that a self has any identity at all.

Spirit is even more than this, however. The idea that all consciousness is ultimately one strikes most philosophers as implausible, to say the least, b u t Hegel also says that this one consciousness, as Spirit,

includes n o t only the totality o f human beings but the whole universe as well. A n d this, they would argue, 1s absurd. B u t even apart from

the grand metaphors that inspire Hegel's philosophy, there is a very good argument for his view that can be drawn, once again, from the

most innocent premises. Most philosophers, these days, acknowledge that Descartes’s dualism o f mind and body was a dreadful mistake. For years, every major thinker in the West tried his or her hand a t resolving the paradoxes that resulted from that mistake, but more recently, i t has become apparent that the very terms themselves need t o be rejected. Such diverse thinkers as Wittgenstein, Heidegger, Merieau-Ponty, and now an army of “functionalists” reject n o t only

the dualism b u t the terms

ın which i t

is formulated. P.F. Strawson,

some years ago, argued that one could make sense o f the terms “mind”

and “body” only i f

one already presupposed the more “primitive”

49. P.F. Strawson, Individuals ( L o n d o n : M e t h u e n , 1953), esp. chap. 3.

203

The Phenomenology of Spirit

concept of a “ p e r s o n . ” Maurice Merleau-Ponty has argued that what we call “ t h e m i n d ” is n o t h i n g b u t the purposiveness o f the body, t h a t

they cannot be distinguished except in very special circumstances (e.g. i n discussions o f the physiological workings o f “the body”).°® And this is Hegel's view t o o . The self is n o t separable from the body; consciousness is necessarily “embodied” (which does not mean “ i n ” a body.)

But Hegel also believes that there is no ultimate priority

to

be given

to the n o t i o n o f the individual self, so what follows 1s that o u r collec-

tive consciousness m u s t be considered i n t e r m s o f its collective body as well. What is that? Well, at the least, i t ts the s u m total o f living

human flesh—a cosmic orgy of s o r t s . But, o f course, it is only i n certain specialized circumstances that we restrict our “physical selves” t o our flesh alone; we count our clothes, our cars, our property i n general. I n fact, i t was a generally agreed-upon principle a t the time, excepting only a handful o f radical socialists, that a person’s property

constituted an essential part of his or her identity. (Without property—Goethe argued, along with Robespierre—a person 1s less than a person, and certainly n o t a citizen.) And so we include i n our collective body n o t only o u r collective flesh b u t o u r collective p r o p e r t y — the lands we have w o r k e d and made fruitful, the animals we have tamed, the machines we have created, the mountains we have de-

picted i n our paintings, the s t a r s we have studied in our sctence—and what is left? Not much, a meaningless residue o f items deemed n o t worthy o f o u r attention. Spirit, o u r collective self, includes the world

as well.

Science, System, Dialectic: The Problem o f Necessity The t r u e form i n which truth exists c a n only be the scientific system o f s u c h t r u t h —Phenomenology

N o view o f Hegel has been more persistently stubborn in the face o f

its own inadequacies than the idea that the Phenomenology is a proof, and the dialectic is its method. O f course, the Phenomenology does include lots o f arguments; b u t for that matter, so does Goethe’s Faust. B u t Faust doesn’t prove m u c h o f anything—except the genius o f its author, and it certainly doesn’t prove, o n the basis o f Faust’s unex-

pected salvation a t the end o f Part I I , that salvation is after all the “end” o f Faust’s lusty journey with the devil. So t o o , Hegel's dialectic 50.

M a u r i c e Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology o f Perception, t r a n s .

York: H u m a n i t i e s Press, 1962).

Colin

Smith

(New

204

Setting the Stage

1s a grand sequence o f forms and transformations, ending i n a perhaps gratuitous s t a t e m e n t of “absolute knowing.” I t is a demonstration o f the varieties o f human experience, and the importance o f understanding this variety in contrast t o and juxtaposition with any other a n d i n t h e context o f the whole. B u t t h a t hardly constitutes a “proof™

o f the Absolute i n the dramatic theological t e r m s often invoked. And yet, by Hegel's own insistence—in the Preface a t least—philosophy must be scientific and systematic, which means a deduction i n which each step is demonstrated t o be necessary and logically determined by the last. This insistence has s e n t five generations o f British commentators looking for Hegel’s deductive proofs, assuming that Hegel meant by “deduction” what John Stuart Mill and Bertrand Russell m e a n t by t h a t word—a formal proof according t o pre-established rules of inference, guaranteeing ( i f the premises are true) the truth o f the conclusion. T h e problem, as everyone soon found o u t , was that very few

o f Hegel's arguments look like deductions i n this sense. And where such arguments could be f o u n d , they as often as n o t come off clearly invalid. T h e critics, accordingly, concluded that Hegel was a very bad

philosopher indeed. Those who kept the faith concluded that something ingenious and subtle had escaped them. What Hegel m e a n t by “Science” and “system” is essential here. O n the one hand, he objected t o those who claimed that one couldn't articulate and argue philosophical truth—Jacobi and the Romantics; he objected too t o those supposed philosophers for whom articulation meant “a string of random assertions and assurances about the Truth” (Phenomenology, 1). ( T h u s h e would certainly have rejected both Kier-

kegaard and Nietzsche, who often

wrote

philosophy in aphorisms and

anecdotes, b u t they i n r e t u r n dismissed h i m ; Nietzsche, for example, commented that “ t h e will to a system is a lack o f integrity.”*! O n the

other hand, however, Hegel just as vigorously rejected those undeniably rigorous and systematic philosophers who attempted t o demonstrate what they believed i n a quasi-mathematical system (e.g. Descartes, Leibniz, Spinoza). I n the academic context i n which h e was

writing, the demand for “Science” and “system” were the requireo f the day, and the words alone were passwords t o success. I o

ments

be “scientific” meant to b e rigorous, careful, thorough, complete—

the scholarly virtues. To accuse someone of being “unscientific” was an academically respectable way of condemning him. Thus Reinhold accused Schelling of being “unscientific,” and Hegel so accused Reinhold. Hegel and Schelling called Fichte “unscientific,” and finally, in 51. Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, 1. 26, i n Kaufmann, Nietzsche ( N e w York, Viking, 1956).

The Phenomenology of Spirit

205

the Phenomenology, Hegel turned the same abuse on Schelling and his followers. Indeed, the whole movement of German Idealism began when Reinhold and Fichte declared even the great Kant t o be insufficiently “systematic,” by which they m e a n t that he had n o t succeeded i n showing the unity o f his work. B u t the words “science” and “system” were first o f all emotive terms, academic weapons, t e r m s o f praise and abuse. And when Hegel says, again and again and again i n the Preface of the Phenomenology, that he is being “scientific,” this emotive meaning must be kept i n mind. The effect o f this largely verbal emphasis on system and Science i n the Phenomenology, however, (almost entirely confined to the Preface

and Introduction) is t o raise the expectations for some grand philosophical demonstration, for some rigorous form of proof. Hegel talks about necessity, “system” and “Science,” but then immediately one confronts the m o s t unsystematic and unscientific arguments, which by no amount of generous interpretation can be identified as valid deductions. And so it seems—possibly Hegel didn’t know what he was doing a t all, or he tried t o be systematic but utterly failed, almost a t every t u r n , o r h e d i d indeed succeed b u t i n such a devious manner

that we more common mortals c a n n o t possibly comprehend. A more reasonable suspicion, however, would be that what Hegel m e a n t by “deduction” was n o t a t all what modern British philosophers mean by that t e r m . The t e r m comes rather from Kant, and i f one seeks a precedence for Hegel's apparent imprecision one need only look a t Kant’s much celebrated “transcendental deduction of the categories” i n his first Critique. Kant took the t e r m “deduction” n o t from the formal proofs o f logic but rather from 18th-century jurists, for whom the term (now obsolete) established a right rather than proved some s t a t e o f affairs.°® Hegel takes the term from Fichte, for w h o m a “deduction” was essentially a “practical” matter, o f searching o u t the

presuppositions of self-identity. But even this is too “logical” for Hegel; unlike Fichte o r Kant, Hegel refuses t o begin with any premise (or “first principle”) a t all, thus eliminating from the start the essence

of “deduction” i n the logical sense. For him a “deduction” is literally “leading from,” n o t according t o the rules o f logic but according t o the e n d o n e wants to reach. A n d what H e g e l wants to d o is to get us

see our experience as a whole. “Deduction” is a journey, “demonstration” is a “showing”; “dialectic” is a conversation, and none of to

these should be construed as a logical proof.

This does not mean, of course, t h a t Hegel's Phenomenology is thereby 52. See, for example, Körner, Kant ( L o n d o n : Penguin, 1955), p . 57.

206

Setting the Stage

wholly arbitrary and haphazard, as critics and even the faithful—in moments of despair—have often concluded. (For example, J. N . Findlay: “The effort t o see the wood for the arbitrary trees is, i n the case o f Hegel, often superhuman; i t becomes easier when one realizes

that the

trees are

disposed in an arbitrary manner.”>?) There are many

modes o f organization besides the mathematical-deductive method,

and many ways o f taking steps besides strict deductive inference. The question is—what is Hegel’s method, i f i t is not t o be considered “arbitrary”? What 1s “dialectic”? What is the s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology? T h e answer t o these questions, i n general, is rather simple, once we get o u t o f o u r minds the meanings that the words “deduction” and “necessity” ( i n the sense o f “deductive necessity”) have for us.

The first thing t o say is that, i f we look a t the Phenomenology as a journey o f sorts, “necessity” means quite simply, “ t h e way one gets from

there t o here.” I n t e r m s o f the all-pervasive Bildung metaphor, we can see perfectly intelligibly (unless one tries t o make a logical deduction o u t o f it) that a plant must produce blossoms before i t produces fruits,

that the first is a necessary stage t o the second, and that the second is a necessary result o f the first. Does this mean that there could be n o

fruits without blossoms? O f course not; one could imagine a scientist developing a p l a n t that springs fruit without flowers, a n d one can

always entertain the customary vision o f God's creation of the vegetable kingdom i n which at least one apple seems to have been created

de nihilo, without the usual botanical preliminaries. Does i t mean that a blossom necessarily turns into a fruit, as a matter of logic? O f course not, again; blossoms fail to be fertilized; they are destroyed b y wind o r chemicals; they are picked for springtime lovers, thus frustrating

their “natural necessity” But we can talk about a necessary progress i o n , nonetheless.

T h e idea that a certain phenomenon can be seen as necessary i n

o f its expected results is evident in another homey example; consider a child beginning t o babble. I t emits a number of sounds, which increasingly resemble the phonemes of its parents’ language, let us say, Arabic. H o w do we know that the sounds are proto-Arabic instead o f proto-Chinese, or proto-Urdu? Listening t o the sounds themselves, we do n o t . Indeed, they may be indistinguishable. But we say without hesitation that the child is learning Arabic; we are looking forward t o the language which the child indeed will learn. Does this terms

mean that the language is already “ i n the child,” to b e learned (or 53. Findlay, Hegel, p . 93.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

207

mantfested) o f necessity? O f course not (not even for a Chomskian).

Does i t mean that the child will inevitably learn Arabic? N o again— his parents m i g h t move h i m to Boston. Does i t mean that one must so babble before one learns to speak Arabic? N o , one can learn the

language from a grammar book, only subsequently putting this abstract knowledge into practice. I n short, we can talk o f necessity i n such cases because we are referring to the p a t h we expect to be taken to a particular result. A n d so too, o n the doorstep o f what Hegel (mis-)

perceived t o be the precocious babbling of the German philosophers leading up t o the ultimate unification of humanity i n 1806, he could look back over the whole of human history and see i t i n just this sense, as a sequence o f “necessary” moments o n the way t o this apocalyptic

conclusion. Kierkegaard complained (in his Journals) that Hegel looked a t life “backwards.” But t o understand this brand o f necessity, one can only look at what one already knows, for i t is only b y reference to a known

result that the concept of “necessity” applies. Regarding blossoms and fruits and babies babbling, we know from numerous experiences what

the result will be. But i n the epic history o f human consciousness—a journey that all o f us have n o t yet been through even once—there is n o result to b e k n o w n , a n d n o steps k n o w n along the way, except for

those we have already lived through. Hegel does n o t deny the future, and neither is he a “historicist” i n Karl Popper's sense—who thinks that the future 1s already predetermined. Regarding the future, one can only guess, and these are contingencies, n o t necessities. Indeed, looking only a few months, perhaps days ahead, Hegel thought he saw the inevitability o f some grand synthesis; and he was wrong. What

he did know, without second guessing Napoleons ambitions or Metternich’s manipulations, was that h e could see the whole o f h u m a n history from his present vantage p o i n t and see i t as a necessary pro-

gression t o this moment. Indeed, one can almost render this as an utterly trivial proposition—that the culminating m o m e n t o f the entire past is now. (Cf. “Today is the first day of the r e s t o f your life” Edification does n o t always require logical profundity.) The necessity Hegel 1s after is nothing other than this sense of progression, o f order i n the midst of chaos, of Bildung i n spite of the apparent absurdity o f i t all. B u t i t is n o t just a matter o f the grand picture, the whole sweep o f history, that is subject to such a n interpretation. T h e r e is necessity i n the particular steps too, so long, again, as we d o not try t o interpret this as the deductive necessity o f m o d e r n

logic. A precise analysis o f these necessities m u s t wait until we c a n actually look a t the particular steps in the Phenomenology, but this much

208

Setting the Stage

can be said here; each o f them must be explained i n terms o f the

specific goals implicit i n the various parts of the Phenomenology as well as i n t e r m s o f the over-all goal, which Hegel summarizes as total comprehension (or “absolute knowing”). Consider two much-abbreviated

examples: Suppose we look back on the history of science, let us say, at the history o f attempts to explain electro-magnetic phenomena. A t the e n d o f the process is the present scientific account, as adequate as

that may be. Throughout the process is an implicit goal, which is the all-inclusive explanation o f n o t only this (these two) set(s) of phenomena but virtually all physical phenomena—in what is today called a “unified field theory.” A t every particular stage i n the investigation, however, there is a n established s e t of accepted hypotheses and techniques which are n o t t o be challenged, certain suggestions which are the topic o f lively debate, others which are considered nonsense, the

butt of professional jokes i f they are discussed a t all. Now, i n this process of investigation, a theory will be deemed “necessary” in retrospect i f i t is o n the p a t h to the present account. I t may be quite evidently faise (from o u r present standpoint). I n d e e d , i t may have

even been one o f the supposedly nonsensical views o f the time, but one which lead o r pushed scientists i n (what we now recognize as) the r i g h t direction. O u r present account need not follow from this early theory. I t is possible that we m i g h t have reached o u r present conclu-

sions by way o f a very different route, i n which this particular theory played n o part at all. T h e r e were other, better theories which are not

deemed “necessary” and, one can imagine, future theories of electromagnetism may well t r a c e o u t a very different history, i n which this one is n o longer necessary, indeed n o longer mentioned, at all. I t s

necessity is a “backwards-looking” context-bound a c c o u n t of the process t h r o u g h which we have arrived at o u r approximation o f the truth.

Indeed, without the process, there would be no scientific truth, for there w o u l d be n o questions, n o problems, n o context w i t h i n which

the phenomena would be noticed or puzzled over and within which explanations o f a certain kind would be called for. T h e second example is practical; suppose a young man, let us say Sgren Kierkegaard i n 1840, seeks self-fulfillment t h r o u g h a n unchar-

acteristic sequence of rebellions and licentiousness. Believing that unceasing pleasure is the way t o that sense o f self-fulfillment, he indulges, and when unsatisfied, indulges still more. Finally jaded and exhausted, he comes t o realize that hedonism is n o t the way t o selffulfillment; what he begins t o see is that self-fulfillment is possible only t h r o u g h other people (as ends, n o t merely as means to pleasure), w h i c h is a step i n t u r n t o t h e realization t h a t o n l y t h e moral life is t h e

The Phenomenology of Spirit

209

good life. N o w suppose, for the moment, that we accept this progres-

sion or, at least, suppose that Kierkegaard (looking back ın 1841 o n

his experience) accepts it; the moves

to

hedonism and cooperative

activity (in whatever form) can be viewed as “necessary” in just this

sense—they were appropriate steps on the way.”* Again, there is certainly nothing inevitable about i t ; someone else might have remained a jaded hedonist for the r e s t o f his life. A n d one need n o t be a he-

donist t o become moral. B u t i n the modest sense o f “necessity” Hegel is employing, one might say that the brief excursion into dissolute hedonism was necessary as the loss o f innocence which is the prerequisite for moral resolution. One c a n n o t become moral, many an exlibertine has argued, unless one has first tasted the other side of life. To talk about necessity i n these t w o abbreviated examples is certainly n o t t o talk about “necessity” i n the modern sense o f “logical necessity,” b u t neither is i t to cheapen the term nor to suggest, with

several authors, that Hegel has an extremely “loose” sense o f necessity.5> What Hegel has i n mind is a kind of context-bound, teleological necessity, necessity within a context for some purpose. I t is not precise; i t cannot b e formalized o r reduced to a formula. B u t given this sense

of necessity, the transitions i n the Phenomenology make perfectly good sense, so long as one accepts what Hegel means by “necessity” instead of what he does n o t mean. Hegel does n o t mean by “necessity” what Kant means by “a priori” There are no deductions outside of a context, n o transcendental principles t o be defended w i t h o u t substantial

reference

to

the “form o f consciousness” t o which they belong. I n the

context o f scientific explanation, the necessity o f a thesis depends o n the goal o f science—to explain as m u c h as possible as simply as possible. I n the context o f individual selt-fulfillment, the necessity o f a

resolution depends upon the experiences one has already had and the sort o f person that, i n some sense, one already wants to be. N e -

cessity means “necessary for,” i n some specific context. B u t what about the purpose—the necessity o f the Phenomenology as

a whole? The goal o f the Phenomenology—and of the human Spirit— is what Hegel calls total comprehension. Every form of consciousness, therefore, is a necessary ingredient i n that totality—if only because it would not be a totality without i t . B u t more than this, the thesis o f the Phenomenology—its argument, i f you like—is the thesis which is cur-

rently called holism—the view that, ultimately, meaning and truth reside only by reference t o the whole. Each individual argument, there5 4 . I n d e e d , e v e n K i e r k e g a a r d writes o f “ s t a g e s o n l i f e ’ s way,” as a matter o f ( s u b j e c t i v e ) necessity.

55. C. Taylor, Hegel; W. K a u f m a n n , Hegel.

210

Setting the Stage

fore, is something o f a demonstration of the incompleteness or “onesidedness” o f a particular form of consciousness. The move from one form to another is, first o f all, a context-defined move to an appar-

ently better way of conceiving of similar phenomena (e.g. one scientific theory which improves upon another, a moral resolution which “corrects” the follies o f another way o f life). B u t every move is a t the same time a move toward completeness, a n appreciation o f the range a n d t h e limitations, n o t j u s t o f this o r t h a t form o f consciousness, b u t

of every form of consciousness. And that, again, is absolute knowing o r what we call, i n everyday life, “experience.”

Within this view of “necessity” and the purpose of Hegel's book, I w a n t t o argue i n the pages that follow that Hegel's much-discussed and much maligned transitions do indeed make sense—even the most difficult of them, given a certain amount of imaginative reconstruction and interpretation i n o u r o w n terms. I n d e e d , i f we are to under-

stand the Phenomenology and its purpose, i t is “necessary” that we do so, i n just the sense argued above.

Chapter Four (c)

The Phenomenology of Spirit: Its Structure There 1s as much hidden logic in Hegel's apparent arbitrariness as in T.S. Eliot's Wasteland. —].N. Findlay

The idea o f arranging all significant points o f view in a single sequence . . . 1s as d a z z l i n g t o contemplate as i t i s m a d t o try. —Walter K a u f m a n n

What is most striking about Hegel's Phenomenology 1s its s t r u c t u r e , or apparent lack o f i t . N o t only does i t cover a n enormous variety o f

topics (which i n itself is n o t striking; so does the Encyclopaedia Britannica). I t orders them i n a peculiar, perhaps arbitrary way, which 1s hardly made any more obvious by the word “dialectic” (which Hegel hardly uses i n this book). I t is often said that the Phenomenology is first o f all a historical book,

the history o f “Spirit” or “the autobiography o f God.” A n d indeed, I would argue that the great discovery of the Phenomenology, despite Hegel’s original intentions for the book, is what might be called histor:cism, the view that various “ f o r m s o f consciousness” are relative to a time and a viewpoint. B u t the Phenomenology has very little to say about

history in general. History is said a t the end o f the book t o be “the externalization o f Spirit i n time,” but Hegel 1s quite clear i n stating t h a t h i s t o r y a s s u c h i s defined b y i t s c o n t i n g e n c y a n d n o t b y necessity.

The Phenomenology 1s n o t a book about history, and its s t r u c t u r e is n o t historical, as even the most superficial scan o f its c o n t e n t s will reveal.

Antigone and pre-historical family life appear n o t until page 267; Locke, Leibniz, Newton, and Kant make their appearance i n the first few chapters, along with Plato and Aristotle. History does make its awaited appearance i f rather late i n the book, (chapter 6), but it, like everything else, consists of forms of consciousness which are n o t strictly historical and which are subjected t o the conceptual demands o f the dialectic. Their order i n time, by itself, signifies nothing for Hegel.

211

212

Setting the Stage

To understand the strategy behind the structure, as well as the purpose a n d rules o f the “dialectic,” let us begin by looking at the text itself; here, then, is the table o f contents: PREFACE: O N S C I E N T I F I C C O G N I T I O N

000

INTRODUCTION

46

A. CONSCIOUSNESS

58

I.

II. I11.

SENSE-CERTAINTY:

PERCEPTION: FORCE

THE

AND

OR

OR

THE

THE

THE

“TH1S”

THING

AND

UNDERSTANDING:

AND

58

“MEANING”

67

DECEPTION APPEARANCE

AND

SUPERSENSIBLE

79

WORLD

B. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS IV.

THE

TRUTH

OF

104

SELF-CERTAINTY

104

A. Independence and dependence of self-consciousness: Lordship and Bondage

111

B. Freedom o f self-consciousness: Stoicism, Scepticism, and the Unhappy Consctousness

119

C. (AA.) REASON V.

A.

THE

CERTAINTY

139 AND

TRUTH

OF

REASON

139

145

Observing Reason

a. Observation of Nature. Description i n general. Descriptive marks. Laws. Observation o f the organic: relation o f the ort o the inorganic. Teleology. Inner and o u t e r . The inn e r : laws o f t h e p u r e moments o f t h e i n n e r ; Sensibility, I r -

ganic

ritability, and Reproduction; the inner and its o u t e r aspect. The inner and the o u t e r as an organic shape. The o u t e r itself as inner and outer, o r the organic Idea transposed into

the inorganic. The organic from this point o f view: Genus, Species, and Individuality b. Observation o f self-consciousness i n its purity and i n its rel a t i o n t o external a c t u a l i t y . L o g i c a l a n d psychological l a w s

c. Observation o f self-consciousness i n its relation t o its immediate actuality. Physiognomy and Phrenology

147

180

185

B. The actualization o f rational self-consciousness through its own 211

activity

a. Pleasure and Necessity

217

b. The law o f the heart and the frenzy o f self-conceit

221

c.

C.

V i r t u e a n d t h e way o f t h e w o r l d

Individuality which takes itself

to

be real i n and for itself

228

236

a. The spiritual animal kingdom and deceit, or the “matter i n

hand” itself b . R e a s o n as l a w g i v e r

Reason as testing laws

237

252

256 [=

213

The Phenomenology of Spirit (BB.) SPIRIT V1.

263

SPIRIT

A. The true Spirit. T h e ethical order a. The ethical world. Human and Divine Law: Man and Woman b. Ethical action. Human and Divine knowledge. Guilt and Destiny c. Legal status

B. Self-alienated Spirit. Culture I . The world o f self-alienated Spirit

290

204 296

a. Culture and its realm of actuality

297 321 328

a. The struggle o f the Enlightenment with Superstition

329

b. The truth of Enlightenment

349

111. Absolute Freedom and Terror

355

Spirit that is certain of itself. Morality

364

a. T h e moral view o f the world

365

b. Dissemblance o r duplicity c. Conscience. The ‘beautiful soul’, evil and its forgiveness

374 383

(CC.) R E L I G I O N VII.

279

b. Faith and pure insight I I . The Enlightenment

C.

266 267

410

RELIGION

A. Natural Religion a. God as Light b . P l a n t a n d anımal ¢.

410

T h e artificer

416 418 420 421

B. Religion in the form of Art

424

a. The abstract work of art

427

b. The living work o f a r t c. The spiritual work of a r t

435 439

C. The revealed religion ( D D . ) ABSOLUTE K N O W I N G VIIl.

ABSOLUTE

KNOWING

453 479

479°

The first point t o make is obvious; the organization of this book is a mess. T h e book is divided i n t o three parts (A,B,C), b u t the third

part is entirely disproportionate t o the other t w o , containing four complete chapters, each of which is virtually as long as or much longer than the first four chapters together. I t is n o t hard t o suspect from 56. P G ,

XX111-XXXX.

Setting the Stage

214

this, as several noted German scholars have argued i n some detail,°” that H e g e l changed his p l a n o r got carried away w i t h himself somewhere i n the fifth chapter ( o n “Reason”) which presumably was t o be the conclusion, the demonstration o f “ t h e Absolute,” rather than the

beginning o f an entirely new set o f sequences. And within that long, long section o n “Reason,” the first chapter (chapter 5) divides into t w o virtually unrelated parts, the first o n the philosophy o f nature a n d

science (up t o p. 210), the second about what we would probably call “ethics” (211-62). The sixth chapter (“Spirit”) can be argued n o t t o belong i n the book a t all,® even though i t evidently contains some o f Hegel's favorite topics—his discussion o f Antigone and brother-sister relations and his undisguised commentary on the Enlightenment and the French Revolution. The concept o f “Spirit” is essential t o the book, o f course, b u t that could have been dealt w i t h i n m u c h less space, a n d

without the long excursion into history that occupies chapter.

most

o f the

T h e chapter o n religion m i g h t seem well placed, b u t a quick ex-

amination of the sections that make i t u p and Hegel’s introductory remarks on page 410 (and following) make i t clear that this discussion too breaks the sequence o f the book and introduces an apparently wholly e x t r a n e o u s discussion of the history of religion.*® Moreover, Hegel makes i t quite clear that the sequence o f religions does n o t follow but rather parallels the earlier chapters of the book, thus destroying what readers might prefer t o think o f as a singular linear sequence. Finally, the chapter on “Absolute Knowing,” supposedly the point o f the entire exercise, is less than fifteen pages long! I f i t were n o t

for our contrapuntal historicist thesis, one might well be tempted

to

say, as Sartre has said o f one o f his more complex works, that the lion

has given birth

to

a mouse.

5 7 . T h e o d o r e H a e r i n g , “ D i e Entstehungsgeschichte d e r Phdnomenologie d e s Geistes,” Verhandlungen des dritten Hegelkongresses ( T ü b i n g e n , 1 9 3 4 ) , p p . 1 1 8 - 3 8 . O t t o Poggeler, “ Z u r D e u t u n g d e r P h a n o m e n o l o g i e d e s Geistes,” Hegelstudien, 1 ( 1 9 6 1 ) , 2 5 5 - 9 1 . I n a l e t t e r t o Schelling j u s t a f t e r publication ( M a y 1 , 1 8 0 7 ) , H e g e l h i m s e l f admits “ t h e de-

formity o f t h e l a t e r p a r t s ” (Kaufmann, p. 319); a n d i n t h e P r e f a c e

t o t h e Science o f Logic

h e makes similar, i f m u t e d confession ( 2 5 ; see the quote a t the b e g i n n i n g o f C h a p t e r

4b). 58. Poggeler. 5 9 . T h e sequence as r e n d e r e d explicitly h i s t o r i c a l i n H e g e l ' s l a t e r Lectures o n the Philosophy o f R e l i g i o n , published i n English translation by S p e i r s a n d Sanderson, 3 vols. ( L o n d o n : K e g a n Paul, 1895). T h e Philosophy o f Religion, 1s a n e s s e n t i a l companion t o

the reading o f PG, chap. 7. (We shall use them extensively i n our Chapter 10.) 60. Critique de la R a i s o n dialectigue (Paris: Gallimard, 1960) a n d i t s c o m p a n i o n piece, Question de la method.

The Phenomenology o f Spirit

215

Hegel's “Dialectic” Lets g o back to t h e t h r e e parts: these are—A.Consciousness; B.Self-

Consciousness; C.Reason. I n the standard neo-Kantian and i n particular Fichtean language of “subject” and “object,” one might well identify the first part (A) as the “object” emphasis, the second part (B) as the “subject” emphasis, and the third part (C) as the “unity o f subject

and object,” & la Schelling. I t is worth noting that the order here is different from Fichte’s Wissenschaftlehre, which established the stand a r d progression: Fichte starts with the subject (the “ I ” ) , moves to “posit” the object (the “not-1”), a n d t h e n returns toward (but n o t to)

the unity of the t w o . Hegel s t a r t s with the object, moves t o the subject, and ends with a synthesis. O n e can easily make too m u c h o f this meta-

physical inversion. Fichte starts with Kant (“the transcendental unity of consciousness” and my immediate intuition of myself). Hegel begins w i t h common sense, n o t a philosophical position, and common sense ( o r “ n a t u r a l consciousness”) takes its essence to be the knowledge o f what stands before it, its object (Gegenstand). (Phenomenology

90-91) Nevertheless, the “ I ” is plainly present (as individual knowing consciousness), and the shift i n part B t o “self-consciousness” is i n fact Hegel's move t o j o i n Fichte. Part B begins with h i m (but so too does

part C). The predominance o f triads i n this outline is bound t o provoke the suggestion that Hegel does have a Fichtean three-step “thesis-antithesis-synthesis” outline after all. Indeed, not only is the book as a whole divided into three parts, but part A is also divided into three parts, chapter 5 is divided into three sections and each section i n turn is divided into three. Chapter 6 and chapter 7 are both divided into three and each part o f each is divided into three as well. B u t before

the reader gets too excited about this, let me point o u t quickly that very few of these triads consist even remotely of t w o opposing theses and their resolution, and i n n o case does Hegel use these t e r m s . B u t one should n o t conclude, as Kaufmann does, that H e g e l has n o t h i n g

but reproach for this three-step process.®* I n Hegel's later lectures o n

the history o f philosophy, he praises Kant for his discovery of “the universal scheme. . . of knowledge, o f scientific movement. . . as thesis, antithesis, synthesis.” But Hegel does n o t characterize this movem e n t i n t e r m s of opposed theses, but rather as Otherness, Being for consciousness, existence as object; Being-for-self, for self-consciousness. 61. K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 168. 62. Lectures, vol. 3, p . 477.

216

Setting the Stage

H e does say that this is “the negative of Being-in-itself,” but i t is “negative” in the unfamiliar sense o f standing over against, distinct from, n o t

our more usual sense of denial and disagreement. The third movem e n t is “the unity o f the two.”® This, o f course, fits i n quite precisely with Hegel's own three-step breakdown of the Phenomenology, even i f it requires some distortion o f Kant to d o so. B u t even this character-

ization does n o t fit m o s t of the transitions between chapters and sections (and within sections). Sometimes, but by no means always, i t is the differences (not necessarily opposition) between t w o forms of consciousness that motivate a transition. B u t just as often i t is the

internal inadequacy of a form itself, and the transition marks a modification and attempted improvement on that form rather than, i n any sense, a n alternative o r opposition t o i t . T h e moral o f this lesson is not, however, that H e g e l does not have anything particular i n mind

with his so-called “dialectical method” or that the s t r u c t u r e of the Phenomenology follows n o particular pattern. I t is rather that we should

be too anxious t o provide a general and overly rigid characterization of what is often but n o t always a three-step movement, by which the Phenomenology proceeds from beginning t o its “absolute” end. The s t r u c t u r e of the Phenomenology, like its conception and what i t is “about,” is torn between conflicting tendencies. As a “system” of absolute Idealism (or the “introduction” thereto), the Phenomenology does indeed follow the convenient and traditional three-step procedure from object and subject (or subject and object) t o the “unity o f the two” i n “absolute Knowledge.” B u t this renders over half o f the book superfluous, the whole of chapters 6 and 7 and the better part of chapter 5 as well. As a “historicist” investigation o f the various forms not

o f consciousness a n d their interconnections, however, t h e chapters which are superfluous o n the absolute Idealist reading become essen-

tial, and the earlier chapters, on epistemology (chapters 1-3) and “selfconsciousness” (chapter 4), require by no means minor reinterpretation.®® Because o f this tension, i t becomes virtually impossible to

provide a single interpretation o f a “method” that does full justice both t o the arguments of the first chapters, which are written more o r less without reference t o history o f any k i n d (most o f the argum e n t s are paraphrases o f positions i n the early Greek metaphysicians

and modern empiricism and rationalism), and t o the historical chapters later on. Chapter 4 (“Master and Slave” etc.) presents particularly intriguing ambiguities, since it was written both with a rough historical sequence i n mind (from primitive pre-history t o medieval Chris63. I b i d . 64. H . F . F u l d e , D . H e n r i c h (eds.), Materialien zu Hegels ‘Phinomenologie des Geistes’ ( F r a n k f u r t , 1976), following the o u t l i n e o f the Jena lectures, for example.

The Phenomenology of Spirit

217

tianity) and a discernible logical development, which Hegel abstracts as “freedom—dependence and independence.” One can imagine— but i t would be difficult t o prove—that Hegel was i n the middle o f the fourth chapter, describing what Rousseau (among many others) had postulated as “the original state o f nature” when he became inspired, o r swept away, b y a vision o f the whole o f h u m a n history as a

series o f forms o f consciousness. The historical pattern breaks down the end o f the chapter, but picks u p again, starting over, in chapter 6, and again, i n chapter 7. And then, while writing about “revealed religion” a t the end o f chapter 7—the deadline getting close and the book almost unmanageably overgrown—it is as i f Hegel decided t o do what (as absolute Idealist) he should have done hundreds o f pages before: present the “Absolute” and be done with it. at

There is a second tension, by way o f a n attempted b u t unsuccessful

synthesis, that explains the awkward s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology too. I have tried to stress all along that Hegel was by n o means con-

cerned only with technical philosophical problems. ( I n his youth, he was t h e m o s t anti-intellectual o f the three schoolmates, and his aca-

demic enthusiasm o f the early 1800s must be seen i n contrast t o that.) With Fichte, he was particularly concerned t o emphasize the world o f practical efforts; and following Kant, he insisted that religion, i f i t was t o become acceptable (“rational”) a t all, would have t o be thoroughly practical —producing better human beings and more coherent communities, rather than just incomprehensible doctrines and dogmas. B u t w i t h Schelling, h e h a d come to agree that a proper “system” o f

philosophy had t o integrate both theory and practice, the world o f n a t u r e and knowledge and the world o f freedom and action. But it was b y n o means clear to h i m (nor h a d i t been to Kant, Fichte, o r

Schelling) how he was t o do this. So his solution is clumsy, t o say the least. H e shuffles theory and practice like fat cards i n a deck, and by n o means neatly. T h e book begins with about sixty pages o f epistemology—the theory o f knowledge—then moves t o a discussion o f the

practical dimensions of knowledge, i n just a few pages, before launching into his much celebrated discussion o f “master and slave” and brutally primitive inter-personal relationships, then Stoicism, Skepticism, a n d

“unhappy consciousness,” all o f which might be deemed “practical” reactions t o the problems o f dependency and the unhappiness o f the world. Then, just as suddenly, we e n t e r the realm o f “reason” and a

somewhat lengthy discussion o f what Hegel and Schelling called the “philosophy o f nature,” but what we would call philosophy o f science. I n a n i m p o r t a n t sense, t h e first h a l f o f c h a p t e r 5 follows w i t h o u t i n -

terruption the end of chapter 3; almost all of chapter 4, except for the first few pages perhaps, m i g h t just as well have been deleted o r

218

Setting the Stage

postponed. Halfway through chapter 5 there is another abrupt transition, and all o f a sudden we are talking about hedonism—the life o f pleasure. What immediately precedes i t i n the text is a discussion o f the already dated pseudo-science of phrenology and Hegel musing about the double aspects o f bones and male urinary organs (p. 210). Again, one m i g h t suggest that a smooth transition could just as easily

be forged from the end o f chapter 4 and “unhappy consciousness” directly i n t o the m i d d l e o f chapter 5 and hedonism. After all, is there

any more “natural” or familiar transition than the one from the life o f unhappy religious asceticism into a deluge of sensualism and debauchery? (Kierkegaard’s single year o f sensualism with Hans Christian Andersen, for instance, was a clear b u t clearly unsuccessful attempt to counteract the neurotically guilt-ridden Christianity h e h a d

been taught by his father.) I t is as i f the discussion of “Naturphilosophie” had no role t o play whatsoever. (Should Kierkegaard have taken a t e r m t o study biology?) What this gives us is a very different picture o f the s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology, a n amalgam (hardly a “synthesis”) o f two books, one more o r less “practical,” the other “theoretical” Thus one might re-

do the table o f c o n t e n t s (in broad outline) like this: (Phenomenology of Practice)

(Phenomenology o f Theory) Preface Introduction A . Consciousness

B . Self-Consciousness

C.(AA)v.A.Observing Reason B . Actualization o f rational self-consciousness. . . C. Individuality. . .

BB. Spirit CC. Religion D D . Absolute K n o w i n g I t is as i f the final chapter were merely the hinge holding the two books together.

When we combine this complex dissection with the tension between absolute Idealism and historicism, the j o u r n e y does indeed become convoluted. A d d too the fact that the historical chapters, at least, d o not

follow the sequence but rather begin over again, and that even

chapter 4 and the first part o f chapter 5 are forced into parallel with chapters 1, 2, and 3. T h u s the sequence begins

some supposedly “ascending” order:

to

look l i k e this, i n

The Phenomenology of Spirıt (theory)

Preface Introduction Chap. 1 Chap. 2 Chap. 3

Chap. 5Aa 5Ab 5AC

219

(practical)

4A Chap. 5B Chap. 6A Chap. 7A 7B 6B | | 7D 6C 4B Chap. 5C Chap. 8

Charts are often absurd i n philosophy, and they usually have the effect o f rendering ridiculous rather than clear the s t r u c t u r e s they are intended to clarify. B u t the growing complexity here is revealing.

I n the Preface, Hegel displays a penchant for mixed metaphors. H e variously calls the Phenomenology a “ladder,” a “circle,” a “highway,” a n education (Bildung), a “realization”—making actual what is only potential, and, though h e does n o t exactly say so, a spiral, twirling us from common sense “ u p ” to the Absolute. I t is also a self-enclosed

self, coming

to

recognize itself. But these metaphors, taken one by

one, give us very different pictures o f the structure o f the book and

the interrelation o f its various forms. A ladder simply goes straight from A t o C. What we might then conclude is that i t is a ladder with too m a n y rungs, so many i n fact that one cannot get one’s foot i n to

climb it. A circle goes nowhere, and i f the Phenomenology 1s a circle one might well d r o p the Absolute altogether (unless, o f course, one

simply calls the circle itself “the Absolute,” which Hegel sometimes suggests). O n e can look a t the Phenomenology as a series o f circles (as Klaus H a r t m a n n does)®*—thus we get to the end o f “Spirit” just to s t a r t over with “Religion.” But here Hegel's c o n s t a n t reference t o “higher levels” might lead us t o combine the circle image with the ladder image and see the Phenomenology and its s t r u c t u r e as a series o f connected ascending circles, or perhaps, t w o intertwined spirals, like a D N A molecule, one strand representing knowledge, the other

ethics, culture, and religion. I n fact, that image is quite Kantian, and Kant himself suggested—but n o t as a piece o f “knowledge” —that a

rational person would have some such picture, o f n a t u r e and freedom developing i n parallel, and i t remained for Schelling simply t o add t o this “regulative idea” the claim t h a t the t w o strands were in fact identical, merely t w o aspects o f one and the same Absolute, real-

izing itself through time. Indeed, there are any number of combinations of these metaphors, perhaps new and ingenious topologies that have n o t yet been invented. T h e p r o b l e m is, once we stop playing 65. K . H a r t m a n n , “ H e g e l : A N o n - O n t o l o g i c a l View,” i n M a c I n t y r e , (ed.), Hegel, a n d elsewhere.

220

Setting the Stage

with the metaphors and go back t o the text, there is still no linear, circular, spiral, o r self-reflective order that seems t o fit.

When one sits down and actually tries t o read this treatise none o f these images are anything more than encouraging suggestions. Pressed with the need t o actually understand the various transitions i n the Phenomenology, these exciting but vague metaphors are o f only minimal help. Indeed, what they tell us is that one cannot simply read this book as a linear progression o f forms i n any particular logical se-

quence. They are disrupted by Hegel's own confused vision of his project. They are disjointed because o f Hegels crude amalgam of theory and practice. They are turned back on themselves by a series o f chapters that d o n o t progress but fold onto each other—and can we really take Hegel's word “higher” (or the verb, aufheben) in any

easy sense? Are the various forms o f religion really more advanced (and i n what sense?) than their equivalent (in what way?) forms i n Spirit? Are the speculations o f phrenology really more sophisticated o r “mature” than the Kantian critical philosophy? Indeed, so many

readers and commentators have for so long followed Hegel i n the uncritical recognition of “higher” stages i n the Phenomenology that one can only wonder whether they d i d , as Hegel insists, get “into” the

forms o f consciousness rather than racing along side o f them, always with the illusion o f a progression. I f the Phenomenology is n o t a n ascending linear sequence, what could i t be? Well i t could be a mistake, a disjointed, disrupted argument

written i n haste. This would free us o f the effort t o a c c o u n t for i t (unless one happens t o delight in philological pathology), but I see n o point i n writing about the Phenomenology b y way o f a n autopsy. I t is a living book, and what needs t o be understood is its form o f life.

Despite its faults and flaws, but making allowances for its confusions a n d clumsiness, i t has a s t r u c t u r e that deserves detailed analysis.

The P H E N O M E N O L O G Y

as

Art:

The World as Willful Representation Art is reason itself, a d o r n e d by genius, following a necessary course

and controlled by higher laws. —Delacroix, Journals

Hegel's much celebrated demonstration o f the “necessity” o f his convoluted progression m u s t always be juxtaposed with his o w n recognition o f the complementarity and continuous significance o f the

221

The Phenomenology of Spirıt

various “forms o f consciousness” that make u p the diversity o f human life. I n his later Logic (par. 25), for example, he looks back o n the Phenomenology, i n all o f its complexity, and remarks: I n m y Phenomenology o f the

Spirit, w h i c h

o n t h a t a c c o u n t was a t its

publication d e s c r i b e d as t h e first p a r t o f t h e S y s t e m o f Philosophy, t h e m e t h o d a d o p t e d w a s t o b e g i n w i t h t h e first a n d s i m p l e s t p h a s e

of mind, immediate consciousness, and t o show how that stage gradually o f necessity worked onward t o the philosophical point of view, the necessity o f that view being proved by the process. B u t i n these c i r c u m s t a n c e s i t was impossible t o restrict t h e quest t o the m e r e form

o f consciousness. For the stage o f philosophical knowledge is the richest i n material and organization, and therefore, as i t came before us i n the shape o f a result, i t presupposed the existence o f the concrete formations o f consciousness, such as individual a n d social morality, a r t a n d religion. I n the development o f consciousness, which

at first sight appears limited t o the point o f form merely, there is thus a t the same time included the development of the matter or of the objects discussed in the special branches o f philosophy. But the l a t t e r process must, s o t o s p e a k , g o o n b e h i n d consciousness, since

those facts are the essential nucleus which is raised into consciousness. T h e exposition accordingly is rendered more intricate, because

so much that properly belongs t o the turely dragged into the introduction.

concrete

branches is prema-

The Phenomenology may well be a demonstration o f the “philosophical point o f view,” but i t is also a broad panorama o f human forms o f life. From this perspective (which might also be called “philosophical”), the Phenomenology is not so m u c h a sequence o f forms o r ideas

as it 1s a multifaceted representation o f human life, complete with “concrete formations” and details. Indeed, i f only t o shake off the traditional single-sequence interpretation o f the book, let us suggest

a quite different perspective on the Phenomenology, more akin t o Goethe’s Faust t h a n to Fichte’s deductive Wissenschaftlehre. Suppose we

were t o compare the Phenomenology with a panoramic painting, rather t h a n a single-minded argument. What, then, would we see?

First o f all, we would give u p the idea that the book is a linear sequence (except insofar as any book, even a book by John Cage or Marshall McLuhan, is trapped within the linear medium o f type). But paintings aren’t linear either, not even a “linear” painting. Why not? Because, although one looks at a painting over a period o f time (even

i f only a few seconds), the painting itself doesn’t dictate the order o f looking. A n artist can make powerful suggestions (Van Gogh's cornfields come to m i n d ) , b u t t h e m e d i u m doesn’t dictate a direction. O n e can s t a r t anywhere, and allow one’s eye to follow the t e x t u r e s and

colors, the c o n t o u r s and chiaroscuro, as well as, perhaps, the lines.

222

Setting the Stage

This i n no sense makes the painting “illogical,” or the medium itself “arbitrary.” What might well be illogical, i n fact, is a n observer’s insis-

that the only way t o “read” a painting (the word is instructive) follow i t according to some pre-ordained system, to see the paint-

tence

is

to

ing through the theory rather than t o see what the painting itself is “about.” 6 Suppose we were to look at the Phenomenology as a painting, per-

haps an abstract expressionist or, better, an analytic cubist painting— though this would make i t far ahead o f its time. (An apt and appropriately contemporary analogy would be Delacroix’s magnificent Death of Sardanapalus, which was painted a t the height o f the Romantic era i n France, a few years later.®”) What we are given is a picture, a representation. B u t it is a picture not o f a single state o f affairs, rather o f

history, even o f “human nature.” What is a representation? T h e t e r m has a r i c h philosophical ancestry, for example, i n John Locke’ epistemology, i n which mental acts o r ideas are said to represent, that is, resemble and correspond to, ob-

jects i n the world. Weakly construed, a representation need only “stand for” what i t represents; strongly construed, a representation literally

imitates or reproduces (“re-presents”) its original. I n the German Idealist tradition, the notion o f representation takes o n a n even stronger sense, i n which the representation not only presents a certain form o r

position but also gives i t explicit form, which i t may n o t have otherwise. Thus a representative o f a district i n a republican government might well define his constituency and make demands o n its behalf which its members themselves would n o t make, and a representation of a person by way o f an artistic portrait might well bring o u t features and display a n aspect o f a personality which is

not

nearly so explicit

i n the person. A representation, i n other words, may go beyond mere correspondence w i t h what i t represents; nevertheless, there is a n obvious sense i n which a representation is bound to a set o f forms which

precede it. I n Hegel’s case, the representations o f the Phenomenology are bound to nothing less than the whole o f h u m a n experience, and t o presenting adequately what so much o f traditional philosophy has left o u t o f the picture.

6 6 . T h i s d i s t i n c t i o n h a s b r o k e n d o w n i n r e c e n t years, as T o m Wolfe p o i n t s o u t i n

his The Painted Word ( N e w York: Farrar, Straus a n d G i r o u x , 1975). Paintings n o w be-

come illustrations o f theories, a n d the viewing presupposes some knowledge o f the

theory. The shift is ironic, now that people often read philosophy without any compulsion whatever t o learn its presuppositions; they rather look on, as i f appreciating a painting i n a gallery. 6 7 . I compare H e g e l a n d Delacroix a t l e n g t h i n m y History a n d H u m a n Nature, c h .

13 ( “ T h e Classic a n d Romanticism Game”).

223

The Phenomenology of Spirit

Throughout his career, from the Differenz-essay ın 1801 t o hıs last Lectures on the history o f philosophy, Hegel insisted that “the ultmate aim and the business o f philosophy is to reconcile thought o r

the Concept (Begriff) with reality.”® That is, t o get the representation right, t o make i t “work,” t o make i t consistent, t o leave nothing o u t o f it. A n d “reality” includes not just the present state o f affairs but—as

i n all romantic art—history and genesis too, and the whole o f human nature. And so a “systematic” philosophy is one i n which everything is indeed represented, and i n its proper place. Leaving o u t nature, or history, o r selfishness would be to leave out a n essential piece o f the

picture. Is there any one way such a representation should be depicted? O f course n o t . But whatever way it is depicted, i t has t o hold together and fit everything in. For the representation t o be “scientific” is for it t o be articulate and actually worked out, as opposed, for example, t o a m e r e idea for a p a i n t i n g . T h u s c o n s i d e r e d , Hegel's at-

tack on Schellingian “intuition” was a precocious attack on “conceptual art,”

art

that, despite its name, 1s satished w i t h intention and dis-

®® penses with the “hard work o f realizing the Concept.” The comparison with painting is an illustration, a t best; the emphasis o n “representation” is t o be taken literally. But “representation” is n o t limited t o “the facts o f the case,” and philosophy is n o t a verbal trompe l'oeil description o f every little detail about human existence. I t selects o u t the forms o f human experience and represents them with a few judicious examples. I t goes beyond the facts of human experience to essences, to t h e emotions t h a t define a n experience (whatever the facts), to the desires and ambitions whose essence is t o deny the

facts and go beyond them. A representation is n o t (as i n Locke) something that stands between ourselves and the world b u t (as i n Kant) a

scheme of interpretation, of the world. A representation o f human existence is n o t a “proof” o f anything, t o be sure, but i t is, nevertheless, a demonstration, a way o f showing us a certain view o f life. Different representations give us different views, and different views are appropriate for different times, different cultures, different styles. (One would not expect a Rembrandt portrait to resemble a d e Kooning;

one is surprised and delighted when a Picasso resembles a “primitive” ceremonial drawing.) But this is n o t t o say that different representations cannot be compared and contrasted, evaluated as “more” or “less” representative—so long as one always remembers the standpoint from which 6 8 . Lectures o n the History of Philosophy, v o l . 3 , p . 5 4 5 . “Begriff” translated as “Concept” rather than “Notion.”

69. This

must

always be balanced with Schelling’s query i n his letter

to

Hegel o f

N o v . 2 , 1807, i n w h i c h h e confesses that h e fails t o u n d e r s t a n d Hegel's opposition o f i n t u i t i o n t o concept.

224

Setting the Stage

one is doing the evaluating. This is where Hegel waffles with his “absolute” standpoint—the standpoint of philosophy; it is, on the one hand, a standpoint; o n the other hand, i t is not. T h e assumption is, i n a sentence, that particular representations and perspectives may vary but the Concept, that is, conceptual thinking, is by its very n a t u r e universal and “unconditioned.”’® Hegel believes, on the absolutist analysis, that a perfectly clear representation o f human life is possible.

Nevertheless, from any particular standpoint (which is what we get i n

the Phenomenology) representations can be compared and contrasted, t o see how well they “represent”—even if, as i n modern a r t and literature, they are only “representing” themselves. Where a representation claims only to represent “the facts as they

are,” the business o f interpretation might be as simple as pointing o u t “the facts.” B u t in the representations o f philosophy, and i n particular, of Hegel's Phenomenology, i t is rarely the facts themselves t h a t are i n question. I t is their significance, their meaning, the various ways in which they can be and have been seen and interpreted. The Phenomenology, i n other words, 1s almost entirely a representation o f various representations o f life (which is n o t a t all t o say that i t is n o t also about life). Indeed, since the philosophers’ theories are about concepts we use t o understand our ordinary experience, one might even say that the book is largely a play-off o f representations o f representations o f representations (“representation®”). T h e problem, therefore, is to be

clear about the purpose o f such representations, which is virtually never merely t o depict the mere facts o f h u m a n existence, b u t almost

always t o provide some form of self-awareness.’! "This means n o t only the interrogation o f a particular philosopher and what he or she is after, but the interrogation o f a point of view (such as “when we ask sense-certainty what i means by. . ” ) 7 2 Hegel's underlying thesis is that every viewpoint makes an effort t o become all-encompassing, and the question is always why one should hold this particular position i n contrast to certain others. Sometimes, as i n a childs drawing, the answer may be mere naiveté; elsewhere, as i n a “childlike” New Yorker cover 70.

Science o f Logic,

Miller

trans.,

p. 600f.

71. Hegel, Lectures on Aesthetics (Berlin i n the 1920s), especially the Introduction, i n a n e w t r a n s l a t i o n b y T . M . K n o x ( O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press, 1979) a n d Schelling’s System o f Transcendental Idealism. 72. T h e s e different l e v e l s o f representation a r e i n t u r n r e p r e s e n t e d by t h r e e differe n t “ v o i c e s ” i n t h e P G , a p u r e l y d e s c r i p t i v e v o i c e ( o f t h e form o f consciousness i t s e l f ) a

more polemical and philosophical voice (expounding and defending that form o f consciousness), a n d the reflective omniscient voice o f H e g e l himself, w h o has gone t h r o u g h t h e process a n d i s repeating i t “ f o r u s . ” B u t n o n e o f t h e s e voices i s p o s s i b l e w i t h o u t the the l o w e r v o i c e s t h a t g i v e t h e upper v o i c e s t h e i r c o n t e n t , a n d t h e give t h e l o w e r v o i c e s t h e i r prompting a n d t h e i r articulateness.

others, s i n c e i t i s higher v o i c e s t h a t

The Phenomenology of Spirit

225

drawing, the answer may be a sophisticated response which includes not only reflections o n childhood naivete b u t nostalgia a n d a host o f complex artistic theories as

well.

H o w does one evaluate a representation? O n e sees whether i t succeeds i n doing what i t sets o u t to d o . T h i s means, o f course, that there can b e n o evaluation without knowing the intentions behind i t and the context within which i t is supposed to serve as a representation.

How inclusive a representation should be depends on its intentions and context; what counts as internal consistency—whether the representation “ w o r k s — ” also depends o n its intentions and c o n t e x t . But where the intentions and c o n t e x t include the representation o f the whole o f human existence—as the Romantic artists and Hegel insisted—one can indeed complain if anything essential t o life and selfunderstanding is left o u t or under-appreciated. This demand, which is itself a “standpoint”, is the criterion for Hegel's “Absolute.” Thus Fichte provided a representation o f the human will but neglected the realm o f nature. T h u s Spinoza (or so Hegel charged) emphasized the

unity o f substance but underplayed the importance o f spirit, consciousness, and will. T h u s Descartes and Kant included both con-

sciousness and physical n a t u r e but failed t o give them both an integrated place i n the representation. B u t “consciousness” and “nature,” taken b y themselves, are m e r e abstractions. O n e does not represent them as such. (Their names alone d o not yet count as representations;

they are just the titles o f representations.) One needs the details, the forms o f consciousness i n which they are represented, which 1s not t o say, i n a “philosophy o f nature,” for example, that one must i n any

sense display (much less “deduce”) every single blade o f grass. I n deed, a n artist w h o tried to d o so (the one-hair brushstrokes o f the

Flemish masters) might well present a faulty representation no less than a child-artist who fails t o adjoin the grass and sky or draws the eyes a t the top o f the face. What does this do t o the notion o f “necessity” i n the Phenomenology? Within a representation, there is indeed a kind of “necessity,” a sense o f order, proportion, and perspective. But this does n o t mean that t h e r e 1s only o n e way to l o o k at i t , o r o n e way o f depicting i t . A n d indeed, where it is life as a whole that is being represented, the “necessity” is made all the m o r e complicated b y the fact t h a t the essence

of (conceptual) life itself is representation, according

to

Hegel, and

so there are always representations within the representations, embedded theories a n d interpretations even i n the seemingly most

“factual” judgments o f the philosophers. The necessity o f the Phenomenology, therefore, largely consists i n the placement and order of

226

Setting the Stage

these higher-order representations, theories i n response t o theories, interpretations i n juxtaposition t o other interpretations. I t is not a logic o f implication, however, so much as a logic o f contrasts, the one hgure m a k i n g sense only as a response t o another. There need not be

any hxed starting point, and there may n o t be a concluding point either. The “Internal necessity” o f the Phenomenology is rather any of a number o f paths o u r attention follows i n our growing appreciation o f Hegel's ultimate conclusion, which is not a p a r t o f the representa-

tion but rather the totality o f the representation itself. I n other words, you cannot properly appreciate a p a r t o f the painting unless you get a glimpse o f the whole. B u t that necessity presupposes the strategy o f the Phenomenology itself which, like many great paintings, provides us

with recognizable and seemingly unavoidable necessities within.” What does this mean i n t e r m s o f our reading o f the Phenomenology? First, i t means that we should read the book as a representation, a n

artistic rendering—but through concepts (Begriffe) rather than visual images (Vorstellungen)—of human representations o f life. I n this, it might better be compared t o Goethe’s Faust than Kant’s first Critique, as we have suggested i n other contexts. Second, we can view i t as a demonstration—a showing—without thereby construing it as so many commentators

have tried and failed t o do—as a proof or a deduction

o f a certain conclusion. T h i r d , we can understand the inner “neces-

sity” o f the work i n t e r m s of the order of its parts, without thereby supposing that there 1s any necessary starting point, or any necessary end point, or any specifically “necessary” r o u t e for our eye t o follow. B u t this does not mean that one can catch isolated and discontinuous glimpses, as i f one were to view detached pieces o f canvas, o r leat

through the Phenomenology reading a page or section here, a page or chapter there. The Phenomenology is not, as Findlay has suggested, a mere collection o f insights and arguments. One must follow continuously, but i n no particular order and, possibly, i n several different sweeps o f attention. Fourth, this means—contrary t o the insistence o f many commentators and perhaps against Hegel's own occasional claims—that there is no single way of reaching “the Absolute” —that is, seeing the whole picture—no definitive sequence o f forms as well as n o starting point and no s e t point o f completion. I n other words, one could start reading the Phenomenology almost anywhere. One could reorder chapters and sections, redistribute the arguments, and even t u r n the book upside down, as Marx and Feuerbach more or less suggested. N o matter where one begins, one moves quite naturally, 73. For a graphic representation o f this “logic,” i n appropriately perverse form, see Jacques Derrida’s very Hegelian Glas (Paris: Editions Galilée, 1974).

227

The Phenomenology of Spirit

“necessarily,” t o those other parts of the representation without which i t c o u l d n o t b e a complete representation o f (representations of) life,

a “system,” a “phenomenology o f the human Spirit.” Some alterations, o f course, would require gigantic alterations almost everywhere else; for example, i f o n e began the book w i t h the chapter o n “ u n h a p p y consciousness” o r the chapter o n the Enlightenment. ( I f you move just the nose o n a portrait, you have t o repaint everything else too.)

O n the other hand, some alterations require minimal adjustment, for instance, beginning the book with chapter 4 and the discussion of “life and desire” or, perhaps, beginning one’s reading with the discussion o f “rational self-consciousness” (chapter 5).7* Indeed, one could vary one’s reading only t o discover that m o s t o f the philosophers i n the history o f the discipline can be identified i n part by where they began or would have begun their reading o f the Phenomenology. Fichte begins i n chapter 5; Machiavelli i n chapter 4, Reinhold Niebuhr i n chapter 7, and Rousseau i n chapter 6. Schelling, according t o Hegel, starts his reading i n chapter 8, and thereby loses his m o m e n t u m . Hegel intends for us t o start, o f course, with the introduction and chapter 1. Presuming that we d o , the sequence flows “naturally,” insofar as Hegel takes us t h r o u g h at least one o f the m o r e continuous routes. B u t his is n o t the only route, and perhaps, i n terms o f over-all continuity a n d o u r over-all sense o f the representation, n o t even the best

o f them. I f one continues t o think o f the Phenomenology as a single and uniquely

logical progression of forms, the over-all intention of which is t o “prove” something (the Absolute), t h e n Hegel will indeed, as so m a n y commentators

have complained, seem arbitrary, illogical, n o t t r u e t o his

o w n “method.” B u t if, o n the o t h e r h a n d , o n e views the Phenomenology as a whole as a picture, as conceptual art, as a representation

o f life striving for unity, then the “necessity” o f its movements is o f another kind. I t is a demonstration, n o t a deduction; a depiction, n o t a proof. The dialectic is n o t a “method” but a display i n contrasts. 74. I n general, any discussion o f k n o w l e d g e eventually leads t o a recognition o f t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f p r a c t i c e s , a n d a n y d i s c u s s i o n o f practical a c t i v i t i e s l e a d s s o o n e n o u g h t o

a discussion of knowledge, frameworks, paradigms, and “the facts.” Any discussion of “ t h e facts” will eventually h a v e t o t u r n t o a discussion o f t h e o r i e s , frameworks o f interp r e t a t i o n , a n d p a r a d i g m s , b u t a n y d i s c u s s i o n o f theories will s o o n e n o u g h h a v e t o t u r n

t o t h e facts. A defense o f selfishness inevitably has t o c o n f r o n t o u r desire t o b e with, b e

liked by, a n d cooperate with other people, and any defense o f community spirit a n d shared values has t o make room for individual roles and identities. Starting anywhere eventually leads everywhere, a n d t h e “ l o g i c ” o f Hegel is that n o complete account o f

life can leave any o f these items (and many others) behind.

It

is the demand for com-

pleteness that drives t h e dialectic, that leads u s from o n e form t o a n o t h e r u n t i l we have o u r t o t a l r e p r e s e n t a t i o n o f life. 75. F o r example, Findlay, Taylor, K a u f m a n n , Bergmann, t o name j u s t a few.

228

Setting the Stage

The Phenomenology is a great book n o t because i t establishes the Absolute but because i t presents us with an ideal portrait of the complex u n i t y a n d contradictoriness o f h u m a n life, without losing o u r sense

o f either.”

Dialectic a n d “the Development o f the Concept” . w r o t e over every square inch o f the only foolscap available, his own body . . . thereby, he said, reflecting his own person . . . transaccidented through slow fires o f consciousness i n t o a d i v i d u a l chaos,

common t o all flesh, human only, mortal . . . —James Joyce, Finnegans Wake

The Phenomenology 1s a representation o f (representations o f ) the varied forms that make u p o u r view(s) o f h u m a n life. H o w are these

related? I n what sense do we follow these forms or concepts—or i n what sense d o they follow one another? I n a painting, forms lead one to another because they are spatially contiguous, o r they share a comm o n color, o r balance each other o n opposite sides o f the canvas.

None o f those factors works i n philosophy, except i n the not-at-all interesting sense that chapters are also contiguous and sections share a common concern o r balance one another i n their claims. N o n e o f

this is sufficient t o explain the “dialectic” o f the Phenomenology, which everyone agrees has a necessity i n some sense infrinsic to i t , a n d this

necessity is called “the self-realization o f Spirit”—through “the Concept.” But what does this mean? Well, first o f all, i t is worth repeating the point with which we began this discussion, namely, that whatever else i t may be, the Phenomenology is n o t a chronology. I t is n o t a “history o f the human Spirit” or “the autobiography o f God.””” I f looking a t only the chapter and section headings, i t 1s clear that only a few forms o f consciousness are tied t o specific historical movements (e.g. the ancient Greek philosophies o f Stoicism a n d Skepticism (Phenomenology, 197) a n d t h e E n lightenment and the revolutionary Reign o f Terror (Phenomenology 538, 582). Kant appears several times, i n chapter 3 (both “understanding” and “the supersensible world” are references t o the first Critique), i n chapter 5, p a r t C (“Reason as lawgiver” a n d “Reason as

testing laws” are both clear references t o his second Critique) and i n chapter 6, part C (under “morality”). Antigone and ancient Greek folk 76. Taylor, p. 127. 77. For example, Findlay, Sterling, McTaggart.

229

The Phenomenology of Spirit

religion appear i n chapter 6 (Phenomenology, 446) preceded by Romanticism and Rousseau as well as Kant i n chapter 5. There is no need t o go on. But this is n o t t o say either that the Phenomenology has nothing t o do with history, and n o t only i n the openly historical chapters (6 and 7).

Second, also by way o f repetition, the Phenomenology is n o t an argument, not a deduction, n o t a proof. I t s transitions are i n virtually n o stance logical inferences, although to b e sure, the Phenomenology

is filled with arguments. Hegel rejects the Cartesian program more completely than m o s t philosophers, for he rejects n o t only its dualist metaphysics (which today has become as much o f an indictment, a reductio ad absurdum, as a position as such). H e also rejects the whole

idea that philosophy m u s t begin with premises o r “first principles” which are accepted from the o u t s e t and then derive or deduce a number o f consequences which are its “results.” For Hegel, it is the whole process of doing philosophy that constitutes its “truth,” or as Kant said, there is no teaching philosophy, for philosophy is n o t a subject matter: i t is a discipline that one learns only b y doing. B u t doing philoso-

phy includes making mistakes as well as deriving truths. Waxing paradoxical, one m i g h t say (and Hegel does) that errors are p a r t o f the t r u t h , even essential to it (Phenomenology, 38). T h e movement o f the

Phenomenology, unlike a series o f deductive proofs, is n o t from truth t o t r u t h b u t rather, i n a sense, from error t o error. O n e might say,

according t o the preceding paradox, that the “truth” o f life consists i n our various “errors” o f representation o f it.”? B u t without the paradox, what Hegel is saying (along with Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Spinoza, Schopenhauer, and many other philosophers) is that the “truth”

o f life Is the activity o f thinking about it, i n what Aristotle called “the life o f contemplation.” What one thinks initially is not so important as

that one thinks—for thinking, once begun, tends t o follow its own impetus. And this impetus is what Hegel calls “the rigor o f the Concept.” Thinking need n o t be deducing; contemplation is n o t proof; and yet “ t h e Concept” develops according

to

a “logic,” nonetheless,

and i t is this “logic” that determines the formidable s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology. I f the internal principle o f consciousness 1s, as Hegel thinks it is, the demand for total comprehension o f the world o f o u r experience, 78. This paradox, o r pseudo-paradox, can be found i n much the same form many years later, i n Nietzsche. Nietzsche also insists o n t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f “ e r r o r ” i n what we call t h e t r u t h , l e a d i n g h i m t o such superficially a b s u r d pronouncements as “mankind’s

truths . . . are the irrefutable errors” (Gay Science, #265) and

“truth

is error” (Will to

Power # 4 5 4 ) . F o r a g o o d d i s c u s s i o n o f t h i s , see A r t h u r D a n t o ’ s Nietzsche as Philosopher

( N e w Y o r k : Free Press, 1965), ch. 2.

230

Setting the Stage

then the “logic” o f the Phenomenology is a progression o f approximations, representations o f life whose sequence is determined, in a sense, by their own inadequacies. A woman finally divorces her brutish hus-

band and marries a “mouse”; an accountant quits his job and becomes a H a r Krishna. Are these “logical” progressions? I n the logicians’ sense—no; b u t i n a perfectly ordinary sense—vyes. I f x has been tried a n d exhausted, w h y not try not = x next? B u t not j u s t , “ n o t = x ”

(that is, anything other than x), but a very specific (“determinate”) n o t = x , its very opposite. A n d sometimes, this is precisely the s t r u c t u r e

o f the Phenomenology; one representation (or “form o f consciousness”) fails, and so another is chosen t o take its place. B u t the alternative 1s not always its “opposite”; sometimes i t is a variation o f the first form, o r a n exaggeration o r a n extreme form o f i t . Occasionally, i t is some-

thing seemingly entirely different, especially when n o t just a single form but a whole line of representations has been shown t o be inadequate. B u t the i m p o r t a n t p o i n t to make here, a n d again and again, is that the transition from the first form to the second, o r the transi-

tion from the first form o f the Phenomenology all the way t o the last, is i n any way a deductive necessity. The connections are anything but entailments, and the Phenomenology could always take another route and other starting points.” Can we generalize about the transitions and, therefore, the over-all structure o f Hegel's Phenomenology?—his “dialectic”? I n a limited way not

only.’ Every transition consists o f two steps; the first is a n argument

within a form o f consciousness i n order t o show how i t is incomplete, inconsistent, or otherwise inadequate by its own standards. The second is the postulation o f a n alternative form, which is a “determinate negation” o f the first i n the sense that i t cannot be just any alternative

but m u s t share

at

least the standard o f the first. That is, a scientific

79. I t is for this reason that a formalization o f Hegel's logic, however ingenious, is

impossible. See for example, Michael Kosok’s bold attempt i n “ A Formalization of Hegel’s Logic,” i n MacIntyre, Hegel. I t is the very essence of Hegel's transitions i n both the P G and t h e Logic t h a t they a r e n o t , as he himself tells us, “ d e t e r m i n a t e ” ; t h e r e is n o single sequence, a n d n o sense i n which the form alone, apart from the context a n d the

ultimate principle (of total comprehension), determines any sequence a t all. One might suggest that the ultimate principle could be turned i n t o a general rule o f inference (e.g.

(p and not-p)” or, aping Leibniz and Schelling “ A = A”— whatever the A, but i t is transparently clear that, even i f one can translate Hegel's transitions into the form o f some such argument, that is very different from being able to reproduce them as proofs, not

which i s t h e p o i n t o f formalization. Hegel’s transitions a r e a l l context-bound; i t i s t h e v e r y p o i n t o f formal l o g i c t o a b s t r a c t f r o m c o n t e x t a n d limit i t s e l f t o transition w h i c h

h o l d i n any context whatever. Whatever else Hegel's Logic m a y be, i t is n o t a n a t t e m p t t o

results o f t h e Principia Mathematica. 80. I offer a hypothesis regarding the general pattern o f the Phenomenology i n the “Note on Reason and Dialectic” following Chapter 8. The analysis o f the transitions anticipate the

themselves is given i n some detail i n Chapter 7 b, with the focus o n the transition from “Sense-Certainty” t o “Perception.”

The Phenomenology of Spirit

231

theory can only be replaced b y a scientific theory, a moral theory can only be replaced b y a moral theory, a n d so on. But, o f course, there

is no single standard i n any form o f consciousness; a hedonist wants pleasure, but on examination he w a n t s pleasure in order to make him feel fulhlled, and so the

next

step need n o t follow the collapse o f

hedonism with a new scheme for gaining pleasure; it may instead reject that standard a n d accept the m o r e general one. A n d so o n for all forms o f consciousness, all o f which share one ultimate standard,

“total comprehension.” The first step can be carried o n with rigor and, even, a series o f logical deductions o f consequences. B u t the second step, which moves the Phenomenology, 1s never wholly determinate. Thus the m o s t frequent transition 1s the b y n o means “logical” leap to opposites. Every concept o r form makes its o w n distinctions a n d thereby contrasts it-

self with an opposite—black and white, good and evil, reward and punishment, beauty and ugliness, pleasure and pain, autonomy and obedience, particular and universal, one and many, satisfaction and dissatisfaction, happiness and misery. When one form has been exhausted, therefore, the m o s t “natural” move is t o its opposite, just as an eye that is tired o f light leaps t o the shade, an eye that is jaded with green tends t o see a reddish after-image, and so on. T h u s the development o f the Concept, i n one sense, takes place by a process o f

reaction formation. A philosophy based wholly o n immediately intuited particulars (e.g. “sense certainty” i n chapter 1, “self-certainty” i n chapter 4, “pleasure” in chapter 5, and “pre-reflective family life” i n chapter 6), once i t has been seen as inadequate o r incomplete, “naturally” moves t o the opposite, a philosophy based wholly o n “me-

diated” universals (“perception” i n chapter 2, an abstract universal “soul” i n chapter 4, “morality” i n chapter 5, “civil law” i n chapter 6). A philosophy too concerned with self leaps t o a philosophy overly concerned with others, and a philosophy too obsessed with the passivity of consciousness i n knowledge (empiricism) “naturally” moves on t o a philosophy equally obsessed with the activity o f the understanding (Kant and the German Idealists.) Simple association and the play o f “opposites” will explain only so much, however. The “dialectic” o f the Phenomenology is not a tennis match but a journey; i t doesn’t just go back and forth, it moves around.

How and why does i t do this? I insisted t h a t the Phenomenology is n o t historical, but a t the same time, Hegel intends his dialectic (as everyone knows) t o apply t o history as well. B u t history is

other,” according

to

contingent—"“one

d a m n t h i n g after an-

poet John Masefield. Philosophy consists of forms

232

Setting the Stage

and concepts, not facts and events. But there is a n easy interpretation to

this often troublesome duality, and Aristotle got i t years ago. “Po-

etry”, h e said, “is m o r e scientific and serious than history, because poetry gives us general truths, while history gives us only particular

facts.” What drives the dialectic, in other words, is the urge t o increasingly general comprehension, which Hegel says is the “intrinsic principle” o f human consciousness. Suppose we were sitting d o w n to write a textbook, a n introduction to a r t through the ages, a n introduction to a certain branch o f mathematics, o r a n introduction t o philosophy. One might, o f course, take

the easy way o u t and simply list the various persons and movements along with their discoveries or creations, i n chronological or alphabetical order. But what is much more informative and thoughtprovoking is t o tell a story in which the subject matter is the art, o r

the mathematics, or the philosophy itself, relegating individuals and movements t o biographical footnotes. Thus one might well begin a course i n h i s t o r y o f a r t w i t h Picasso o r the m o d e r n minimalists; a

discussion o f mathematics might begin with a theorem t h a t was n o t discovered until a few years ago, and a study i n philosophy might s t a r t with a n editorial i n yesterday's newspaper just as well as with

Thales and Anaximander. After Picasso (let’s say, his goat-head constructed

out

o f a bicycle

seat and handlebars) one could move quite easily to a contrast between a r t based o n technical virtuosity a n d a r t based o n “seeing” con-

nections, or t o the c o n t r a s t between simplicity and complexity, comparing Picasso n o t only with minimalism but the stark classicism o f early Greece and the early 19th century and certain medieval depictions o f Christ, all i n c o n t r a s t t o the decorative extravagance o f late Greek Hellenism, the 18th-century rococo, and early abstract expressionism. I n mathematics, one could present a sequence o f proofs, each o f which suggests (but b y n o means requires) another, and these may o r may not approximate the historical sequence i n which they were

actually discussed, debated, and proved. And i n philosophy, one can introduce “the free will problem” without any discussion whatever of its historical origins, bringing i n various attempted solutions and objections t o them without mentioning o r only marginally referring t o the philosophers or the times that produced them. The crude dichotomy that has seemed so insurmountable t o critics of Hegel and others?! between the contingency o f history and the 81. Notoriously E d m u n d Husserl, i n his Crisis in European Sciences and Transcendental Philosophy, trans. D . Carr, (Evanston: Northwestern U n i v . Press, 1970), discussed w i t h special regard to this question

western U n i v . Press, 1978).

in

C a r r ' s History a n d Phenomenology ( E v a n s t o n : N o r t h -

The Phenomenology of Spirit

233

necessity o f logic may n o t be much o f a distinction after all. O f course things “happen” without regard for our expectations and one can indeed discuss abstract relations between concepts without any attempt whatsoever to instantiate these with examples from history. B u t — t o r e t u r n t o Hegel's central metaphor, the fact that a t r e e fails t o grow (because o f drought, bad soil, being abused by too many dogs) does not mean that i t does n o t have its predetermined “logic” for growth.

A n d the fact that i n a botany class one can discuss i n considerable

detail the various stages o f development and the mechanisms does not mean that the same discussion would make any sense at a l l i f

there were no such plant. What Hegel is doing i n the Phenomenology is presenting the development o f the forms of human experience, i.e. “the Concept” as a sequence, i n which the examples need not be in anything resembling historical o r d e r b u t nevertheless represent a sequence which can b e found i n time, i f n o t invariably. I t is a sequence

which moves mainly by “opposites,” and its general direction is the direction o f increasing generality. I n the Preface o f the Phenomenology, Hegel tells us that the life o f spirit and t h e development o f the forms o r concepts o f consciousness follow a path o f development more o r less parallel to the conceptual

development o f an individual—in fact, he tells us that the development o f t h e individual follows the stages o f Spirit that have already

“been made level with toil” (“The single individual must also pass t h r o u g h the formative stages o f universal Spirit so far as their content

is concerned, but as shapes which Spirit has already left behind” (Phenomenology, 28).) The evolutionary analogies should be obvious here, despite the fact t h a t (fifty years before Darwin) Hegel did n o t see through to what we ( i n retrospect) see as a n almost obvious move. B u t

i t is this same retrospect that gives Hegel his confidence i n describing as a process of development a process which (so far as we know) has happened only once—namely, the conceptual evolution o f “the human mind.” Is there a universal “logic” i n our conceptual development, a path which m u s t be followed? We hardly have a sampling t o show us this, and what approximations we have (e.g. cross-cultural studies) tend t o be ethnocentric and biased.®? Discussing plants, we now can refer with considerable specificity t o the genetics and biochemistry of developm e n t as a n e x p l a n a t i o n o f g r o w t h , b u t i t is n o t difficult to imagine

that Hegel and Goethe i n their time could only appeal, as Aristotle had appealed 2500 years before them, t o some vague “internal prin82. F o r a g o o d discussion o f t h e p r o b l e m s i n v o l v e d h e r e , see R o b e r t R . Sears, “Transcultural Variables and Conceptual Equivalence,”

i n Problems

search ( N e w Y o r k : Social Science Research Council, 1955).

o f C r o s s - C u l t u r a l Re-

234

Setting the Stage

ciple” A n d indeed, that is where Hegel was (and we are too) w i t h

regard

to

the ambitious question o f the “logic” of conceptual devel-

opment. We suppose that we did indeed develop by such and such a

path. We discern minor, maybe major, variations i n the development o f intelligence i n o t h e r cultures. B u t the most we can say is t h a t i t m u s t have been “necessary” for us to develop more o r less as we d i d . B u t i t is the “ m o r e o r less” that is the r u b ; how can we know what

variations are possible? O r what alternative conceptual frameworks or forms o f intelligence might be available? These are monstrous questions, and we are no closer t o answering them than Hegel was. B u t he was, i n his hesitant way, the philosopher who asked them, 170

years ago. Does this mean that there is n o account to b e given o f “ t h e development o f the Concept”? N o t at all. We can, at least, present a n all-

encompassing picture o f the forms of human experience, i n an order that lets us see, i f n o t a precise hierarchy o f stages, at least the way that tutored consciousness tends t o move from one form o r another. I t is n o t m e r e history. I t i s not, as so often suggested, a series o f reduc-

tio ad absurdum arguments i n which a form is shown t o be selfcontradictory and then rejected i n favor o f another.®® I t is rather, as one m i g h t write the history o f philosophy, a discursive presentation

and criticism of various forms, movements, problems and their proposed solutions; i t is a quasi-history, a s o r t of logic, but—strictly speaking—neither. N o history o f philosophy is “complete,” i n one sense; even Copleston

edits o u t “minor” philosophers who do

not

fit i n his table o f

contents. I t is never wholly coherent, since the John Locke who wrote the second Treatise on Government is best treated i n one chapter and

the John Locke who w r o t e the Essay Concerning Human Understanding i n another. The story will always be disjointed, but the alternative— t o follow a single thread o u t o f c o n t e x t like Lovejoy’s Great Chain of Being—is much less satisfactory. And when it is the representations o f life as a whole that are being represented, rather than the m o r e o r less self-contained s t u d y o f a single “discipline,” one can be sure that

the canvas will be all the more cluttered, disjointed, and t h a t everyone will find something t h a t has been under-presented. (Marxists, for example, have complained ever since Marx that the forms o f power and economic need play too little role i n the Phenomenology, and the forms of philosophy t o o much.) 8 3 . A c t u a l l y , i t i s s a i d t o b e aufgehoben, “ l i f t e d u p ” o r “ c a n c e l l e d a n d p r e s e r v e d . ” B u t s o much o f H e g e l ' s language, t h i s t e r m h a s o f t e n been s n a t c h e d from i t s contexts t o d o t h e w o r k o f analysis; all i t really says i s t h a t a form i s never simply r e j e c t e d b u t

like

analyzed, evaluated, e n l a r g e d , o r replaced b y o n e a k i n t o i t (even its opposite).

The Phenomenology of Spirit

235

If, because o f the likelihood o f criticism a n d the hubris o f such a n

endeavor, we have tended

to

give u p on such “speculauve” history

and philosophy, that is surely o u r loss. Because the point is

that

we

do think that way i n any case, encapsulating the whole o f human experience into a platitude o r two, the whole course o f h u m a n history

represented by a single incident— Auschwitz o r Munich o r the expulsion from Eden—and we summarize the whole o f human n a t u r e with a simple word such as “selfishness” o r “insecurity” o r “love.” And i f both historians and philosophers prefer t o pooh-pooh the Hegelian enterprise a n d t u r n instead to m o r e h u m b l e endeavors, then who is

going t o provide us with the Big Picture, which provides the background i f n o t also the “logic” o f our thinking? Who is going t o select those forms o f consciousness t h a t are essential t o our experience, that define the way we think about ourselves and our place i n the world? B u t h e r e we come back to t h e historicist viewpoint

that

H e g e l himself

always hesitated t o defend; the “development o f the Concept” 1s neither history nor logic but, in every case, a way of perceiving the present, a myth—in the classical sense, a story based o n “ t h e facts” b u t b y n o means confined t o them i n which o u r present form o f consciousness is given some meaning—a history and, perhaps, a sense o f destiny.®

And i f Hegel’s point is t o show us, for each o f the forms he discusses i n the Phenomenology, that it is incomplete, the proper conclusion for the historicist H e g e l (anathema to the absolute idealist Hegel) is that our form o f consciousness is incomplete t o o . The development o f the

Concept, i n other words, is just as Socrates said i t should be—the increasing appreciation o f o u r o w n ignorance, and what we d o not yet

understand.

The Structure of The Phenomenology o f Spirit, o r Lack o f It The passion exists i n every one o f us. We do n o t t o be ours alone. —Isaac Bashevis Singer

w a n t our

experience

How should one read the Phenomenology? One must read, Evelyn Wood notwithstanding, line by line, page by page, i f n o t word by word. But there is a sense i n which the traditional Hegel-pundits are right when 84. Again, one should p o i n t o u t the absurdity o f that common Hegel-interpretation

that makes h i m n o t only unconcerned about the future but unwilling t o admit its exist e n c e . Destiny Is a n i m p o r t a n t i n g r e d i e n t i n t h e Phenomenology as i t w a s i n s o m e o f his earlier writings and i n the temper o f the times i n general. Goethe was always talking about “fate” and “destiny,” for example, and it is Kierkegaard i n 1846, n o t Hegel i n 1806, w h o tends t o l i v e life “backwards.”

236

Setting the Stage

they say: “You won’t understand anything until you've completed it all”—though not i n the self-serving sense i n which this is usually uttered (namely, “You have no right t o complain until the end of the course, and n o t t h e n either”). T h e book is a representation, and you cannot appreciate i t w i t h just part o f the picture (as one can, perhaps,

with the first two-thirds o f Kant’s first Critique or a few well-chosen arguments from Hume’ Treatise). B u t i f i t 1s essential to complete the whole, i t does n o t follow that i t is necessary to follow the book from

beginning t o end. I would argue that the general trail of “Spirit,” which m o s t commentators take t o be the essence o f the Phenomenology is o f relatively little importance; it is marred by the m o s t obscure t r a n sitions and unbreachable continuities and i n any case i t 1s the product o f philosophical ambitions which are no longer o f any interest or significance t o us, except perhaps negatively. What is o f importance are the particular transitions from form t o form, motivated i n every case by a certain discomfort within each form which have t o be investigated a case a t a time, rather than i n one grand declaration about contradiction, “aufheben” and “the realization o f the Concept.” I t is i n the smaller sequences—the first chapters, the Master-Slave dialectic, the sequence o f “ethical” theories, and the long chapter o n “Spirit"—where we see the structure o f “dialectic” a t work. B u t even

within those sequences, we should be extremely cautious about joining the army o f commentators (and often Hegel too) who speak of “higher” syntheses and movement “up” or “forward.” The Phenomenology 1s indeed a movement, o r rather a set of m o v e m e n t s , a n odyssey, as Hegel later said i t was, a wandering, like Faust, with skips and jumps and

slow meanderings. Those who take Hegel a t his word and look for a “ladder” or a path or yellow brick road t o the Absolute are bound t o be disappointed. The Phenomenology is a conceptual landscape, through which Hegel leads us somewhat a t his whim.®®

85. I n a letter o f J u l y 30, 1808, Schelling wrote (to K.]J.H. Windischmann) “ , . . i t would be very w r o n g . . . t o let h i m get away w i t h the manner i n which h e wants t o

make a general standard o f what is i n accord with and granted t o his individual nature” ( K a u f m a n n , 323).

Chapter Five

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology: The Preface When Hegel had finished the Phenomenology, he refiected retrospectively on the philosophical enterprise and w r o t e the “Preface,” differe n t f r o m t h e introduction. . . . I t 1s a strange demonstration, for h e says

above all, “Don’t take me seriously in a preface. The real philosophical w o r k 1s w h a t I have j u s t written, The Phenomenology o f Spirit. A n d i f 1 speak to y o u outside o f what I have written, . . . these marginal comments cannot have the value o f the work itself. Furthermore, I a m

going t o write a very different work, which will be a speculative logic.” The “Preface” is thus situated between Hegel's main t w o works, . . . the t w o works Hegel represents i n his Preface. —Jean Hyppolite, “The Structure of Philosophic Language i n the ‘Preface’ of Hegel's Phenomenology.”

We have been trying

to

say with some clarity what it 1s that the Phe-

nomenology is supposed to be, what it is supposed t o do, and what its famous “dialectical” structure is supposed to represent. B u t H e g e l

provides us with his own view of the book, in an infamously difhcult piece o f writing which serves as the Preface. This was written (like most

prefaces) after he had completed the writing of the book and

(also like most prefaces) with a transparent attitude o f defensiveness. A t o n e and t h e same time, it is a n attempt to protect h i m s e l f from criticism, to make clear—as the text itself does not—exactly what h e

1s trying t o do i n the volume, which by his own calculation was twice too long and grossly disproportioned, and t o make it evident—if the language and complexity of the book do n o t already do so—just how important a work this is t o be. B u t i n reading the Preface it is important to r e m e m b e r t h a t this is m o r e o f a statement about w h a t d i d not

find its way into the t e x t than a description o f

for

example, a n introduction

what

is t o follow. I t is,

t o t h e m a t e r i a l t h a t w a s originally

237

to

be

238

Setting the Stage

the main t e x t o f the Phenomenology, but had t o be postponed, instead, t o his n e x t work, the Science of Logic (1812). Much o f what he says i n the later parts o f the Preface (about “speculative thinking” and “Science”) 1s more properly preliminary t o the n e x t book than t o this one. I f t h e Phenomenology is a n “ i n t r o d u c t i o n ” to the later system, it is o n l y

the Preface that serves this role, for the Phenomenology itself had taken o n a life o f its own. With this i n m i n d , we might well remember T.S.

Eliot’s warning about his own poetry—*“I am in no better position than anyone else t o know what my work means.” We should n o t assume that the Preface is only, o r even primarily, o u r entry to the Phenomenology. I n d e e d , i t may even be a n obstacle o n o u r way to it.

Part I : A Preface to the Preface:

Philosophical Truth Whoever has understood the Preface t o the Phenomenology has understood Hegel. —Hermann Glockner B y far, the best part o f the Phenomenology is its Preface. —W. Kaufmann

I t has often been said, a n d recanted as a matter o f routine, that anyone w h o understands t h e Preface to the Phenomenology thereby u n -

derstands Hegels philosophy. I n a sense n o t intended, this may be t r u e . T h a t is, o n e c a n n o t possibly u n d e r s t a n d t h e Preface w i t h o u t already understanding Hegel’s very difficult philosophy—and then, his Logic rather t h a n the Phenomenology.! T h e Preface was written I n even greater haste than the r e s t o f the book, when the author was already removed from his text, t i r e d o f it, glib about i t , a n d i n a h u r r y t o see i t i n p r i n t . Consequently, i t is a n obscure a n d r a m b l i n g d o c u -

ment, w i t h a few spectacular aphorisms and hints o f the bold experim e n t that follows, b u t virtually impossible t o read without frustration, i f n o t i n d i g n a t i o n as well. T h e r e are topics, discussed w i t h o u t any aid to

the reader, which presuppose the very specialized jargon of the

German Idealists—and even then, Schelling himself complained that

he did n o t know how Hegel was using his key

terms.

There are allu-

sions made t o figures n o t named, even t h o u g h it is quite clear that

Hegel has someone very particular i n mind. The language 1s obscure t o begin with, but Hegel soon finds a special delight i n twisting his t e r m s around i n playful paradoxes, e.g. his notorious use o f the con1. “ I f P then Q ” is equivalent t o “ I f not-Q, then not-P”; understanding the Preface sufficient condition for u n d e r s t a n d i n g Hegel.

i s a consequence r a t h e r t h a n a

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

239

“ i n itself” and “for itself” and his dubious use of the circle metaphor (“it is a t the end what i t was a t the beginning,” whereas the end and beginning are i n fact quite distinct). And worst of all, he teases his readers without satistying them (but then again, one c a n n o t get satisfaction from a preface). H e t a u n t s his critics, blaming them in advance for blaming him instead o f themselves if/when they do n o t trast

understand his w o r k (Phenomenology, 71). A n d h e writes i n a style that

is largely ironic, often sarcastic, sometimes stating that he will n o t do such-and-such, and then doing it even while denying that he will do it. For example, there is the opening o f the Preface itself, the despair o f e v e r y b e g i n n i n g s t u d e n t o f Hegel:

I t is customary t o preface a work with an explanation o f the a u thor’s aim, why he w r o t e the book, and the relationship i n which he believes i t t o s t a n d t o o t h e r e a r l i e r o r contemporary treatises o n t h e

same subject. I n the case o f a philosophical w o r k , however, such a n

explanation seems n o t only superfluous but, i n view o f the n a t u r e o f the subject-matter, even inappropriate and misleading. For what ever might appropriately be said about philosophy i n a preface—say a historical statement of the main drift and the point o f view, the general content and results, a string o f random assertions and assur-

ances about truth—none o f this can be accepted as the way in which t o expound philosophical truth. (1/3/67/6)3

But in this very paragraph, the author states his purpose, t o “expound philosophical Truth (die philosophische Wahrheit)” And as every reader o f the commentaries is well aware, the r e s t o f the Preface is riddled with i r o n i c and sometimes nasty comments about the “cir-

cumstances” and “other t r e a t m e n t s o f the same topic,” especially Schelling and

his o t h e r

contemporaries.

I t 1s in the Preface, m u c h more than i n the text itself, that Hegel’s

central indecision becomes m o s t apparent—his awkward and sometimes confused mixture of absolute idealism and historicism. I t is here that he tries t o make u p for his m o s t “unscientific” performance in the text, n o t by apologizing b u t by belligerently reasserting its scientific qualities. T h i s makes for a n awkward stance and some uncomfortable reading, as H e g e l pontificates as h e never does in the text

about the importance o f a philosophical system and the woeful inad2. All references

to

the Preface o f the PG will be given i n quadrupicate: the first

reference is t o the Miller translation, o n which the quotations are based. T h e numbers are paragraph numbers, n o t page numbers. T h e second reference is to the German edition o f the PG: for the Preface only, I have used Johann Schultz's edition o f 1832 ( B e r l i n : D u n c k e r u n d H u m b o l d t ) , vol. 2 o f Werke. T h e t h i r d reference is to t h e o l d Baillie translation (New Y o r k : H a r p e r and Row, 1966), a n d t h e f o u r t h is to Walter Kaufmann’s very excellent translation, p r i n t e d separately as Hegel: Texts and Commentary

(New York: Doubleday, 1966). See also Richard Schacht’s commentary i n Philosophical Studies vol. 2 3 , (1972), 1-31.

240

Setting the Stage

equacles o f those philosophers who have failed o r who have n o t even tried t o c o n s t r u c t one. Here t o o Hegel tries t o cover his tracks, emphasizing the necessity o f the r o u t e h e has provided for us, reiterating

in a mixture o f metaphors our systematic ascension t o the absolute standpoint o f philosophy and Geist. H e thus denies in effect the m o s t significant single “result” o f t h e Phenomenology—not t h e Absolute n o r even the self-realization o f Spirit b u t the recognition o f the richness

o f alternative “forms o f consciousness,” alternative conceptual frameworks and life styles, which may n o t in the end lend themselves t o “absolute” resolution. The general theme of the Preface is: philosophy is the presentation of philosophical or “absolute” truth; but philosophical truth, as opposed t o “casual assertions and assurances,” must be “systematic” and “developmental” i n form. And, as Science, i t m u s t be conceptually articulate. H e g e l does tell us, contrary t o his initial announcement, t h e r e l a t i o n s h i p o f h i s o w n t h e o r y o f Truth t o others o f his t i m e a n d before him: his is fully adequate and theirs are n o t . H e has brought philosophy t o its fruition and its time-honored and time-worn problems t o their resolution. The philosophers o f the past, while n o t being misguided or “wrong,” have tended t o be “one-sided” i n their theo-

ries. Hegel's contemporaries, however, are worse than “one-sided.”

With all the resources o f the history o f philosophy and the collective experiences of enlightened mankind a t their disposal, they have produced philosophies which are mere “personal opinions,” “abstract

formulas,” or merely “enthusiastic” appeals t o common sense or religious feeling. But Hegel's complaints against his colleagues and his sympathetic criticism of his predecessors are n o t merely comparisons of his own theory with alternative theories. These are essential t o his theory itself. To say that philosophy m u s t be “systematic” is t o say, in part, that i t m u s t a c c o u n t for the one-sided truth o f every other philosophy. A n d t o say that philosophy is “developmental” is t o say, in part, that a philosophical theory is never a n isolated hypothesis b u t

always a response t o and a development o f other philosophical positions. Philosophical truth can only be understood within the c o n t e x t of philosophy and its history. Most philosophers o f all persuasions would o r could be forced t o agree that philosophical problems are always inherited problems, and that philosophical theories a r e t o be judged, essentially, according t o the degree t o which they resolve or satisty problems and demands which alternative theories have left unresolved and unsatisfied. This is n o t

to

say that philosophy is a “closed system” o f problems and

solutions which are o f interest only

to

those with philosophical train-

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

241

ing. To the contrary, i t is t o insist that every philosophical theory, whether explicitly o r not, finds its presuppositions and intentions i n

other philosophical concerns and theories, and that every problem, traced back toward its r o o t s , will find its origins and ambitions in the gut-level problems o f human existence, which is, like philosophy, essentially conceptual, and therefore philosophical, even i f naively and implicitly. This 1s why a technical philosophical problem, wrenched from its philosophical and human context, often appears dry and “irrelevant,” like an inedible and already dried-out fruit that has been plucked from its t r e e . I t is also why, i n the Preface, Hegel rightly insists that a philosophical theory o f Truth c a n n o t be baldly presented, a “naked result,” and be expected t o have any significance. A philosophical theory is intelligible only within the over-all philosophical and experiential context within which certain problems have arisen, been attacked, and partially solved but remain, perhaps raising new a n d more difficult problems, have become reformulated a n d twisted

by new conceptual advances, partially “cancelled,” partially t r a n scended (“aufgehoben”), and have finally emerged a t that stage of “dev e l o p m e n t ” i n w h i c h t h e c u r r e n t t h e o r y c o n s t i t u t e s a n attempt t o r e -

solve them. Thus, from an “absolute idealist” standpoint, Hegel's Phenomenology 1s a philosophical theory of Truth which is presented i n less than fifteen pages, the “absolute knowing” of the Phenomenology ( 7 7 9 - 9 2 ) . I t is the development o f the context w i t h i n which that

theory can be seen t o be an adequate resolution o f various problems that takes u p the other several hundred pages. But that is why philosophical truth c a n n o t be stated i n a preface. “The Truth is n o t only the result”: “The truth is the whole, i n its process o f development.” T h e Truth (die Wahrheit) is i n the (alleged) unity o f the book—not i n

its conclusion o r i n any o f its parts (Preface included). B u t then again, from the historicist p o i n t o f view, there is n o Truth, i n this sense, a t all, only the truths (die Wahre) o f the various parts. B u t the Truth is,

i n any case, the goal o f philosophy—the entire history of human thought, in fact, and it is to be understood only in t e r m s o f that history. I t is i n the Preface that we are first struck b y the bewildering mixt u r e o f metaphors that supposedly define the remainder o f the book. Foremost among them, however, 1s the Bildung metaphor, t o which

we are i n t r o d u c e d at t h e very b e g i n n i n g o f t h e text, i n a particularly

striking passage; The b u d disappears i n the bursting-forth o f the blossom, and one might say t h a t the former is refuted by the latter; similarly, when the f r u i t appears, t h e b l o s s o m 1s s h o w n u p i n i t s t u r n as a false manifestation of

the plant,

and the fruit now emerges as

the

truth of

i t in-

242

Setting the Stage

stead. These forms are not just distinguished from one another, they also supplant one another as mutually incompatible. Yet a t the same time their fluid n a t u r e makes them m o m e n t s o f a n organic unity i n which they n o t only do n o t conflict, but in which each is as necessary as the o t h e r ; a n d t h i s m u t u a l necessity a l o n e constitutes t h e life o f

the whole. (Phenomenology, 2)

The odd mixture of botany and logic is only half tongue-in-cheek; the other half is extremely serious. For i t 1s Hegel's whole point that knowledge, experience, consciousness develop as organic wholes, through various stages o r “moments” i n a process that, at any given

point, might well seem as i f i t were complete i n itself. The botanical metaphor also gives us a clue to what Hegel means b y “contradiction,” not

logical contradiction but simply “difference”; a bud

cannot

be a

blossom o r a fruit at the same time, b u t yet it is all three.

Elsewhere i n the Preface, the Bildung metaphor appears i n the image o f an embryo, a newborn child, several more t r e e images, the education o f the individual, a n d the education o f mankind. B u t it 1s

interrupted a t irregular intervals with the circle metaphor and a steady insistence that philosophy can only be realized as Science. I t is in the soil o f Science that our philosophical oak will grow, and Hegel, o f course, will be o u r gardener. As we read through this remarkably

rambling and ill-organized document, however, what strikes us most o f all is 1ts detensiveness. “Philosophy m u s t be Scientific,” Hegel dec l a r e s , a n d it is t h e p o i n t o f t h e Preface t o d e c l a r e t h a t i t is so. T o

which Walter Kaufmann rightly replies, “ I n the preface he pleaded belatedly that philosophy m u s t become scientific—an unlikely epithet for the Phenomenology.” The purpose o f the Phenomenology is complex and ambitious; the point o f the Preface is r u d e a n d self-serving. I t announces a serious

effort

to

come

to

grips with the so-called problem of truth in philos-

ophy, b u t i t t o o often tends t o be nasty, defensive, arrogant, and, u l -

timately, misleading. The Preface does n o t tell u s what we will find i n the text so m u c h as it tells us what we ought to find there. I t includes concise aphorisms, but, as K a u f m a n n has pointed o u t , ’ they are often

embedded i n obscure and near-impossible

sentences

and always em-

bellished t o make them l o o k “scientific.” Indeed, the point o f the Pretace, taken d o w n t o essentials, can be easily stated: t o insist that good

philosophy is scientific, that this particular book us scientific, that i t succeeds, as o t h e r s d o n o t , i n d e m o n s t r a t i n g t h a t “ S p i r i t ” i s e v e r y -

thing and integrates within i t the realms o f n a t u r e and human will. B u t the Preface itself, Hegel admits, does n o t actually d o this. Hegel 3 . K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 3 6 4 .

Hegel’s O w n View o f the Phenomenology

243

instead uses the Preface t o chastise his public, his colleagues, his com-

petitors, and state i n his insufferably dense prose the epic importance o f his own first book and the supposedly even greater importance o f

his n e x t one (still t e n years away). I n what follows, I will try t o pick o u t the key arguments and claims o f the Preface, b y way o f a commentary that will concentrate m o s t o f

all on the opening paragraphs. [Or, you might consider simply moving straight on

to

the analysis

o f the text itself (chapters 6 - 1 1 ) a n d take Hegel at his w o r d , that “ t h e

truth is n o t

to

be found i n a pretface.’]

B u t first, here is Hegel's o w n table o f contents (for the Preface only):

The element o f the True is the Notion and its

true

shape is scientific

system.

The s t a t e o f spiritual culture a t t h e present time. The principle o f Science is n o t the completion o f Science: objections t o formalism,

The Absolute is Subject: the meaning o f this. The element o f knowledge. The elevation o f consciousness into that element is the Phenomenology o f Spint. The transformation o f picture-thoughts and familiar ideas into thoughts; a n d t h e s e i n t o Notions.

T o what e x t e n t is the Phenomenology o f Spirit negative, or how is the false contained in it? Historical a n d mathematical t r u t h . T h e nature o f philosophical t r u t h

and its method: objections t o schematizing formalism. Requirement for the study o f philosophy. The negative a t t i t u d e o f r a t i o c i n a t i v e thinking, i t s positive and 1ts subject.

attitude,

Philosophizing by the l i g h t o f nature: sound common sense; the i n -

spiration o f genius. Conclusion: the relation o f the author

to

his public.

— (Phenomenology, xxxii1)

The Preface . . . roars l i k e a romantic symphony. — G u s t a v Emil Muller

Hegel begins (1/3/67/6) by telling us that philosophical Truth is n o t

to

be f o u n d i n a Preface, that a mere statement o f a i m 1s all b u t worthless since, as K a n t h a d also argued, philosophy is n o t a b o d y o f knowledge o r a s e t o f conclusions b u t a n activity, which o n e l e a r n s only by doing.

A preface, accordingly, is

not a

symphony nor even an o v e r t u r e , b u t

244

Setting the Stage

the program one is handed a t the door before the performance, full o f advertisements and some brief indication of what is t o come. But the program is n o t the performance, and the statement that one would like t o arrive a t a certain conclusion is n o t philosophy. Thus Hegel ends his Preface, as he begins it, with a barbed t a u n t a t those who “ r e a d r e v i e w s o f p h i l o s o p h i c a l w o r k s , e v e n pretaces a n d first p a r a -

graphs” but n o t the work itself. (70/56/128/106) With t h a t d a m p e r o n o u r e n t h u s i a s m , w e c a n say t h a t t h e first par-

agraph of the Preface does, obliquely, tell us the goal o f the book— “philosophical Truth,” and its method t o o , which is “Science” (Wissenschaft). This t o o is defined for us, obliquely; it 1s n o t a mere “aggregate

of information,” including the history o f philosophy and the knowiedge of a variety o f philosophical systems.* Philosophy, Hegel tells us, “moves essentially i n the element o f universality”—that is, 1t deals in general principles. But it requires thorough knowledge o f “particulars” t o o . I n other words, one m u s t have a working knowledge o f the details of the history o f philosophy in order t o do philosophy, but the actual doing is the formulation of those general principles, which acc o u n t s for that history as a unified and ongoing activity. Here Hegel introduces the first o f his many organic metaphors: i n anatomy, we can be familiar w i t h the parts, b u t we d o not really understand t h e m unless we k n o w h o w they function i n the l i v i n g organism; so too, we

can be familiar with the history o f philosophy and the variety o f philosophical viewpoints, b u t we d o n o t understand philosophy until we u n d e r s t a n d h o w these f u n c t i o n together, as parts o f a l i v i n g enter-

prise. The second paragraph also introduces an organic metaphor—in this case, the more central botanical imagery o f the metamorphosis o f a flower b u d i n t o a blossom into a fruit (see p. 241). This Bildung

metaphor is then applied

to

the history o f philosophy, which is t o be

viewed n o t as a conflict b u t rather as a development o f views, i n w h i c h e a c h i s as necessary as t h e o t h e r ; a n d t h i s mutual necessity

alone constitutes the life of the whole. But he who rejects a philosophical s y s t e m [i1.e. t h e n e w p h i l o s o p h e r ] d o e s n o t u s u a l l y compre-

what h e i s d o i n g i n t h i s w a y ; a n d h e w h o g r a s p s t h e c o n t r a d i c tion between them [i.e. the historian o f philosophy] does not, as a

hend

general r u l e , know h o w to free i t from its one-sidedness, o r maintain

it in its freedom by recognizing the reciprocally necessary moments t h a t take s h a p e as a conflict a n d s e e m i n g incompatibility. ( 2 / 4 / 6 8 / 8 )

The mixture o f epistemological and biological metaphors is allimportant for Hegel. The idea o f the “growth” of truth, its gradual 4 . C f . Hegel's criticism o f R e i n h o l d ’ s “ h i s t o r i c i s m ™ i n h i s Differenz-essay o f 1 8 0 1 .

See Chapter 3.

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

245

realization through a series of transformations (namely, the whole history of human thought), is the whole point behind the odd s t r u c ture (or lack o f it) o f the Phenomenology. B u t more specifically, his point here is that truth a n d falsity, where philosophical viewpoints are concerned, are n o t “opposites”; a philosophical doctrine is n o t literally “false,” since it is n o t a n attempt to describe a state o f affairs to which

it does or does n o t accurately correspond. I t is rather a representation of the whole o f reality, and its inadequacy is more likely t o be that of being “one-sided,” incomplete, n o t well thought-out. For example, i f one looks back a t the m o v e m e n t in British Empiricism, from Locke to Berkeley to Hume, for instance, one sees quite clearly that this 1s not

a

matter

o f one philosopher refuting another and replacing the

refuted philosophy with his own; the three rather represent a se-

quential working o u t o f the details and implications (not all o f them favorable) of the empiricist program of Locke, which in t u r n was a reaction t o the dominant philosophy o f “innate ideas” that ruled a t the time, and all o f these represent a shared attempt t o understand the origins of human understanding. So t o o the sequence o f KantFichte-Schelling-Hegel should be seen—as we have come t o see i t as a matter o f course—as a working o u t o f the transcendental idealist program initiated i n Kant (which i n t u r n was a development from Leibniz-Berkeley-Hume) as a shared attempt to formulate a unified

view of the whole of human experience. And if one takes it for granted (as Hegel and his friends did) that this program is the right program ( i n fact, absolutely right) then this image in effect puts one above

criticism; Hegel is n o t just stating his philosophy. He 1s rather bringing t o fruition the whole philosophical tradition o f the West. Later in the Preface (39/30/98{/58f) Hegel elaborates this point about t r u t h a n d falsity: 39. “True” and “false” belong among those determinate notions which are held t o be i n e r t and wholly separate essences, one here and o n e there, each standing fixed a n d isolated from the other, w i t h which i t

has nothing i n common. Against this view i t m u s t be maintained that t r u t h is n o t a minted coin that can be given and pocketed readymade.

I n other words, Hegel is distinguishing t w o different c o n t e x t s of talki n g a b o u t t r u t h ; o n e is t h e everyday context i n w h i c h we say that a

certain s t a t e m e n t is t r u e (e.g. “the c a t is o n the mat” is t r u e i f and only i f the c a t is o n the mat). The other c o n t e x t is the esoteric philosophical context i n w h i c h one evaluates various philosophical systems and develops a theory o f Truth. I n other words, what is i t that makes a philosophical statement—or a system o f s t a t e m e n t s — t r u e ? N o t cor-

respondence

to

“the facts” (since any number o f opposing philosoph-

246

Setting the Stage

ical viewpoints m i g h t be based o n precisely the same facts) and certainly n o t fidelity to o u r ordinary use o f the words “ t r u e ” and “false.”

Indeed, it is our special use o f these words i n philosophy that raises the question. (Thus Hegel sometimes distinguishes the t w o by calling them das Wahre and die Wahrheit respectively.) The m o s t profound example o f “one-sided” philosophical viewp o i n t s , a c c o r d i n g to Hegel, is t o b e found i n Kant’s antinomies. F o r

example, the first pair o f antinomies is,

— The world has a beginning i n space and time. — The w o r l d does n o t have a beginning i n space a n d time.“

Hegel would agree with Kant that each o f these theses can be defended b y a valid argument w i t h sound premises, b u t where K a n t

claims such antinomies prove the “illusory” n a t u r e o f pure reason by trying t o give us knowledge beyond the realm o f experience, Hegel holds that these are n o t actually contradictory theses b u t rather complementary. They are both m o m e n t s i n the more perspicacious

“speculative” view o f reality which he argues i n the Logic and within the realm o f experience. Neither is false; both are true, that is, partially true—perspectives on the Truth (die Wahrheit) from different viewpoints. Hegel here (3/5/69/10) repeats his demand that a mere statement

of aim is virtually worthless, and t o think that stating one’s conclusion is already t o s t a t e one’s philosophy (as i n “What's your philosophy?”) is nothing but “a device for evading the real issue, a way of creating an impression o f hard w o r k and serious commitment to the problem,

while actually sparing oneself both.” I n other words, philosophy is n o t h i n g b u t the d o i n g o f i t , and t h o u g h one must come to some con-

clusion, t o be sure, i t is the thinking, n o t that conclusion, that is philosophy’s “truth.»„ This point is made by means o f another organic metaphor, this one 2

[11

— 7

a r e t u r n t o the anatomical imagery o f paragraph one. Hegel says that “the a i m itself is a lifeless universal. . . a mere drive . . . a n d the naked

result is the corpse that has left the guiding tendency behind 1t” The 5. T h e same distinction can be f o u n d i n Heidegger's “ T h e Essence o f T r u t h ” essay, a n d i n P F . S t r a w s o n ’ s a t t a c k o n ]J.L. Austin i n t h e i r f a m o u s “ t r u t h ” s y m p o s i u m . T h e s t a m p e d c o i n i m a g e , W a l t e r K a u f m a n n p o i n t s out, is a n a l l u s i o n t o L e s s i n g ' s N a t h a n the

Wise: “ T r u t h , T r u t h ! H e wants i t readymade. . . as i f Truth were a c o i n ” (WK, p . 414).

The point becomes central t o the discussion o f Truth i n the Logic, years later, where once a g a i n Hegel makes a firm distinction b e t w e e n t r u t h a n d m e r e “ c o r r e c t n e s s ” (Richtigkeit). I n the latter, criteria for truth (“truth conditions”) are already taken for granted. I n the former, philosophical context, the criteria for t r u t h are precisely what is a n issue. 6. CPR, B. 454. 7. Hegel would include i n this list o f evasions the discipline (vanity?) o f comparing t h e w o r k o f o t h e r philosophers, as i n h i s o w n earlier essays. I n h i s o w n o p i n i o n , i t was

only with the PG that he began actually doing philosophy, as opposed a b o u t it.

to

just writing

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

247

urge t o completeness (“the Absolute”) means nothing except through the actual effort of trying t o develop a complete (“systematic”) philosophy, and the mere statement of completeness—e.g. “All 1s One,” o u t o f c o n t e x t of the various philosophical efforts that lead u p t o it—I1s a pointless u t t e r a n c e . (Thus our disdain for the thoughtless platitudes of pop philosophy, even when they are identical t o the conclusions of the m o s t profound thinkers o f the age.) The Bildung metaphor 1s presented as such in paragraph 4 (4/6/70/ 10), though unfortunately both the Miller and Baillie translations hide this from us: 4. Culture® and its laborious emergence from the immediacy of subs t a n t i a l life m u s t a l w a y s b e g i n b y g e t t i n g a c q u a i n t e d w i t h general p r i n c i p l e s a n d p o i n t s o f view, s o as a t first t o w o r k u p t o a general

well as l e a r n i n g t o support a n d refute the general conception with reasons; then t o apprehend the rich and

conception o f the real issue, as

concrete abundance [ o f life] b y differential classification; and finally t o give accurate instruction and pass serious judgement upon it. From its very beginning, culture m u s t leave room for the earnestness of life i n its c o n c r e t e richness; this leads the way to an experience o f the real issue. A n d even when the real issue has been penetrated t o its depths by serious speculative effort, this kind o f knowing and judging will still r e t a i n i t s appropriate place in ordinary c o n v e r s a t i o n .

Here the Bildung metaphor 1s explicitly educational, from “the immediacy o f substantial life” (der Unmittelbarkeit des substantiellen Lebens) to “ a general conception” o r “ t h o u g h t ” (Gedanke). T o “ w o r k oneself

u p ” from one

to

the other requires gaining knowledge o f universal

principles, in o t h e r words, d o i n g some philosophy. A n d this i n turn

requires what Miller translates as “serious speculative effort” (der Ernst

des Begriffs), but which should much more importantly be recognized as Hegel's first introduction o f the Concept (der Begriff), which 1s the philosophical side o f “Spirit” and the protagonist o f the book. Philosophy and philosophical truth, in a word, require “the Concept,” de8. The difference i n a l t e r n a t i v e t r a n s l a t i o n s o f this word is i n s t r u c t i v e : Baillie a n d Miller translate “Bildung” as culture, which is surely misleading; Kaufmann translates i t as education, w h e r e w e s h o u l d t r a n s l a t e i t , m o r e i n l i n e w i t h t h e cultivation metaphor,

as development. O n such differences the tone o f the work depends. Similarly, “der Unmit-

telbarkeit des substantiellen Lebens” is translated by Baillie “the immediacy o f naive psychical life,” b y K a u f m a n n as “ t h e immediacy o f t h e substance o f life.” Hegel's m e a n i n g is,

I believe, everyday life i n which we are caught u p i n daily tasks and material, as opposed t o spiritual, concerns. Baillie’s notion of “psychical” is uncalled for and introduces a dangerous empiricist bent which Hegel does n o t intend. Kaufmann’ “the substance o f life” is risky because, given that Hegel will soon say that the substance is spirit, the c o n t r a s t between the everyday material and the philosophically spiritual life is lost. I t 1s a l s o i m p o r t a n t t o point o u t t h a t “ G e d a n k e ” above, t r a n s l a t e d by Kaufmann as idea a n d b y Baillie as thought, m i g h t b e t r a n s l a t e d e i t h e r way, b u t w i t h considerable differconceptual but not necessarily a c t u a l i z e d o r explicit: T h e Idea, o n t h e o t h e r hand, is t h e v e r y e n d o f t h e Logic, t h o u g h t f u l l y s p i r i t u a l a n d explicit t o i t s e l f . I n t h e p r e s e n t c o n t e x t , e i t h e r will fit, b u t t h e differ-

ences. I n t h e Logic, thoughts a r e t h e vehicle throughout,

ence between t h e m is enormous.

248

Setting the Stage

mand articulation and “reasons” (Grunden). This may seem obvious to us, b u t i t h a d t o b e argued i n Hegel’s day, particularly against the

Romantics (who will be much abused i n passages t o come) who insisted instead t h a t “the Absolute” would n o t be known through articulation but only “felt” through emotion and intuition. I n this same paragraph Hegel insists o n the u n i t y o f “the earnest-

ness o f life i n its c o n c r e t e richness” and “education” or philosophical effort. Thus philosophy m u s t never be confined simply t o the study (as it was for David H u m e , who could argue against the possibility o f

knowing the existence o f the external world and then sit down roast

to

a

beet dinner), n o r should philosophy ever be taken as a substitute

for life. (Thus Hegel later said o f Schelling that he did philosophy instead o f living.)

“The t r u e shape i n which truth exists can only be the scientific syso f 1t” (5/6/71/12). This is one o f those few brief statements that

tem

could be used to summarize the entire Preface. This is, indeed, the

main point of the Preface, that philosophy requires a scientific system and Hegel has provided us with such a system. We have already discussed these concepts “system” and “Science” in some detail (chapter 4b, “Science, System and Dialectic”), and may repeat here only the demand that (1) a system m u s t show the interconnection o f various

forms and claims, in particular, the integration o f the twin realms o f “nature” and “freedom” (a la Kant) and the developmental relation-

ships governing the whole history o f philosophy and conceptual thought. (2) A scientific system m u s t be articulate, spelled o u t and discursive, argumentative, a “demonstration” o f its conclusions and not just a claim that one “knows” ( t h r o u g h feeling o r special intuition)

that they are

true.

(3) “Science” (Wissenschaft) does n o t mean what we

mean by i t , “ n a t u r a l science” (physics, chemistry, biology, psychology, etc.) b u t rather, as i n Aristotle, a system o f necessary propositions, n o t

empirical findings. Here t o o Hegel announces, “what I have set myself t o do,” namely, “to help bring philosophy closer t o the form o f Science.” H e puns o n the literal Greek meaning of “philosophy” —“philein sophia” —"the love of wisdom” and says that, as Science, “it can lay aside the tite ‘love o f knowing’ and be actual knowing.” But this un-Socratic aim is precisely what the historicist Hegel would deny t o the Phenomenology itself; its conclusion, “the Absolute” or “absolute knowing” is that philosophy will always be a n effort, a n activity, rather than a result already obtained.

Here

too

Hegel introduces the key

to

his Bildung metaphor, the

idea o f a n “ i n n e r necessity,” “ t h a t k n o w i n g should b e scientific,” that is, articulate a n d a i m at total comprehension. I n his i n i t a l discussion

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

249

o f scientific explanation i n chapter 3, for example, he considers a t length the urge o f scientists t o unity all phenomena and theories und e r a single principle, similar to Newton's laws o f motion and theory

o f gravitation or i n fulfillment o f Einsteins search for a “unified field theory” H e claims that the urge t o such total comprehension lies in the very n a t u r e o f consciousness itself, and so t o o i n philosophy, the only ultimately satistying viewpoint will be one which is “systematic,” all comprehending, and i n effect, therefore, the end o f philosophy. T h e i d e a o f i n n e r necessity is c o n t r a s t e d w i t h e x t e r n a l necessity,

“accidental matters of person and motivation.” I n philosophy, this would be the desire t o be published, o r please a prince, o r render u p the m o s t persuasive system to one’s colleagues. B u t , H e g e l assures us, in-

ternal and external necessities are ulumately the same—a strong claim which appears again many years later in his lectures on the philosophy of history. (Thus, Napoleons personal ambitions matched precisely with the “cunning o f reason” which used him for its own intentions.) Their identity is t o be found “ i n the shape i n which time sets forth the sequential existence o f its moments”—in other words, i n history, and i n particular, i n the history o f philosophy. Hegel adds that “to demonstrate the necessity o f the aim” (for total comprehension through philosophy) would be “at the same time the accomplishm e n t of it.” I n other words, t o recognize that the whole o f philosophy has always aimed at a n all-encompassing system is to realize that allencompassing system. T h e Truth is the recognition that we all seek

the one universal Truth.

THE

(EMBATTLED) S P I R I T

OF THE TIMES

We have completed only the first five paragraphs, but the over-all p o i n t o f the Preface is already before us; the emphasis o n system a n d

Science, the organic Bildung metaphors and the insistence on actually doing philosophy instead of just talking about it or summarizing its results, o n going t h r o u g h the whole history o f conceptual thought (or the Concept) i n order t o b r i n g t o fruition its underlying aims and inner

principles. Much o f what follows is repetition. that t h e t r u e s h a p e o f t r u t h i s saentific—or, what is t h e s a m e t h i n g , t o m a i n t a i n t h a t t r u t h has o n l y t h e C o n c e p t [Begriff] as

T o lay d o w n

the element o f its existence—seems, I know, to contradict a view which is in o u r time as prevalent as it is pretentious. H e r e b e g i n s H e g e l ' s p r o l o n g e d attack o n Romanticism a n d i n t u i t i o n -

i s m . H e contrasts h i s o w n philosophy, w h i c h r e c o g m z e s “ t h e C o n c e p t ”

250

Setting the Stage

as the key t o the realization o f the Absolute, with those who insist that “the Absolute is n o t supposed t o be comprehended (begriffen) but i t is t o be felt and intuited (gefuhlt und angeschaut)” through feeling and intuition (Gefuhl und Anschauung).” His opponents would include Jacobi, later Schleiermacher and others who explicitly insisted that the Absolute could n o t be known (following Kant who called i t a “regul a t i v e i d e a ” ) b u t o n l y i n t u i t e d a n d felt ( w h i c h K a n t d i d n o t believe).

B u t i t w o u l d also include Schelling, for w h o m “intellectual intuition”

remained the ulumate c o u r t of appeal. I n this context, i t is instructive t o look a t Schelling’s first letter t o Hegel, after reading the Preface: I confess that so far I do n o t comprehend the sense i n which you oppose the Concept t o intuition. Surely you could n o t mean anything else by i t than what you and I used t o call the Idea, whose n a t u r e it is t o have one side from which i t 1s Concept and one from which i t 1s intuition?

Hegel had written Schelling that he was surely n o t attacking him, but the evidence t o the contrary is formidable. Hegel's unmistakable reference t o Schelling’s system as “a boring show o f diversity,” his remark that “ T h e I d e a . . . remains in its primitive condition, i f its de-

velopment involves nothing more than repetition of the same formula” and his sarcastic reference t o “monochromatic formalism” must have given Schelling ample reason t o be offended. And finally, the ultimate insult; Hegel refers t o the ultimate principle o f both Fichte’s and Schelling’s philosophies, “the A = A " o r “all is one,” and calls i t “an abyss o f vacuity,” as i f “to palm off the Absolute as the night in which, as the saying goes, all cows are black.” I n the midst o f this largely unwarranted sarcasm a n d i n any case

probably strained sense of opposition, Hegel gives us, “besides,” what is probably the best single summary of the “Spirit” of the Phenomenology, which we have quoted before (11/10/75/20): 11. Besides, i t is n o t difhicult to see that ours is a birth-time a n d a period o f transition t o a new era. Spirit has broken with t h e world it

has hitherto inhabited and imagined, and is o f a mind

to

submerge

i t i n the past, a n d i n t h e l a b o u r o f its o w n t r a n s f o r m a t i o n .

Spirit

is

indeed never a t r e s t but always engaged in moving forward. But just as the first breath drawn by a child after its long, quiet nourishment b r e a k s t h e g r a d u a l n e s s o f m e r e l y quantitative

growth—there is a

qualitative l e a p , a n d t h e c h i l d i s b o r n — s o l i k e w i s e t h e Spirit i n i t s

formation m a t u r e s slowly and quietly into its new shape, dissolving 9. From Munich, Nov. 2, 1807. Again, 1 have i n every instance translated “Begriff” as “Concept,” r e p l a c i n g Miller's “ N o t i o n ” wherever i t appears i n t h e P G .

10. The phrase “ A = A " comes immediately from the German Idealists, but ultifrom Leibniz, who u s e d it (less obscurely) t o refer t o t h e identity of all t r u e propositions i n God’s knowledge o f the world. The “night” image may have been taken from Parmenides. mately i t i s t a k e n

251

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

is only hinted a t by isolated symptoms. The frivolity and boredom which

b i t b y bit t h e s t r u c t u r e o f i t s p r e v i o u s w o r l d , w h o s e t o t t e r i n g s t a t e

unsettle the established order, the vague foreboding o f something

unknown, these are the heralds of approaching change. The gradu a l c r u m b l i n g t h a t left u n a l t e r e d t h e face o f t h e whole i s c u t s h o r t

by a

sunburst which,

i n o n e f l a s h , illuminates

the features

o f the

new

world.

T h e sunburst, o f course, 1s the new w o r l d o f the French Revolution and Enlightenment liberalism, n o w c o m i n g h o m e to Germany. B u t i t

is also the sun o f Truth in Plato, a new world of thought, a new way of thinking, no longer in t e r m s of provincial beliefs and “positive” (authoritarian) religions. I t is a w o r l d o f thought based o n reason a n d criticism, a n d i n

this l i g h t , w e m i g h t n o t e Hegel's o l d l e t t e r to Schel-

l i n g , “ F r o m t h e Kantian system a n d its completion I expect a revolu-

tion in Germany . !'! Here is Kant’s system about t o be completed, and here, along with Napoleon, is the philosophical revolution in ..”

Germany.

I t is i n the midst of sarcasm and the strained opposition between “ t h e Concept” a n d intuition that Hegel also introduces (7/7/72/12) his

all-important concept o f Geist, Spirit. “Spirit,” Hegel tells us, “has now got beyond the substantial life it formerly led in the element o f thought,

that 1s beyond the immediacy o f faith, beyond the satisfaction and security o f t h e c e r t a i n t y t h a t consciousness t h e n had, of i t s reconciliation with the essential being, and of that being’s presence both within and without.” Hegel is here talking about the traditional notion of the “spiritual” as a religious conception, of “Spirit” as the Holy Spirit, which is at one a n d the same time “ w i t h i n and w i t h o u t ” us. B u t this tradi-

tional security, based on unquestioning (“immediate”) faith, is finished. Religious faith is passé since the Enlightenment, and i n desperation people n o w t u r n “away from the empty husks” o f religion

(which Hegel himself had criticized so virulently in his early essays) and t u r n t o philosophy, n o t for “knowledge” but “for the recovery. . . o f that lost sense o f solid and substantial being.” And so the Romantics, who are also concerned with a r e t u r n t o “the good old days” and “that old fashioned religion,” provide them with promises o f “the ‘beautiful, the ‘holy, the ‘eternal; ‘religion, and ‘love’” as “the bait required to arouse the desire to bite.” B u t this is, Hegel insists, mere “insubstantial reflection o f itself i n t o i t s e l f ” — i n other words, a n ulti-

mately vacuous sense o f self, which provides “edification rather than insight”? and “not the Concept but ecstasy, n o t the cold march o f necessity . . . but the ferment o f enthusiasm.” 11. F r o m B e r n , April 16, 1795. 1 2 . C f . K i e r k e g a a r d ' s “ E d i f y i n g D i s c o u r s e s , ” w h i c h w e r e a n intentional

this Hegelian caveat.

s l a p at j u s t

252

Setting the Stage

W h a t Hegel wants t o d o , o n t h e o t h e r hand, is n o t to “ r e t u r n t o t h e

old conception o f Spirit” (like the Romantics Novalis and Schlegel, later Schelling, all o f w h o m converted to Catholicism as a gesture o f

their fundamentalism) but

to

enrich it, by enclosing within its domain

t h e w h o l e o f h u m a n e x p e r i e n c e . I n d e e d , t h e “impoverishment

of

Spirit” he laments in paragraph eight is n o t due t o the loss but t o the ethereal vacuity o f a religion which he feels has never given sufficient a t t e n t i o n t o t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f fellow-feeling a n d community, t o c o n -

understanding instead of incomprehensible doctrines. (These were all criticisms Hegel had made o f Christianity in his early essays o f the 1790s.) Indeed, his way o f introducing “Spirit” is already very modern; he writes: “the stage which self-conscious Spirit (selbstbecrete

wusste Geist) has presently reached” as ı f taking i t for g r a n t e d at the outset

that “Spirit” is all o f us rather than some divinity “above” o r

some “ i n n e r intangible soul” within. This is a radically new arrival i n

Western thinking. Indeed, the very idea of a “spirit o f the times,” familiar as that may seem t o us, was u n k n o w n before Hegel’s time. ( J o h n S t u a r t Mill, for e x a m p l e , comments o n its novelty h a l t a cen-

tury later.) What Hegel is helping t o do here, is t o introduce the idea o f World Spirit (Weltgeist, following Schelling a n d Hölderlin) as a n all-

embracing, secular, historical, concept-using entity, realizing itself through time and human events, and, especially, through the thinking of philosophers. I t 1s Aristotle’s metaphysics “spiritualized” for the German, Christian, idealist philosophers o f the 19th century. I n paragraph 10, Hegel tells us that “ t h e p o w e r o f Spirit is o n l y as

great as 1ts expression, its depth only as deep as i t dares t o spread o u t a n d lose i t s e l f i n i t s exposition.” T h u s t h i s world-human-Spirit

is es-

sentially conceptual, articulate, and i t is only through its expression o f itself.!®> T h u s we are l e d t o a series o f Bildung metaphors t h r o u g h out

the Preface, all o f which play with the apparent paradox that

Spirit is n o t Spirit until i t recognizes itself as such. B u t the idea is simple enough: history, for example, is n o t a s e q u e n c e of e v e n t s b u t an interpretation o f events, so there is no history until there 1s an

historian, a n interpreter. B u t “ t h e facts” are there, presumably, all

along. Similarly, what we call “the human mind” is n o t just a sequence o f c o l l e c t i v e e x p e r i e n c e s , b u t a hypostatization, a postulation—per-

haps even an invention—ot philosophers and psychologists, in order t o distinguish experience from something else (e.g. the physical world), in order t o distinguish human experience from the experience of God, 13. T h u s Charles T a y l o r takes w h a t h e calls “expressivism” ( t h e t e r m c o m e s f r o m

Isaiah B e r l i n ) t o be o n e o f the t w o d r i v i n g forces o f Hegel's philosophy; the other is t h e E n l i g h t e n m e n t d e m a n d for autonomy. See h i s Hegel, c h . 1.

253

Hegel’s O w n View o f the Phenomenology

for example, o r from unreflective worms and squirrels. T h u s 1t 1s

Kant who introduces the notion o f “intellectual intuition” through which i t is possible for God (not us) t o know the world i n itself or noumenon—a w o r d h e takes from the G r e e k nous. B u t i t is also K a n t w h o i n t r o d u c e s “ t h e t r a n s c e n d e n t a l e g o ” t o refer t o t h e conditional

experiences o f h u m a n consciousness, assuming, at the base o f his

theory, this this will be universal and necessarily the same for all o f us. B u t the transcendental ego too exists o n l y b y v i r t u e o f its o w n self-

recognition. The human m i n d exists, therefore, n o t just as the existence of collective human consciousness, but in its being recognized as such. I t is n o t a t h i n g i n t h e world b u t a n interpretation—or rather, i t is a t h i n g i n the w o r l d b y way o f a n interpretation. T h u s

Spirit

too

be realized as such, by us; i t becomes “actual” only in its recognition. (This is confused by Hegel's n o t infrequent and often ironic references t o “God” i n this paragraph and elsewhere.) I n paragraph 11, Hegel tells us that “Spirit has broken with” the must

o l d w o r l d and enters the new, “is . . . never a t rest b u t always engaged

i n moving forward.” Spirit “matures slowly and quietly into its new shape,” destroying a t the same time the old world. I n paragraph 12, the new world becomes the newborn child, and Spirit becomes the Concept (Begriff) .The metaphor switches again t o the more Kantian image o f a b u i l d i n g a n d its foundation, a n d then back to the botanical

metaphor o f the t r e e ; When we wish

to

see an oak with its massive trunk and spreading

branches and foliage, w e are n o t content to b e s h o w n a n a c o r n i n stead.

The point o f all of these images is

t o stress

the incompleteness of

Spirit and the fact that Science, “ t h e crown o f a world o f Spirit,” is n o t

completed a t its beginnings either. And the point o f the Phenomenology, o f course, is t o complete this process (or “approach” completion, i n Hegel's more modest formulation i n paragraph 5) by retracing the “various shapes and forms” i n their “newly acquired meaning.” What has happened t o Spirit, he is telling us, is that, for the first time, it has had a look a t itself, a “concept o f the whole.” And what remains is for a philosopher (guess who?) t o make this recognition explicit. I n paragraph 13 (1/11/76/22), Hegel attacks the Romantics and intuitionists from another angle, the lack o f general availability o f their 14. “The possibility of the ‘ I think’ m u s t accompany all o f my representations,” is the r e c u r r e n t theme o f both editions o f the first Critique. For Kant as for Descartes, c o n s c i o u s n e s s i s e s s e n t i a l l y s e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s . F o r Hegel, s e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s i s a n achievement f o r c o n s c i o u s n e s s , n o t p a r t o f i t s e s s e n t i a l s t r u c t u r e . (The p o t e n t i a l for selfconsciousness is p a r t o f t h e essential structure, however, thus allowing t w o quite difter. e n t r e t r o s p e c t i v e r e a d i n g s o f K a n t ’ s “possibility o f t h e ‘ I t h i n k”)

Setting the Stage

254

philosophy; “Science lacks universal intelligibility, and gives the appearance of being the esoteric possession o f a few individuals.” What Hegel is n o t saying, given his own style and sense of academic elitism, is that everyone ought t o be able t o read and easily comprehend this idea; what he is saying is that it m u s t a t least be written down and articulated 1n such a way that they could—if only with great effort and guidance—read and comprehend it. Thus Science is, a t least in principle, “open and equally accessible t o everyone.” Hegel here refers t o “ t h e p u r e I ” o f u n d e r s t a n d i n g , a n d i n s i s t s t h a t o n e c a n “ a t t a i n

to

rational knowledge by way o f ordinary understanding.” The dis-

tinction between reason (Vernunft) and understanding (Verstand) comes

from Kant, and the “pure I ” is his “transcendental ego.” A n enormous a m o u n t o f philosophical baggage is being slipped i n t o the discussion here, b u t for the m o m e n t , we can restrict o u r comments t o three simple points: (1) that there must be a bridge between

ordinary concepts and principles and the “higher” knowledge that reason and philosophy aim to give us; and (2) that the “ p u r e I ” refers t o “any rational consciousness whatever” (Kant’s phrase) and thus un-

dermines the claim o f some philosophers

to

have special abilities

to

“see” (intuit) the Truth. (3) T h e distinction between reason and u n -

derstanding Is this: for Kant, the understanding applies concepts t o sense t o synthesize the objects o f o u r experience. Reason is the ma-

nipulation o f concepts independently o f experience, and is therefore called “pure.” Furthermore, Kant claims that the concepts o f the understanding (that is, its basic or a priori “categories”) are “fixed” and “rigid”; they do n o t vary and they do n o t change. For Hegel, however, the first part o f this distinction seems absurd; all applications o f concepts, i n reason as well as i n understanding (even i n logic, h e will

add), presuppose applicability in experience; the difference between the t w o “faculties” o f the human m i n d is that reason, u n l i k e the fixed

and rigid categories of the understanding, is “fluid”; its concepts change with the enlarging c o n t e x t . Understanding can deal only with everyday cognition, with what 1s “familiar” (bekannte). Reason is always looking for the bigger picture, ultimately the single all-encompassing vision. Reason 1s reflective and does n o t just apply concepts according to

a priori schemata b u t examines its concepts as well, viewing them

in a larger

context

and often changing them in the process. I t is this

examination o f concepts, as well as the articulation o f them, and the attempt t o systematize their e m p l o y m e n t i n a n all-encompassing pict u r e that distinguish “Science” (Wissenschaft) trom the “ unscientific consciousness” (unwissenschaftlichen bewusstsehens). One o f Hegel's main concerns in the Logic (not in the Phenomenol-

Hegel's O w n View o f the Phenomenology

255

ogy) is what Kant had called “the deduction o f the categories.” Aristotle had collected together a list of basic concepts or categories, but Kant complained that “ h e merely picked them u p as they came his way.” 15 Kant d i d attempt a systematization o f these categories accord-

ing

to

the “table o f judgments” which the logicians o f his day had

provided, b u t Reinhold, a n d t h e n Fichte, and n o w Hegel, all com-

plained that Kant t o o had failed t o demonstrate this list of concepts t o be complete and necessary. They each attempted t o carry o u t such a systematization and demonstration. What concerns Hegel i n the

Phenomenology is a related enterprise—to see what different concepts o r “forms o f c o n s c i o u s n e s—give s” rise to each other. B u t this is not, h e insists, a n activity o f “understanding”: to the contrary, i t is a demonstration o f the “fluidity” o f reason and the way concepts are deter-

mined and transformed o f their own accord through the philosophical examination of them. T h e reference t o “two sides” o f a contemporary conflict (14/121/ 771/241), i n which the “sides” are b o t h abused b u t neither 1s named, raises a controversy about w h o m i t is Hegel has in m i n d . O n e side 1s

reduced

to

silence by “the noisy bluster of the other,” also because o f

its “weariness and indifference”; the other “boasts o f a wealth o f ma-

terial and its intelligibility.” Schelling was properly offended, for he and his disciples seemed t o fit into the second “side.” The first, presumably, w o u l d be the Romantics a n d intuitionist followers o f Kant.

The e x a c t reference here is a matter of philosophical curiosity. What is revealing is the originality Hegel is claiming for his own work i n “Science,” contrary t o his first disclaimer in the Preface, in comparis o n w i t h h i s contemporaries.

SUBSTANCE AND SUBJECT

I n my view, which can be justified only by the exposition o f the system itself, everything t u r n s o n grasping and expressing the t r u e

das Wahre n o t

o n l y as Substance, b u t equally as Subject. ( 1 7 / 1 4 / 8 0 / 2 8 )

This is perhaps the best-known single sentence in the Preface, and i t is as close as we come in Hegel t o a full-blown metaphysical position. What h e has i n m i n d , o f course, is the whole history o f physical real-

ism (the world as physical “substance”) and alternatively idealism (the world as ideas). Hegel, often identified as the ultimate idealist, says quite plainly t h a t the world is both. The word “substance” here is 15. K a n t , CPR, A 8 1 , B 107.

256

Setting the Stage

misused; Descartes did

not

oppose substance t o subject but insisted

that the thinking subject was a substance (mental substance). Spinoza

argued that there could be but one substance, but he also said that “thought” (and other mental activities) was one “attribute” o f this one

substance. Thus when Hegel clearly refers

to

Spinoza i n the same

paragraph, i t embodies a sure misunderstanding; “ I f the conception o f G o d as the one substance shocked the age in which i t was proclaimed, the reason for this was o n the one hand a n instinctive awareness that, i n this definition, self-consciousness was only submerged

and

not

preserved.” I t might be argued that the misunderstanding

was that o f “the age” rather than Hegel, but i t is also clear that Hegel took great pains t h r o u g h o u t his career to distinguish himself from Spinoza (who was a great favorite o f b o t h Schelling and Jacobi) and o n m u c h the same dubious grounds. The insistence that we have t o grasp t r u t h “not only as substance b u t equally as subject” has a much more radical a n d anti-metaphysical meaning as well, however; what Hegel 1s saying here is that the Truth

is n o t the way the world is “ i n 1tselt” (or what Kant called “noumenon”) b u t the Truth is the way the world is for us (or what Kant called “phenomenon”). From the starting point o f Hegel's philosophy, the idea o f the Truth as something beyond o u r experience is treated as a

manifest absurdity. The thesis that Truth is both substance and subject has a further significance, as a religious doctrine, a neo-pantheistic thesis that states that God is everything. But this is just the view that caused Spinoza (Fichte too) to b e publicly condemned as a virtual atheist—so Hegel

is protecting himself. He emphasizes the idea that God is self-conscious Spirit, and not just the physical universe. What he does not emphasize is the fact that God is also n o more than self-conscious Spirit, that God is nothing more than o u r (collective) recognition o f “ H i m ” (i.e. o f ourselves as Spirit). T h e reference t o Spinoza is followed by t w o more references, t o

“the opposite view, which clings t o thought as thought, t o universality as such,” and t o “thought uniting itself t o the being o f substance, apprehending immediacy or intuition as thinking.” Identifications here vary (Baillie names Kant, Fichte, and Schelling; Kaufmann and Lasson suggest Kant and Schelling). I would suggest rather the whole

sequence “Empiricism-Kant-Fichte” and then Jacobi and intuitionism as well as Schelling (the two “sides” from paragraphs 14-15).1° 16. My r e a s o n s for thinking t h i s a r e d r a w n f r o m parallel contrasts i n t h e Logic a n d t h e Lectures. See my “ A Small Problem in H e g e l ' s P h e n o m e n o l o g y , ” Journal o f the H i s t o r y

of Philosophy, vol. 13 no. 3, July, 1975.

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

257

Hegel now refers us t o “the living substance” which is “ i n truth subject” (18/15/80/28) a n d adds, “ o r what is the same, is i n truth ac-

tual only insofar as i t is the movement o f positing itself.” Here again is the developmental Bildung thesis, the emphasis o n “movement” and

self-realization (“positing itself”). The reader may have noticed by this time that Hegel plays fast and loose with such expressions as “or what is the same,” and wherever he says this, i t is a better than even bet that i t is not the same, o r at least, a radically different way o f look-

ing a t a thesis. Special attention should also be drawn t o the notion o f “actual” (wirklich) w h i c h means “genuine” o r fully developed rather

than simply “real.” Hegel introduces here another notion that will be w i t h us throughout the b o o k , the notion o f “otherness” o r what h e

here calls “simple negativity.” 7 T h e “living substance” (or Spirit) is “its self othering with itself.” “ I t is the doubling which sets up opposition.” And then it is “self-restoring sameness,” “reflection of otherness within itself.” The reader will probably recognize Fichte here, with his threepart (1) “positing” o f self (through immediate intellectual intuition, like Descartes’s Cogito), (2) o f “not-self”—the Kantian constitution o f the world o f experience, not as the world o f n a t u r e but as a moral stage, as “ o p p o s i t i o n ” — a n d the final recognition (3) that the positing

o f the “not-self” is indeed part and parcel o f the positing o f self. I t is a view

that

is n o t easy t o state w i t h intuitive plausibility, b u t i t was

accepted by Hegel, following Schelling, as a series o f virtually unquestionable proposals. Except t h a t , according t o both Hegel and Schelling, Fichte had n o t succeeded i n the third stage—self and notself remained i n perpetual opposition. But this basic image, o f self “bifurcating itself” and setting u p its own opposition, then recognizing that this opposition is indeed o f its own making, is one o f the basic “movements” o f the Phenomenology. I t 1s a n abstract analog o f a tamiliar experience; one creates a task for oneself (putting together a puzzle,

for instance), perhaps i n order t o amuse oneself, then comes t o view the task as wholly imposed, as a n imposition, a burden. Only after a moment's reflection does one realize that i t is a difficulty o f one’s o w n making.

Waxing Sartrian, we m i g h t say that “ S p i r i t [ m a n ] makes itself,” or,

as Hegel says i n paragraph 19, “the life o f God and divine cognition may well be spoken o f as a disporting o f Love with itself” (i.e. “Love playing with itself.”) A n d Hegel adds, “but this idea sinks into mere edification and even insipidity” if i t is not also seen as a serious struggle. 17. “Negativity” here means distinct from, and refers back self ( t h a t i s , t h e “ t r a n s c e n d e n t a l ego”) as t h a t which i s other objects,

t o Kant’s definition o f the t h a n i t s indefinitely many

258

Setting the Stage

I t is here (18/15/81/30) that Hegel also gives us his first image of t h e circle,

I t [Truth, Spirit] is the process o f its own becoming, the circle that presupposes its end as its goal, having its end also as its beg i n n i n g. . .

I t is a terrible metaphor; circles don’t have ends and beginnings, and i t 1s clear that what one has a t the end o f the Fichtean dialectic is not what one h a d at the beginning, except i n the vague sense that they

both refer t o self. This is again t o w a r n against Hegel's fast and loose play with “the same”; initial self-consciousness and the conception one has a t the end of the process of self-realization are n o t the same. Hegel often claims an “identity” when in fact he is referring t o a significant relation, but n o t identity a t all. This, perhaps, is the place t o make n o t e of Hegel's best-known distinction, between “in itself” and “for itself” (19/16/81/31). The distinction is well known, however, because of its importance i n JeanPaul Sartre’s philosophy. Hegel’s use o f the t e r m s is erratic, and it

should be said that, later on, the usual dichotomy is n o t this but rather between “for itself” (for a form o f consciousness) and “for us” (who can see beyond it). H e r e , as Kaufmann points o u t , “an sich” means

“superficially.” Elsewhere, i t means “considered alone” or “potentially” “For itself” means, in general, “self-consciousness” (Sartre’s usage too). H e r e i t seems t o m e a n m o r e “for its o w n benefit.” Since this is

the first occurrence o f the t e r m s i n this formal contrast, it is probably a good place for us t o begin t o be wary o f them. (See the glossary, Appendix I.) T h e t r u e is the whole [Das Wahre ist das Ganze.]

This too is one o f those catch-phrases of the Preface (20/16/81/32), but i t is easily misunderstood. Taken alone, i t conjures u p images of Bradley and the idealist “coherence theory of truth” that so outraged Bertrand Russell and G.E. Moore. But what Hegel has i n mind is rather the ultimate synthesis insisted upon by the post-Kantian syst e m builders, the need for philosophy t o encompass the whole of human experience, without leaving anything o u t . (Thus Fichte left o u t the independent existence o f n a t u r e , and Spinoza, on Hegel’s view, or i n any case d’Holbach and the hard-headed materialists, left o u t “spirit” and *“consciousness.”) And against the “coherence theory,” Hegel adds: “But the whole is nothing other than the essence consummating itself through its development.” This is not a mere coherence o f prop-

ositions but a historical enterprise:

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

259

O f the Absolute, i t m u s t be said that it is essentially a result, that only i n the end 1s i t what i t truly is.

The metaphor here is inconsistent (cf. paragraph 3, “the naked result is the corpse”). But i n what follows Hegel makes clear that the e n d o r result i n fact includes everything that has come before it, i n

other words, the completed book, and n o t just its final chapter. “The t r u e is the Whole” means the vast panorama o f forms and concepts, including their various relationships and oppositions t o each other. I t does not mean (as i n Bradley and Russell's version o f Hegel) the “thin”

!® totality of coherent propositions. I f the element of Truth is the Concept (21/17/82/32), then i t follows trivially that the truth, including the absolute t r u t h , will be conceptualized, or “mediated” (vermitteln). Against those who would argue that knowledge of the Absolute m u s t be “immediate” (e.g. Jacobi), Hegel insists that “mediation is nothing else than self-identity that moves itself; o r i t is reflection into itself, the moment o f the ego which

is for itself, pure negativity . . . simple becoming.” What lies behind this is a radical thesis, anticipated by Kant and before h i m b y Leibniz,

which Hegel is advancing regarding the established philosophical concepts o f “immediate” and “mediated.” Immediacy (Unmittelbar) and mediation (Vermittlung) traditionally turn o n a s p e c i a l metaphor, t h e first m e a n i n g “ d i r e c t ” o r “ i n t o u c h with,”

the second meaning “at a distance removed from” or “through the m e d i u m of.” I n Descartes a n d the empiricists, for example, sensory impressions are “immediate” to the mind while the objects which cause

those impressions are “mediated” through the senses, and through space as well. B u t mediation also includes the cognitive process o f

“working through” sense-experience with concepts. (This was as true for Descartes and empiricism as i t was for Kant; i t was just the n a t u r e o f the “ w o r k i n g through” that differed so radically.) I t is the cognitive

notion that Hegel employs, n o t the spatial metaphor, and his concern is with the need for all experience t o be so “worked through” with concepts. We have seen that h e follows K a n t in insisting that all ex-

perience

must

be so “worked through” or conceptualized. But now,

m o r e radically t h a n Kant, he insists that such “mediation” does n o t separate us from the Absolute (cf. Kant’s metaphor o f knowledge as 18. I t is against this view, and their “logical atomist” alternative, that one should r e a d Russell's comment that “ M o o r e t o o k t h e l e a d i n t h e rebellion, a n d I followed w i t h a sense o f e m a n c i p a t i o n . . . .

W e b e l i e v e d t h a t grass i s g r e e n , t h a t t h e s u n a n d stars

would exist i f n o one was aware o f them. T h e world which had been thin and logical n o w b e c a m e rich a n d v a r i e d ” (—“My Mental D e v e l o p m e n t , ” i n T h e Philosophy o f Bertrand Russell, ed. Paul Schilpp (La Salle, Ill.: Open Court, 1975).

260

Setting the Stage

a tool for grasping the Absolute, which distorts what i t intends t o know, which Hegel attacks i n the Introduction). I t is through conceptualization o r mediation

that

we can reach the Absolute. Again, as

always, the antagonist i n these matters is Jacobi and the intuitionists. Mediation, Hegel insists, is nothing but self-comprehension, that is, understanding how we apply o u r concepts. Since the absolute Truth

is total self-comprehension, i t follows

that

mediation, when carried

through completely, is the absolute Truth. T h i s mediation, however, is not the employment o f concepts b y the understanding, which is

“rigid” and so c a n n o t develop itself, but by reason. Thus Hegel's abrupt transition from “mediation” t o “reason” —“it is a misapprehension about reason w h e n reflection is excluded from the true instead o f b e i n g I t is reason’s reflecting upon and thus conceptualizing (“mediating”) our use of

comprehended as a positive m o m e n t o f the Absolute.”

concepts i n the understanding that gives us a n adequate theory o f truth. Reason 1s purposive activity [die Vernunft

das zweckmassige Thun ist]

I f truth comes through mediation and mediation involves the development o f concepts through reason, it is surely necessary to have some

conception o f the n a t u r e o f reason (22/17/83/34). Given the Bildung metaphor we have constantly encountered, we cannot be surprised that reason is defined i n terms o f purposiveness. N o r can we be sur-

prised that, given Hegel’s Kantian conception o f reason as a manipulator o f concepts, reason becomes essentially a n activity, a “doing.”

We have said all along that the Truth is developed i n the system and that its medium is the Concept. Thus we may also say that what develops is reason, the activity of comprehending our own understanding, for the purpose o f giving us total comprehension. I t is important to r e t u r n to o u r earlier discussion o f Hegel's biological metaphor to

insist once again that this purpose m u s t be “internal” (Hegel here urges “the banishment of external purposiveness”). I t is significant that Hegel, who has n o t yet mentioned any philosopher by name, now cites Aristotle explicitly, w h o “similarly defines nature as purpo-

sive activity” But, for Hegel, teleology is n o t a metaphysical principle. “This unrest is the self.” I t is our reason that is purposive. Again, Hegel is doing “phenomenology,” n o t ancient metaphysics.'? I n this paragraph (23/18/84/34), Hegel makes one of his most spectacular and most universally misunderstood claims, left dangling here but developed i n the Logic. Hegel apparently attacks the grammatical 19. Cf. R o s e n : “ h i s procedure i s n o t simply t o m o v e f o r w a r d b u t t o t a k e a g i a n t s t e p backward to Greek philosophy” (G.W.F. Hegel, p. 23).

Hegel’s Own View of the Phenomenology

261

distinction between subject and predicate, maintaining that the subject of assertions such as “God is eternal” or “God is love” introduces “senseless sounds, a m e r e name; only the predicate says what i t 1s a n d

is its c o n t e n t and meaning.” Hegel is n o t giving us a general claim about grammaticality, a n d this is n o t identical t o his later claim con-

cerning the aufheben’ing of the subject-object distinction. Hegel is raising a familiar ontological problem, which will be picked u p again i n chapters 1 and 2 (and with variations throughout the book). I n ordinary language, predication assumes a subject whose reference is already agreed upon (e.g. “John,” or “the dog who a t e the hamburger” o r “the r e d flower with the bee o n it”). B u t i n philosophy, reference t o such particulars becomes a problem. When we start t o analyze our identification o f the subject, we find that we have already included a number of characteristics or properties by which we distinguish him, her, or i t from other particulars. Thus the question comes up, what is left when one subtracts all such properties and is left with nothing

b u t the subject itself? O n e answer is a “bare particular” o r “substance”

stripped of all attributes, and this is what the subject refers t o . But, it can be argued (e.g. by Locke and the empiricists) that such a “bare particular” is nothing at all, a n d so what we refer to, i n fact, is n o t the

particular but the cluster o f properties; but this means, i n Hegel's terminology, that “the subject has disappeared into the predicates” (ct. 60/49/119/94). The upshot of the argument is, again in Hegel's words, that “the subject is n o t a fixed point t o which the predicates are attached.” T h u s the distinction in ordinary grammar between

subject and predicate becomes a problem o n philosophical examination, a n d i t is a n o p e n question, w h e n we refer to anything, what we in fact are referring to a n d how we can refer at all. You can guess

what rabbit Hegel is going

to

pull o u t of this ontological hat; when-

ever we refer, we are ultimately referring to Spirit. A n d w h e n we

refer t o ourselves, i n Descartes’s innocent Cogito or the “absolute a c t o f positing the self” i n Fichte and Schelling, what we are really refer-

ring t o is Spirit.

SYSTEM AND SCIENCE

. . . a so-called basic proposition or principle o f philosophy, i f

true,

is also false . . . (24/19/85/36)

I n their insistence that Kant’s philosophy be “systematized,” the postK a n t i a n s often m a d e t h e a d d i t i o n a l d e m a n d t h a t s u c h a “ s y s t e m ” c o n -

Setting the Stage

262

sist of a deduction of necessary principles from a single “first principle” or axiom. The model here is familar t o us i n the history of philosophy, for example, the geometrical systems o f Descartes, Spinoza, a n d Leibniz. O n e might argue that K a n t does have such a syst e m 1n h i s first Critique, w i t h t h e “ I t h i n k ” as its premise, t h e “ t r a n -

scendental deduction o f the categories” as its argument, a n d the

principles of the Understanding as its theorems.2° But the Critique was not fully o r explicitly presented as such a system, a n d Karl Reinhold

made a considerable reputation for himself by recasting Kant’s arguments i n this manner. More famously, Fichte had attempted t o systematize Kant i n his Wissenschaftlehre, making the first principle, as i n

Descartes and Kant, the “positing o f the ego” and then deducting various theorems, including the existence of the world (nature, the “non-ego”). Fichte introduced a peculiar twist to the concept o f “de-

duction,” which remained constant throughout the period. For Fichte, the “necessity” o f each “deduction” was n o t a matter of logical principle b u t a matter o f teleology, a move “ i n order to” d o something else. B u t Fichte fully accepted the idea t h a t a philosophical system m u s t “deduce” its conclusions from a first principle, and that first principle, like Descartes’s Cogito and Kant’s “transcendental unity of apperception,” was the existence o f one’s self. What Hegel is arguing here thus goes against the whole history o f modern philosophy, including his m o s t immediate predecessors. But this 1s n o t just another reiteration of his view that “the truth lies i n

the whole.” I t is also the argument, now commonplace, that any “first

principle” —“self-evident” or not—precedes argument, and thus renders the whole system vulnerable t o the rejection of the first principle. Hegel had seen this often enough i n the history of philosophy; one philosopher begins with the claim, “there is only one substance” and another begins with “there are innumerable substances”—and there is n o common ground for argument. What's more, Hegel goes

on

to

argue, every such principle will have its “defect,” i f only being

“one-sided.” A n d so, the system o f the Phenomenology will n o t have a first principle; indeed, i n a sense, 1t does n o t even have a beginning. We just begin. B u t what we begin with has n o special status; i n fact, it

will be first t o be aufgehoben. A n d now, another summary (25/19/85/38): That the True is actual only as system, o r that Substance is essentially Subject, is expressed i n the representation o f the Absolute as Spirit— the most sublime concept and the one which belongs t o the modern age and its religion. 20. See Robert Paul Wolff, Kants Theory of Mental Activity (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U n i v . Press, 1965).

263

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

This is the first we have been actually told that Spirit 1s the Absolute, b u t i t has n o t been a secret. H e g e l n o w goes o n to tell us that “ t h e

spiritual alone is the actual; i t is essence, or that which has being in itself” (Notice that this phrase, here, means “totally independent.”) I t also “relates itself t o itself” (the Fichtean image of spirit dividing itself into a n “opposition”) a n d i t is “ i n a n d for itself” too, that is, i t comes to

realize (in Fichte’s third step) that i t is everything, “for itself,” i.e.

knowing itself as spirit. I n this paragraph, Hegel now plays fast and

loose with the concepts “ i n itself” and “for itself” (an sich and fiir sich) as well as “for us.” What he is saying however, is much simpler than his word-play would suggest. Spirit, before it comes to “realize itself” ( i n Hegel's philosophy) does not yet see itself as Spirit, b u t we ( r e a d i n g

Hegel) already know that i t will do so. And human thought, summarized i n the Phenomenology, is the vehicle i n w h i c h i t comes

to

d o so

(“the realm which i t builds for itself i n its own element’ —i.e. “the pure Concept”). We have thus far covered only 14 pages o f the Preface, but we can see that i t is already becoming highly repetitive. As we move on, the

“growth” metaphors will keep coming (the “soil” image in paragraph 26), the importance of Science and the role of the Concept i n Spirit's self-realization will be stated upside-down and backwards, and the potential-actual Aristotelian metaphor of “ i n itself” and “for itself” will be used t o pound u s into submission. But a t this point too, Hegel’s interest starts t o shift toward t h e Logic h e t h e n i n t e n d e d t o write, a n d

the role o f the Phenomenology as mere introduction becomes more i n

evidence (as explicitly stated in 35/28/96/58). I n paragraph 26 (20/87/40), we m e e t the ladder metaphor; “the individual has the right t o demand that Science should a t least provide him with the ladder t o this standpoint” and then, “should show him this standpoint within himself.” (An odd mixed metaphor; so why need a ladder?)?! I n paragraph 28 (22F/89/44), Hegel tells us again that

The task o f leading the individual from his uneducated standpoint t o knowledge had t o be seen i n its universal sense, just as ı t was the universal individual, self-conscious Spirit, whose formative educa-

tion had

to

be studied.

But this time, the “education” (Bildung) is explicitly made

out to

be

21. Wittgenstein, i n his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, also p r o v i d e d us w i t h a “ l a d d e r , ” b u t h e pulled i t o u t

from u n d e r u s o n c e w e climbed i t . H e g e l , o n t h e o t h e r hand,

intends t h e ladder t o b e a fixture o f o u r experience, so that w e can climb u p a n d d o w n as w e l i k e , i n t e r w e a v i n g o u r n e w - f o u n d S c i e n c e w i t h o u r m o s t e v e r y d a y e x p e r i e n c e s

(PG, 4).

264

Setting the Stage

one and the same for each individual and for Spirit (“the universal individual”). Not only is the single individual “incomplete Spirit, a c o n c r e t e shape . . . ” i n which other individuals and the unity they share is only a “blurred outline.” Hegel also tells u s that the path followed b y every individual i n his o r h e r education is the same p a t h

already blocked o u t by Spirit itself (that is, by others before us), and the stages have been “made level w i t h toil.” O n e can imagine, for example, h o w difficult life would be for each o f us (assuming i t would even be possible) i f we had t o invent a language, construct a social

order and rules for cooperation anew, every generation. We revise and reform, t o be sure, but the variations i n language from generation t o generation, for example, are b u t nuances u p o n nuances, a few new words, a few grammatical subtleties. What the conservatives see

in horror as “the disintegration of the language” is i n fact the most minimal change. We learn the language that is taught t o us. We “discover” what has been “discovered” a million times before us. A n d each o f us, i n o u r abbreviated way, goes through the steps that, we

may suppose, the speakers of language and the early speakers o f English went through w i t h great difficulty, over hundreds o r thousands

of years—and we learn it all i n a few months. So i t is with the forms o f consciousness in general; the institutions o f social responsibility, the rituals o f obedience a n d courtesy, the practices that make u p a

culture—all o f these we learn i n months or years, but they were crea t e d , i n m o r e o r less t h e same s e q u e n c e , o v e r s e v e r a l millennia. T h u s

Hegel tells us, “ i n a childs progress i n school, we shall recognize the

history of the cultural development of the world.” But then, looking a t this parallel from the other side (of Universal Spirit as substance), the education o f each child and all of the children is nothing but “its [Spirit's] acquisition o f self-consciousness” culminating, o f course, in

the writing and reading of the Phenomenology. “Science,” Hegel tells us again (29/24/90/46), is this formative process, a n d its goal is Spirit's insight into itself. We would l i k e to be told, o f course, what this insight is, b u t this would be “the e n d without the

means.” We each have t o r e t r a c e all o f these steps, and “linger over them,” appreciating each as “ a complete individual form.” Anticipat-

ing his Philosophy o f History, he tells us that, given the a m o u n t of trouble the World Spirit (Weltgeist) has gone through t o provide us w i t h the means, the least we could d o is t o look at them, get ac-

quainted with them, which requires on our part, “a higher level of cultural reorientation.” (The notion o f “higher” levels and such ascension imagery pervades these m i d d l e paragraphs.) Hegel is getting a n x i o u s t o g e t u s there.

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

265

HEGEL'S THEORY OF “PHILOSOPHICAL TRUTH”

I f the Preface of the Phenomenology is a preliminary account of a theory of truth, what is that theory? So far, despite the twists and t u r n s of Hegel’s prose, we have n o t been told very much. I n fact, boiled down to essentials, we have only been told that Truth, as the Absolute o r

Spirit,

must

be all-comprehensive, and is t o be found in the history

o f collective h u m a n thought. T h e theory itself, however, is stated bluntly, i f obscurely, i n paragraph 37, w h e n . . ‚Spirit has made its existence identical with its essence, i t has itself

for its object just as i t is, and the abstract element o f immediacy, and o f the separation o f knowing and truth, is overcome. Being 1s then

absolutely mediated; i t is a substantial c o n t e n t which is just as immediately the property o f the ‘ I , i t is self-like or the Concept.

Hegels theory, anticipated here, is this: Truth is n o t correspondence of “being” and “knowing.” Truth is the conceptual activity through which we conceive the world together with our recognition that these concepts determine the world (“Being is absolutely mediated”). There

is no Reality “ i n itself” beyond our experience (“existence identical with its essence”). Truth is experience (“the property o f the ‘ I ' ” ) con-

ceived through, and nothing other than, “the Concept” (the conceptual constitution of the way things “really” are). Truth is nothing other than the self-satisfaction of those basic concepts with which we think and experience the world and which themselves make up the structure of the world. With this, the Phenomenology of Spirit 1s concluded. What Spirit prepares for itself i n i t , is the element o f [true] knowing. I n this

element the m o m e n t s o f Spirit now spread themselves o u t i n that form of simplicity which knows its object as its own self. They no longer fall apart into the antithesis o f being and knowing, but remain i n the simple oneness o f knowing; they are the True i n the form o f the True, and their difference 1s only the difference o f c o n t e n t . Their m o v e m e n t , w h i c h o r g a n i z e s i t s e l f i n t h i s e l e m e n t i n t o a whole, i s

Logic o r speculative philosophy.

H e r e Hegel is telling us n o t only that the Phenomenology is a mere preliminary to the system proper, b u t that the Phenomenology is not

“Science” a t all; i t is only “the system o f the experience o f Spirit,” “the appearance o f Spirit” and so something “false.” I n other words, the entire Phenomenology is a study o f the “false” (i.e. incomplete) forms o f consciousness, the Logic the “ t r u e ” ones (“the True in its true shape”). B u t then H e g e l assures us, again (cf. paragraph 2) that the “false” has its p r o p e r place i n philosophy too, since i t is b y way o f the “false” that

266

Setting the Stage

we arrive at the “true.” I t is because o f the often simple-minded claims o f earlier philosophers that we n o w have a sense o f the Truth at all. A t this p o i n t , Hegel gives us two alternative paradigms to his “absolute” view o f Truth as the satisfaction o f o u r o w n concepts a n d cri-

teria, “Spirit knowing itself” or “the self-realization of the Concept”: in m o d e r n terms, we recognize t h e m as the “correspondence theory

of truth” and the “coherence theory o f truth,” which take as their paradigms historical factual knowledge and mathematical theorems respectively.

Regarding historical truths, we are tempted t o think that a claim such as “Caesar was born in 102 B.C.” w o u l d be made true b y a fact,

namely, the fact that Caesar was born i n 102 B.C. The truth of the claim supposedly consists i n its “correspondence” with that fact. But, Hegel argues (40/32/100/62), any knowledge of such a fact, t o be of value, “must be supported by reasons.” The argument is clearly ınsufficient, since a correspondence theorist would rightly protest that,

although the justification of our claim t o knowledge might require such reasons, the truth o f the claim would not. To give the argument its

force, one

must

add Hegel's view that there is no valid distinction

between justification and truth, that o u r way o f knowing is what makes i t true. This 1s not to deny that i n some sense, a historical claim is

made t r u e by “a fact,” o r that there may be historical truths which we do n o t and may never know. But i t m u s t be clear that such factual t r u t h cannot be the paradigm o r model for a philosophical theory o f

truth. A philosophical theory is n o t particularly concerned with facts b u t r a t h e r w i t h general comprehension. I t is not a question o f corre-

spondence but rather of the best overall interpretation. A more persuasive paradigm for philosophy has been mathematics, the lure of Euclidean certainty and Newtonian elegance t h a t had seduced Descartes and so many rationalists. Yet Hegel points o u t that there are glaring dis-analogies between the truth o f a mathematical theorem and the truth o f a philosophical theory. (He does n o t consider the m o r e enticing analogy, between a mathematical theory a n d a

philosophical theory.) A mathematical theorem is true whatever its proof, “its proof is external t o its truth.”?2 A philosophical theory, however, requires its development as part o f its truth. Moreover,

mathematical knowledge is “defective” because o f its “poverty of purpose” and “the defectiveness o f its material,” that is, i t has nothing t o do with comprehension o f ourselves o r with the development o f the C o n c e p t o r Truth

( i n m o d e r n t e r m s , mathematics i s n o t y e t meta-

22. Perhaps i t s h o u l d b e p o i n t e d o u t h e r e t h a t H e g e l w a s a modestly accomplished mathematician; t h e c a l c u l u s w a s o n e o f t h e s u b j e c t s h e t a u g h t b o t h a t Jena a n d i n t h e G y m n a s i u m a t Niarmberg.

267

Hegel’s Own View of the Phenomenology

mathematics). Again, the arguments are not convincing, and one must

presuppose much o f Hegel's later theory i n order even t o make sense of them. But the upshot o f the c o n t r a s t between Hegel's theory and historical and mathematical truth is clear: an adequate and totally comprehensive theory o f

truth

can take neither matters o f fact n o r

purely formal truths as its paradigm. Truth is n o t merely “correspondence with t h e facts” nor is i t “provability w i t h i n a system.”

Here (47/361/105/70) Hegel gives us the least helpful but the dramatic characterization of “philosophical truth”:

most

T h e True 1s thus the Bacchanalian revel i n which no member 1s n o t drunk; yet because each member collapses as soon as h e drops out,

the revel is just as much transparent and simple repose.?*

The “members” o f the revelry are the individual forms o f Spirit, “mo-

o f the Concept” whose “appearance is the actuality and the o f truth.” The revelry or “giddiness” refers, as Kaufmann argues, t o the fact that each form “is unbalanced and a little ridiculous,” but they appear together, i n “tranquil repose.” Schacht describes the “whirl” a bit differently: i t is the function o f the e v a n e s c e n t appearance and disappearance of conscious e v e n t s while the “transments

movement

parent a n d simple repose” is due to “ t h e substance, the Begriff, which

is timeless and unchanging.”?* But here the difference i n interpretation becomes all-important, for it is a n open question whether the Concept is i n any sense “timeless and unchanging,” and whether it even makes sense t o describe an orgy as a “tranquil repose.” I n the Logic, perhaps (e.g. p. 58f.) the various forms may commune together peaceably, but i n the Phenomenology we have instead “living substances,” all roaring drunk, competing with one another i f also holding each other up. A n d i f indeed each collapses as i t leaves the revelry, the “tranquil repose” may be nothing other than the fact that, a t the end of the book, the party is over. I n vino veritas, after all.

HEGEL'S M E T H O D : “ D I A L E C T I C ”

I t is not until very late i n the Preface (48/37/106/72), that Hegel finally

begins t o broach the topic of “method”: I t m i g h t seem necessary a t the o u t s e t t o say more about the method o f this movement, 1.e., o f Science. B u t its Concept is already to b e found i n what has been said, and its proper exposition belongs t o 23. “der bacchantische Taumel” “Taumel” is literally “giddiness”; cf. Baillie- “revel,” K a u f m a n n - “whirl” F i n d l a y - “ r i o t . ” T r u t h as d r u n k e n o r g y ; what a welcome r e l i e f from J.-L. Austin: “ i n vino, perhaps, veritas, b u t i n a sober symposium, verum.” 2 4 . Schacht, p . 19.

268

Setting the Stage Logic, or rather i t is Logic. For the method is nothing but the s t r u c t u r e s e t forth i n its pure essentiality. We should realize, however, that the system o f ideas concerning philosophical method is yet another set o f c u r r e n t beliefs that belongs t o a bygone culture.“

I n other words Hegel rejects the idea o f a “method” in philosophy. (See Chapter 6, on the Introduction.) What he has in mind in particular is the “old fashioned” idea that philosophical science should be as precise as mathematics, as in Descartes’s deductive model and the many such models developed ever since. But he also includes any “method” which includes “asserting propositions, adducing reasons for i t and refuting its opponents.” Methods are “external,” Hegel tells us, whereas

“Truth (die Wahrheit) is its own self-movement.” The Phenomenology does n o t have a “method,” therefore, but rather we (the philosophers reading Hegel) will follow the Concept as it transforms itself. T h i s finally leads, a t l o n g last, to w h a t everyone knows as “ t h e dia-

lectic” (50/38/107/74): . the triadic form?

must not

be regarded as scientific when it is

reduced to a lifeless schema, a mere shadow, a n d when scientific o r -

ganization is degraded into a table o f t e r m s . Kant rediscovered this triadic form by instinct, but i n his work i t was still lifeless and uncomprehended. Since then i t has, however, been raised t o its absolute significance. . . so that the Concept of Science has emerged.

T h e rare and welcome reference t o a proper name m u s t be noted.

The following discussion alludes unquestionably

to

Schelling, culmi-

nating in a n attack o n Schelling’s “schematizing formalism” and “monochromatic character” (51-52). I n case there was any doubt a t

the beginning of the Preface whether Schelling was the butt of Hegels attack, the very explicit references t o the details of Schelling’s Naturphilosophie i n paragraph 50 should settle that. Having thus accused Kant and Schelling (Fichte too)” of having deprived this “excellent” idea of life and Spirit, “flayed . . . its skin wrapped around lifeless knowledge” (52), Hegel proceeds t o outline his dialectic. “Science dares only organize itself by the life of the Concept itself,” in other words, by watching the associations and require25. “Concept” (“Begriff”) here refers to a particular conception o f method. “The Concept” takes o n an entire spectrum o f meanings i n Hegel, from particular concepts a n d conceptions t o a n a b b r e v i a t i o n for t h e holistic conception o f his e n t i r e philosophy.

“Culture” i n the above quotation is “Bildung.” 26. T h e “ t r i a d i c form” i s t h e f a m o u s “ t h e s i s - a n t i t h e s i s - s y n t h e s i s ” from

Kant and

Fichte. I t is n o t e w o r t h y b o t h that (1) H e g e l assumes that i t is so familiar t o his readers t h a t h e n e e d n o t spell i t o u t

explicitly

and

(2)

he does not bother to use this

form

himself, either i n his discussion i n the Preface o r i n t h e text o f t h e book. 27. C f . Hegel's Philosophy o f Nature, trans. A.V, Miller ( O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press,

1970), p. 50n.

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

269

ments o f the various forms o f consciousness, according to their o w n

inner “logic” The Understanding, he tells us, 1s just a “pigeon-holing process,” but scientific cognition-reason- “demands surrender t o the life o f the object, o r what is the same t h i n g [N.B.] confronting a n d

expressing its inner necessity” (53). W e now, finally ( 5 4 / 4 3 / 1 1 1 / 8 2 ) , r e a c h a d i s c u s s i o n o f idealism as

such, but first o f all Hegel takes another swipe a t his colleagues for their “superficial” (begriffios) talk about “the identity of Thought and Being.” Against Fichte, he says that “Science is n o t that idealism which replaced the dogmatism o f assertion with a dogmatism o f assurance,

or a dogmatism of self-certainty” Fichte, remember, divided all philosophy into t w o camps, “dogmatism” (which might more neutrally be called “realism”) and “idealism”—which he vastly preferred. Hegel’s accusing h i m o f “dogmatism” here (albeit the “dogmatism of selfcertainty”) is a calculated insult. W h a t H e g e l suggests instead 1s that,

by using “cunning,” namely, by pretending

to

“abstain from activity”

b u t i n fact looking o n a n d watching, we can see how the content o f consciousness a n d its various forms transform themselves (54).

This image of consciousness in self-transformation is the key t o the Phenomenology a n d its “dialectical” m e t h o d . Notice t h a t i t is not we

(reading the Phenomenology) who are doing the transforming, nor is i t Hegel. The forms o f consciousness change themselves, through history, obviously, b u t , m u c h more importantly, through their o w n logi-

cal interplay which Hegel calls their “logical necessity” (56). H e tells us that the study o f Science is t o take o n for oneself “ t h e s t r e n u o u s

effort of the Concept” (Anstrengung des Begriffs) (57); that is, we m u s t think ourselves through the whole sequence o f concepts and forms (instead of wasting our time reading the Preface, perhaps). We have already given an example o f how such self-transformation works, i n the sequence of philosophies that make u p British Empiricism; i t was n o t just the particular philosophers (Locke, Berkeley, and Hume) but the logic o f the ideas themselves that rendered necessary the sequence. A n d the student o f philosophy comes to understand that se-

quence, n o t just by reading the philosophers but by thinking oneself through the same sequence o f ideas. O n Anaxagoras (55/44/114/85), cf. Hegel in the Science of Logic (Introduction): Anaxagoras is praised as the man who first gave voice t o the idea that we ought t o lay down, as the world-principle, Nous, that is thought, and thought as the world-essence. H e thus laid the foundation o f an intellectualist view o f the universe, a n d o f this view logic m u s t b e the p u r e f o r m . I n i t w e a r e n o t c o n c e r n e d w i t h t h i n k i n g about something

Setting the Stage

270

lying outside thought, as the basis o f thought, nor with forms which serve merely as signs o f truth; on the contrary, the necessary forms and characteristic determinations o f thought are the c o n t e n t and the supreme truth itself.

Hegel has several times now used the t e r m “speculative” (59/47/ 117/88)—as a way o f thinking, as a k i n d o f philosophy. I t was a term

he used

at

some length i n his early Differenz-essay on Fichte and

Schelling, b u t i t plays virtually n o role i n the text o f the Phenomenology. I t is rather a reference to the standpoint o f the Logic, and it means:

thinking i n t e r m s o f the whole, i n t e r m s o f synthesis, n o t analysis. Hegel's biographers are fond o f saying that he preferred “dialectical” a n d “speculative thinking” by temperament. This 1s, perhaps, a n i m portant p o i n t ; some philosophers, H u m e for instance, t e n d to ap-

proach problems analytically, asking such questions as “How does it work?” “ W h a t are its components?” and “ H o w can we prove (or dis-

prove) this?” Schelling and Hegel, on the other hand, tend t o be holistic and thereby synthetic, asking instead such questions as “How do these things tie together?” and “How does this fit into the larger picture?” I n the Phenomenology this difference is n o t explained very well; i n the Logic, Hegel distinguishes between analytic, dialectical, and speculative thinking.?® Analytic thinking is the exclusive use o f the limited concepts o f understanding. Dialectic, he tells us, is “the supersession o f finite characters” (that is, the concepts o f the under-

standing) which pass into their opposites—as i n Kant’s antinomies. I n the employment o f the understanding, these antinomies will be nothing but contradictions (as Kant concluded). B u t i n the service o f speculative reasoning, dialectic can be recognized “in a true light” as “the internal tendency of one-sidedness . . . of the understanding.” 2° I n general, Hegel says, dialectic is nothing but life, m o v e m e n t o f any kind, any development i n several stages. But speculation 1s something more than this; i t is “positive reason”? and “absolute selfcomprehension”3!; i t “apprehends the unity o f propositions i n their opposition.”? I n other words, while dialectic displays the movement o f concepts, speculative thinking sees t h e i r unity. I n the Phenomenology, this distinction is n o t made so clearly. I n the Logic, Hegel tells us that speculation is very much like “what used t o be called Mysticism,” except that mysticism is “ t h e negative p r o d u c t o f the understanding” 28. Trans. W. Wallace The Logic of Hegel (Logic), p . 79f. 29. Logic, p . 81.

30. Ibid. 82. 31. I b i d . 153. 32. I b i d . 82.

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

271

while speculative Truth is “positive.” The speculation of the Phenomenology, however, is confined t o the short final chapter; the rest is all

dialectic. One problem that exercises Hegel considerably is the form that a s e n t e n c e could possibly have i f it is t o describe—as one m u s t i f i t is t o be “speculative” —the whole of things. This is the problem of the Logic rather than the Phenomenology, but i t might be worth mentioning, since Hegel hints a t i t here ( 5 8 - 6 8 as well as 23). Simply stated, the problem is that, i f everything is the subject, what else could there be t o say about i t , t o apply as predicate? T h u s thinking, Hegel tells us, “loses

its firm objective basis” (62). But rather than clarify, much less give examples of what “speculative thinking” and “the Concept” should look like, he again begins taking swipes a t his competitors and distinguishes true “speculative thinking” from merely “argumentative” reasoning which just w a n t s t o refute everyone else’s positions without offering a n alternative o f its own, and “raciocinative” thinking which

resembles speculation but instead just assumes the Absolute t o begin with and then plays around with various contents (Schelling, of course); he distinguishes i t too from merely formal thinking that involves concepts without any c o n t e n t a t all, and from “picture-thinking” which confuses metaphors for concepts, images for truth. What we do n o t g e t , m u c h t o o u r annoyance, i s t h e o n e t h i n g t h a t w o u l d h e l p u s r e a d

the Phenomenology—an account o f t h e “ C o n c e p t ” as i t relates to t h e

different “forms” or “shapes” (Gestalten) of that book and a clear sense of what the “dialectic,” as opposed t o the final a c t o f “speculative” recognition, is doing. The word “dialectic” does n o t appear until paragraph 65 (51/123/ 98), a n d t h e n only i n a series o f short bursts (“dialectical movement”

and “dialectical form” i n 66). Notice that “dialectic” is not a method o r a k i n d o f “proof” i n the usual sense. I t is n o t a way o f establishing the t r u t h so m u c h as i t us the truth. Growth is n o t the acorn’s method

o f finding an oak tree. T h e “parts” o r “elements” o f the dialectic are propositions (Sätze).

Thus the dialectic is intimately bound up with concepts and with language (66/51/123/98). This is n o t t o say that Sätze are s e n t e n c e s o f any particular language, n o r are they the abstract entities that some re-

cent philosophers (e.g. G.E. Moore, Bertrand Russell, Alonzo Church) have made them o u t t o be. A Satz is more like an assertion o r s t a t e ment, but with the stipulation that i t need n o t be publicly made and 33. I d .

154.

272

Setting the Stage

need n o t be held by any particular person.** The proposition itself is a n “ e m p t y form,” that is, a n abstract characterization. As a “thought determination,’ i t is a n “intellectual abbreviation” o f a form o f con-

sciousness. The Phenomenology is a dialectic of propositions which constitute as well as describe forms of consciousness. But it is n o t a substitution for experience, much less experience itself. The Phenomenology, like Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, 1s a book t o be read by those who have already had the requisite experience. I n what follows (67/124/102/53), Hegel presents an ironic but very readable essay on the substitution of common sense for serious philosophy, as if philosophy is something everyone can do (Hegel says, we don’t believe that anyone who has eyes and fingers can make shoes,

so why does everyone think hes a philosopher?). O r else, i t is supposed that philosophy is “merely formal knowledge devoid o f content.” B u t for Hegel, philosophy is the basis o f all knowledge, as necessary t o every Science as i t is t o “life, Spirit, and truth.” H e argues once again that philosophical Science and “common sense,” initially

thought t o be opposed t o each other, are really related as the fully matured and actual t o the implicit and the merely potential. And again, against common-sense philosophy and intuitionism and “those who read reviews of philosophical essays, a t m o s t prefaces and first paragraphs,” h e repeats that “ t r u e thoughts a n d scientific insight are only t o be won through the labor o f the Concept” (70). A t this point Hegel

actually compares himself with Plato and Aristotle (in case we haven't yet appreciated the importance o f a l l o f this) a n d contrasts his views

with “current ideas about truth.” He prepares himself t o be ill-received by a public that is “not ready t o receive” the Truth, but he saves his special scorn for those who, unlike the general public, will blame the author rather than themselves for their difficulty i n understanding it (71). I t is with some relief that we t u r n t o the last page o f the Preface where, finally, Hegel gives us i n a single short paragraph what the Preface itself, and ultimately the whole o f the text, is all about—the 3 4 . T h e d i s t i n c t i o n p r e s u p p o s e d h e r e i s n o w commonly m a d e b y philosophers o f l a n g u a g e , b e t w e e n t h e language i t s e l f ( o r w h a t S a u s s u r e c a l l e d “langue”) a n d t h e l a n guage spoken ( S a u s s u r e ’ s “ p a r o l e ” ) . Logicians o f t e n distinguish b e t w e e n t h e proposition, which i s t h e b e a r e r o f t r u t h a n d falsity, t h e sentence, which i s t h e b a s i c unit o f t h e lang u a g e , a n d t h e statement, which r e q u i r e s a s p e a k e r using a s e n t e n c e t o a s s e r t a p r o p o s i t i o n . A s t a t e m e n t i s m a d e by a p a r t i c u l a r p e r s o n a t a particular time; p r o p o s i t i o n s and

sentences a r e n o t localizable i n this sense a n d so can b e said t o b e impersonal (or, sometimes, “ e t e r n a l ” ) . I t i s t h i s t h a t Hegel h a s

i n mind when h e

insists t h a t “ t h e C o n c e p t ”

is

“eternal,” w h i c h n o more carries with i t the bliss o f eschatological theology t h a n W.V.O.

Quine’s r o u t i n e l y s e c u l a r c o n c e p t i o n o f a n “eternal s e n t e n c e , ” t h a t i s , a s e n t e n c e s o modified t h a t i t remains t r u e in e v e r y c o n t e x t o f u t t e r a n c e . (Hegel i n v o k e s t h e s a m e n o t i o n i n t h e c h a p t e r o n “ S e n s e - C e r t a i n t y , ” w h e r e h e t o y s with t h e i d e a o f translating the c o n t e x t - b o u n d statement “ I t is n o w n i g h t - t i m e ” i n t o a n eternal sentence.)

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

273

emergence o f a sense o f universal Spirit a n d the consequent unimportance o f the individual: For the rest, a t a time when the universality o f Spirit has gathered such strength, a n d t h e singular detail, as is fitting, has become correspondingly less important, when too, that universal aspect claims a n d holds o n to the w h o l e range o f t h e wealth i t has developed, the

share ın the total work o f the Spirit which falls t o the individual can only be very small. Because o f this, the individual m u s t all the more forget himself, as the n a t u r e o f Science implies and requires. O f

course, h e m u s t m a k e o f himself a n d achieve what h e can; b u t less

be demanded o f him, just as he i n t u r n can expect less of himself, and may demand less for himself. (Phenomenology, 72)

must

For the reader who 1s accustomed t o finding i n prefaces a few sarcastic remarks and sentimental expressions of gratitude t o the a u thor’s colleagues, publisher, husband wife, mother, or typist, the foregoing m u s t have been exhausting. Accordingly, one might be well advised t o consider a brief dialectical respite before getting down t o “the subject matter itself,” namely, the Phenomenology.

Appendix to Part I : A Glossary o f Terms, Translated into Ordinary English Because Hegel sought

to

overcome—without

ın any

way being a

purist—the alienated academic language o f philosophy, because he injected into the foreign t e r m s and artificial expressions o f that language the concepts o f ordinary thinking, he succeeded i n introduci n g the speculative spirit of his native language into the speculative m o v e m e n t o f philosophizing. —Hans Georg Gadamer, Hegels Dialektik

The problem with Hegel's terminology is not so much an excessive use of jargon as such, but his free and rather careless use o f everyday terms i n a variety o f contexts, a source o f annoying obscurity only vaguely excused by the theory of “speculative” language and “the fluidity o f the Concept.” Terms are used inconsistently; they are played off against one another and punned upon. Casual colloquialisms are drafted t o do the job o f concepts that ought t o be well-defined and, worst o f all, Hegel seems t o think t h a t the less explicit a term, the greater the scope o f its meaning. I n what follows I have tried t o give

a fair account o f the way H e g e l uses some o f his most commonly

recurring terms, particularly i n the Preface and Introduction o f the Phenomenology, since the t e r m s throughout the r e s t o f the t e x t tend t o

Setting the Stage

274

be variations on these. A l l terms should always be interpreted i n cont e x t , however, because of their ambiguity and “fluidity.” (Crossreferenced t e r m s in the glossary appear i n small capital letters.) ABSOLUTE (das Absolute): complete, self-contained, all-encompassing. “The Absolute” is the unified, comprehensible whole—in plain terms, knowable reality. When Hegel talks about “knowing the Absolute” he means, knowing reality (as opposed to just knowing our own perceptions a n d ideas). W h e n h e talks about “absolute knowledge” h e means

knowledge that is unbiased, undistorted, unqualified, all-encompassing, free from counter-examples and internal inconsistencies. Opposed to: relative, qualified, C O N D I T I O N E D , A B S T R A C T , partial. “Absolute k n o w i n g ” does not m e a n k n o w i n g every detail about everything. I t means having a n adequate conception o f knowledge a n d the Absolute, and understanding that there is n o separation o r “epistemological gap”

between them. A B S T R A C T (abstrakt): one-sided, partial, empty, devoid o f content. T o abstract is t o pick o u t some aspects o f a thing t o the exclusion o f

others, or

to

make a general claim without fleshing o u t its details and

its c o n t e x t . ( F o r e x a m p l e , a f r e s h m a n philosopher t h r o w s off t h e

that “it’s all subjective,” or a television guru declares that “ A l l is One.”). Opposed t o : C O N C R E T E . A n “abstract universal” is an

comment

inadequate o r ungrounded conception, o r a half-truth. “Abstract” does not mean “theoretical” o r “abstruse.”

A C T I V I T Y (Thun): “doing,” a n irregular, very general concept. Opposed t o : passivity, mere thinghood. The picture Hegel gives o f consciousness, reason, a n d reality, which h e gets from Leibniz, K a n t , a n d

Fichte, is that of an active grasping (auffasen or aufzufassen), determination of the world o f experience through the application of concepts. I t is opposed t o the passive-receptive model of empiricism and intuitionism. “Activity” is t o be construed i n the general sense, n o t necessarily a full-blooded action o r even as a n activity in the usual sense. Cf. the later epistemological concept o f “act” in European epis-

temology. I n the Phenomenology: “Reason is purposive activity” (Phenomenology, 22). Reality, too, is activity (of Spirit).

ACTUAL, ACTUALITY (wirklich, Wirklichkeit): fully developed, matured, in the case of Spirit or Truth, explicit, “for-itself.” Opposed t o : potentiality, possible b u t n o t yet developed. “Only the spiritual is actual” means that only a spiritual conception o f ourselves is fully de-

veloped and fully adequate: i t does not mean

that

only the spiritual is

real, that is, only i t exists. (Cf. i n the Preface t o the Philosophy of Right: “ T h e actual is the rational; the rational 1s the actual” which means that

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

275

what is fully developed according to its o w n internal principles is rational, and vice versa. I t is virtually a tautology. I t is not the horrendous political statement that what is real, that is, whatever is the case,

is rational and therefore right.) [AUFHEBEN]: This is one o f the few German terms that is well-enough k n o w n to English readers to deserve its o w n entry. I t is usually translated b y Miller as “supersede,” b y Baillie as “sublate,” b y Kaufmann as “sublimate.” I n ordinary German it means “ t o pick something u p ” ; i n the dialectic o f the Phenomenology i t means to move on, b u t keeping o r conserving what has come before i t . T h u s , according t o Hegel,

Hume's philosophy is an ‘aufhebung’ o f Locke’s empiricism, because it retains its essential principles b u t moves o n to work o u t the consequences and implications i n a very different form than one finds i n

Locke. A foreign agent may be a violent homeopath who has “aufge-

hoben” his infantile aggression i n the more respectable outlet of “duty t o country,” and a philosopher may take up a common-sensical idea and, saving its central insights, render i t aufgehoben as a sophisticated philosophical theory. But i n addition t o the moving on and preserving the essential content, “aufheben” also has the implication of an improvement, an elevation o f the original into something better. The transitions o f the Phenomenology are all supposed to aufheben the ones

before them. [BILDUNG]: see D E V E L O P M E N T

CERTAINTY (Gewissheit): unquestioning, naive, unreflective, taken as simply obvious, given. Usually paired with I M M E D I A T E . Opposed t o : U N C E R T A I N T Y . The first attitude i n each phase of the dialectic, e.g. “Sense-Certainty,” “Self-Certainty,” “Reasons Certainty.” Not: known beyond a doubt (for good reasons). I t is a n attitude o f the knower, not

the degree o f

warrant

for the known. But “certainty” can also

refer t o the object o f unreflective assurance, as i n “that’s a certainty.”

COMPREHENSION (begreifen; aufzufassen): more than just knowing: “grasping” and “taking hold of”; cognitive control. Ultimately, all comprehension, unlike “understanding,” is self~comprehension, selfconsciousness, reflective knowing. Begreifen is linked t o the Concept (Begriff) and is involved i n absolute knowing: aufzufassen is more like “apprehending” or recognizing i n an unreflective way. Comprehension includes the ability t o explain, t o articulate, t o justify. Opposed to: naiveté, indifference.

CONCEPT (Begriff): the tool of both understanding and reason. For Kant, a concept is a “ r u l e ” for interpreting experience. When Hegel

talks o f “the Concept” he sometimes just means “concepts” (in gen-

Setting the Stage

276

eral). I n the Phenomenology he often means the m o s t adequate conception of the world as a whole. But this also includes the m o s t adequate conception o f the concepts we use i n comprehending the world, a n d

so one might say that “the Concept” is the c o r r e c t conception about the role of Concepts i n the world. Hegel would reject Kant’s distinction between a priori and empirical concepts on the grounds that no concepts are necessary outside of some particular context, although he would also hold that certain concepts can be necessary t o and “constitutive” of a particular form of consciousness. For example, the concept o f “cause” is necessary to a n d part o f the conceptual structure o f Newtonian mechanics, b u t i t Is i n n o sense a priori for knowledge i n

general. Because Hegel thinks that the m o s t adequate conception of something is always the conception of i t as a whole, he often uses “the Concept” simply t o refer t o the conception of a thing i n its entirety (for example, he talks about “the Concept of an animal” as a living c r e a t u r e , rather than as a body of parts, as an anatomist might view it.) A n d since Hegel is so concerned with the way concepts change, he also uses “the Concept” t o refer t o the process of conceptual development. These very different meanings are usually evident i n context. Opposed t o : INTUITION (Anschauung) or inarticulate apprehension; It is often juxtaposed with O B J E C T i n the opening chapters of the Phenomenology, and it is sometimes contrasted with image (Vorstellung), translated by Miller as “picture-thinking.” N.B. “Der Begriff” 1s generally translated by Miller, and erratically by Baillie, as “Notion.” I have used “concept” everywhere i n my discussions, including my quotations from the Miller translation o f the text. CONCRETE (konkret; also wirklich): the whole, the thing-itself. Opposed t o :

ABSTRACT.

Does not mean “particular” o r “solid,” except i n

the sense of “ i n its entirety” The sidewalk i n front o f the library is made o f concrete, b u t i t 1s not konkret. C O N D I T I O N E D (bedingt): limited, finite, contextually dependent. “Conditioned universal” (Unbedingtallgemeinen) = p r o p e r t y (Eigen-

schaft), e.g. redness, sweetness. CONSCIOUSNESS (bewusstsen): knowing something; conscious of. . . . Consciousness is n o t particularly “psychical” (Baillie sometimes slips i n such notions), it does n o t m e a n self-enclosed “ m i n d . ” L i k e contemporary phenomenologists, H e g e l insists that consciousness includes its “object.” Most generally, i t means having experience; more specifi-

cally (in the first Part o f the Phenomenology), knowing something. Consciousness should n o t be thought of, for Hegel, as “the mental realm” which l e n d s i t s e l f t o quasi-spatial a n d dualistic C a r t e s i a n metaphors.

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

277

Following Kant, Hegel sees consciousness primarily as an activity. Furthermore, consciousness does not refer to a particular person's awareness o r knowing, b u t only knowing i n general; e.g. “ I t is known that

life on earth originated a t least 3.5 billion years ago.” The question that follows is n o t “By whom?” but “Known how?—On what grounds?” Since consciousness ultimately recognizes itself as Spirit, that is, as

everything, “consciousness” is n o t actually opposed t o anything else; i n fact, it is Hegel's whole aim t o show that there is nothing “outside” of or opposed t o consciousness. Ultimately, therefore, it becomes a vacuous term, without employment. However, a t various stages i n the

Phenomenology, consciousness does s e t itself off against something else, its “object,” o r what i t is conscious of. I n the first part o f the Phenomenology, for example, consciousness is opposed t o objects which are “given” t o i t as “immediate.” I n the first half o f the Phenomenology, consciousness (which takes its ‘object’ t o be something other than itself) is contrasted with self-consciousness, which takes itself as its object. But, b y the e n d o f the book, Hegel makes i t clear that consciousness

is n o t actually opposed

to

anything, or, paraphrasing Fichte, there is

nothing i n o r for consciousness that consciousness has not, i n some sense, p u t there itself. DETERMINE, DETERMINATE

(bestimmen, bestimmt): conceptualize/

-d, articulate/articulatable, pickout/identifiable, particularize/particular, specity/specific. “Determine” plays a similar role in Hegel’s epistemology t o Kant’s “constitute,” Fichte’s “posit”; i t means “to give form to.” A determinate object has a form. “Thought-determination” (24,

91, 46) - (Gedankenbestimmung): giving form t o experience through thought. Opposed t o : indeterminate, formless. D E V E L O P / D E V E L O P M E N T (bilden, Bildung): to take form, to grow. T o develop onself (sich bilden) - educate. T h e “root metaphor” o f the

entire PG—growth and education. Hegel several times uses the image of a growing tree or a growing child t o illustrate his model of philosophy, but perhaps the dominant philosophical image is Plato’s metaphor of education, i n which the philosopher leads the uneducated o u t of the shadows and into the light of Truth. DIALECTIC, D I A L E C T I C A L MOVEMENT (Dialektik, dialektische Bewegung): a conversation back and forth: development through various and apparently opposed or contradictory stages. The t e r m occurs surprisingly rarely i n the Phenomenology. Hegel does n o t consider himself a “dialectician,” but rather a “speculative philosopher.” T h e dialectic for h i m is n o t a method t o get at the Truth, b u t rather

i t zs the Truth, that is, the activity of philosophical thinking itself. He-

278

Setting the Stage

gel says throughout the Preface that the Truth is “the whole,” “the process as well as the result.” The dialectic is that process. I n the Logic, dialectic is contrasted with reflection, speculation, and philosophical development, but i n the Phenomenology, these are roughly equivalent. T h e “elements” o f the dialectic are “propositions” (Sätze), a n d there-

fore tied t o concepts and t o language. The dialectic is the process of development o f an adequate conception of the world, by way of pushing a wide variety o f conceptions t o their ultimate conclusions. ESSENCE (Wesen): what a t h i n g really is, the thing-in-itself, its conceptual core. Opposed t o : accident, ill-formed o r undeveloped. T h e concept o f “essence” is n o t well developed i n the Phenomenology: i t is

extensively discussed i n the Logic (where i t is defined as “being-foritself,” “ t h e show o f the Concept”). I n the Phenomenology, a n essence

often refers

to a

fully developed being, a n ideal example.

EXPERIENCE (Erfahrung): consciousness of an object. Not: sensation, “raw experience,” “sense-data,” or intuition. Experience includes its objects (“What a n experience I had last night!”) Experience necessarily involves conceptualization. I t is a general conception, n o t limited t o knowledge (as i n Kant), but one which includes practical, religious, aesthetic, a n d moral experience. H e g e l would agree w i t h Kant

that “all knowledge begins with experience,” but he gives “experience” a broader and less technical interpretation than Kant. For one thing, he includes the process of reflection o n and understanding experience as an essential part of experience, and he also has built into his conception o f experience the notion of a process rather than momentary consciousness o f something. T h e original title o f the Phenomenology w a s The Science o f the Experience o f Consciousness.

EXTERNAL PRINCIPLE: not in the subject itself. For example, doing

philosophy t o make money instead o f being motivated by the intrinsic fascination with the ideas. Opposed t o : I N T E R N A L PRINCIPLE. F L U I D (flüssige): Hexible, n o t rigid o r fixed. A common image Hegel uses to contrast reason w i t h the understanding a n d the Concept w i t h Kant’s fixed categories. What he means is that reflecting o n the concepts one is using, evaluating them, etc., leads to change o f those concepts. I t is the difference, to use the Wittgensteinian metaphor,

between simply playing a game, leaving the rules unquestioned, and examining the game itself, i n which case we might well change the rules. The “game” i n this case is knowledge itself. Opposed t o : fixed, rigid, dogmatic.

FOR ITSELF (fiir sich): reflective, by itself, explicit, self-comprehending, fully developed. These meanings do n o t coalesce, and this

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

is one of the problems with this key

term

279

(and its complement, “ i n

itself” (an sich)). Truth is “for itself” when i t comprehends itself. A

human being is “for oneself” when he or she is independent and selfreflective, but also, withdrawn, c u t off. Opposed t o : “for us,” usually. I t is n o t generally contrasted with “ i n itself,” except when the contrast is potential ( “ i n itself”) versus actual (developed “for itself”).

FOR US (fiir uns): an often used phrase, Hegels way of indicating that the narrator of the text is n o t the consciousness being examined i n the text. I t is also a device Hegel uses t o prevent us from ever

slipping into Kants conception of the thing or the world “ i n itself” T h i n g s a n d the world are always “for us,” that is, i n Kant’s terms,

“phenomenal.” I n the early parts of the Phenomenology, this “for us” keeps us a t a distance from the subject matter: a t the end of the book, the “for us” is identical t o Spirit “ i n and for itself.” Usually opposed t o : F O R ITSELF.

FORMALISM (Formalismus): a reference to Schelling, who started with

an abstract form and applied i t “to whatever happened his way.” Opposed t o :

a n d DEVELOPMENT.

DIALECTIC

F O R M O F CONSCIOUSNESS (Gestalt des Bewusstseins): a self-suthcient a n d independent conceptual framework, a stage i n spiritual development; a chapter i n the Phenomenology. Roughly, a “form o f life,” a

conceptual life-style. N.B. Miller variously translates “Gestalt” as “shapes” a n d “patterns” as well as “forms,” causing some confusion i n the text.

[ G E I S T ] : see S P I R I T I D E A (Idee; Gedanke): the Absolute o f the Logic, which “goes forth as

Nature, Spirit and Logic” I n the Phenomenology the Absolute Truth. B u t Idee is n o t a n essential concept as such i n the Phenomenology, a n d Gedanke is more often translated as “thought” (see T H O U G H T ) . I M M E D I A T E (unmittelbar): intuitive, naive, “ I just know it.” N o t de-

veloped or worked through. Not thought out. Opposed t o : MEDIATED, thought through. I N ITSELF (an sich): potential or “implicit”; considered separately, n o t as an object for us only, unreflective: essentially or intrinsically. Each of these meanings occurs often throughout the Phenomenology. Hegel says that a newborn baby is “ i n itselt”—it is real, certainly, but only potentially human. Kant’s “thing-in-itself” is the thing considered apart from any possible experience we m i g h t have o f i t . Spirit

or consciousness is

at

first “ i n itself” in that i t is unreflective. Often,

H e g e l distinguishes between a form o f consciousness i n itself, o r h o w it sees certain matters, a n d “for us,” o r how we see the same p h e n o m -

280

Setting the Stage

ena. For example, hedonism, ın itself, may think that pleasure is the greatest good, b u t we can see, from o u r superior standpoint, that the

hedonist does n o t primarily seek pleasure but rather something else. Notice that, i n this usage, “in itself” is n o t contrasted with “for itself” b u t r a t h e r i s m o r e o r less e q u i v a l e n t t o i t ; i t i s o n e o f the m o r e misleading clichés i n Hegel pedagogy that “ i n itself” and “for itself” are always contrasting terms (a projection back from Sartre, perhaps, who borrowed these terms from Hegel and did turn them into a fixed opposition). But “ i n itself” and “for itself” are opposed only when the meanings are, respectively, “potential” and “actual.” Sometimes, “ i n itself” means “from a limited perspective,” e.g. “ I n itself, eugenics isn’t a malevolent conception; it becomes that when i n the hands of racist zealots.” Similarly, “ i n itself” means, “ a t its core” o r essentially,

e.g. “ I n itself, it’s a good idea, but the execution is faulty.” A l l of this becomes a problem, however, only i f one insists on construing “in itself” (and “for itself”) as technical terminology. I t is not, but, as i n

English, a perfectly ordinary colloquialism which has its meaning clarithed i n c o n t e x t . The one usage that is technical is the Kantian conception of “things in themselves,” but this usage is mostly limited t o chapters 1-3. I N A N D FOR ITSELF (an und fiir sich): completely developed; the Absolute, God, Spirit actualized. I N D I V I D U A L (einzeln (adj.), Individuum): a single person o r thing.

Opposed t o : C O N C E P T , S P I R I T . I N D I V I D U A L I T Y (Einzelnheit). Opposed t o : spirituality (Geistigkeit) I N T E R N A L P R I N C I P L E : i n biology, the organism’s drive for self-

preservation. I n consciousness and philosophy, the deive for total comprehension as well. Intrinsic motivation, as i n doing an activity for its own sake. See TELEOLOGY. INTUITION (Anschauung): direct or immediate acquaintance through the senses o r through unconceptualized experience. I n Kant, the ele-

of sensibility, conceptualized by the understanding. Hegel does talk about intuition and pure sense experience a t all, except negatively. There is nothing t o be said of a n unconceptualized experiment not

ence, if, indeed, one could call i t a n experience a t all. Opposed to: CONCEPT.

I N T U I T I O N I S M : a philosophical movement (lead i n Hegel's time by F. Jacobi) which believed that one could have absolute knowledge only by direct and unconceptualized experience (on the grounds that concepts distort such experience). I N F I N I T E : self-contained, absolutely, autonomous, organic. Not: u n e n d i n g , e t e r n a l . O p p o s e d t o : finite. I n t h e Logic ( 9 4 , 9 5 ) , “ g e n u i n e

Hegel’s Own View of the Phenomenology

281

infinite” is absolute self-containment; “false infinity” is simply “negative,” a n endless series. A n y l i v i n g thing is “Infinite” i n the sense that

i t is a self-contained system (Phenomenology, chap. 4). Notice that

something “infinite” i n one perspective can be “finite” from another. A l i v i n g t h i n g is “infinite” as living, b u t o f course it is limited a n d

dependent on its surroundings, its species and other living things. Thus the only truly infinite being is the living universe, or absolute

Spirit. K N O W L E D G E (wissen, kenntnis, bekennt): warranted, true compre-

hension. Kant had argued that the object of knowledge could n o t be known t o be the thing-in-itself; moreover, principles of morality and religion, as well as the most general rational principles about the world,

could n o t be known t o be t r u e . This leads Hegel t o accuse Kant of separating knowledge (that is, warranted comprehension) and truth (that 1s, the things-in-themselves), a n d to argue a more comprehensive notion o f k n o w i n g , which includes the reflections o f reason, the

process of coming t o know as well as what one knows, and the principles of morality, the doctrines of religion, and the m o s t general principles about the world (for example, that the universe is necessarily a unity). Opposed t o : mere belief o r ignorance, naive certainty,

inarticulate apprehension. L I F E (Leben): self-contained movement, capable of growth and purposive activity. Sometimes, “infinity,” since both t e r m s mean “self-contained.” (For example, i n Phenomenology, chaps. 4 a n d 5.)

L I V I N G SUBSTANCE (lebendige Substanz, or just das Lebendige): Independent being; a l i v i n g thing; ultimately, Spirit. (Phenome-

nology, chap. 5) LOGIC (Logik): Most generally, the manipulation of concepts. I n Hegel’s terminology, “The system of the Concept,” the “science of the Idea i n and for itself, i n the abstract medium of thought” The Phenomenology was considered by Hegel t o be the introduction t o the Logic, because i t supposedly established the view o f concepts i n t h e i r o w n

realm, prior

to

(and more real than) the objects instantiating them.

For Hegel, however, logic is never wholly separable from the experience determined by these concepts (unlike contemporary formal logic).

MEDIATION (Vermittlung): taking time and trouble, worked over, conceptualized, reflected upon. A “mediated” dispute: talking things over. Sometimes, i t means “over time,” a n d occasionally i t means sim-

ply, “dependent on something else.” Opposed t o : I M M E D I A T E . M O M E N T (moment): an essential but partial aspect, a stage. N o t necessarily temporal. “ A m o m e n t o f the Absolute” one aspect o f reality; ct. “ a blossom is a m o m e n t o f the flowering plant.”

Setting the Stage

282

NECESSARY (notwendige): demonstrable, for “reasons” (Gründen). Opposed t o : accidental, arbitrary, pointless, or for merely personal reasons. “Necessity” Is a teleological notion i n Hegel, and must always be construed as necessary in order to d o something, be something, reach

some goal. NEGATIVE, NEGATIVITY (negativ, negativitit): different from, opposed to, other than. Opposed t o : complete, incorporated. “Subject” as “pure and simple negativity” means other than everything which is its object. (Cf. Kant’s transcendental Ego.) A merely “negative” suggestion is one that does n o t suggest a n alternative; a person is “nega-

tive” i f he or she will n o t cooperate with others. OBJECT (Gegenstand): “standing against,” what a form of consciousness is “about” Opposed t o : CONCEPT, I n the early chapters o f the Phenomenology, S U B J E C T i n later chapters (and ın the Logic). PARTICULAR (einzeln): a definite a n d localizable entity i n space a n d

time. A particular, i n consciousness, is a particular object. A particular, in the later sections of the Phenomenology, is an individual person. Opposed t o : UNIVERSAL. POSITIVITY (posıtivität): i n the Preface, inclusive. Opposed t o : N E G ATIVE.

B u t sometimes i n later chapters i t means “authoritarian.” O p -

posed t o : natural or rational. RATIONAL: necessary, fully developed i n accordance with its internal principle. (“The actual is rational. . . ” ) Having good reasons (within a context); p u r p o s e f u l . Sometimes, reflective, thoughtful, articulate,

capable o f making a case. Opposed t o :

ACCIDENTAL, POINTLESS, UN-

REFLECTIVE.

R E A L (real): existing, a n object o f consciousness. Not the same as ACTUAL.

REALITY (Realitdt): all that exists, that 1s, everything. Not A C T U A L the A B S O L U T E . Exists i n fact rather than merely possible, but n o t necessarily developed, comprehended or comprehensible. REASON (Vernunft): “purposive activity.” Conceptual and reflective thought. Use o f concepts i n selff-understanding. Opposed t o : U N D E R ITY, not

STANDING.

(Der List der Vernunft - “the c u n n i n g o f reason.”) Includes

well as theoretical r e a s o n . T h e ulti“purpose” of reason is t o comprehend total unity, t o break down

p r a c t i c a l , aesthetic, r e l i g i o u s , as mate

false o r limited distinctions, a n d t o resolve conflicts.

REFLECTION (Reflexion): taking consciousness as its own object, thinking about thinking, examining (as opposed t o employing) the understanding. Hegel sometimes distinguishes “reflection” from

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

283

“speculation,” the former as mere partial analysis, the latter as holistic

thinking. SCIENCE (Wissenschaft): i n Aristotle, a science was any system o f t r u e propositions. I t s p a r a d i g m was mathematics. For Fichte, w h o also i n sisted that philosophy m u s t be a science, Science was a system o f propositions each o f which was either a “first principle” o r axiom, o r else a theorem that could be deduced from these. B u t Science need n o t b e quantitative o r strictly deductive (chemistry o r mathematics), Geisteswissenschaften, o r the “humanities,” are a systematized discipline o r

Science t o o . What Science m u s t be is a discipline. Hegel also insists, though this follows from the fact that Science consists o f a system o f

propositions, that the medium o f science be the Concept, that is, i t m u s t be reflective and articulate. This means too that science is necessarily public, n o t , as Hegel says i n the Preface, “the esoteric possession o f a few individuals.” Thus intuitionism is n o t Science because intuitions need n o t (cannot?) be shared. We all share the same concepts, however, for concepts are essentially impersonal. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS (selbstbewusstsein): self-aware. More like selfconfident than simply self-conscious i n o u r sense o f embarrassed, in-

secure. Taking oneself as object. (Phenomenology. chap. 4). Opposed to:

CONSCIOUSNESS

( o f things). Self-consciousness, unlike reason, is

strictly personal and individual self-consciousness. SELF-IDENTITY: identity. Hegel uses this expression when discussing Schelling, then later i n the a c c o u n t o f absolute knowledge. His characterization o f i t i n the Preface as “ A = A ” makes i t look trivial; i n fact, this e x p r e s s i o n is s h o r t h a n d b o r r o w e d from L e i b n i z , v i a F i c h t e

a n d Schelling. “ A = A” i n Leibniz, called “the law o f identity,” refers to

the thesis that all analytically

true

propositions are logically equiv-

alent; they have the same content. Leibniz argued that, i n God’s eyes,

all truths are analytic and necessary, and the expression itself came t o mean, i n effect, that n o distinctions are ultimately real, that identity

with itself is the only ultimate equivalence. (This can be rendered trivial, of course, by simply pointing o u t that nothing can be identical t o anything else, or there would n o t be “anything else.”) What H e g e l means b y this expression, therefore, is that certain

philosophical divisions of reality are n o t t o be taken as ultimate, for example, between consciousness and its objects, between the form and c o n t e n t o f experience, between n a t u r e and freedom, and that, ultimately, self-identity, or the Absolute, is the only reality. As a heuristic principle, i t should be read as: “always remember that distinctions have significance only i n context; we are actually t r y i n g to distinguish

284

Setting the Stage

aspects o f the same thing.” Self-identity is therefore the thesis that reality is necessarily one, a thesis which may seem obvious b u t two

which, nevertheless, Kant failed t o prove i n his philosophy. Self-identity, for Hegel, is the identity o f the whole. H e is n o t concerned (except negatively) with individual self-identity, the problem so popular among British philosophers following Locke and Hume. SPECULATION: I n the Phenomenology, dialectical reason. I n the Logic, “higher” than dialectic, the “total comprehension of the dialectic and the unity of propositions in their opposition.” Seeing all the various forms of consciousness as stages i n self-actualization. Not: wild thinking. Opposed t o : routine everyday experience and “common sense.” SPIRIT (Geist): the subject-writ-large, including the objects it determines for itself. S P I R I T is n o t opposed t o s u B s T A N C E . The subject and subject matter of the Phenomenology, it includes all of us and everyt h i n g i n h u m a n experience. I t is simply, the world, aware o f itself as a self-conscious and comprehensible unity. SUBJECT (Subjekt): that which is other than all possible objects of consciousness (“pure and simple negativity”). The “ I ” of Descartes and Kant. That which is self-aware or can become self-aware. All of Hegel’s researches begin with the subject, from the subjective standpoint, from the Cartesian position that i t is my (our) knowledge and my (our) experience of the world that is under examination i n philosophy.

B u t Hegel denies that the subject is a n individual self, a n d that i t

can be intelligibly distinguished from the objects i t is aware of. Thus subject is substance too, and substance becomes subject, Hegel tells us, when i t s t a r t s t o become aware o f itself. Hegel rejects the idea that

knowledge 1s “subjective” but means by this that the objects of knowledge are n o t merely personal and private but rather shared and “objective,” even if i t is also t r u e that i t makes n o sense t o speak o f such

objects apart from their being, “for us,” objects o f knowledge. SUBSTANCE (Substanz): stuff, what exists in-itself, b y definition, i n -

dependent of anything else. Thus Spinoza insisted there could be but one substance, and Leibniz, while holding that there was a plurality o f substances, refused t o allow them t o have anything t o do with each other. Substance is n o t distinguished from subject, in Continental philosophy. For Descartes, the subject was a (thinking) substance; for Spinoza, substance includes subject, a n d for Leibniz, substances are

subjects (monads). For Hegel, Spirit is both subject and substance. SYSTEM: the ideal o f a philosophical system was a pervasive demand among the post-Kantian philosophers. The Kantian Reinhold

285

Hegel’s Own View of the Phenomenology

had begun with a “systematization” of Kant’s philosophy: Fichte also considered his philosophy t o be a “systematization” or “completion” o f K a n t . A system meant a deductive system, a set o f first principles

from which various theorems could be deduced. But the term applies t o any comprehensive and coherent set o f propositions whose interconnections are demonstrated. TELEOLOGY, PURPOSIVENESS (Zwecklichkeit): development according t o an “internal principle.” A biological metaphor: an organism’s “internal purpose” is t o keep o n living. T h e “internal purpose”

of consciousness (and philosophy) is total comprehension. Aristotle is mentioned b y name as the author o f the philosophical vision o f the

teleological universe, striving t o develop its own self-awareness. The transitions i n the Phenomenology are all teleologically necessary, that is, aimed a t the purpose (Zweck) of attaining such absolute comprehension. T H O U G H T (Gedanke): conceptualized experience, b u t not the thought o r the experience o f any particular person. ( “ I just had the thought

that . . . 7) Cf. Frege's similar notion: the thought stands behind all of the particular u t t e r a n c e s of a s e n t e n c e and its synonyms, giving them meaning. I n Hegel, a t h o u g h t is a form o f experience. Pure thoughts,

abstracted from experience, are the subject m a t t e r o f the Logic. Thoughts as experienced are the subject m a t t e r o f the Phenomenology. “Thought-determinations” = giving form t o experience through thought, e.g., i n Kant’s terms, “constituting” experience.

T R U T H (das Wahre; die Wahrheit): “ t h e way the world is,” b u t for H e -

gel, the “way the world is” c a n n o t be other than the way i t is “for us.” T h e Phenomenology is essentially a theory o f t r u t h , that is, a theory

about truth (“the truth about Truth”). Hegel is n o t particularly concerned w i t h truths (“When it rains i t pours”), b u t rather w i t h the nature

o f Truth (“What is truth?”). His emphasis on the need

to

know

the details o f experience does n o t entail that, to have Absolute Truth,

the philosopher need i n fact know every particular truth (the number of rabbits i n Australia, etc.). Truth for Hegel, is n o t just the object of science a n d knowledge, b u t the goal o f every h u m a n endeavor; i n fact, t r u t h means “goal.” T h e t r u t h o f a r t is beauty, the t r u t h o f ethics is r i g h t action, the t r u t h o f religion is God. Truth, l i k e experience a n d

the Concept, evolves and thus, without paradox, includes the errors we make too, as part o f the l e a r n i n g process. U N C E R T A I N T Y (Ungewissheit): scepticism, questioning, insecurity.

Opposed

t o : CERTAINTY.

U N C O N D I T I O N E D (unbedingt): infinite, self-contained, complete i n

286

Setting the Stage

itself, “no longer compelled t o go beyond itself.” Context-free, n o t dependent on particular experiences, circumstances; not derived from the senses. Unlimited. Opposed t o : CONDITIONED. UNDERSTANDING (Verstehen): i n Kant, the application o f the concepts t o sensations t o yield experience. Unreflective knowledge o f the world. Opposed to:

REASON,

b u t also to mere (common sense) cer-

tainty; experience without conceptualization (Phenomenology chaps. 1— 3.) A fixed set of concepts; sometimes, mechanical thinking, the applcation of quantitative principles (as i n Newton’s physics). UNIVERSAL (Allgemein): non-particular, without specific location i n space and time, and logically accessible t o everyone. Concepts and numbers are universals, n o t i n space and time, sharable by anyone. Properties, according to Hegel, are “conditioned universals,” while Kant’s categories (e.g. “substance”) are “unconditioned universals” (the

difference between “perception” and “understanding,” respectively). The color red is a universal because i t may be instantiated by any number of particular objects; the concept “dog” is a universal because it can be instantiated by any number o f dogs. And SPIRIT is universal because it includes all possible particulars, including all human beings. Opposed t o : PARTICULAR. WHOLE (Ganze): everything, concrete, the totality of experience and its objects. “ T h e t r u t h is the whole. T h e whole, however, is merely the

essential n a t u r e reaching its completeness through the process of its o w n development” (Phenomenology, 20). Refers to a whole process ( o f development) as well as a whole set ( o f propositions, etc.). T h e whole must

be distinguished from the plurality o f particulars within it. (Cf.

Heidegger's “ w o r l d h o o d o f the world.”) O n e can k n o w the whole (that

is, the absolute Truth of Hegel's Phenomenology) without knowing every particular within it, and one can know all the details of something (e.g. all the parts of the machine or a living organism) without having a conception of the whole a t all. The whole is a comprehensible as well as comprehensive unity, a structure as well as a totality.

I hope that this admittedly inadequate glossary will help take the sting o u t of Hegel's terminology for m o s t readers, but the point t o be made again a n d again is that Hegel’s insistence that concepts are con-

text-dependent makes a straightforward “definition” of these terms impossible, except b y reference to other terms just as obscure. Notice,

for instance, that an object might be said t o be “immediate” i n one context but “mediated” i n another, just as ( I will argue) an object might b e said to be “observable” i n one scientific context b u t “hypothetical”

Hegel's Own View of the Phenomenology

287

i n another, o r as a b i t o f behavior m i g h t seem wholly “ n a t u r a l ” i n one

social setting but be considered entirely “artificial” i n another (e.g. formal courtesies a t a dinner party and an intimate drink with a friend by the fireplace, respectively). A phenomenon might be said t o be “Infinite” i n one perspective and, a little later, “finite” i n another; o r

universal i n one context, but particular i n another; or unconditional i n one form o f life, conditional i n another. B u t this w i l l b e upsetting

only i f one takes Hegel t o be providing some sort o f formal system, which he emphatically is n o t . Indeed, the whole point of the Phenomenology is t o show that there can be no such system—that contextualism and the flexibility of our ways of conceiving the world are the ultimate rules o f h u m a n experience. B u t i t would be a mistake t o treat Hegel’s often painful terminology as too profound; like Kant, who really d i d try to b e rigorous, H e g e l sometimes seems simply incapable

of writing philosophy with even the m o s t minimal terminological consistency that we would expect o f any undergraduate. T h e mask o f “science” is a sham; i n the ultimate analysis, we should r a t h e r con-

clude that what appears a t times t o be profound is wholly unnecessary and tolerable (in both Hegel and Kant) only because the genius of the over-all performance makes forbearance worth our while.

Thispage intentionally left blank

Part I I Hitching the Highway o f Despair—An Analysis o f the Phenomenology

Thispage intentionally left blank

Chapter Sıx

Against Method (The “Introduction” t o the Phenomenology)

The need t o begin with the subject itself, without preliminary observations, is felt nowhere more strongly than i n the science of logic . . . n o t o n l y t h e scheme o f p h i l o s o p h i c m e t h o d , b u t also t h e very c o n c e p t

of philosophy in general belongs t o the content of logic . . . what Logic i s c a n n o t b e set o u t b e f o r e h a n d . —Science o f Logic

The proper introduction t o the Phenomenology 1s its Introduction. Unlike the horrendous Preface, i t states clearly and without apology or arrogance what is t o come, what problems we face, a n d how they are t o be overcome. B u t as we have anticipated, what the Introduction introduces is n o t exactly t h e Phenomenology as we k n o w it, b u t r a t h e r

the book that Hegel intended t o write, a shorter book about logic and metaphysics, i n the post-Kantian “phenomenological” mode. The Phenomenology was t o be the introduction t o the discussion o f logic and metaphysics, and this means that the original text—what the Introduction introduces, was a m u c h m o r e l i m i t e d book, concerned only

with questions o f knowledge and more or less devoid o f the more historical and more “practical” concerns o f chapters 4—7, some o f which were t o appear i n another volume o f the “system.” A n d so, what the

Introduction introduces is only the first three chapters o f the present text, perhaps a small part o f chapter 4, the first half o f chapter 5 o n “Reason” and, o f course, chapter 8 o n “Absolute Knowing.” T h e I n t r o d u c t i o n is concerned with a single, distinctive, a n d famil-

iar problem—the tendency o f modern philosophy, beginning with Descartes and Locke i n particular, t o end u p i n scepticism, which Hegel considered a n u t t e r l y a b s u r d position.! E v e n K a n t , who had p r o 1. A g a i n , we must distinguish scepticism i n its m o d e r n epistemological f o r m , f r o m

Skepticism i n its ancient version, which does play a key role i n the PG, chapter 4B.

291

292

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

vided the basis for the refutation of scepticism, denied that we could know “ t h e things i n themselves,” o r what Hegel calls “ t h e Absolute.” Hegel considers the idea that we m i g h t n o t (or cannot) k n o w the Absolute so absurd that h e considers i t beyond refutation; what is required instead is diagnosis, so that we can see how philosophers have

gone wrong and c o r r e c t them, thus dismissing this all but unintelligible position before we even begin. The irony is that the slippery slide t o scepticism began with philosophers who demanded precisely the opposite; Descartes insisted from the first of his Meditations that he should have t o prove beyond a doubt those beliefs worth believing. He was so cautious about making mistakes, about the possibility o f accepting as t r u e some proposition unproven, that he even began as a m a t t e r o f method by doubting every belief, assuming i t false until he could prove it t r u e . John Locke t o o , disgusted with the lack o f progress and the absence of evidence i n traditional metaphysics, began with a method to protect h i m from e r r o r ; h e insisted that every idea that deserved t o be called “know-

ledge”would have

to

be supported by the evidence o f his senses, by

an appeal t o experience which could n o t be disputed. B u t both Descartes

and Locke ended u p i n sceptical quandaries, which their fol-

lowers soon established even i f they would n o t have recognized this themselves. T h e reason for their ironic fate was precisely, i n each case,

the method that they invented t o protect them from error. The result o f their methods was the m o s t erroneous suggestion—that we might not, I n fact, k n o w a n y t h i n g a t all.

This sceptical conclusion as such, perhaps, did n o t fully emerge i n the modern tradition u n t i l David H u m e stated i t i n his Treatise on Hum a n Nature, a n d a g a i n i n h i s Enquiry Concerning H u m a n Understand-

ing.? Hume made i t very clear that something had gone seriously wrong—in the empiricist tradition o f John Locke, in particular—but i n the whole epistemological tradition beginning with Descartes, more generally. And yet, Hume himself wholly accepted that tradition, and i t was within that tradition that he derived the conclusions that threatened t o reduce i t t o u t t e r n o n s e n s e ,

Kant was properly horrified by what Hume had done, “awakened from his dogmatic slumbers.” And Kant too undertook the project of saving the truth of our m o s t fundamental beliefs by developing a new method which could be used t o prove them. I n other words, he too 2.

B u t see

Richard Popkin’s g e n e a l o g y

o f the general epistemological t h e m e

i n his

History of Skepticism from Erasmus to Descartes ( N e w York: Humanities Press, 1964). H u m e w a s a sceptical late-comer i n a l o n g philosophical t r a d i t i o n .

Against Method

293

stayed w i t h i n that tradition, which we can describe as the Cartesian-

empiricist tradition o f trying t o prove the truth of what we believe— or establish the “foundations of knowledge”—by developing a method, a s e t of principles and procedures antecedent to knowledge itself. Needless t o say, the principles of method could n o t presuppose the beliefs that were to be established as knowledge, for this w o u l d b e

viciously circular. But this too severely limited the field of beliefs that one could begin by believing, and, n o t surprisingly, m o s t philosophers presupposed precisely the principles they were trying t o prove. Descartes claimed t o suspend his belief i n mathematics, b u t h e used the whole system o f deductive rules o f inference, o n the model o f

Euclidean geometry, i n staging his proofs. H e doubted God's exist e n c e but nevertheless invoked H i m when necessary. Both Locke and Kant insisted that we could n o t experience “the things themselves” but nevertheless insisted that experience would be incomprehensible without them, and m o s t dramatically of all, Hume rested the whole o f his sceptical argument o n the impossibility o f o u r knowing the ne-

cessity o f cause and effect relationships, which he proved by presupposing the cause a n d effect relations o f a “physiological” model

of mind. With this i n mind, we can appreciate Hegel's suspicion that the problem was t o be found n o t i n the subtlety of scepticism but rather i n the very idea o f a method which would be antecedent t o and independent of the knowledge i t sought t o establish. H e says, “perhaps the fear o f falling i n t o error is itself the error,” a n d suggests that,

instead o f starting with a method, we simply dive into the subjectmatter. (Again, this is why the Preface is n o t only unnecessary but a n actual obstacle to u n d e r s t a n d i n g the book; i t looks as i f i t is a p r e l i m -

inary treatise on method, which is precisely what it c a n n o t be.) The analogy h e uses is the idea o f learning t o swim before one gets i n the water. T h e idea is absurd. O n e cannot d o i t , b u t even if one d i d prac-

tice some strokes before getting i n over one’s head, there would

still

be the same problem o f matching u p what one has learned i n the

abstract with the c o n c r e t e problem o f swimming. One learns t o swim by swimming, and that includes making mistakes, finding one’s way, learning by doing. A n d so too, Hegel suggests, one learns what

knowledge is, n o t by developing a method with which t o prove it, but by assuming, from the outset, that we do know something—quite a lot, i n fact—that we are i n contact w i t h the Absolute, the things o f the world, and d o not need a method to prove this. Indeed, it is the search for a m e t h o d to move from o u r experience to the Absolute that has

294

Hitching the Highway of Despair

made i t appear, i n these great philosophers o f the r e c e n t past, as i f i t is possible that we are n o t i n immediate contact w i t h the Absolute,

and therefore might n o t know the Absolute a t all. T h e second i r o n y here is that Hegel, w r i t i n g i n a tradition that scorns a n d i n any case is usually unintelligible t o “common sense,’ begins w i t h a defense o f the common-sense position—that scepticism is absurd, that knowledge ( i n general) needs n o defense, a n d that i f a

philosophy ends u p in scepticism, so much for that philosophy. Hegel is here a r g u i n g against such philosophers as Locke a n d H u m e , w h o were self-declared defenders o f “common sense,” as their court o f

ultimate a p p e a®l But against them, Hegel is trying t o get rid o f what is usually called “method” in philosophy, the very idea that one should begin with a s e t of rules and cautionary principles before one enters into the subject-matter itself. Hegel is thus attacking not just a particular philosophical method, n o t just methods that end u p with certain results, and not just the way that certain philosophers have construed the quest for a n adequate theory o f knowledge. H e is attacking the quest for a n adequate theory o f knowledge. H e is attacking the very idea o f a “theory o f knowledge,” o r what most philosophers today call

epistemology. According t o Hegel, the very idea o f a “theory” that precedes the knowledge itself is a manifest absurdity. The problem that Hegel uses t o define the project o f the Phenomenology has t w o tacets; one is the general rejection of “method” i n philosophy and the insistence that we jump into our subject-matter and n o t d i d d l e a r o u n d w i t h preliminaries. (For that reason, the I n t r o d u c -

tion is mercifully short, only a dozen pages.) The second is more specific, and 1s concerned with a substantial set of philosophical presuppositions which have formed the heart of modern philosophy and with which the problem of scepticism can be specifically identified. Quite contrary t o its insistence that philosophy begin without assuming any particular metaphysical thesis, epistemology begins with a metaphysical picture of ourselves and our relationship t o the world w h i c h is n o w so familiar t h a t i t has become virtually self-evident to 3. Hegel cites Locke explicitly i n this regard i n his “Faith and Knowledge” (1802). 4. O f course, epistemology can be construed m u c h more broadly than this narrow characterization, a n d t h e e v e n m o r e specific c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n t o follow. Epistemology c a n b e c o n s t r u e d as t h e over-all c o n c e r n for t h e b o u n d s a n d i n n e r r e l a t i o n s a n d n a t u r e

o f knowledge without in any way raising this problem o f the possibility o f knowledge, which is what Hegel is challenging. I n this broader perspective n o t only Hegel but Plato and almost every other philosopher becomes a n “epistemologist” t o o . What is specifically rejected here is that version o f method which has become so r a m p a n t not only i n

traditional empiricism but even more so i n latter-day “phenomenology” (in Edmund Husserl i n particular) and i n some o f the “analytic” o r “linguistic” methods o f the logic a l positivists a n d “ o r d i n a r y l a n g u a g e ” p h i l o s o p h e r s m o r e recently.

Agatnst Method

295

us; it is the idea that we come t o know the world through our individual experiences, through “representations” o r copies or impressions and ideas of reality rather than through immediate c o n t a c t with the things themselves—the Absolute.

Knowledge and the “Things-in-Themselves” I t is a natural assumption that i n philosophy, before we start

to

deal

with its p r o p e r subject-matter, viz. the actual cognition [Erkenntnis]

o f what truly is, one m u s t first o f all come t o an understanding about cognition, which is regarded either as the instrument t o get hold o f the Absolute, o r as the medium through which one discovers it. —Phenomenology

Hegel's attack o n traditional epistemology from Descartes t o K a n t be-

gins with an attack on t w o metaphors. Both metaphors begin with the assumption that consciousness (experience, knowledge, cognition) is one thing; reality—the Absolute—is something else. The epistemological question, then, is how consciousness ever reaches o u t beyond

itself t o the Absolute, t o know the things themselves. The question begins, presumably, from a seemingly quite self-evident everyday truth—that o u r experience is “inside o f us,” I n consciousness, b u t the t h i n g we experience, the t h i n g itself, is outside o f us, i n t h e world. B u t from this innocent starting point, t w o insidious metaphors enter to explain the relation between them; the first is a n active metaphor— that consciousness ( o r knowledge) 1s a n “ i n s t r u m e n t ” for getting h o l d o f the things themselves. T h e second is a more passive metaphor, that consciousness ( o r knowledge) is a medium,” perhaps a mirror, for example, through which we can “see” the Absolute.” From the t w o

metaphors emerges the intolerable conclusion, that we do n o t know the things themselves, since they are inevitably distorted by the instrument o r the m e d i u m through which we come t o know them.

Now i f Hegel were simply arguing against his predecessors by analogy, arguing as if they held such a picture a t the bottom of their epistemologies, his argument would n o t go any further than the demand that the epistemologists say with more literal clarity what i t is that they 5 . F o r a r e c e n t analysis a n d t h o r o u g h - g o i n g criticism o f this t r a d i t i o n a l metaphor, much i n the spirit o f Hegel's own critique i n the PG, see Richard Rorty, Philosophy and

the Mirror of Nature (Princeton: Princeton U n i v . Press, 1980).

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

296

mean. B u t this is n o t what h e is doing. These metaphors, h e claims,

are part of the traditional epistemological enterprise as such, whether or n o t they are recognized as metaphors by the philosophers who have used them and treated them as literal scientific theories. A n d they are necessitated b y the original more o r less common-sense move,

the distinction between consciousness and its objects, which itself, it is a metaphor t o o , and an extremely destructive one.

t u r n s out,

T h e very idea that “there is a boundary that separates cognition

and the Absolute” (73) presupposes the invention—not the “discovery’—of the mind.® What seems to us n o m o r e than a n obvious ob-

servation—namely, that each of us has a mind or consciousness with various sensations, ideas a n d experiences in i t , l i k e marbles i n a t i n

can—is i n fact an insidious distortion o f the n a t u r e of experience, which is n o t a self-enclosed realm o f its own with some problematic reference t o things outside o f itself; i t is the awareness-of-things. This point, anticipated by Kant i n his notion of “phenomenon,” becomes i n this century the central notion o f “intentionality” o f Husserl and other “phenomenologists.” I n its usual formulation, this means that

there

cannot

be consciousness without objects, nor can there be ob-

jects without their being the objects for a consciousness. B u t the on-

tological s t a t u s of those objects—that is, whether they exist “ i n themselves” o r not—is left unclear, i n both K a n t a n d Husserl. I t is this

spatial metaphor, the mind as a mysterious realm ın which there are experiences and beyond which are physical objects “in themselves” which gives rise to scepticism. For once one accepts the idea o f a “ b o u n d a r y ” between the “inside” a n d the “outside,” then crossing that boundary,

while remaining always on the “inside,” becomes impossible. T h e distinction between cognition (knowledge) a n d the Absolute (things-in-themselves) gives rise to a certain theory o f truth—the

“correspondence” theory of truth, according

to

which o u r experi-

ences “correspond,” i t is hoped, t o the things themselves. One m u s t say “ i t is hoped” because the problem for the theory is that one can n e v e r check t o see whether i n fact o u r experiences do correspond,

since all we ever know “immediately” are o u r o w n experiences. T h e rest w e k n o w b y inference, o r o n faith—because w e believe that o u r

experiences are caused by the objects themselves or because, as in Descartes, we believe that G o d i n H i s Goodness w o u l d n o t allow us to

be fooled. But effects do

not

always resemble their causes, and there

is n o assurance whatever that the representations i n o u r consciousness are indeed copies o r resemblances o f the things that caused them. 6 . See Walter K a u f m a n n , The Discovery of the M i n d ( N e w York; McGraw-Hill, 1980),

vol. 1, part iii, o n Hegel.

Against Method

297

Indeed, they might be entirely different, which is why Kant insisted that the thing-in-itself m u s t remain always an u n k n o w n t o us, the

“unknown x ” which causes our experience but can never be known itself through experience. Moreover, there may n o t even be a thingin-itself, for i t 1s always possible that our experiences are caused i n us

by objects but by God, as both Leibniz and Bishop Berkeley suggested, or even by an Evil Genius, as Descartes unhappily proposed. And as for the suggestion that God i n His Goodness will n o t allow us

not

to b e fooled, t h a t m a y b e permissible as theology b u t i t is surely a last

gasp effort as epistemology. What we w a n t t o know is, how can we know, i n general and i n any particular case, whether our experience is “true” or n o t . A n d that means: whether or n o t i t “corresponds” t o reality, the things-in-themselves. I t was Kant, again, who radically revised this traditional picture, even while staying w i t h i n t h e tradition. H e left standing the empiricist idea that o u r experience is partially caused b y objects affecting us; this passive aspect o f o u r experience was what h e called “ t h e m a n i f o l d o f i n t u i t i o n ” , the barrage o f sensations which are the r a w material o f

experience. But he added that our experience is also constituted (not just understood) by the faculty o f understanding, and so what we know are not just the sensations caused i n us o r the objects i n themselves (which we can never know), b u t r a t h e r the objects as we constitute t h e m for ourselves, t h r o u g h the concepts o f the understanding. T h i s means, as H e g e l restates i t i n the Phenomenology, that we d o not k n o w the objects i n themselves, b u t we d o k n o w objects as they are

constituted i n themselves for us. That is, we create objects o f knowledge that seem t o be “outside” o f us, but they are not; they are only created t o seem that way. The real objects, “in themselves,” are still indeed outside o f us, o u t o f reach, k n o w n “immediately” o n l y to G o d

(through “intellectual intuition”). W h a t K a n t h a d done, according to Hegel, was to confuse the

boundaries considerably,—and t o add a powerful new active element (“constitution”) t o our concept of the relationship of the mind t o its objects. Hegel thoroughly accepts the latter, and for this he acknowledges Kant “the point o f departure of modern philosophy.”’ But for the former he has nothing but abuse, and much o f the Introduction t o the Phenomenology 1s concerned with finishing the job that Fichte and Schelling had already undertaken—to purge the Kantian philosophy o f the “thing-in-itself” altogether, or rather, t o show that the things o f experience (phenomena) and the things-in-themselves 7.

Science of Logic,

vol. 1, 44.

298

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

(noumena) were one and the same. B y destroying the concept o f objects “outside” o f experience, Hegel would destroy the idea of the “inside” o f experience as well. A n d h e would get rid o f the idea that

we might n o t know the things-in-themselves—the Absolute. I t is with Kant and the epistemological tradition in mind that we should read through the Introduction. The t w o metaphors—the instrument and the medium—are now easily recognizable as the t w o faculties o f knowledge for Kant—the activities of the understanding (the instrument) and the passive reception o f sensibility, “the manifold o f intuition” (the medium). The same t w o metaphors apply t o virtually every other philosopher o f the tradition too, w i t h the em-

phasis i n m o s t on the passive “medium” imagery (Locke’s “blank tablet” view o f the mind, for example) rather than the more active Kantian image o f the “instrument” o f the understanding, which constitutes

rather than simply recognizes the objects o f experience. Kant’s own

way of presenting these c o v e r t metaphors was t o refer t o the objects we know as “phenomena” —that is, conditioned by the forms o f sensibility a n d the concepts o f our understanding, as opposed t o the un-

conditioned objects in-themselves, which could be known only by God. Here is where Hegel begins his argument; i f what we know is “conditioned” by the properties o f the medium and the manipulations of the instrument, what right do we have t o say that we know these things a t all. A t m o s t , w e k n o w t h e m for us; b u t t h e n , w e d o n o t k n o w t h e m

i n themselves; we d o n o t know the t r u t h , and therefore, we d o n o t

know anything a t all. Hegel's argument here is directed, again i n alliance with common sense, against a certain k i n d o f Kantian double talk. T h e commonsense position is that only knowing the things themselves counts as the truth; “ t h e Absolute alone is true, o r the truth alone is absolute”

(75). The Kantian double talk is the suggestion that there is another sense o f truth “true for us” even i f this “truth” does n o t correspond to

the things themselves; There is a type o f cognition which, though i t does n o t cognize the Absolute as Science aims to, is still t r u e , a n d that cognition in general

[knowledge o f phenomena] though i t be incapable o f grasping the Absolute, is still capable o f grasping other kinds o f truth. B u t we gradually come t o see that this kind o f talk which goes back and forth [between knowing mere phenomena and knowing things as t h e y really a r e ] o n l y l e a d s t o a h a z y distinction b e t w e e n a n a b s o l u t e

truth a n d some o t h e r k i n d o f truth, a n d that words like “absolute,” “ c o g n i t i o n , ” e t c . p r e s u p p o s e a m e a n i n g w h i c h h a s y e t t o b e ascert a i n e d . (Phenomenology, 7 5 )

Against Method

299

Either we know the truth (the things-in-themselves) o r we d o not.

Either knowledge needs no defense from philosophy or scepticism has already won the game. Kant confuses the issues. Either the “phenomena” are the things themselves—the way things really are—or they a r e not. T h e idea that we k n o w things only as “conditioned” b y o u r minds

is an easy point

to

make i n philosophy; consider the way the world

looks when o u r senses are altered even slightly, w i t h colored glasses

or a drug that renders us hypersensitive. Consider the difference bet w e e n the vision o f bees (who see ultraviolet light) and the vision o f dogs (who do n o t see colors a t all). Consider the difference between the way a primitive animist sees the world (full o f living things, i n cluding living weather, living rocks, living water) and the way a hardheaded materialist sees the world (as matter i n motion, as particles o r

electromagnetic forces in space). How could one possibly deny that o u r experience is conditioned b y the medium (the senses) through which we receive o u r sensations?—and b y the concepts w i t h which we

render our experience intelligible? The problem, i f course, is that this image of “conditioning” carries with i t the inference that what we see is inevitably distorted, a n d even i f i t is n o t distorted, we would have n o way o f telling whether i t is o r not.

Are red things “really” red? A long line o f philosophical theories

have said that they are not, that the “ r e d ” is i n us—the effect o f prop-

erties i n the thing itself, t o be sure, but those properties are n o t themselves red. So argued John Locke, and i t was n o t difhicult for Bishop Berkeley t o use the same arguments t o show that there were no prop-

erties t o be predicated o f the material thing itself; all properties were “ i n us,” as ideas. B u t i f one can argue that red things m a y n o t be red,

could they be some other color? Are certain materials that seem colorless t o u s , b u t c a n b e s e e n b y bees a n d butterflies, “ r e a l l y ” t h a t o t h e r

color? I f the sunlight systematically makes things appear a few shades further along the spectrum, does that m e a n that (even if we could n o t know this) things are “really” some other color? A n d if, as K a n t suggested, space a n d t i m e are a priori forms for us, b u t n o t true o f the

universe “ i n itself,” could i t be that space and time might be, for some other creature o r “ i n themselves,” very different from o u r o w n expe-

rience, with very different properties? Once one begins these speculations, i t is difficult

to

end them. Once

one begins to wonder what t h e properties o f the w o r l d m i g h t b e apart

from our experience o f them, apart from our peculiar ways o f conceiving o f them, there is no natural stopping point. (Hegel’s ultimate

300

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

argument against this is the “inverted world” section o f chapter 3, in which h e whimsically suggests that perhaps the world-in-itself is at every t u r n the exact opposite o f the way i t is for us.) Once one supposes that the world is “conditioned” for us, there seems t o be n o way o u t o f the sceptical slide that we have started. Unless, that is, one gives

u p the basic premise, the “correspondence” view o f truth, the idea that things-in-themselves are something “outside” o f consciousness and that the things of our experience are “conditioned.” One need n o t deny the common-sense observation that our experience changes dramatically with the slightest change i n our senses, o r that the world would look very different t o us i f our beliefs (concepts) were radically altered. What has to b e denied is t h a t o u r senses

and o u r concepts are means t o know the world (a medium and an instrument) r a t h e r t h a n themselves part and parcel o f the world we

know.® We do n o t begin with the data o f consciousness and infer the existence and the n a t u r e o f objects “outside” o f us; we begin by being i n the world a n d only later, d u r i n g moments o f reflection, begin to

raise questions about the n a t u r e o f objects and the role o f consciousness and the world. This is why, inevitably, the empiricists ended u p treating as an indisputable part of their method scientific findings and theories about physiology and the senses which were n o t even k n o w n a few years before. B u t i f they were willing t o take for granted the existence o f the sense organs as well as the very complex and

often controversial cause and effect relations between them and our sensations, why n o t just begin by admitting that we do know the world, i n general? There is no problem o f knowledge i n general; there is no sense t o be made o f scepticism—since i n order t o raise our doubts

about knowledge we have

to

already presuppose substantial knowl-

edge about the world and, m o r e dubiously, about the existence a n d

autonomous nature of our own consciousness. There is no question about the correspondence of our experience

to

t h e w o r l d , i n general. I n p a r t i c u l a r cases, o f c o u r s e , w e c a n c o m e t o

question the validity o f an experience—a hallucination or a mirage, for example—but we do so only by comparing that experience with the rest o f o u r experience, a n d seeing that i t does n o t fit—except as a

hallucination o r a mirage. I n general, we experience the world, n o t as a causal connection o r correspondence between t w o things—con-

sciousness and the things-themselves—but as a simple identity—the 8 . C f . N i e t z s c h e , Beyond G o o d a n d E v i l - “ W h a t ? A n d others even say t h a t the exter-

nal world is the work o f o u r organs? B u t then, o u r body, as a part o f this external world, would be the work o f our organs! But then our organs themselves would be—the work o f o u r o r g a n s ! I t s e e m s t o m e that this i s a complete reductio a d absurdum. Prejudices of Philosophers,” 15).

. . ” (“On the

Against Method

world-as-experienced. But

to

say, “the world-as-experienced” need

301 not

suggest the specter o f some o t h e r world, some world-in-itself apart

from and forever “outside” o f experience. N o r need the idea ever arise—except i n a paranoid fantasy or a philosophical seminar—that o u r experience has been “conditioned” such that we d o n o t know the world as i t is i n fact at all. We k n o w the world as i t is i n itself, which is

say that i t could n o t be known i n some other way, and differently. This 1s what Hegel means when he says that we know the Absolute. What remains i n the r e s t o f the book is for us t o expand our repertoire o f perspectives, t o see the world i n different ways—so that

not to

we can ideally reach that all-encompassing viewpoint where we can also say that we k n o w the Absolute absolutely. I n fact, I w o u l d argue, this ideal is never reached; there is n o absolute viewpoint which en-

compasses all of the others. There are just indefinitely many more viewpoints. B u t what Hegel does succeed i n showing us i n the I n t r o -

duction, before the journey even begins, is that knowledge, i f i t is anything a t all, is knowledge o f things-in-themselves, knowledge o f the Absolute. As for that “fear o f error” that we discussed i n the beginning o f the chapter, which leads t o the demand for a method t o protect against mistakes, Hegel says that this 1s itself a mistake; “should we n o t be concerned as to whether this fear o f error is n o t just the error it-

self?”(73) and “should we n o t t u r n around and mistrust this very mistrust?” (74). Indeed, i t is i n the s t a t e m e n t o f method, which supposedly precedes any claims whatever about the n a t u r e of the world— the Absolute, that one begins by presupposing “that the Absolute stands o n one side and cognition o n the other” This “ i n fact takes a great deal for granted” which, on examination, proves t o be m o s t doubtful—“certain ideas about cognition as an instrument and as a medium” (74). (Note that a t this point Hegel abruptly shifts the metaphor, t o “a difference between ourselves and this cognition.” This introduces a second “boundary” and a third element t o the ontology Hegel is attacking—the pure self o r ego versus the apparatus o f knowledge as

i n Kant’s distinction between the transcendental ego and the empirical c o n t e n t o f its knowledge.) The upshot is Hegel's accusation that i t is the fear o f error itself that leads t o the disastrous distinctions that render scepticism unavoidable and makes necessary the Kantian double talk that our knowledge of the phenomenal world, though “excluded from the Absolute” and “surely outside the truth as well, is nevertheless true, a n assumption whereby what calls itself fear o f e r r o r reveals itself rather as fear o f the truth.’(74) A n d here again, we find Hegel

urges us o n t o the t e x t proper, for one learns only by doing. I t is by

302

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

making mistakes in philosophy that one learns how

to

do philosophy,

n o t b y first learning a method (or learning that there is n o method.)

I n the Preface, Hegel argued somewhat confusingly that “the truth includes what is false,” (38). We can n o w add, a b i t m o r e clearly, that the search for t r u t h cannot proceed through a “fear o f e r r o r ” b u t

only by taking a position (almost any will d o ) , by making mistakes and then, i n our bumbling way, moving on t o make more of them. Whether o r n o t this ever leads us to the absolute Truth, this m u c h is sure: we will never get there b y hanging around i n the Preface o r b y t r y i n g to get o u r m e t h o d together before l o o k i n g for the Truth. I n a sense, to begin is to already b e “ i n the Truth”, that is, i n the w o r l d o f certain knowledge. A n d what is undubitable, Descartes to the contrary, is the fact that, i n searching for the t r u t h , one must already have it

and assume that one has it. Which raises the question,—why need one search at all? O r why d i d Hegel, having written the Introduction,

need t o write the r e s t o f the book?

From Knowing the Absolute to Absolute Knowing S c i e n c e , i n c o m i n g o n t h e scene, i s i t s e l f a n a p p e a r a n c e ; i n c o m i n g

o n the scene i t is n o t yet Science i n its developed and unfolded t r u t h . . . . N a t u r a l c o n s c i o u s n e s s w i l l show i t s e l f t o b e o n l y t h e c o n -

cept o f knowledge, o r in other words, n o t real knowledge. (Phenom-

enology)

Once we have given u p the “useless ideas” about knowledge as an “instrument” o r a “ m e d i u m ” which are means t o “get a hold o f the absolute,” we find ourselves standing face-to-face, so to speak, w i t h

the world-in-itself. This may be a dazzling idea for those o f us who have suffered through the rigors o f epistemology since Descartes, but it is j u s t h u m d r u m c o m m o n sense i n everyday life. B u t t o say that o n e

is face-to-face with the world-in-itself is n o t

at

all t o conclude that one

k n o w s all t h a t m u c h about i t , t h a t o n e h a s t h o u g h t a b o u t t h e n a t u r e

o f the w o r l d o r come t o any adequate comprehension o f i t o r o f o u r

knowing it. I n fact, common-sensical everyday consciousness “takes itself to be real knowledge” just because i t is naively certain, without

questioning the

matter a t

all, that i t knows the world-in-itself. Hegel

9. Paul Ziff used t o begin his aesthetics seminars a t the University o f Pennsylvania with a discussion o f “the Blue Spot Theory,” i.e. a painting is good i f i t has a patch o f blue i n i t . B y learning t o attack obvious nonsense, the students soon learned to see t h r o u g h n o t so obvious nonsense as well.

Against Method

303

calls this common-sensical viewpoint “natural consciousness.” ( I n the first chapter, i t reappears as “sense-certainty,” die sinnliche Gewissheit.) Because o f its naive certainty, Hegel assures us that i t is n o t knowledge at all, “ o n l y the concept o f knowledge;” that is, i t has the idea

that i t knows the world without i n fact knowing it. Absolute knowing, b y way o f contrast, 1s knowing that one knows, n o t only without a doubt

but beyond doubt. The move from “natural consciousness” t o real knowledge is, of course, by way o f Science (Wissenschaft). Science, i n this context, might best be thought o f simply as philosophical reflection, as raising the question how—with what warrant—*"“natural consciousness” claims t o k n o w the world. With “ n a t u r a l consciousness”, which claims with

sophomoric stubborn narticulateness that i t “just knows,” the philosophical sceptic has a field day. I t 1s a familiar scenario i n introductory philosophy courses. What follows “natural consciousness” is a “pathway o f doubt,” as the sceptic wedges his arguments i n between experience and the things themselves, between what one always thought one knew a n d the absolute truth (78). But, o f course, this isn’t fullblooded Science either, only Science at its mischievous a n d somewhat

sophistical beginnings. Like Socrates playing with one o f his interlocutors i n Plato’s dialogues, Science destroys our common-sense confidence i n what we thought we knew. But this is only the preliminary to Science; what Science has to d o n o w is to show us, as i t raises these problems we h a d n o t seen o r h a d n o t clearly seen before, what m o r e

adequate viewpoints might take their place and resolve them. And once this starts, the dialectic is under way.

The Introduction, with little fanfare, gives us our entry into the Phenomenology. I n a quarter o f the space o f the Preface, Hegel tells us

quite clearly that “the series of configurations which consciousness goes through along this road is, i n reality, the detailed history o f the education [Bildung] of consciousness itself t o the standpoint o f Science” (78). I n o t h e r words, we will find the Truth—the most adequate

way o f comprehending the world—only through the repeated overthrow o f less adequate conceptions, beginning with the sceptical overthrow o f our original naive “natural” certainty. I t is a t this point that Hegel offers u p his tribute t o Descartes, though n o t by name; This path is the conscious insight into the untruth o f phenomenal knowledge, for which the supreme reality is what is i n truth only the u n r e a l i z e d Concept. . . .T h i s t h o r o u g h - g o i n g scepticism i s also n o t the scepticism with which a n e a r n e s t zeal for truth and Science fan-

cies i t has prepared and equipped itself i n their service: the resolve, i n science, n o t t o give oneself over t o the thoughts o f others, upon

304

Hitching the Highway of Despair mere authority, but t o examine everything for oneself and follow only one’s o w n conviction, o r better still, t o produce everything oneself, a n d accept only one’s own deed as what is true. (Phenomenology, 78)

The “resolve . . .

n o t to

give oneself over . . .

to

examine everything

. . . a n d accept only one’s o w n deed as what is true” is a clear reference t o Descartes’s resolution i n the first o f his Meditations (1641) and his Discourse on Method of a few years before (1637). The “untruth o f phenomenal knowledge” refers t o the whole of consciousness, or what one merely thinks one knows; “the unrealized Concept” is Hegel's retrospective and somewhat patronizing recognition that Descartes was trying t o do, in an extremely primitive way, what Hegel is about

to succeed i n d o i n g . B u t the p a t h itself, Hegel tells us, is n o t only a

pathway of doubt but “a way o f despair,” for Descartes doubts not only a few o f his beliefs, “shilly-shallying about this o r that presumed

truth;” he doubts everything, which ends, as i t begins, i n scepticism, the reductio ad absurdum o f epistemology. The reference t o Descartes suggests that Hegel, like Kant, is i n the m o d e r n tradition. O f course, h e sees himself (as K a n t saw himself, a n d so d i d H u m e ) as p u t t i n g an end t o that tradition, a n d so most

agree with Hegel that he is more outside than inside the tradition he attacks, precisely because he rejects the traditional distinctions between “outside” and “inside” consciousness. But I think i t 1s o f the m o s t e x t r e m e importance t o any interpretation o f the Phenomenology that this is n o t clearly the case; Hegel is part o f the tradition he attacks even i f he tampers with and ultimately destroys its basic machinery. That tradition begins (as, for example, Plato and Aristotle do not) with what has been called “the first person standpoint,” a basic shift o f position from attending t o the world t o attendcommentators

i n g to one’s consciousness o f t h e w o r l d . A t first, i t m i g h t seem as i f

nothing has changed. I n place o f the view that the world exists and we are all i n i t , Descartes a n d the empiricists a n d K a n t a n d others

began with their own conscious existence and then turned t o the world and asked a seemingly simple and innocent question, “How do I know that m y beliefs and experiences are true?” Thus began the separation o f consciousness and the world that still gives rise t o the problem, “How can I know that my experiences correspond t o the world?” which i n t u r n passes into the purely polemical hands o f the sceptic. N o w it is clear that Hegel does n o t accept the sceptical position as even a n intelligible possibility, a n d therefore h e does n o t accept the

separation o f consciousness and world. H e simply acknowledges “the

Against Method

305

Absolute,” o r consciousness-of(as?)-the-world. W i t h K a n t , w h o h a d

argued that the understanding does n o t infer its laws from n a t u r e but rather imposes them, Hegel agrees that even the innocent question, “How do I know that my beliefs and experiences (in general) are true?,” must be abandoned. Furthermore, Hegel goes beyond Kant i n n o t even accepting t h e existence o f a n individual t h i n k i n g self as

an absolute certainty (though this will

not

be discussed until much

later i n the book) a n d so does n o t accept the Cartesian-Kantian premise, that an “ I t h i n k ” accompanies (or m u s t be able to accompany) all

of my “representations.” Thus one might well be tempted t o insist that Hegel rejects the “first person standpoint” as well, for he rejects the idea o f consciousness as a separate realm, h e rejects the very i n -

telligibility o f epistemology in the traditional sense, and he even rejects the idea o f the self. So much for the first person standpoint, it seems. B u t this would be an error. “ T h e Absolute” 1s a n essentially

first-person conception. Hegel is j u s t as m u c h a part o f the tradition as Descartes. H e rejects the epistemological apparatus, h e even rejects the self as “given,” b u t

he nonetheless accepts the standpoint. The phenomenological standpoint he adopts, however, is n o t i n any sense first person singular; nor, for that matter, 1s i t first person plural either. I t 1s rather first person as “Spirit,” a so far undifferentiated subject that Fichte and Schelling h a d called “ t h e Absolute” a n d which K a n t , w i t h some confusion, h a d

called “the transcendental ego” and “consciousness in general” The identity of this subject may be i n question (it is n o t an individual substance; i t 1s n o t a soul) b u t its existence at t h e very basis o f Hegel's

philosophical outlook is n o t i n question. “Truth is substance and subject as well,” he w r o t e i n the Preface(17), and he did not just mean that the world consists o f m a t t e r and mind t o o . The subject is n o t a thing, n o t an ego o r a determinate self b u t a viewpoint (the only pos-

sible viewpoint, within the tradition) such that it is consciousness— whether or n o t distinguished from the world o f objects of which it is conscious—that represents the standpoint o f our every philosophical move. This is, after all, the only sense t o be given t o the word, “phenomenology,” and the only sense too t o be given t o the fact that from beginning t o end, Hegel tells us that consciousness is the protagonist of the Phenomenology, realizing itself as self and then Spirit, developing itself through “the Concept” t o the level o f Science and (in the Logic) “the Idea.” I t is the first person standpoint gutted o f all of its traditional apparatus—the individual Self and “subjectivity” and Kant’s “possibility o f the ‘ I think’ accompanying all o f my representations.”

306

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

But i t is the first person standpoint that 1s assumed throughout, and i t is consciousness that is o u r subject matter, all the way. Indeed, i t was

the elevation o f consciousness t o this central role that Hegel saw as one o f his primary advances over Schelling.

The adoption o f the first-person standpoint is already, according t o Hegel, the acknowledgment o f the Absolute. I t is the acceptance o f what Heidegger would later call one’s “being-in-the-world” as the starting point of all experience and knowledge and the first principle o f philosophy. But comprehending one’s being-in-the-world, as opposed t o simply accepting it as a starting point, is a complex and convoluted educational experience, the “road” t o absolute knowing that the text o f the Phenomenology provides for us. Thus, in only a few pages o f the Introduction, Hegel has already set us u p i n the Absolute. What remains, i n the hundreds of pages t o follow, is t o unfold the various “forms o f consciousness” which, ideally, add up t o absolute knowing, that is, taking up the first-person standpoint from every possible perspective and comprehending the Absolute as a whole. (And i f there can be n o absolute knowing, and so n o Absolute i n this allencompassing sense, a t least the journey itself will “expand o u r con-

sciousness,” i f t o less than absolute proportions.) Placing Hegel i n the mainstream o f the modern tradition and interpreting the Phenomenology as an exercise within the first-person standpoint has several pervasive implications for our reading and interpretation o f the t e x t . First o f all, i t means that, as Hegel insists i n the I n t r o d u c t i o n , we ourselves are involved in the dialectic that is to follow, a n d i t is “consciousness [1.e. o u r consciousness] that will provide the c r i t e r i o n ” for what is t o come,” (84). We are n o t (as Hegel

coyly suggests in the Preface) mere observers, pretending

to

look away

as consciousness goes its o w n way. Second, many o f the oddest fea-

tures o f Hegel's philosophy—most notably his all-embracing concept o f Geist(Spirit)—make sense and achieve their plausibility only within this tradition—straining it t o its ultimate limits and making reaction against i t unavoidable. (This reaction came soon enough, with Kierkegaard, Marx, and Nietzsche in 19th-century Europe, Bertrand

Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein in early 20th-century England.) And third, it is essential t o see that Hegel, in rejecting the correspondence view o f truth (between experience and the things themselves) was opening u p the way for a more sophisticated view o f truth, which begins, b u t b y n o means ends, w i t h what we m i g h t call a developmental c o h e r e n c e theory. Truth, i n a p h r a s e , i s consciousness c o m i n g i n t o

agreement with itself.

Against Method

307

The Question of the Criterion . . . a s a n i n v e s t i g a t i o n a n d examination o f t h e reality o f cognition,

it

would seem that i t c a n n o t take place without some presupposition w h i c h c a n s e r v e as i t s u n d e r l y i n g criterion. —Phenomenology

I n the Introduction (80), Hegel tells us that “the goal 1s as necessarily fixed for knowledge as the serial progression; it is the point where knowledge no longer needs t o go beyond itself, where knowledge finds itself, where Concept corresponds t o object and object t o Concept.” B u t the correspondence language (“Concept t o object, object t o Concept”) should n o t blind us t o the fact that what Hegel is actually defending here is a coherence view of truth, the way our various concepts a n d judgments tie together, the way we comprehend our experience w i t h i n the network o f cur self-imposed concepts a n d forms, the intelligibility o f o u r concepts i n the face o f o u r actual experience, o u r

over-all sense o f total comprehension. B u t how could there be a probl e m here, you m i g h t well ask. T h a t is, i f one accepts the K a n t i a n concept o f “ c o n s t i t u t i o n ” such t h a t i t is o u r concepts t h a t “set u p ” the

objects of our experience, then how could they fail

to

cohere? The

answer 1s that they c o u l d fail i n j u s t the same way that a n architect w h o builds a b u i l d i n g m i g h t fail—if the plans themselves are i n error, o r they could fail i n m u c h the same way that the builder might fail,

by n o t meeting the requirements o f the plans. And this is what Hegel calls “contradiction,” n o t (usually) the opposition of logically c o n t r a dictory theses but the incoherence o f a form o f knowledge, its inadequacy according t o its own criteria. Where does this “criterion” come from? Hegel tells us,—“consciousness will provide its own criterion” (84) and this criterion, in a word, is coherence. But this is t o o simple. First o f all, ıt is not, for Hegel, a purely cognitive o r epistemological n o t i o n ; it is n o t , i n other

words, the purely logical doctrine of “internal relations” of F.H.Bradley that so infuriated Bertrand Russell. (See p . 325) For Hegel, coherence is ultimately self-satisfaction, the integrity o f self-identity rather than the mere logical cohesion of one’s judgments. Thus, i n the middle o f his discussion of “Science,” he tells us that the dialectic 1s ultimately d r i v e n b y the fact that we “always find ourselves back at the same

barren ego,” and it is this sense o f personal inadequacy, rather than some epistemological quandary, that provides the criterion for coherence, t h e standard o f truth. S e c o n d , c o h e r e n c e i s n o t a q u e s t i o n o f conformity t o a s i n g l e s t a n -

308

Hitching the Highway of Despair

dard; i n fact, throughout the Phenomenology, i t is the standard itself that changes. The idea that consciousness provides its own criterion thus lends itself t o another interpretation; n o t only do we discover i n ourselves an over-riding all-encompassing demand for coherent comprehension o f our experience; we also find, for each “form o f consciousness’, a specific criterion which is intrinsic to that form itself (85-87). “Concept a n d object” then become n o t a dualism o f con-

sciousness and thing-in-itself (which is exactly what Hegel rejects) but rather a form and its satisfaction o f its own criterion, which may n o t succeed. For example,—the criterion for knowing something is knowing the thing-itself; that is the criterion for knowledge which is provided by our very idea o f knowledge. But when we try t o conceptualize and describe what it is t o know something, a la Descartes or Locke or H u m e o r Kant, we find that o u r description o f the form o f consciousness isn’t adequate to c a p t u r e what 1s so obviously essential to i t . (Remember that a “form o f consciousness” includes the attempt to artic-

ulate i t as well as the form o f experience itself). Another example— we tend t o think of relationships with other people as meetings o f t w o individuals, w i t h common interests a n d reciprocal desires, i n c l u d i n g the desire for approval. B u t w h a t we really want o u t o f a relationship

(whether lovers o r friends) may well be something else, which that set of desires and expectations makes impossible. Again, what we think about our consciousness and what consciousness is actually doing are askew. A n d one more example-—a m a n thinks o f his society and his

government i n particular as something separate from himself, even opposed t o him; but as he struggles for what he calls his “freedom” he finds that he feels increasingly “alienated” from society, feels lonely and isolated and dissatisfied with himself. Here Hegel again would say that something is wrong with the form o f consciousness itself, that the ideal form o f consciousness would n o t leave us with that sense o f dissatisfaction, w o u l d n o t set u p an ideal for itself which at the same

time would make us unhappy. “Thus consciousness suffers this violence at its o w n hands; i t spoils its o w n limited satisfaction” (80). Each form o f consciousness provides its o w n “criterion,” its o w n

ideals, its own desires and intentions. And it is according t o this criterion, these ideals a n d desires a n d intentions, that a form o f consciousness is shown to be inadequate, not according t o some “outside”

standard. A n argument against democracy, for instance, could

not

consist o f the fact that i t fails t o recognize the divine right o f kings;

what would count as an argument might be an objection that, by its own standard o f equal representation and power for each individual,

Against Method

309

democracy fails, because the majority inevitably imposes its opinions on minorities. A n argument against a certain conception o f knowledge (what Hegel calls “sense-certainty”), which claims t o know by mere intuition rather than through any effort o f the understanding, cannot simply dismiss i n t u i t i o n as irrelevant to knowledge; what one

would have t o show is that this claim about knowledge, by its own standards, cannot m a k e even the slightest sense o f the fact

that

we d o

know—that today is Tuesday or that Tirich Mir is the tallest mountain i n Pakistan. B u t i t is a n o p e n question, at every t u r n , w h e t h e r when “ t w o moments [ o f consciousness] d o n o t correspond to one another,

one changes the form o r alters the criterion,” whether “consciousness must alter its k n o w l e d g e to m a k e i t conform to the object” o r whether

one m u s t actually change the object. I n fact, we virtually always find b o t h , for “ i n the alteration o f knowledge, the object alters for i t too, for the knowledge that was present was essentially a cognition o f the

object” (85). I n other words, the form and its criterion are inseparable, a n d to change one is almost always to change the other. T h e

criterion constitutes the form. I n fact, however, many of the arguments i n the Phenomenology keep one constant a n d change only the

other—give u p a criterion which is inadequate t o the form, or change the form t o fit a criterion which is n o t essentially altered. The “object” Hegel is talking about, by the way, should n o t be thought of as a specific physical object, but rather simply what a form o f consciousness is “about” —which might be knowledge or interpersonal relations or virtue or society or abstract ideas. And, once again, the form that Hegel talks about with misleading singularity may mean both a way of conceiving an object and a way o f describing that conception. But this means—if I may try n o t t o be t o o troublesome—that what counts as “ f o r m , ” what counts as “criterion,” and what c o u n t s as “ t h e object”

may i n many cases be interchangable. A theory o f knowledge, for example, depends upon what we think we know, and what we think we k n o w depends u p o n the conceptions we b r i n g to o u r experience, including a certain view o f knowledge (whether o r n o t this is articu-

lated as a “theory”). The idea that knowledge consists o f sensory awareness o f tangible particular objects, for instance, manifests itself

in a way o f experiencing and thinking about objects as well as i n a sophisticated theory about what c o u n t s as knowledge. So t o o , o u r ethical theories depend t o a large e x t e n t on what we actually do and have been taught is right or wrong, but then what we do and consider t o be right and wrong quite obviously get influenced by various theories of ethics, whether particular normative principles (“never tell a lie”

310

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

o r “get h i m before h e gets you”) o r highly abstract moral theories

(“always a c t so that the maxim o f your action should be willed as a law for everyone”). The “contradictions” o f Hegel's Phenomenology are, first o f all, contradictions within forms of consciousness. They are contradictions bet w e e n the way a conception actually works and the theory we formulate about it, between the standard for success and the pathetic failure t o reach that standard, between contradictory formulations of the same criterion or between contradictory efforts t o carry o u t a certain program. I t is only in the study o f the t e x t itself that we will be able t o identify and examine the rich variety of “contradictions” that Hegel provokes i n the various “forms o f consciousness” o f the Phenomenology. B u t t o simplify what we have just said above and Hegel’s own unnecessary double talk on the topic, one can say that, for each form of consciousness, there will be some internally significant inadequacy; sometimes it will be simply the fact that it has nothing t o say o f itself, and is therefore said t o be “empty.” Sometimes i t will be because i t invokes a standard which it c a n n o t possibly reach. Sometimes it will be because its conception o f itself is inadequate t o a c c o u n t for what i t obviously is (as when a fascist describes his society as “true freedom” or an obviously unhappy hedonist insists that “pleasure is the only good.) Sometimes a form will be inadequate because i t leaves o u t t o o much, and sometimes a form will be inadequate because it claims t o o much for itself. These inadequacies are the “errors” without which we will n o t move t o w a r d the t r u t h . Correcting them, accordingly, is the dialectic t h a t moves t h e Phenomenology, as we try to get a general criterion

for consciousness that is adequate t o itself. The progression o f forms i n the Phenomenology does follow one formal requirement, which Hegel calls “determinate negation” (79). What this means is that every inadequate form, every “error,” suggests ano t h e r f o r m , a way to correct o r get a r o u n d t h e problems i t poses. “Determinate negation” means that the alternative is distinctive; for example, a person who rejects the life o f pleasure tends (according to

Hegel) t o t u r n t o a life o f virtue. “Indeterminate negation” would be a simple rejection, with n o particular way t o go. I n a particular context—choosing a dessert, for example—"“not an apple” might mean “ a banana”; that is determinate negation. B u t o u t o f all context, “not an apple” applies t o everything whatever—except apples; that is indeterminate negation. (“Well, how about the number 3, then?) But since all o f Hegel's forms a r e discussed within a particular context, t h e i r “ n e g a t i o n ” is i n every case determinate, which is n o t t o say, strictly

311

Against Method

entailed or i n any other sense “necessary.” The most insidious case of indeterminate negation, on the other hand, is scepticism, which denies the validity o f our whole system o f knowledge but provides no alternative.

Knowledge as Self-Knowledge: The Three Voices of the Phenomenology I n a s m u c h as t h e n e w t r u e object issues f r o m it, t h i s d i a l e c t i c a l move-

which consciousness exercises o n itself and which affects both its knowledge and its object, 1s precisely what is called experience (Erment

fahrung). —Phenomenology

What makes the dialectic possible, and Hegel’s philosophy so exhilarating, Is the post-Kantian recognition that the concepts through which we understand our experience contribute t o the formation o f o u r

experience. Thus theories of knowledge, o f human relations, o f society, of virtue, are n o t merely theories “about” already determinate subject-matters—which either accurately describe them or do n o t — but they are rather the conceptual forms that make u p the subject matter. Materialist theories of knowledge tend t o interpret the world as n o t h i n g b u t matter; democratic theories o f government tend to

encourage 1f n o t demand democratic governments; theories that view human relations as essentially conflict tend t o promote conflicts. Thus the form a n d its theory are never wholly distinct; the “object” a n d

consciousness are mutually supportive, mutually necessary. Looking a t philosophy i n general, this all-important idealist twist defines quite clearly for us at least the o p e n i n g arguments o f the Phe-

nomenology. “Consciousness knows something” Hegel tells us (86) and this something is “ i n itself.” But what we now know (since Kant) is that this something is “in itself only for consciousness;” in other words, i t 1s constituted as i n itself b u t nevertheless is not, as i t seems, inde-

pendent of consciousness. “From the present viewpoint” o f postKantian idealist philosophy, therefore, “there is a reversal o f consciousness itself,” which Kant called his “Copernican Revolution,” according t o which we now see objects i n t e r m s of our conceptualization o f them, as “something contributed by us” B u t this means that the foundations of knowledge depend upon self-knowledge, and the forms of the world i n fact t u r n o u t t o be the forms o f consciousness. I n Hegel, however, these forms are n o t the fixed categories o f the u n -

derstanding (as for Kant) and so self-knowledge

too turns

into some-

312

Hıitching the Highway of Despair

thing else—a comprehension o f the changes o f consciousness from form t o form, which Hegel calls “reason.” ! * T h e three categories, “consciousness,” “self-consciousness,” a n d “reason” are, o f course, the three-part structure o f the Phenomenology. B u t there is a more important sense i n which they also represent three

different “levels” o f consciousness. Consider the following mundane example: you have an emotion or a mood-—you are angry a t Joe or afraid o f a small barking dog, or you are generally depressed. At first, your whole attention is focused on the “object” o f your emotion; Joe seems hateful to you; the d o g seems ferocious; the w o r l d i n general

seems colorless and frustrating. Then, you “catch” yourself, and become self-conscious; y o u become aware o f the fact that you're angry, o r afraid, o r depressed, a n d y o u r attention n o w shifts to y o u r self.

(Perhaps you will even get angry

at

yourself for being angry and for-

get about Joe altogether. B u t recognizing that you're depressed some-

times makes you even more depressed.) I f you are “reasonable,” however, the process does n o t stop there; y o u try to understand why y o u

are angry, or afraid, or depressed. You examine your feelings but you also reflect m o r e carefully o n the situation and the “object” o f your emotion o r mood—no longer the object “ i n itself” (as i t seemed to y o u at first) b u t n o w t h e object—]Joe, the d o g , the world—as i t relates t o y o u r e m o t i o n o r m o o d . T h r o u g h such examination, o f course,

you often change your emotion or mood, although the direction o f that change (intensifying it, defusing it, transforming i t t o another passion) depends o n the particular case, o n you and your emotional

outlook in general. W h a t we have just d o n e is to present, i n simple everyday terms, the three “stages” o f “consciousness,” “self-consciousness,” and “reason.” Notice

that, i n t h e final reflection, all t h r e e a r e p r e s e n t a t o n c e — i n

fact, one cannot have the reflection without the selt-consciousness, an d one cannot b e (truly) self-conscious o f having a particular emotion unless one indeed has that emotion. O n the other hand, one could b e conscious without b e i n g self-conscious, and one can be selfconscious w i t h o u t b e i n g reasonable a n d reflective; a n d

this is j u s t what

happens i n the Phenomenology. I n the early stages, we (consciousness) 1 0 . H e g e l sometimes calls t h i s “ e x p e r i e n c e , ” b y w h i c h h e m e a n s not j u s t t h e percept i o n of individual matters of fact b u t t h e w h o l e of o u r comprehension. Hegel's original t i t l e for t h e P G , remember, w a s “The Science o f the Experience o f Consciousness,” (see P G , 88), although i t i s “ c o n s c i o u s n e s s ” n o t “ r e a s o n ” o r “ e x p e r i e n c e ” t h a t is the subjectmatter throughout m o s t o f t h e t e x t . E x p e r i e n c e i s t h u s best c o n c e i v e d as t h e whole process o f consciousness, w i t h r e a s o n j u s t o n e o f i t s aspects. F o r a n o b s c u r e b u t i n s i g h t -

fully appreciative analysis, see Martin Heidegger's Hegel's Concept of Experience (New York: Harper and Row, 1970).

Against Method

313

are aware primarily of objects—the world before our eyes. Later (with Kant) we become self-conscious, and increasingly aware o f our own role in constituting the world—whatever its c o n t e n t happens t o be. “Self-consciousness” has little t o say about the actual forms of the world, b u t the w o r l d nevertheless must be there, i f n o longer the focus o f o u r attention. A n d finally, i n the l o n g final development o f the book, we become circumspectively reflective, l o o k i n g b o t h at the objects o f o u r knowledge a n d at the forms o f selfhood through which we come t o conceive o f this knowledge, i n c l u d i n g the history o f these forms,

changing them as we examine them, looking a t them in this way and then i n that way, trying t o get the total picture. What Hegel sometimes seems t o suggest—in t u n e with the Enlighte n m e n t thinking o f his time-—is that we can, ultimately, be completely transparent t o ourselves, understand with divine wisdom the work-

ings o f consciousness and its motives. This, o f course, would be genuine absolute knowing, complete self-knowledge which includes a t o tal understanding o f the world and the ways i n which we know it. But elsewhere i n the Phenomenology, Hegel is part o f that long German tradition, from the Gothic mystics t o Leibniz t o Freud, who saw quite clearly the opacity o f consciousness t o itself, the impossibility of such transparency and the endlessness of reflection and selfunderstanding.!! B u t whether the process can be completed o r not,

the essential structure will always be the same-—awareness of the world (“consciousness”), then awareness o f oneself being aware o f the world (“self-consciousness”), and then the critical examination of oneself being aware o f oneself being aware o f the world. This part o f the dialectic 1s “necessary,” at least; one cannot begin to reflect u n t i l one has a life to

reflect about. Thus we “apprehend the rich and

concrete

abun-

d a n c e [ o f l i f e ] . . . finally t o g i v e a c c u r a t e i n s t r u c t i o n a n d pass serious

judgment upon it. From its very beginning, culture m u s t leave room for t h e earnestness o f l i f e , i n its concrete richness; . . . this k i n d o f

knowing and judging will still retain its appropriate place i n ordinary conversation” (Phenomenology 4, i n the Preface). The whole process, including all three “levels” o f consciousness, is what Hegel calls experience (Erfahrung). A n d “consciousness” too, de-

spite its restricted denotation i n the first part o f the Phenomenology, essentially includes all three levels, n o t merely knowing the world, but self-knowledge and reflective reason t o o . The experience o f consciousness is n o t , therefore, just simple awareness o f the world, b u t a 11. Cf. Taylor, Hegel: “For Hegel there is n o problem o f the relation o f linguistic, of e x p e r i e n c e , for Geist i s c o m -

a r t i c u l a t e c o n s c i o u s n e s s t o deeper, unreflective l e v e l s p l e t e s e l f - c l a r i t y ” (p. 569).

314

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

chorus o f “voices” o f consciousness with different interests and diftere n t domains. Throughout the Phenomenology, we will see that there are at least three such voices. First, there is the voice o f a participant

in each form o f consciousness who 1s aware primarily i f n o t solely o f the c o n t e n t o f that form. Then there is the voice o f the participant who has become self-conscious, who tries t o articulate n o t just the contents but the form itself, the theory behind it, its intentions a n d

goals. (These

two

voices become confused, naturally enough, when

the content o f the form is already articulate, o r when the content is

itself Self-consciousness.) Finally, there is the philosophical voice of reason— ‘for us who are following the process’—that enters i n t o the procedure at every critical point. T h e t h i r d voice, o f course, is Hegel himself, leading us, like a good psychiatrist, from naive awareness o f

the world t o self-awareness t o rational reflection, in order t o change for the better the way we see both ourselves and the w o r l d!2 .

The Idealist Twist: Knowledge as an Activity We c a n know a priori o f things only what we ourselves put into them. —Kant, Critique o f Pure Reason

T h e idealist t u r n t o self-consciousness and reason has a more pro-

found and confusing consequence whose beginnings we also find i n Kant. I t was Kant who insisted that we supply the categories t o give form t o experience but denied that we thereby knew “the things-inthemselves.” But Kant did not, as Fichte later suggested, mention the unknowable “things-in-themselves” i n error, retaining inadvertently an inessential leftover from an earlier metaphysical era. Knowledge was only half the story for Kant; faith—or more accurately, “practical

reason”—was the other half. Just because all knowledge is limited

to

experience didn’t mean that we can have n o rational beliefs (but n o t “knowledge”) about the things-in-themselves. A l l action, will, mo12. T h e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f t h e s e t h r e e v o i c e s v a r i e s from commentator t o commenJames Ogilvy, for example, distinguishes; (1) the forms themselves; (2) Hegel who

tator.

has gone t h r o u g h t h e m already; (3) We (students) w h o a r e g o i n g t h r o u g h for t h e first

time. T h e

t h r e e voices

might also be compared profitably

w i t h the three “egos”

in Kant's

critical philosophy, which Sam Todes analyses as: (1) empirical ego (that knows the facts, feels d e p r e s s e d , remembers its childhood); ( 2 ) t r a n s c e n d e n t a l ego ( t h a t i m p o s e s

rules o n e x p e r i e n c e ) ; (3) p h i l o s o p h i c a l reflection (which d i s c o v e r s t h e p r e s u p p o s i t i o n s of empirical consciousness and the a priori forms o f understanding). The first might simply be called “experience” (but n o t i n Hegel's all-embracing sense); the second is understanding, and the third is reason. See Samuel Todes, “Knowledge and the Ego: Kant’s T h r e e Stages o f Self-Evidence,” i n R.P. Wolff (ed.), Kant ( N e w York: Doubleday, 1967).

Against Method

315

rality, a n d religious belief are based o n the things themselves, a n d

Kant accordingly distinguished the “sensible” world of knowledge from the “intelligible” world of human action, morality, and faith. I n the intelligible world, we encounter the things-in-themselves directly (which prompted Schopenhauer, i n conspicuous competition with Hegel, t o postulate The Will—writ large, like “ S p i r i t ”— as the thing-in-itself.) Now, o n the one h a n d , this distinction reintroduces just that epistemologi-

cal gap that Kant tried t o close, allowing the sceptic once again t o drive in his wedge. (This is the topic o f the first part o f Hegel’s Introduction.) But, o n the other hand, i t p u t us i n direct contact w i t h the

things themselves, though n o t as knowledge, but as practical matters.!® Kant both denied and gave i n t o the sceptic, leaving the status o f metaphysical knowledge even more uncertain than i t had been before. I n a sense, Hegel (following Fichte and Schelling) does no more than shift the t e r m s o f Kant’s argument and includes within the singular realm o f “consciousness” both what Kant called knowledge and what Kant considered our direct contact with the things-in-themselves. B u t what this means, is that both knowledge a n d action proper, as well as religious faith too, are to be understood through self-

examination, through the interpretation o f our intentions rather than through a n i n q u i r y i n t o the sources a n d origins o f knowledge. T h e world-in-itself—the Absolute—is n o t to be questioned i n either en-

deavor, i n Science or i n action. The only intelligible question, therefore, 1s n o t whether o r even how we k n o w the world b u t why we supply the forms to u n d e r s t a n d i t as we d o . This is Fichte’s view precisely.

Hegel does something more, but this is where he begins. What are the reasons why consciousness sees things this way rather than that? Charles Taylor has developed this view t o the point where he claims that knowledge is t o b e understood n o t as a matter o f inference from evidence b u t rather o n the model o f knowing one’s own actions.!*

This is directly opposed t o the traditional epistemological model, according t o which knowledge is an inference from representations which 13. The common-sense basis o f Kant’s model is this: it is only when we sit back and c o n t e m p l a t e t h e world t h a t t h e idea t h a t w e might n o t know anything, o r t h a t o u r m e n t a l r e p r e s e n t a t i o n s might n o t correspond t o t h e world, make any s e n s e a t all. I n

action, the idea o f questioning the reality o f the situation (as opposed to the rightness o f o u r action) is literally absurd. I can stare a t a soccer ball a n d wonder if i t really exists;

but i f I kick it, like Dr. Johnson, can I wonder anything of the sort? Thus Fichte, followi n g t h r o u g h , declares t h a t w e m a k e reality real t o ourselves o n l y t h r o u g h o u r activity, n o t through knowledge alone. Several r e c e n t authors have pursued an interpretation o f K a n t ’ s e p i s t e m o l o g y as a n “ a l i e n a t e d ” t h e o r y o f k n o w l e d g e , w i t h just t h i s p a r a d i g m

of

detached contemplation

i n mind.

14. I n seminars a t t h e University o f Texas, M a r c h 1980. B u t see h i s Hegel, esp. pp. 214-21, o n t h e “ s e l f - a u t h e n t i c a t i n g d i a l e c t i c . ”

316

Hitching the Highway of Despair

are caused “ i n us” b y the “external world.” T h e alternative which Tay-

lor proposes is “non-observational knowledge” (G.E.M. Anscombe’s term), which is n o t k n o w n t h r o u g h indices o r evidence; i n an important

sense, one “just knows.” But what one “knows” requires a de-

scription, a n interpretation, a n articulation o f a n intention, a goal, an

“essence” o f action. One can misunderstand one’s own action. One can misdescribe o r misconceive o f an action. What one c a n n o t do is fail t o know it a t all, as the sceptic claims we can fail t o have any

knowledge a t all. Even the m o s t e x t r e m e Freudian, who postulates unknown motives a t the base o f every action and desire, could n o t c l a i m , as t h e sceptic does, t h a t w e c a n n o t u n d e r s t a n d o u r a c t i o n s at

all. A t least t h e “superficial” descriptions are always available t o us,

and usually these prove

to

be more than sufficient.

T h e way we understand o u r actions, o f course, transform the act itself i n a rather direct way; here too we can see how the self-knowledge

model has its advantages over the epistemological model, and how it helps us t o understand what Hegel means when he says a change in knowledge means a change i n the object t o o . I f one changes one’s mind about what one is doing, what one is doing changes t o o ; and i f one has a confused conception about what t o do, what one actually does will be similarly confused. T h u s Hegel tells us that t o move from

confusion

to

clarity is

to

transform both consciousness and its object

as well. A n d the m o r e we know about o u r action, the m o r e free i t is.

Freedom, on this analysis, is just another word for nothing left t o know. Knowledge, i n the epistemological tradition, seems curiously detached, a barely embodied consciousness—tied mysteriously t o a s e t o f sense organs—trying t o find o u t about the world outside o f itself. But on the model of knowledge as self-knowledge, which brings t o gether the practical and the theoretical aspects o f our conscious activity, i t is clear h o w it is that o u r reflections a n d o u r efforts to change o u r intentions follow a practical r u l e and require as m o r e than a matter o f merely theoretical elegance a thoroughness, a coherence, a practicality that is essential t o right action and good living, as well as

t o “Science.” I t is t h e practical exigencies o f life t h a t keep us going,

force us t o change, move the dialectic; the “contradictions” i n the Phenomenology, m o r e often t h a n not, t u r n o u t t o b e p r a c t i c a l dilemmas

rather than theoretical inconsistencies. Every form o f consciousness, whether implicitly or explicitly, is n o t a belief about “the external world”; i t is rather, i n Wittgenstein’s now popular phrase, a form of life. I t is i n the discussion o f knowledge t h a t this thesis is m o s t striking, m o s t i n n o v a t i v e , a n d m o s t a t o d d s w i t h K a n t ’ s limited v i e w o f knowl-

edge. Every claim t o knowledge, as well as every theory o f knowledge,

Against Method

317

includes the conscious activity o f setting u p criteria for adequacy, for evidence, for interpretation. Philosophical reflection, i n t u r n , i n -

volves making these criteria explicit, challenging them, and seeing if, i n fact, they provide us with an adequate (that is, practical) conception of our own experience. This practical demand throws a very different light on Hegel's much abused celebration o f contradiction—in Kant’s antimonies, for example: i t 1s often supposed that Hegel champions contradictions “ i n the world,” and this 1s quite rightly objected t o as a matter o f intellectual perversity. But the contradictions Hegel derives in the Phenomenology are for the m o s t part practical: they are dilemmas o f self-consciousness and practical reason rather than mutually exclusive propositions. Hegel recognizes the mevitability o f such dilemmas, b u t he also insists that they are the results o f a too-restricted

perspective or inadequate conceptions of oneself. Contradictions are significant for Hegel because they demand resolution. One can live with Zeno’s paradoxes; one cannot live with an incoherent conception of self that makes one’s actions pointless.!? To know is also t o be engaged i n an activity. This thesis, which so influenced Dewey a n d the pragmatists in o u r o w n century, is at the heart o f Hegel, a n d 1t 1s the m a i n p o i n t o f the I n t r o d u c t i o n and, ul-

timately, much o f the Phenomenology. I t is a thesis that is firmly based i n Kant’s philosophy, but with twists that Kant would never have recognized, much less approved of. I t is a n activity that is inextricably

linked with other practical activities, comprehending oneself and one’s place i n the w o r l d . With that i n m i n d , the traditional epistemological

picture o f detached consciousness trying t o reach o u t o r infer t o a world “outside” is n o t only philosophically inadequate because i t leads t o scepticism; it i t a practical absurdity. Knowing is a part o f living and doing, a n d to t h i n k o f ı t otherwise is to render curiously effete o r irrelevant the conceptual activities without which w e would n o t be

conscious a t all. The experience o f itself which consciousness goes through can, i n accordance with its Concept, comprehend nothing less than the entire system o f consciousness, or the entire realm o f the truth o f Spirit. For this reason, the moments o f this t r u t h are exhibited i n their own

proper determinateness, viz. as being n o t abstract moments, but as they are for consciousness, or as consciousness itselt stands forth i n its relation t o them. T h u s the m o m e n t s o f the whole are patterns of consciousness. I n pressing forward t o its t r u e existence, consciousness will a r r i v e at a p o i n t a t w h i c h i t gets r i d o f its semblance o f b e i n g 15. T h e m o s t d r a m a t i c e x a m p l e o f a n i n c o h e r e n t c o n c e p t i o n o f s e l f i n t h e P G i s t h e A n t i g o n e s t o r y , which Hegel presents a s a classic i l l u s t r a t i o n o f divided loyalties—schiz-

oid identity—in the making o f tragedy. (PG, 464).

318

Hitching the Highway of Despair

b u r d e n e d w i t h something alien, w i t h what is only for it, a n d some sort

of “other,”

at

a point where appearance becomes identical with

essence, so that its exposition will coincide a t just this point with the

authentic Science of Spirit. And finally, when consciousness itself grasps this its own essence, i t will signify the n a t u r e o f absolute knowledge itself.'®

16. Notice that here, as elsewhere, Hegel takes absolute knowledge t o be the mom e n t when “consciousness itself grasps this its o w n essence.” I t is n o t clear, however,

whether i t

i s t h i s simple fact o f cosmic self-recognition t h a t c o n s t i t u t e s a b s o l u t e k n o w -

i n g o r whether it is the detailed comprehension o f the contents o f consciousness that is required as well. T h e first interpretation makes absolute knowing little more than recognition o f the Absolute; the latter provides a m u c h stronger conception o f the path to absolute knowledge without which the greater part o f the P G would n o t be necessary.

Chapter Seven

Consciousness and the Dialectic: Hegel's Theory of Knowledge and His Philosophy of Science (chapters 1 - 3 , 4 , 5A)

True knowledge and ordinary knowledge are different. I once saw a farmer who had been wounded by a tiger. When someone said that a tiger was hurting people, everyone was startled. But the farmer reacted differently than the r e s t . Even a young boy knows that tigers can hurt people, but his is n o t t r u e knowledge. I t 1s t r u e knowledge only i f i t is like the farmer's. —Ch’eng I

The best-known single chapter o f the Phenomenology, except perhaps for the “Master-Slave” parable of chapter 4, 1s the first chapter on “Sense-Certainty” (Sinnliche Gewissheit). The least read chapter o f the Phenomenology, o n the other hand, 1s the first part o f chapter 5, what

Hegel would call his “philosophy o f nature” and we would call his “philosophy o f science.” But the t w o stand i n an important relationship, and between them is a sometimes agonizing progression of positions which—though many o f them c a n n o t be appreciated without some reference t o the now archaic scientific views o f the time—show Hegel t o b e anticipating some o f the more radical moves i n very re-

cent philosophy. I n this long chapter, I

want to

go through this progression of forms,

from sense-certainty, perception, a n d “force a n d understanding” i n t o

the first few pages o f chapter 4, where Hegel’s theory takes a decisively pragmatic t u r n , a n d through the first part o f chapter 5, where

Hegel borrows heavily from Schelling and develops an Idealist philosophy o f n a t u r e , in which laws are d i c t a t e d n o t to but by consciousn e s s , as K a n t had declared i n his Prolegomena (“The u n d e r s t a n d i n g d o e s n o t d e r i v e i t s l a w s ( a p r i o r i ) f r o m , but p r e s c r i b e s t h e m t o , na-

319

320

Hitching the Highway of Despair

ture.”).! I t was a project already begun by Kant i n his Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science of 1786, but Hegel’s account, like Schelling’s, far more resembles Aristotle than Newton. T h e model is biol-

ogy rather than physics, and more concerned with “life” and teleology than simple cause and effect. All o f these chapters are straightforwardly about knowledge. They are, i n the broad sense, epistemological theories about what it is to

know the world and what i t is that 1s known. The first three chapters are collectively entitled “consciousness,” by which Hegel does not mean

“the mind” but rather more like “knowing something.” The emphasis i n all three chapters is n o t on the knowing, however, but rather on the “something,” on what i t 1s that one supposedly knows. I f we were t o choose a single book for comparison it would have t o be Plato’s Theaetetus, whose declared purpose is t o define knowledge. Like Plato,

Hegel's whole purpose is t o demonstrate the unimportance of particular things and the essential role o f universals for all knowledge.? These three chapters take u s from “natural consciousness” or the view that the objects of knowledge are simply “given” t o our senses with no effort o n o u r part, to the Kantian position that o u r knowledge con-

sists of the contributions w e make through “understanding” and the imposition o f a priori concepts (“unconditioned universals”) t o our

experience. What is notably missing from these three chapters is any discussion o f scepticism, which has been put t o the side i n the Introduction. The breakdown o f “natural consciousness” i n “SenseCertainty” 1s n o t by way o f “indeterminate” doubt but by way o f “determinate” dissatisfaction with common-sense certainty and the need t o re-interpret what i t 1s t h a t we know. B u t we surely do know something. T h e sceptical doubt—whether we know anything a t all—is gone from view altogether; i t 1s a manifest absurdity

that

does n o t even

deserve a place i n the dialectic. The progression o f the first five chapters 1s emphatically n o t chronological o r i n any sense a r e p o r t o n the recent history o f epistemology, despite the fact that such authors as Kant, Fichte, Newton, Locke, a nd 1. Kant, Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics, p. 67. 2. The general comparison between Hegel's epistemological explorations and the ontology of Plato is worked o u t by Stanley Rosen i n his G.W.F. Hegel, esp. ch. 4, pp. 64— 88. The central purpose o f the Theaetetus is to define knowledge, but the conclusion is

largely negative, which leads Cornford and other commentators t o say that the unspoken purpose of the dialogue is t o show that knowledge is impossible without universals, o r what P l a t o c a l l s “ F o r m s ” ( F . M . C o r n f o r d , Plato’s Theory o f Knowledge (London, 1935)). The argument against the immediacy o f sensation in “Sense-Certainty” is certainly from t h e Theaetetus, a n d s o i s t h e a r g u m e n t o f “ t h e i n v e r t e d w o r l d ” a t t h e e n d o f chapter 3 . o u t c o m e o f these chapters, however, might be compared with the Theaetetus’ s i s t e r - d i a l o g u e , Sophist, i n w h i c h Plato’s t h e o r y o f “ n e g a t i o n ” seems t o s e r v e as a

The positive

model for Hegel's analysis o f “Perception” i n chapter 2 and “force” i n chapter 3.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

321

Leibniz are very much i n evidence. First o f all, scepticism plays no role in the story, which surely ı t m u s t i n any a c c o u n t of the origins of Kant’s philosophy. Second, the implicit references in these chapters Just as often concern the worries o f the ancients, Plato and Aristotle

i n particular,® as the epistemological concerns o f the moderns. But i t 1s, i n any case, n o t just history b u t philosophy, in which we follow

Hegel working our way through various philosophical positions, concerning ourselves w i t h ideas, n o t their authors. T h e p o i n t is to appreciate a certain line o f theorizing, t o see what each position offers and t o see what is w r o n g (or rather, less than wholly adequate) about it.

And the first position quite “naturally,” is that o f “natural consciousness” o r what we would call “naive realism” —the view that the objects o f knowledge are simply “ o u t there” in the world, and we need only

open our eyes and apprehend them. The problems with this position are the beginning o f every introductory philosophy class, but what is novel is what Hegel does once he has rejected this common-sense position. This will be our first opportunity t o examine a progression of the dialectic i n the actual “movement o f consciousness” itself and this will be the place, accordingly, t o formulate some preliminary hypothesis about the sense i n which such transitions are “necessary” and “Inherent i n the process” and i n what sense a new form is “more adequate” than the form i t replaces.

a. Sense-Certainty: Hegel's Revenge (on Russell) All our knowledge, both knowledge o f things and knowledge o f truths, upon acquaintance as its foundation. —B. Russell, The Problems

rests

of Philosophy

T h e Phenomenology begins w i t h the form o f consciousness Hegel calls “sense-certainty,” o u r immediate sensory contact w i t h objects, mere

acquaintance without any apprehension whatever. The “certainty” o f sense-certainty Is n o t the certainty o f a philosopher s u r e o f his o r her arguments; i t is t h e n a i v e c e r t a i n t y o f a n o v i c e w h o h a s n o t y e t e v e n

thought about t h e question, “ W h a t d o we k n o w a n d h o w d o we k n o w 3. I t w o u l d b e equally absurd, however, t o i n t e r p r e t H e g e l as a n atavistic o n t o l o -

gist, r e t u r n i n g t o ancient philosophers for either his problems o r the answers to them. T h e t u r n o f the 1 9 t h c e n t u r y was r i c h i n both new f o r m u l a t i o n s o f the problems a n d novel answers. T o give Plato a n d Aristotle a greater place i n the first p a r t o f the P G t h a n empiricism and K a n t i s s u r e l y unfair t o H e g e l ' s o w n k e e n s e n s e o f modernity a n d “the

spirit o f

t h e t i m e s . ” C f . R o s e n , G.W.F. Hegel, a n d Stace, The Philosophy o f Hegel ( N e w

York: D o v e r , 1955).

322

Hitching the Highway of Despair

it?” I t is, i n other words, the particularly unsophisticated standpoint o f common sense—the average incoming college freshman—ready for his first football game and wholly unaware that, before he gets t o the stadium, his philosophy instructor will convince him that the world with all its footballs m a y b e n o t h i n g b u t a mere appearance.

Hegel does n o t talk about “common sense” i n the chapter, but he has already told u s many times, i n both the Preface and the Introduction, that the Phenomenology will begin with “natural consciousness.” I n what sense is i t “natural”? I n just this sense, that i t is “naive”; i t 1s unthinking; i t takes what i t sees as obvious. One might object that the idea of “natural consciousness” (along with “common sense” and “ordinary language”) is nothing but a myth, a postulation o f effete intellectuals concerning the naiveté o f the ho: polloi. One might argue that common sense is i n fact n o t so epistemologically simple-minded, that

“sense-certainty” is an

extreme

view. And o n e might also object that

the Phenomenology could m fact start w i t h other forms, even m o r e “naive” and “natural,” for instance, the section o n “desire” in chapter

4 or the primitive, “unreflective” family life a t the beginning o f chapter 6 . B u t Hegel begins, a n d we will b e g i n with h i m , w i t h t h e suppo-

sition that there is a common view o f knowledge as simple receptivity,

“immediate apprehension” of an object which is simply given t o us. Sense-certainty is n o t just unsophisticated common sense, however. Realism—the view that the world is just “there,” a presence which 1s given t o us, has been defended by some extremely sophisticated philosophers, including G.E. Moore and Bertrand Russell, J.L. Austin i n Sense and Sensibilia, Jean-Paul Sartre i n Being and Nothingness, and by American philosophers Roy Wood Sellars, George Santayana, Arthur Lovejoy, and others i n their Essays ın Critical Realism (1920). They were by no means “naive,” but they nonetheless defended the kind o f claim Hegel attacks in “Sense-Certainty.” But even among the realists there 1s some disagreement about what i t 1s that is “given” t o us. For the “naive” realist, i t 1s the “ f u r n i t u r e o f the world,” that is, trees, tables, mountains, molehills, houses, dogs, cockroaches, toys, sports cars, people, stars, and daily newspapers. F o r the m o r e sophisticated “crit-

ical” realist, we are n o t given objects simpliciter, but rather objects from a perspective, partial sensory facts which need interpretation and synthesis. More limited still are the sensory “data” given t o us accord-

ing t o the classical empiricists and Kant, who argued that what we immediately receive are just sensations—Kant’s “manifold of intuition,” Hume's “impressions,” Locke’ “sensations.” Such restricted views are emphatically not “idealist” rather than “realist”; idealism (as i n

Consciousness and the Dialectic

323

Berkeley) adds t o this view of sensations as “the given” the additional claim that there are n o “objects” outside o f us which are the physical

cause or the basis of these sensations, that the objects o f our experience are “ideas.” B u t what 1s obvious ın Locke, i n H u m e a n d i n K a n t

1s that they all subscribe t o causal theories of knowledge and accept the idea o f objects “outside” o f us, even if, as i n H u m e , we cannot prove their existence a n d even if, as i n Kant, the object “ i n itself” is

nothing but an “unknown x,” beyond the limits of knowledge.* A view falls under the rubric “Sense-Certainty” for Hegel i f i t accepts the idea that something—some “object” —is immediately given t o consciousness, w i t h o u t any contribution from the understanding.

“Sense-Certainty” c u t s across the categories “realism” and “idealism” and embraces a broad spectrum o f philosophical positions—including the entire mainstream of British epistemology from John Locke t o Bertrand Russell and A.J]. Ayer—as well as the “naive” certainty o f a n i n t r o d u c t o r y philosophy student w h o has n o t yet begun to t h i n k

philosophically. What these positions share is their belief that something particular is given to us immediately through the senses as the foundation of our knowledge of the world. The point of Hegel's attack is t o establish once and for all right a t the very beginning the importance o f thought and language even t o basic perception. Nothing is simply “given,” according t o Hegel. F o r Kant, the manifold o f intuition was given, b u t we provided the concepts o f understanding which are nec-

essary for intuition t o be knowledge. Fichte and Schelling both disagreed and claimed t o make Kant’s philosophy consistent by eliminating the passive reception o f sensations, thus eliminating the object (noumenon) which causes us to have these sensations. I n the Preface

o f his Science of Logic, Hegel writes: The critical philosophy has indeed turned metaphysics into logic, but—as already mentioned—like the later idealism i t shied a t the object, and gave t o logical determinations an essentially subjective signification; thus b o t h the critical philosophy a n d the later idealism 4. Kant has a particularly ambiguous view o f the “object,” analogous with his equivocal t r e a t m e n t o f Truth, criticized by Hegel i n the Introduction. O n the one hand, the only object is the object as we know i t ; synthesized from the manifold o f intuition; o n t h e o t h e r h a n d , there is t h e object as cause o f t h e m a n i f o l d o f i n t u i t i o n . Fichte, accord-

ingly, sees the need

to

choose between these contradictory positions and gives u p the

idea o f objects as causes. H u m e is also equivocal about the idea o f objects as external causes, h o w e v e r ; h e can’t m a k e sense o f i t , b u t his theory sometimes requires it.

5. I t 1s i m p o r t a n t t o keep this s p e c t r u m o f positions i n mind. Hegel is demonstrably arguing against all o f them. I n “Sense-Certainty,” Hegel wants t o refute the idea that objects are simply “given” t o us, whether this view is common-sense o r technical

philosophy, and whether the “givens” i n question are the objects o f the world which we see “outside o f us” o r the “sense data” o f modern empiricism.

Hitching the Hıghway of Despair

324

remained saddled with the Object they shunned, and for Kant a “thing-in-itself, for Fichte a n abiding “resistance principle” was left over as an inconquerable other.®

I t 1s the point o f “Sense-Certainty” t o eliminate this “other,” t o campaign against the whole pre-Kantian epistemological tradition and K a n t too, w h o still assumed i n some sense that something h a d to b e

given I n consciousness as a foundation for knowledge. This meant in t u r n that there had t o be something other than consciousness t o do the giving.’ One more target o f “Sense-Certainty” deserves mention before we move on t o the presentation and argument itself; n o t only Fichte and Schelling but Jacobi and an enormous number o f Romantics were o f the opinion that one could gain knowledge of the Absolute n o t through “the Concept” (that is, by way o f articulation and argument) but by immediate intuiton. Hegel attacks this view in the Preface, but “SenseCertainty” provides a more specific argument: one cannot gain knowledge without concepts and without a c o n t e x t defined b y concepts. ( T h e argument is repeated once again, u n d e r the guise o f ancient sun-worship, i n chapter 7, b u t the idea 1s the same. Religious

knowledge is n o t just “seeing the light;” it requires thinking about it too). Sense-certainty is the view that knowledge is “immediate” —that is, un-mediated b y concepts; i t is the view that we can gain knowledge b y

ap-prehending (auffassen) an object without com-prehending (begre:fen) 1t through the concepts o f the understanding (90). I t is important t o stress that this is a view o f knowledge rather than an actual form of consciousness i n the sense that we will encounter later, that 1s, a real1izable m o d e o f living, a set o f concepts which i n fact structure o u r

daily experience. I t 1s the common-sense view of knowledge, n o t the content of everyday cognition. This results i n a certain peculiarity, which is that “Sense-Certainty,” i n so far as it can and does articulate a position, 1s n o t sense-certainty, which would be wholly articulate. The claim, of course, is that ordinary knowing 1s certain i n just this sense, b u t Hegel will argue that there c a n n o t be any such m o d e o f 6 . Science of Logic, Preface. I t is p a r t i c u l a r l y i m p o r t a n t t o s t r e s s a g a i n t h a t Hegel is n o t arguing a g a i n s t a n y p a r t i c u l a r philosopher, b u t r a t h e r this set o f claims, i n s o f a r as i t enters i n t o a n y philosophy. Thus t h e a r g u m e n t o f c h a p t e r 1 constitutes a n a r g u m e n t a g a i n s t K a n t ’ s notion o f passive sensation, but n o t against his theory o f understanding, which will be picked

7.

u p i n chapter 3. I t is an argument against the first premise o f Locke’s empiricism, but i t is n o t an argument against Locke’s views o f substance, which will be picked u p i n

chapter 2. A n d though there are aspects o f the argument that might apply his philosophy does n o t really appear until chapters 4 and 5.

to

Fichte,

Consciousness and the Dialectic

325

k n o w i n g at all. I f there is a form o f consciousness o f any k i n d , it is defined b y its concepts a n d therefore articulate, so sense-certainty 1s

ruled o u t o f existence from the s t a r t . But this 1s a key claim t o be demonstrated, n o t just asserted. The primary proponent o f “sense-certainty” i n our century is Bertrand Russell, who, in addition t o fitting Hegel's characterization o f this position i n an almost uncanny way, also provides a deserving foil for Hegel's arguments—given his m o s t unfair t r e a t m e n t of Hegel i n his History of Western Philosophy i n which he accuses him o f thinking that “only minds and mental e v e n t s exist.”® I n his autobiographical reflections, too, Russell confuses Hegel w i t h F.H. Bradley a n d seems to miss t h e p o i n t o f Hegel's argument, which is so effectively directed

against him. I n Russell's admirably clear defense o f sense-certainty, objects are given t o us, b u t they are given t o us through “sense data,” which are

the objects o f immediate knowledge. They are the immediate objects o f our acquaintance; We shall say that we have acquaintance with anything of which we are directly aware, without the intermediary o f any process of inference or any knowledge o f (abstract) truths.®

T h e objects o f o u r immediate acquaintance are what he calls “sensedata,” literally, the “given” i n sense, which make u p the appearance of the table—its color, shape, hardness, smoothness, etc; all these things o f which I a m immediately

conscious when I am seeing and touching my table.!¢

Knowing truths about the table may require inferences and the synthesis o f this varied information, but, so far as concerns the knowledge o f the color i t s e l f . . . I know the

color completely and perfectly when I see it, and no further knowledge of i t itself is even theoretically possible. Thus the sense data which make u p the appearance o f my table are things with which I have acquaintance, things immediately known t o mejust as they are."

I t 1s this position, and others akin t o 1t, that are represented and a t tacked i n “Sense-Certainty.” The crucial phrase for the attack, i n Russell’s account, is that “ I know the color completely and perfectly when I see it, and no further knowledge o f it itself is even theoretically 8. 9. 10. 11.

Bertrand Russell, A History of Western Philosophy, ch. 16. Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London, 1912), p. 46. Ibid. I b i d , p. 47.

326

Hitching the Highway of Despair

possible.” This 1s “certainty” o f one’s “sense,” indeed, and the target o f Hegel’s attack will be precisely this supposed impossibility o f “further knowledge”; . sense-certainty . . . appears

to

be the richest kind of knowledge

. . . the truest knowledge . . . [ i t ] has the object before i t i n its perfect

entirety. But . . . this very certainty proves itself and poorest truth. (Phenomenology, 91)

to

be the

most

ab-

stract

W h e t h e r o r n o t Russell ever read h i s Hegel, i t is almost as i f per im-

possible, Hegel knew his Russell. The theory o f knowledge o f “SenseCertainty” has an ontological correlate: i t is also a theory about the nature o f reality, namely, that what are most real are particular ob-

jects. . . . the object is: i t Is what is t r u e , or i t is the essence. I t is, regardless o f whether i t is k n o w n o r n o t ; a n d i t remains even i f i t is n o t k n o w n ,

whereas there is no knowledge i f the object is

not

there. (Phenome-

nology, 93)

The ontological correlate becomes problematic for the empiricist, for i t is unclear whether it is particular physical objects “outside o f u s ” o r particular sensory data that are t o b e given this status. Moreover, I t 1s n o t clear what i t would be for a sensation to exist “whether

i t 1s known o r not,” since there is a t least one powerful line o f argument

[Wittgenstein et al.]

to

the effect that t o have a sensation is

to

k n o w o f its existence. B u t whether the particular objects are physical

or mental, Hegel's ontological point against sense-certainty will be that particulars are not most real, that all particulars, mountains as well as sensations, are transient, a n d what is real—that is—what endures, 1s

the concept. Notice that Hegel has adopted an ancient conception o f “real” that very much conflicts with the dialectical spirit o f his philosophy; namely, reality is that which is nmeless and endures. But we shall find o u t that concepts don’t endure either, for the basic lesson o f the Phenomenology 1s that o u r conceptions o f o u r experience (Including our theories o f knowledge) and the reality that we experience are inseparably one, a n d the vicissitudes o f one are inevitably mani-

fested i n the other.!? 12. Ironically, this was a lesson well-learned b y Hegel's posthumous nemesis, Sgren K i e r k e g a a r d : “Concepts, l i k e individuals, have their histories a n d are just as incapable

o f withstanding the ravages of time as are individuals” (The Concept of Irony, t r a n s . L.M. Chapel ( B l o o m i n g t o n : I n d i a n a Univ. Press, 1968), p . 47). Hegel, however, resisted this, a n d i n t h e Logic h e i s quite explicit t h a t concepts ( a n d t h e C o n c e p t ) d o n o t c h a n g e , a n d

i t is because they do n o t change that they—not particulars—deserve the title “most real.” Hegel's way o f putting this point i n the PG is rather amusing; Even animals a r e not s h u t o u t from this wisdom bul, o n t h e contrary, show themselves t o b e most

profoundly initiated into it; for they do not just stand idly i n front o f sensuous things as i f these possessed intrinsic being, but, despairing o f their realily, and completely assured o f their nothingness, they f a l l t o w i t h o u t c e r e m o n y a n d eat t h e m u p . (109)

Consciousness and the Dialectic

327

Sense-Certainty, however, cannot be considered a world-view, a way of conceiving o f reality and knowledge as such; i t is just a theory, n o t a possible way o f seeing things (which 1s why i t is wholly inadequate as a theory). This is n o t t o say, however, that there could n o t be a consciousness something like what is described i n “Sense-Certainty.” One might imagine a radical phenomenologist trying t o “reduce” all experience t o raw sensory givens, perhaps through an enormous dose o f psychedelic drugs. But then one would have t o say t o this phenomenologist, after he has returned n o t t o but from his senses, that he d i d n o t thereby come to know anything a t all. H e h a d n o t gotten closer

but farther from his experience; indeed, i n any cognitive sense, he had obliterated his experience altogether, for according t o Hegel, as to

well as K a n t , n o t h i n g p r i o r to conceptualization even deserves

the name. There is a singularly spectacular literary example o f sense-certainty, the protagonist Meursault i n Camus’s The Stranger. H e does n o t even see, much less comprehend, most of what goes on around him. H u m a n behavior is, to h i m , a flat facade o f performances, w i t h o u t sig-

nificance, devoid o f interpretation. The old lizard-like Salamano viciously beats his mangy yelping dog, the pimp Raymond brutalizes his Arab girlfriend, her brother sets o u t t o kill him, and Meursault looks on as i f he were watching a dull movie. I t is all simply given t o him, as the facts o f his experience. H e does n o t try t o understand; he does n o t think that there 1s anything t o understand, and Camus, i n a retrospective interpretation o f his own novel, declares Meursault a “hero o f the truth” precisely because he does n o t try t o “make” any more o f his experience than the p u r e sensory given o f the sun, the

smell o f brine on his pillow, the glare o f a knife-blade stinging his eyeballs. B u t even so, Meursault destroys his o w n pretensions because, o f necessity, h e 1s also the narrator o f the book, a n d so must

describe his experiences. The descriptions are brilliantly minimal (a la Hemingway) but nevertheless descriptions. There are no uninterpreted experiences, 1s the Kantian-Hegelian conclusion; sense certainty is n o t only an inadequate form o f consciousness; it could n o t possibly be a form o f consciousness a t all.!? There is one defense o f sense-certainty that has such overwhelming plausibility that i t tends t o blind us t o further arguments. Namely, 13. A n American example o f this sense-certain consciousness would be Benji i n Faulkner's The Sound and The Fury. Even more than Meursault, Benji does n o t distinguish memories from perceptions, t h e m e r e l y immediate from the significant. B u t even h e , like Meursault, i n e v i t a b l y i m p o s e s his ( r a t h e r b i z a r r e ) c o n c e p t u a l i z a t i o n s o n his a n d s o fails t o fall i n t o pure s e n s e - c e r t a i n t y . (Cf. my “ L ’ E t r a n g e r a n d t h e

experience,

T r u t h , ” Philosophy and Literature, vol. 2, n o . 1, Oct. 1978).

328

Hatching the Highway of Despair

i t is only i n direct apprehension o f an object that one really experiences i t ; a description picks o u t certain features a n d neglects all t h e

others, b u t acquaintance presents us w i t h the “object i n its entirety” (91). Thus “ a picture is worth a thousand words” b u t being there 1s

worth a thousand pictures. There 1s all the difference i n the world between actually meeting someone and having him described t o you, even b y a novelist whose descriptions exactly capture the ‘essence’ o f the person. There 1s all the difference i n experience (as well as cost)

between spending a week i n Paris and just reading about i t i n a brochure, a n d it is n o t j u s t a n embarrassment o f grammar that “carnal

knowledge” has often been considered the “richest . . . truest” form o f personal knowledge through “acquaintance” o f a particularly intimate variety. N o number o f facts and descriptions can take its place.

Thus Russell argued against the Hegelians that their world was “thin a n d logical” while his was rich and sensuous; h e thought that they

were wholly caught u p i n descriptions, while he was concerned with our immediate c o n t a c t with the wealthy array o f sensations. Who could deny that description without acquaintance is an impoverished s o r t o f knowledge? W h o would n o t abuse a philosopher (as

Hegel abused Schelling) who sought life i n concepts instead o f confrontations? But there 1s, Hegel is arguing, a certain fraud being perpetrated upon us here. Descriptions detached from acquaintance may indeed be impoverished and, i n any case, n o t “the object i n its perfect entirety” But it does n o t follow that acquaintance itself 1s mere acquaintance, devoid o f concepts and prior t o comprehension. Indeed, acquaintance w i t h o u t comprehension, as i n o u r radical phenomen o t have a battle experience by being i n the middle o f a battle i f one does n o t know that there

nologist above, is nothing a t all. One does

is a battle going o n ; thus Stendhal’s Fabrizio, mucking through the m u d at Waterloo w i t h a few stray bullets whizzing over his head, wonders despairingly i f there is a battle going on, and i f so whether h e is

missing it.'* One has n o t yet m e t the artist i f one merely happens t o bump into him unknowingly a t an exhibition. Acquaintance is n o t enough; knowledge always involves interpretation and cognition. Hegel’s argument goes one step further; there is no “given” element i n experience prior t o all interpretation. There are no foundations t o knowledge; “There are no facts, only interpretations,” is the thesis here, expressed succinctly by Nietzsche three-quarters o f a century later. !> 14. Stendhal, The Charterhouse of Parma (Chartreuse de Parme), c h . 2.

15. Neither Hegel n o r Nietzsche is denying that we have sensory experience, b u t they are v a s t l y weakening t h e c o n c e p t o f t h e given s u c h t h a t , w h a t e v e r w e p a s s i v e l y r e c e i v e t h r o u g h o u r senses, i t c o u n t s f o r v i r t u a l l y

nothing a t

a l l u n t i l i t is p r o c e s s e d

by

Consciousness and the Dialectic

329

I n the chapter “Sense-Certainty”, the three voices of the Phenomenology are discernible, though they are n o t clearly distinguished. There 1s the defender o f sense-certainty as a theory of knowledge—Bertrand Russell, let us say ( i n o r d e r to provide the m o s t competent de-

fense counsel). Then there is our prosecutor Hegel, who 1s speaking “for us” and is o u t t o show how hopeless a view sense-certainty Is.

And then there is a third voice, barely articulate, which 1s the hypothetical voice o f a consciousness which actually does experience the world as sense-certainty, i n direct confrontation with objects which i t refuses t o d e s c r i b e t o u s or, for t h a t matter, t o i t s e l f (for t h i s w o u l d

break the “immediacy” o f sense-certainty). The third voice, by the very n a t u r e o f the case, is limited to mere indexicals, such as “this,”

and the philosophical equivalent o f a grunt—inarticulate p o i n t i n g'®. This gives the chapter a certain oddness, namely, that consciousness cannot describe itself. The theory thus postulates that consciousness refuses (for the same reason) t o describe its contents, a n d this means

that Hegel, pursuing sense-certainty only t o find that “it” will n o t defend itself, m u s t have us “take u p its position ourselves” i n order t o refute it. Now this is a move that has either been ignored or neglected by a large number o f commentators, from Feuerbach i n the last century t o Lowith and Taylor only recently!’ I t is argued that Hegel’s attack o n sense-certainty 1s essentially based o n the fact that sense-certainty c a n n o t or will n o t say anything, and knowledge requires something t o b e said.'® B u t i f this were Hegel's argument (and this is about all that the understanding. For Nietzsche, the wide variety o f possible interpretations yields a n equally wide variety o f experiences. L i k e Quine i n this century, Nietzsche holds that

our experience is “underdetermined” by our sensory “data.” Hegel, however, resists this conclusion; indeed, he sometimes seems t o suggest that given vastly different sensory inputs, the universality o f o u r concepts would nevertheless yield similar experiences o f the same world; i n other words, o u r experience 1s overdetermined by o u r c o n c e p t s . B u t i n these authors, t h e a t t a c k o n “ t h e given” is a n a t t a c k o n t h e idea t h a t

uninterpreted sensations or intuitions can be the unquestionable basis of our knowledge. T h e strongest version o f “ t h e given” and sense-certainty, o n this reading, is the Jacobian intuitionist claim that we can get an intuitive understanding o f the Absolute i t s e l f , p r i o r t o a n y i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o r c o n c e p t u a l i z a t i o n . ( I a m i n d e b t e d t o B i l l d e Vries

for this point, and for his insightful reading of this chapter.) 16. Hegel's w o r d is “meinen,” t o “ m e a n ” as i n “ I mean this one.”

17. Ludwig Feuerbach, Principles of the Philosophy of the Future, t r a n s . M . H . Vogel (Indianapolis; Bobbs-Merrill, 1966); Karl Lowith, “Mediation and Immediacy i n Hegel, M a r x a n d Feuerbach,” trans. K . R . Dove, i n Steinkraus (ed.), New Studies i n Hegel's Phi-

losophy (New York; Holt Rinehart and Winston, 1971); Charles Taylor, Hegel, esp. p. 141f.; A n excellent discussion and refutation o f the Feuerbach and Lowith arguments—which we shall discuss shortly—is Martin De Nys, “Sense Certainty and Universality: Hegel's Entrance into the PG,” International Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 18, no. 4 (December 1978). I once m a d e this e r r o r i n m y From Rationalism to Existentialism ( N e w York: H a r p e r a n d Row, 1972). 1 8 . T a y l o r : “ . . . [Hegel] t r e a t s t h e ability t o say as o n e o f t h e c r i t e r i a l properties o f

k n o w i n g . A n d i t is h a r d n o t t o agree w i t h h i m (Hegel, p . 141). B u t (1) t h e a r g u m e n t

Hitching the Highway of Despair

330

we get i n t h e Preface), i t would be clearly effectual, and i t would d o

what Hegel always insists that we m u s t not do, namely, apply a criterion t o a form o f consciousness which is n o t already “internal” t o it, which i t does n o t itself accept. I f sense-certainty insists that knowledge does n o t require description, i t is n o t a refutation i f we insist that i t does. Sense-certainty can make its case, o r a t least make the

confrontation a stalemate, by just shutting up, and this 1s what it does (104 and 105). ( I t says, i n effect, “I know what I ' m pointing t o , even i f I can’t express it.”) This 1s n o t the argument. Hegel's attack is rather based on what sense-certainty (that is, Russells theoretical voice) assures us must be the case, that sense-certainty (the hypothetical consciousness) is capable of identifying particular objects without the “mediation” of concepts (93). I n other words, i t 1s the pointing gesture, the word “this,” that is shown t o be n o t a t all what i t seems. Even inarticulate pointing (whether for someone else o r simply picking o u t an object for one-

self) requires the definition o f a context, the identification o f the particular t h i n g through its name, o r its properties, the conception we

have o f i t as opposed

to

other things both like and unlike it. Hegel's

argument, which goes through several twists and turns, is essentially the argument that even p o i n t i n g and mere acquaintance require concepts as conditions o f their possibility. T h e twists and t u r n s are an attempt at completeness; Hegel first attacks the idea that one can pick o u t particular objects, then attacks the idea t h a t one can even pick o u t particular objects for consciousness (like Russell's “sense data”), and then,

when sense-certainty objects that such arguments are a n unfair atbegs t h e

question, as T a y l o r s u s p e c t s b u t dismisses t o o easily—". . . a r e we n o t violating o u r m e t h o d , a n d importing ideas, information, theories from outside o r d i n a r y con-

sciousness? Hegel clearly does not think so here” (ibid.). B u t the demand to say is indeed imported, n o t into “ordinary consciousness” (taken as subject-matter) but surely into the theory o f sense-certainty. (2) T h e r e is m u c h that is k n o w n that cannot be said, for t o ride a

example, knowing how t o do something. (What can you say about your ability

bicycle?) A n d (3) there are things that can be said o f a system that i t c a n n o t say o f itself,

and

not

only i n this particular case. Gédel and Russell have argued the dilemmas o f

self-reference a t sufficient length so that we, i n reading Hegel, should be extremely appreciative o f t h e f a c t t h a t t h e several voices o f t h e P G d o n o t a l l h a v e t h e s a m e c a p a c -

ity, and that i n almost every form o f consciousness, there will be the very real question about

what i c a n say a b o u t i t s e l f as o p p o s e d t o w h a t w e ( w i t h Hegel) c a n say a b o u t it.

O n this point i n Taylor, see also Ivan Soll, “Taylor's Hegel,” Journal of Philosophy, November 4, 1976. O n point number 3, there is a n obvious implication regarding Hegel's “absolute” standpoint a t the end o f the PG, which attempts t o talk with complete clarity a b o u t itself. According t o Godel, i n p a r t i c u l a r , o n e thing a c l o s e d system cannot s a y of itself is that i t is “complete.” Thus absolute knowing cannot say o f itself that i t is absolute. O f course, Hegel fudges o n this issue by calling the Absolute “infinite” —that is, wholly self-enclosed (or open?) as well as complete—but this is word play (learned from S c h e l l i n g a n d t h e poets). A n d i f o n e insists o n “Infinity” o n e w o u l d h a v e t o say t h a t i t

is, despite Hegel's disclaimers i n the Logic, a perpetually incomplete infinity, and i n any case, a n infinity that cannot k n o w itself as such.

331

Consciousness and the Dialectic

t e m p t to “mediate” its knowledge, Hegel attacks the idea that the ex-

perience itself (“my-knowing-something”)

cannot

refer

to

any partic-

ular either (103-107). A t this point, sense-certainty decides i t is better t o say nothing, and Hegel “takes u p ” the position for himself. H e then repeats the arguments again, this time n o t against sense-certainty

so much as through phenomenology, trying t o see for himself (ourselves) whether such particulars can be identified. Can we pick o u t a

particular just by pointing, without invoking concepts? But the essence o f the argument, in every twist and turn, 1s essentially the same—

the impossibility o f picking o u t particulars without concepts. But again, what Hegel seems t o say, and what almost every commentator takes h i m to be saying, turns a very strong argument i n t o a n elementary fallacy. A s Hegel states t h e argument, i t seems as i f his

objection t o sense-certainty’s use o f such demonstratives as “this” (and “here,” “ I ” , a n d “ n o w ” which are its “components”) 1s that they claim t o be particulars, but are really (and can be shown t o be) universals. Thus Hegel concludes again and again that “it is in fact the universal that 1s the truth of sense-certainty,” (“das Allgemeine ist also in der Tat

das Wahre der Sinnlichen Gewissheit”) (96). (Again i n 103,107-9, and 110.) T h e argument, simply stated, is that we try t o p o i n t o u t a “ t h i s ” (or a “here” o r a “now) b u t find that we c a n n o t distinguish one “this” from a n o t h e r “ t h i s , ” s i n c e “ t h i s ” c a n b e u s e d t o refer t o a n y t h i n g

whatever. B u t this i n itself is a b a d argument. First o f all, i t does n o t

make sufhciently clear that i t is n o t just the impossibility o f saying what the “this” refers t o that is a t stake, i n which case sense-certainty can again insist that n o t being able t o say is n o t the same as n o t knowing.

Second, i t lends itself t o the argument advanced by Feuerbach and Lowith that what Hegel is fallaciously doing here 1s attacking a certain claim about the word “this” (and others like it) instead of making the point he thinks he is making about the n a t u r e of experience. Thus Feuerbach argues that “the beginning o f the Phenomenology 1s nothing other t h a n the contradiction between the word, which 1s general, and

the object, which is always a particular. And the idea that relies only on the word will n o t overcome this contradiction. Just as the word is n o t the object, so is the being that is spoken or ideated not real being.” 1 ° So t o o argues Lowith: “Actual being is a definite existence, here and n o w ; t h o u g h t a n d w o r d are abstractly u n i v e r s a l ” ? Hegel does n o t state his argument well; his frequent m u d d l i n g o f “ T h i s ” and ““This’”

(“Now” and “‘Now’”) betrays his own confusion. All sensory being, Hegel tells us in the Logic, is particular; all thought 19. Feuerbach, p. 61, quoted by D e Nys, p. 449. 20. Lowith, p. 132.

332

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

and language, even words such as “this,” are universal. Indeed he defines for us the all-important concept o f a “universal” (Allgemeine)

i n this chapter, as “neither This n o r That, a not-This, and is with equal indifference This as well as That” (96). This 1s n o t as clear as one would l i k e , b u t i t i s a s t a n d a r d definition; a “ u n i v e r s a l ” c a n b e a p r o p -

erty, a concept or a proposition; all remain identical in and can be defined independently of all particular instances or manifestations o f i t . Words (that i s , their types, n o t t h e i r t o k e n occurences) are “untversals” (“dog,” for example) because they can be used t o refer t o any number o f particulars (dogs). Proper names are the exception here, for a t least i n theory a proper name, e.g. “Socrates” o r “Walter Win-

chell,” refers

to

one and only one particular. For Hegel and many

philosophers, properties (such as being red) are universals, since any number o f objects can have the same property (be the same color, red). So when Hegel tells us that “this” is a universal, either he is saying

something uninteresting which has nothing whatever t o do with the particularity o f the object, only with words i n general, or he 1s saying something that is false, namely, that “this,” considered as a proper name I n a particular (sensory) c o n t e x t , does n o t designate a particular

object (“the sensuous This that is

meant

cannot be reached by lan-

guage” (110)2!). Perhaps h e was indeed confused b y these issues, b u t if we are to read h i m generously, there is a much m o r e powerful

argument In waiting. I n fact, Hegel's argument is extremely familiar t o readers o f r e c e n t Anglo-American philosophy. I t is a contextualist argument, that the designation o f particulars presupposes a context in which reference (whether by pointing, grunting, saying “this,” or providing some more elaborate phrase—e.g. “the man i n the white suit”) is defined. This definition, i n turn, is made possible by concepts, by some prior understanding o f what kind o f thing is being pointed t o . But sensecertainty cannot, because i t refuses to apply concepts, k n o w what kind o f t h i n g i t is p o i n t i n g t o a n d so, Hegel tells us, it can k n o w only that “ i t zs, the sheer being o f i t ” (91). B u t even here, i t 1s impossible to

point t o “the sheer being” of a particular thing; suppose I point over there, t o that thing. What am I indicating?—the shoe? the pair o f shoes? the fly o n the toe o f t h e shoe? the green spot o n the head o f

the fly? your feet? the corner o f the room? O r have I suddenly, with the Romantics, been struck w i t h a vision o f the Absolute? I f I cannot

do anything more than point, i f I cannot apply concepts—even for 21. ]J.N. Findlay: “Wittgenstein w o u l d regard Hegel’s treatment as resting o n a misu n d e r s t a n d i n g o f demonstratives, w h i c h are u n i q u e linguistic instruments, a n d n e i t h e r n a m e n o r describe” ( i n his “Analysis o f the Text,” p . 510).

Consciousness and the Dialectic

333

myself—then I cannot refer t o anything ın particular, nor can I point t o everything (the Absolute) either. My pointing is entirely “underdetermined” .22 The obvious comparison here 1s W. V. O . Quine’s well-known argument concerning the “radical indeterminability o f translation,” a n d

though the c o n t e x t and intention o f the arguments differ, the illustration and initial point are the same; a sheer p o i n t i n g gesture, Q u i n e argues, o r even a word ( i n a language we d o n o t know) is insuthcient t o let us know whether a person is indicating a rabbit, a part o f a

rabbit, or a “rabbit-phase”—a rabbit in a certain state a t a certain time. Similar arguments can be found throughout Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations, including such mathematical examples as “Continue the series ‘2,4,8 . . / ” , i n which Wittgenstein immediately blocks the “obvious” answer (16) b y reminding us that we have n o a prior:

right t o presume that we know the rule o f the series. Indeed, without knowing the rule, or what Hegel would call the Concept, the “universal,” one has n o idea what the next number m i g h t be, o r what the

series 1s. Knowing presupposes knowing rules, which means, using concepts, which means, k n o w i n g the universals which pick o u t the

particulars. Perhaps the most striking similarity between Hegels argument here and contemporary analytic philosophy 1s the resemblance o f Hegel's attack t o the onslaught against Russellian sense data by Wittgenstein (who was also a t one time Russells ally i n these matters) i n his so-

called “Private Language Argument.” The “argument” (in fact a series o f provocations that were later formed i n t o an argument by Witt-

genstein’s students) expounded the problem Hegel raised i n the I n troduction—the problem of how t o find a criterion for knowledge, i n this case, for the identification and re-identification o r particular sen-

sations or sense-data, “private objects” o f any sort. Suppose you have a sensation, call i t “ S ” ; h o w would y o u k n o w i f another sensation is the same? Since n o o n e else can share the experience, n o one else could

possibly help you. You appeal t o memory (“Is this one like the last one?”) b u t y o u aren’t sure whether t o trust yourself. You adopt a criterion, a rule for identification o f “S;” but then you're n o t sure whether 22. T h e r e is a confusion here that needs t o be pointed o u t . H e g e l (PG, 92) points o u t t h a t t h e o b j e c t , c o n t r a r y t o t h e c l a i m s o f s e n s e - c e r t a i n t y , c a n n o t b e “unmediated,”

since i t depends on my being conscious of it, and my being conscious o f it depends on its being there. But notice that this only makes clear sense i f the “object” i n question is somehow sense-dependent; moreover, Hegel has shifted the meaning o f “mediation” from “conceptualized” t o “independent.” This should be a warning o f what is t o come. Elsewhere i n this chapter, the same w o r d means “ i n d i v i d u a t e d , ” “separated,” a n d “div i d e d u p ” (96).

23. Quine, Word and Object, ch. 4.

334

Hatching the Highway of Despair

you've applied or remembered the criterion correctly. I n short, Wittgenstein concludes, there can be no knowledge o f such “private objects” because there is n o sense i n which one could ever be proved t o be wrong, and i f one cannot be wrong, so his argument goes, one c a n n o t be said t o be right either. Hegel's argument is much the same, though what he says applies n o t only t o “private” objects but t o any objects a t all, so long as they are supposedly known “immediately,” by inarticulate acquaintance. His notion o f the criterion 1s much abbreviated, since providing a rule for identification would already b e a breach o f sense-certainty. B u t the argument itself follows much the same logic; one thinks one knows a particular, b u t one cannot identify i t . O n e labels i t “ T h i s ” b u t then

has n o way o f keeping track o f what “This” refers t o . And this means t h a t o n e d o e s n o t k n o w a n y t h i n g a t all, for i f o n e d o e s n ’ t mean a n y -

t h i n g i n particular, one c a n n o t be wrong, o r r i g h t about i t either.

This argument against the possibility o f identifying particulars has nothing t o do with the demand that one must be able t o say what it is one knows o r w i t h the peculiarity o f the indexical demonstrative words (“this,” “ h e r e , ” a n d “now”).2* I t has to d o w i t h the use o f universals a t

the very basis o f experience, as a necessary condition for o u r being

able t o pick o u t particular objects. I t has nothing t o do, as Taylor says, with “having to say something just to get started,” n o r is i t Q u e n t i n Lauer’ msistence that “ a thought that cannot be expressed 1s an empty thought.”#>

Russell, i n the development o f his “logical atomism,” builds the entire edifice o f human knowledge o n a group o f “atomic facts,” which are mirrored (truly o r falsely) b y “atomic propositions.” T h e atomic facts are sense data; the atomic propositions are unembellished descriptions o f the sense data, such as “red patch here now.” I t 1s shghtly more than a “this,” and Hegel would insist that the word “ r e d ” here

is already something more than sense-certainty will allow. (As the name o f a property it is clearly a “universal”, and so too 1s the property.)

B u t Hegel's strategy 1s obvious, and Russell fits the claims o f sensecertainty far better than any proponent o f empiricism Hegel could have known. Hegel takes a piece o f this claim, the “now” and asks, 24. One might add that Hegel does take for granted the converse of “one m u s t say i f o n e knows,” namely, “ o n e must be able to say i f o n e knows.” Hegel, l i k e Kant, assumes t h a t a p p l y i n g c e r t a i n c o n c e p t s a n d u s i n g c e r t a i n w o r d s a r e o n e a n d t h e same, t h a t t h e l a t t e r “expresses” t h e former (though t h e former t a k e s p l a c e prior t o a n d o f t e n w i t h o u t t h e l a t t e r t o o ) . See, for example, t h e p r e f a c e t o t h e s e c o n d edition o f t h e Science of Logic,

p. 31f. 25. A Reading o f 1976), p. 44.

Hegel's Phenomenology o f Spirit

(New York; Fordham Univ. Press,

Consciousness and the Dialectic

335

“What is N o w ? ” , let us answer, e.g. “ N o w is N i g h t . ” I n order to test

the truth of sense-certainty a simple experiment will suffice. We write down this truth; a truth c a n n o t lose anything by being written down, any more than i t can lose anything through our preserving it. I f now, this n o o n , we look again a t the written truth we shall have t o say that it has become stale. (Phenomenology, 95)

I n other words, i t is false. What Hegel is not arguing here is t h a t truth b e said, m u c h less written down. H e is insisting that a truth, #f said a n d w r i t t e n d o w n , m u s t b e t r u e “umelessly,” or, at least, n o t just

must

for the moment. Philosophers more sophisticated than Hegel have devised techniques for answering this requirement, for example, Quine’s “eternal sentences” i n which the “now” m u s t be replaced by an e x a c t specification of the time and all indexicals replaced by definite descriptions. But the point is clear; the word “now” c a n n o t be specified without appealing t o a conceptual apparatus of enormous complexity, namely, our entire system of time and record keeping. B u t without t h a t , “now” doesn’t refer a t all, since n o sooner do I say “now” than the instant has passed, and i t is n o longer “now” (106). The argument is again familiar, and philosophers have suggested some enormously complicated and outrageous suggestions

to

try

to

answer Hegel’s query, from introducing the notion of the “specious present” t o the suggestion t h a t time 1s “unreal” (argued by some of Hegel's British followers, notably McTaggart??). But Hegel's aim is simply t o show that the word “now” picks o u t a particular m o m e n t only by “mediating” experience, Le. by invoking our whole system o f t i m e c o n c e p t s . T h e r e i s n o w n o w t o b e referred t o ; “ n o w ” 1s a concept,

a postulation o f a complex theory, and o u t o f context, apart from this complex system o f universals, the word “now” 1s utterly meaningless (106-7). (1) I point o u t the “Now” and it is asserted t o be the truth. I point i t o u t , however, as something t h a t has been . . . 1 set aside t h e first truth.

(2) I now has been,

assert

as the second truth that i t has been . . . (3) But what

ws not;

I set aside the second truth, its having been, a n d

thereby negate the negation o f the “Now,” and thus r e t u r n t o the first assertion, that the “Now” is. The “Now,” and the pointing o u t the “Now,” are thus so constituted that neither the one n o r the o t h e r

is something immediate and simple, but a m o v e m e n t that contains its various moments. . . . The pointing-out o f the Now is thus itself the m o v e m e n t which expresses what the N o w is i n truth, viz. a result,

or a plurality o f Nows all taken together; and the pointing-out 1s the experience of learning that Now is a universal. (107) 26. G.E.M.E. McTaggart, Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1901).

336

Hitching the Highway of Despair

The “negation o f the negation” here (in Hegel’s famous phrase) is n o t the logicians familiar (and controversial) thesis that “not(not p)=p.” I t 1s rather (what will become a familiar move i n the Phenomenology) a

denial of particularity—first the denial of one particularlity (not Now) and then the denial o f any other particular as well (not that Now either). T h e result, couched awkwardly b y Hegel as the claim that N o w (or “Now”?) 1s a universal, 1s instead the claim that one can have n o con-

ception o f particular moments without some conception of our whole conceptual apparatus for comprehending time and distinguishing one m o m e n t from another.?’” A n d vis-a-vis Russell, this means that one component o f his atomic proposition, “red patch here n o w ” does n o t

refer t o an atomic fact a t all but rather presupposes the whole o f o u r temporal-conceptual apparatus. The same argument 1s repeated for “Here” and Here (98, 104 and 108)?%. The property red as well as the concept “red,” we have already noted, would be considered by Hegel to b e universal. (Russell, at least at one p o i n t i n his career, considered

properties

to

be particulars.) But the point has been made and made

effectively; Russell's atomic propositions d o n o t refer to particulars;

they do n o t refer t o anything a t all. Isolated propositions do n o t refer; people refer, by asserting propositions in a determinate context with the entire conceptual apparatus o f the language (the Concept) behind them.“ What has Hegel shown? H e has n o t shown and he has n o t tried t o show that we never know particular objects; or that knowledge is something other than the senses, “ i n the realm of the pure Concept.” Indeed, t w o points seem t o o obvious for him t o have t o state,—that o u r knowledge does include the knowledge o f particulars a n d that all

o f o u r knowledge has its basis i n sensory experience. H e has only argued that our identification and knowledge of particulars does n o t precede but presupposes our knowledge of universals—our use o f language a n d o u r ability to apply concepts, and that whatever the

sensory basis o f knowledge may be, there are no uninterpreted (un2 7 . This i s n o t t o say, o f course, t h a t o n e m u s t h a v e m a s t e r e d t h e h a r d concepts o f astrophysics i n o r d e r t o k n o w w h a t time it is; b u t i t i s t o s a y t h a t o n e m u s t have some conception o f the apparatus with which we measure time even t o use the word “now.” (When a barely verbal i n f a n t screams, “ I w a n t i t now!”—is n o t h i n g presupposed?) 2 8 . T h e argument i s n o t e x a c t l y t h e same, s i n c e t i m e a n d space a r e disanalogous. Hegel, like Kant, takes time t o be more fundamental, and space t o be derived from our i n t u i t i o n s a n d concepts o f time. 29. One s e t o f arguments I have n o t mentioned is Hegel's application o f the same s t r a t e g y t o t h e “1,” t h e knowing self t h a t i s a l s o assumed t o be reference t o a particular.

The paradigm example, o f course, is Descartes’s Cogito, “ I think.” Hegel argues here, but only i n a preliminary way, that one c a n n o t simply refer t o one’s Self either

(91,101,103), that “1” is everyone” (102). This will be picked u p i n chapter 4 (166).

Consciousness and the Dialectic

337

conceptualized) experiences (e.g. sensa data) and, even i f there were, there could be no knowledge o f them without concepts and interpretation. But does this mean that such elements might exist apart from o u r knowledge o f them? I believe that Hegel is saying, “No,” that such

“elementary” objects come into existence—as some physicists now suspect their elementary particles come into existence—only because we create them i n o u r analysis. A n d this is t r u e n o t only o f “sense data,” which are the empiricists’ postulations rather than, as they claim,

the immediate objects o f experience; i t is also t r u e o f particular physical objects “outside o f us,” which are supposed by “common sense” consciousness t o be there, “ i n themselves,” independently o f our perceiving them. This does n o t mean that there 1s nothing “out there”; o n the contrary, we begin w i t h the certainty—unchallenged except

for the sophistry o f the sceptic and his alhes—that it is all “out there,” i f this phrase means anything a t all. B u t the indubitable existence o f the world is n o t yet knowledge; the nature o f the world is still i n

question and still “indeterminate.” The “presence” of the world is never i n question for Hegel. B u t i t is here for us, a n d i t 1s present only as

what we make o f it, through our various “determinations” (Bestimmungen).>”

b. Sense-Certainty to Perception. The First “Dialectical” Movement For the explanation o f sense, the readiest method certainly is t o refer t o its external source—the organs o f sense. But t o name the organ does n o t help much t o explain what is apprehended by it. The real distinction between sense and thought lies i n this—that the essential feature o f the sensible is individuality. . . .It will be shown in the Logic that thought (which is universal) is n o t a mere opposite o f sense. . . Language is the work o f thought; and hence all that is expressed by language m u s t be universal . . . I c a n n o t say what I merely mean. And the unutterable—feeling or sensation—far from being the highest truth, is the m o s t unimportant and u n t r u e . —Hegel, Logic 30. We m i g h t n o t e one more time that this over-all thesis, that there are n o “given” particulars, n o t even sensations, comes directly from Fichte. This is one o f the main

points o f his Wissenschaftslehre o f 1794, which Hegel had reviewed i n 1801, and the entire first third o f his popular Vocation ofM a n in 1800 (which Hegel ignored but surely knew). I t was Fichte who formulated the argument directly against Kant: t o introduce a “given” is t o introduce something caused from without experience; b u t this means that there are causes n o t constituted through the categories, which is impossible. Fichte’s

solution, followed by Schelling and Hegel, is

to

develop a different kind o f

account,

a

non-causal account, o f the m o r e passive aspects o f experience. B u t Hegel gives Fichte n o credit for this.

338

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

Sense-certainty, Hegel concludes, is a view o f knowledge which does not account for knowledge; its putative content is “unutterable,” “ u n true, irrational a n d what is merely meant” (das Unwahre, Unverniinftige, bloss Gemeinte) ( 1 1 0 ) . What is wrong w i t h sense-certainty is not

the fact that it is concerned with sense or confident o f its certainty so much as its very specific claim t o the immediacy o f knowledge o f particulars. B u t what Hegel shows is that insofar as sense 1s immediate,

i t c a n n o t be knowledge a t all, and there is nothing t o be certain about. Sense-certainty claims with confidence that it “knows particulars,” 1s “immediately acquainted” with objects prior t o thought and concepts, but Hegel shows that this is precisely what sense certainty c a n n o t do, namely, identify and reidentify particulars without the aid of “universals”” Thus he tells us, somewhat misleadingly, that the “truth of sensecertainty” is “ t h e universal” (107, 109, 110, and 111). B u t this does not mean that from here o n we will dispense w i t h sense and cease t o

consider particulars as objects o f knowledge. I t means only that neither sense n o r individual objects (including sensations) are t o be considered as given prior to the attempt o f consciousness to understand them. I n answer to Pilate’s casual question, “What is truth?”, and i n

answer too t o Heidegger's obsessive question, “What is Being?”, Hegel’s simple answer is, “nothing i n particular” The breakdown o f sense-certainty, however, ought t o be described i n a special way, according to a long line o f tradition, as a “contradic-

tion,” n o t just a collapse or a display o f inadequacy but an o u t and o u t inconsistency. Hegel does n o t do this, a t least, n o t i n the logically precise form that is often expected o f h i m . H e does, however, say that

what is said t o be “most true” is “untrue,” that what is supposed t o give us particulars instead gives us universals, and that sense-certainty, instead o f being the “richest” is instead the “poorest” form o f knowledge. B u t none o f these counts as a genuine logical contradiction.

Hegel also argues a number o f paradoxes, notably his controversial claim that language—which consists o f universals—cannot therefore refer t o particulars. (The contemporary point would be: language doesn’t refer; people use language to refer.) B u t this isn’t a contradict i o n either. O n e could formulate such a contradiction, perhaps, b u t

the point would better be made that the “breakdowns” that affect the various forms o f consciousness i n the Phenomenology are hardly ever flat-out logical contradictions as such. What we get instead are diffi-

culties o f various sorts; and the dithculty with sense-certainty is that i t cannot, as a theory o f knowledge, d o what i t claims t o be able t o 31. Cf.

the characterization

in

t h e Logic, sec.

20, q u o t e d

above.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

339

do—namely, give an account o f knowledge and, i n particular, how we come to know particular objects.

The “form o f consciousness” which follows “sense-certainty,” therefore, is another theory o f knowledge, one which will hopefully correct these inadequacies a n d give us what sense-certainty could not give us, a n adequate account o f the way i n which we come t o know particular

objects. This is “perception” (die Wahrnehmung), and i t approaches the problem of the identification o f particulars “from the other side” so t o speak; i t begins with what has been established by the end o f chapt e r 1, that knowledge is “mediated” by universals.3> We perceive things with properties,” not a mere “ T h i s ” . Perception still insists, commonsensically, that what we k n o w are particular things. I n d e e d this is the

criterion o f “perception” as i t was o f “sense-certainty” (111). The question then becomes, how can we designate a particular thing i f what we know immediately are its properties? Properties too are uni-

versals and, as universals, do n o t and cannot themselves refer t o anything particular (Remember that Hegel's characterization o f a “universal” (96) takes this “indifference” t o particulars as the defining feature o f die Allgemeinheit, “universality.”) I n one sense, “Perception” also gives us a common-sense theory; knowledge consists o f o u r perception o f a t h i n g which has properties, and i t is through the properties that we come to know the thing. I n sofar as “Perception” is also a common-sense view—(1) there 1s n o one theory o f knowledge that deserves t o call itself “natural consciousness” o r “common sense” a n d , ( 2 ) sense-certainty i s n o t t h e only

starting point for the Phenomenology, even within these first chapters. Common sense is a n amalgam o f half-digested views, a n d the Phenom-

enology is concerned with all o f them. But i t 1s the idea o f a “thing with properties,” which is ingrained i n the very subject-predicate s t r u c t u r e o f our language (“the dog is blue”), and this is what leads us t o trouble i n “Perception.” T h e properties are “universals,” that is, sharable with

other things: the “thing” is a particular. We can’t conceive o f (much less per-ceive) the thing without its properties, but properties are properties, after all, only because they are properties of some thing or other. A n d with this common-sensical starting point we find ourselves launched into one o f the m o s t complex ontological discussions t o be found throughout the entire history o f Western philosophy. 3 2 . H e r e a g a i n w e see the s l i p p a g e i n H e g e l ' s u s e o f the k e y t e r m , “ m e d i a t i o n . ”

Usually, mediation involves t h e application o f concepts, b u t h e r e i n “ P e r c e p t i o n ” c o n cepts have n o t y e t entered the picture. By chapter 3, we will be able t o say that knowledge o f particulars is mediated by concepts, b u t here we are limited to n o t i n g that k n o w l e d g e o f particulars is n o t immediate—that 1s, n o t identifiable w i t h o u t first identi-

fying something else ( t h e

cluster

o f properties).

340

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

From a philosophical point o f view, the theory presented i n “Perception” is an eclectic combination of a number o f ancient and modern philosophical theories: Plato’s problematic notion o f the “participation” of particulars in the “Forms” (which are universals); Aristotle’ invention o f the concept o f “substance” as “that which, while remaining the same, is capable o f admitting contrary properties”; John Locke’ attack o n the same notion, reducing substance to the “ I know not

what” i n which properties adhere; and the idealism of Bishop George Berkeley and Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz, who argued i n very different ways that a particular thing is nothing but its properties. This is the theory o f “Perception,” that a particular thing is a “cluster” o f properties, a “simple togetherness.” T h e chapter itself is a n epistemological-ontological argument, between those who take properties (or “Forms”) t o be most real (Plato)

and those who insist on the primacy o f substance, without which there would be no “Forms” (Aristotle). We can rephrase our question, then— H o w can we identfy particular objects i n the cluster o f properties which make i t up? O r else—How can we pick o u t a “cluster” o f prop-

erties? One 1s tempted t o say, “Because they are all properties o f the same thing,” but this would be begging the question since it is the cluster that identifies the thing. And this is where the age-old dispute about substances becomes an issue; how do the universals give us a particular thing? D o we not need some sense o f “substance” —that is,

the thing itself, a “bare” particular, as the basis for the adherence o f properties? Does i t make sense, Locke asked, to speak about a set o f

properties without presuming that they are also the properties of something that is other than the properties? B u t does i t make sense according t o Locke's own “empiricist” method, Berkeley asked i n turn, t o speak of a “something” that by its very n a t u r e c a n n o t be known through experience? And so we recognize the various forms of a dialectic o f “Perception” that Hegel is playing off against each other: the Platonic view that what are real are universals (the Forms) and the Aristotelean view that what are real are i n d i v i d u a l substances; the

Lockean suspicion that some notion o f substance is necessary t o identify particular clusters o f properties (as the properties of a particular

thing) and the Berkelian idealist challenge that no such notion o f substance is even intelligible. So far, we have only given Hegels general characterization of “universal” as “indifference” to particulars. B u t we have already distinguished two sorts o f universals: concepts are universals, “uncondi-

tioned” universals. Properties are also universals, but they are, Hegel says, conditioned universals, that 1s, “conditioned” b y the senses (113,

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

341

1 2 3 ) . Red is a property, a conditioned universal, “indifferent” t o particulars (any number o f things i n the world can be the same shade o f red) b u t “conditioned” by the contingent fact that we see certain

wave lengths o f light because our eyes are so constructed. More problematically, the shape o f a thing is a property, a conditioned universal;

any number o f objects can share the same shape, but our knowledge o f the shape o f things, unlike our knowledge o f their color, depends o n several senses (vision a n d touch as well as o u r sense o f time a n d

motion). Thus Locke called shape a “primary” property (inherent i n the object) and color a “secondary” property (inherent rather i n us). Berkeley, using Locke’s own arguments against him, showed that “primary” properties might just as well be “in us” as the “secondary” properties. B u t b o t h sorts o f properties are conditioned universals, common to any number o f particular things and conditioned b y the senses (119).

The problem o f “Perception” is that perception, while i t seems t o be a single, coherent view o f objects, i n fact embodies a number o f contradictory views. “Perception” confidently claims t o correct the ınadequacies o f “Sense-Certainty” i n accounting for the identity o f particular “things”, b u t i n fact i t “deceives” itself into believing this (116),

and the chapter is therefore subtitled, oddly, “Die Ding und die Tauschung” (The Thing and the Deception). We have already pointed o u t how the chapter r u n s through a dispute that can be found at least

twice across a t w o thousand-year span—in Plato and Aristotle and i n Locke and Berkeley—with many variations i n Medieval philosophy too. B u t Hegel's o w n summary negotiates a three-part model which cuts across the somewhat v a s t differences between the ancient a n d

Medieval ontological disputes and the modern epistemological argum e n t . “The Thing” is: (a) an indifferent, passive universality, the Also o f the many properties o r r a t h e r “matters”;

(b) negation, equally simply; or the One, which excludes opposite properties; and (c) the many properties themselves, the relation o f the first two mo-

. . . singular individuality in the medium o f subsistence radiating forth into plurality. (115) ments

There 1s no simple identification o f these three views; the first and second clearly call up the ancient metaphysical dispute between “the One and the Many”, b u t they also reflect certain distinctively modern 33. “Unconditioned universals” are the subject-matter o f chapter 3 o f the PG; Hegel has mainly i n m i n d Kant’s a priori concepts, o r categories. A concept o f a property (e.g. “red”) would still be “conditioned” by the senses, o r what Kant would call an “empirical

concept.”

342

Hıtching the Highway of Despair

epistemological concerns. The first view might be taken t o refer t o the views o f some o f the pre-Socratic philosophers, but many modern metaphysicians too, who believed that “the Thing” o f substance was

nothing but underlying “stuff,” in which the various sensible properties adhered. The second view certainly bears a resemblance t o Locke, who believed that substance was nothing but the “negation” o f the sensible properties, plus the minimal claim that these properties belong to one and the same thing, but i t also clearly refers t o Plato, who argues (fallaciously) i n The Republic that i f a t h i n g has contrary attributes, i t must be two things, not one. T h e third view might be that o f

Aristotle, who believed that individual substance n o t only underlies b u t animates the various attributes o f a thing, b u t i t would also seem t o represent the views o f Leibniz, who certainly believed that “the many properties” are the perceived properties o f an individual monad,

and that the monads themselves constitute a “plurality” of substances. But the third view might also include Bishop Berkeley, who argued against Locke that there is nothing but the set o f properties, and that set o f properties is the t h i n g . The three views turn on three different components o f what seems to be simply common sense—that the object o f knowledge is a thing

with properties. But is “the Thing” something other than its properties (a bare particular)? O r merely a space-time coordinate where the

“community o f properties” have their meeting? O r is i t literally nothing a t all? And i n any case, i f there is any distinction a t all between the thing and its properties, why c a n n o t a thing have contradictory properties, white a n d black ( i n the same spot at the same time)? We

(those o f us who have been following Hegel) have been aware all along that this common-sense synthesis o f views was self-contradictory (117), b u t n o w “Perception” becomes aware o f i t too (117-18).

We shall see several key forms of argument repeated i n Hegel's Phenomenology, and perhaps one o f his favorite arguments is this one: declare a form or its object t o be x, and then show i t t o be y; then show that the y is really an x after all. This is particularly evident in these first t w o chapters; sense-certainty claims that the object is a bare particular, a n d Hegel shows us t h a t i t is “really” a universal ( o r at least, all we seem to get ahold o f are universals). Now, “Perception”

begins with the idea that the object is made u p of universals, and Hegel shows us that one c a n n o t make sense of this without beginning with the notion o f a particular. T h e internal arguments are m u c h the same: sense-certainty cannot distinguish particulars because i t has only 3 4 . I n Hegel's t e r m s , L o c k e b e l i e v e d that substance, since i t c o u l d n o t b e p e r c e i v e d

as such, 1s a “ d e t e r m i n a t e N o t h i n g ” (113). F o r Berkeley, o n the o t h e r hand, i t is simply nothing.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

343

universals a t its disposal t o do so; perception c a n n o t distinguish particulars either, insofar as properties—as universals—are necessarily n o t bound t o a particular. We shall see this play-off o f universals and particulars, i n a variety o f contexts, throughout the arguments o f the

Phenomenology. The attempt a t correcting the conflict within “Perception” is, again, an eclectic conglomeration o f historical moves, including Locke’s distinction o f primary and secondary qualities (119) and the empiricistKantian view that the unity of the various properties is not t o be found i n “the Thing” but rather in us, the “responsibility o f consciousn e s s ” (119-22). B u t zt (“the T h i n g ” ) is distinguished b y its properties,

and so perception (in empiricism, for example), finds itself torn now only between different views o f “the Thing and its properties” but also between the view that the unity is t o be found i n things and the view that the unity o f things is rather t o be found i n consciousness (122). We combine the various properties—perceived as sensations— not

into a unity, says Locke, b u t does that mean that those properties are

also the properties o f the Thing? Some properties are “in” things, he says, namely, “primary” properties, but “secondary” properties are not.

I n what sense are the properties o f a thing, then, truly properties

of the thing? I t 1s a t this point that the dialectic o f “ t h e T h i n g a n d its Properties”

clearly becomes the province o f German philosophy, i n the philosophy o f Leibniz (who knew and corresponded with John Locke i n England). The problem o f the identity o f “the Thing,” whether as substance i n the world or space-time coordinates or merely a sum o f properties, is resolved by an ingenious metaphysical picture according t o which the substances themselves are simple immaterial unities, called monads, whose primary activity is called “Perception” (Wahrnehmung).>®> T h e r e are a plurality o f such monads, b u t each one, Leibniz insists, is simple. What we “perceive,” however, is a “multiplicity i n the unity”;%¢ i n fact, each monad perceives the entire universe within i t -

self.3” This means that Leibniz, like Locke and Berkeley, denies the existence of physical substances as such. But Leibniz (like Berkeley) also rejects the nouon o f physical space and time, “outside o f us,” and so the identity o f a thing cannot be its space-time coordinates either. Neither 1s Leibniz willing t o settle for the simple Berkelian alternative, the idea that a thing is nothing but its properties; instead, Leibniz argues that a particular thing is t o be identified by its relationships t o 35. Leibniz, Monadology, i n The Rationalists ( N e w York; Doubleday, 1966), Proposition 14.

36. Monadology, Prop. 16. 37. Monadology, Prop. 62.

344

Hitching the Highway of Despatr

other things: I n fact, space and time are defined i n terms of these relationships t00.%® The problem that arises on this account is the problem that 1s called “the identity o f indiscernibles.” Hegel discusses it, obliquely o f course (124-28). O n the one hand, things consist o f relations (“the Thing is n o t just for itself; i t is also for another” (123)). O n the other hand, i t 1s still a different thing, which has “its essential difference within its own self.” The tension now shifts from “opposition i n the thing itself” (between the three views stated above) to the autonomy o f the object,

“for itself.” What i f t w o things shared all the same properues, and stood i n a precisely symmetrical relationship t o each other? Would there still be two objects, o r would there be b u t one? C o m m o n sense seems to tell us that, o f course, there would still be two o f them, two

remarkably similar objects, but separate just the same. But matters a r e n o t so simple.

This problem o f the “identity o f indiscernibles” 1s, How could there be t w o objects which are exactly the same? Hegel calls this the “absolute difference” between them (124), that is, their difference despite the fact that they share all properties i n common. But, you might suppose, i f they are still two things, then they necessarily differ i n at

least one set o f properties, namely, their space-time coordinates. That is,

¢f

one also accepts the idea that there is a n “absolute” set o f such

coordinates, independent o f the relationships between things—and this is just what Leibniz denies. I n practice, perhaps, one can always find some third object which will provide a set o f coordinates (“the

penny t o the left o f the lamp,” “the s t a r 30 degrees off the starboard”); but i n theory, consider a universe containing just t w o objects with all the same properties, say—two red perfect spheres.*® Are they distinguishable? No. Not only do they have all properties i n common such as “red” and “spherical” (non-relational properties) but they also (necessarily) share symmetrically all of their relational properties. There is n o such designation as “ t h e one to the left,” since either o f them

can equally be “ o n the left.” (We are n o t yet introducing an implicit

third factor, namely, the position o f the observer; this Heisenbergian complication 1s far beyond the bounds of “Perception,” even though Leibniz himself insisted that God was always such an observer, as well as the creator, o f the world.) Neither can we specify the distance between

the t w o objects—say “twenty feet apart,” for what would c o u n t

38. We shall say something more about this conflict between Leibniz and Newton in our discussion o f chapter 3, “Force and the Understanding.” 39. The example belongs t o E d Allaire, Freudian o v e r t o n e s notwithstanding. A similar case can be made for two white squares (Herbert Hochberg’s preference).

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

345

as a “foot”? Lewis Carroll's Tweedledum and Tweedledee are a playful example o f the identity o f indiscernibles, and so are T o m Stop-

pards Rosenkranz and Guildenstern. The problem for them all is that they cannot tell one from the other, because there is n o difference between them. B u t then, we have once again lost o u r commonsense starting point—that we can pick out particular objects even i f they share their properties (which are, after all, universals). Leibniz

himself solved this problem by invoking God, who would do nothing without a “sufficient reason,”’*® and would have n o reason for duplicating; therefore there are n o two monads and n o t w o things i n nature w h i c h are t h e same.*! B u t this 1s not good e n o u g h for Hegel. I f G o d were n o t so frugal, the identity o f indiscernibles would still be a

problem.** Even i f i n fact no t w o things have all the same properties, identification o f a thing by reference t o properties alone (whether relational o r non-relational) leads to yet another absurdity: namely, that a t h i n g would n o t be the same ı f even a single property were changed, n o

how “inessential” (124). This, Hegel tells us, is the ultimate “undoing of the Thing”, that is, the undoing of the theory of knowl-

matter

edge called “Perception” (125). Surely a thing might remain the same

thing with a slight change i n properties. My car with a small dent i n i t still remains the same car. Moreover, Hegel points out (114), a thing is also defined by the properties i t does not have. H o w can this be

accounted for by “Perception?” Leibniz, a t this point, insists that God, at

least, sees every property o f a thing as essential and every propo-

sition about a thing (including negative propositions) as necessarily true.*® B u t for us, the theory o f “Perception” raises the same problems that we found i n “Sense-Certainty”; we c a n n o t pick o u t particular objects. Either we have t o pick out only a n exact set o f properties, a n d since things change some properties every m o m e n t , we could

never identify the same thing twice (as Heraclitus commented about 40. Monadology, Prop. 32. 41. Monadology, P r o p . 9 .

42. Ivan Soll, i n his generally insightful book o n Hegel, glosses over these problems

with the assurance that “a complex enough combination o f universals may apply

to

only one t h i n g ” (An Introduction to Hegel's Metaphysics (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago Press,

1969), p. 103.) I t is worth noting that these arguments also tell against F.H. Bradley and the British Idealists with whom Hegel is often confused i n the Anglo-American literature prior t o only a few years ago. 43%. A n a w k w a r d L e i b n i z i a n m o v e w h i c h leads Russell, to the h o r r o r o f his ontolo-

gical colleagues, propositions.

(He

t o i n t r o d u c e t h e n o t i o n “ n e g a t i v e facts” t o correspond t o negative later withdrew t h e m o v e . ) B u t t h e same p o i n t has remained i n t a c t in

Continental philosophy, particularly i n the Heideggerian concept o f “The Nothing” (An Introduction to Metaphysics, t r a n s . R. Mannheim (New H a v e n : Yale Univ. Press, 1959) and Sartre’s “Nothingness” ( i n Being and Nothingness, trans. Barnes, (New York: Philo-

sophical Library, 1956), esp. ch. 2.)

346 rivers). Or, we

Hitching the Highway ofDespair cannot

distinguish a set of properties a t all without

some prior conception o f the thing, just as sense-certainty could not

specity the thing prior t o some a c c o u n t o f its properties. I t is a t this point that Kant e n t e r s the picture. Although it 1s by no means the problem i n terms o f which he defines his first Critique, i t is

nevertheless the problem which occupies h i m through much o f the “transcendental analytic.” I t is the problem he calls “the problem o f synthesis.” I t is precisely the problem we have grappled with througho u t “Perception”—in Kant’s terms, how the manifold o f intuition gets

“gone through i n a certain way, taken u p and connected.” I n other words, how can a variety o f very different sensuous properties (some derived from sight, some from smell, some from hearing, touch, a n d

taste) be recognized as the properties o f the same thing?** Here Kant, a n d Hegel w i t h h i m , leaves the theory o f “Perception” a n d enters into a very different view, namely, that we contribute the concept o f subs t a n c e i n order t o constitute—not simply recognize—particular objects i n their causal and spatio-temporal relations with one another. Thus the “undoing” o f “Perception” is once again similar t o the

breakdown o f “Sense Certainty”: i n both cases, we (that 1s, the proponent o f the respective theory) assumed that something was given to

us—in chapter 1 the objects themselves and i n chapter 2 the object with all o f its properties. I n both cases, we assumed that these could be k n o w n “immediately,” that is, without any contribution from the

understanding, without conceptualization as a particular object o f a particular kind. And i n both cases, Hegel's reply is that nothing is simply given to us immediately through the senses. Experience requires con-

cepts— “unconditioned universals”—which consciousness provides. This is n o t at any point to deny that all o u r knowledge 1s sensuous. I t is only t o deny that nothing “originates in the sensuous” (129). What we

perceive is n o t simply based upon or inferred from the “data” o f the senses b u t already presupposes understanding. With this we should

shift into chapter 3, “Force and Understanding,” and a consideration o f what Hegel calls “the unconditioned universal.” B u t first, let us consider where we have been a n d what we have done.

44. O n e should object that Kant’s intuitions are particulars, n o t universals, and therefore n o t what Hegel is calling “properties.” B u t here one can also point o u t that

the s t a t u s o f properties has long been i n question: Russell once said t h a t properties are “repeatable particulars” and argued that the choice o f interpretations is a m a t t e r o f “temperament.”

Consciousness and the Dialectic

347

c. Dialectical Interlude:

The “Logic” of Hegel's Transition I f a man never contradicts himself, i t is because he never says anything. —Miguel de Unamuno

A detailed commentary o n “Perception” would require nothing less than a whole history of Western ontology, from the “problem o f the One and the Many” among the ancients t o the various debates about the empiricist program and the concept o f “substance” among the moderns. B u t what is o f m u c h more immediate concern t o us here—

mediated by our curiosity about Hegel's own intentions—is the relationship between chapters 1 and 2, “Sense-Certainty” and “Perception.” I t 1s said t o be a “necessary” transition, but i n what sense? I t is said t o be “a m o v e m e n t intrinsic t o consciousness.” What does this mean? The first step i n the translation 1s the breakdown of “Sense-Certainty.” We have already seen what this is, the fact that, as a theory o f knowledge, it c a n n o t do what i t claims t o be able t o do—to give an a c c o u n t o f our identification o f particular objects, through “immediate acquaintance.” I t is n o t a formal “contradiction,” perhaps, b u t i t is a

devastating inadequacy, and enough

to

force us t o give u p the theory

o r at least stop d e f e n d i n g i t . B u t must we, logically, move o n t o “Per-

ception”? T h e answer clearly seems t o be “No.” One could simply give

u p the theory o f knowledge, drop o u t o f philosophy the way so many undergraduates are doing, and proclaim profound indifference about the problem. One could stop defending sense-certainty but continue to believe i t , confident even i f without cause that i t 1s nevertheless t r u e : i t is only a Hegelian trick that has made i t seem otherwise.

One could take as the conclusion o f “Sense-Certainty” the view that

did indeed dominate

most

vides the second step in

o f the history of philosophy and still prophilosophy classes—scepiicism. One could

most

conclude, i n o t h e r words, that we cannot k n o w what knowledge is, o r that, i f we d o , we cannot k n o w whether o r not we know anything. B u t the step that Hegel takes a n d declares as “necessary” is none o f these. I t is rather a matter o f what Hegel calls “determinate negation,” i n 45. O n e need n o t stop d o i n g philosophy t o give u p its pursuits; i n fact, m u c h o f

modern philosophy has been continued by philosophers from Hume t o Wittgenstein who declared the entire discipline a mistake o r a “disease.” A n d yet they keep doing it—sometimes brilliantly—as i f t o cure themselves. I t is this view that Hegel so harshly c r i t i c i z e s as t h e “ d e s p a i r o f d o u b t ” a n d r i g h t l y chastises for b e i n g “anti-philosophical,”

even i f today i t has become “mainstream” philosophy.

348

Hitching the Highway of Despair

other words, a rejection o f sense-certainty that a t the same time suggests the acceptance o f another theory. A n d since sense-certainty broke

down precisely i n its claim t o know particulars and instead knew universals, the next “natural” move is to say that knowledge consists en-

tirely o f universals, through which one identifies particulars. “Determinate negation” is by no means unique entailment. We have just mentioned several other conclusions which “follow upon” “SenseCertainty” with just as much conviction as “Perception” —giving u p the project, giving u p the effort t o carry o u t the project oneself, concluding that the project is unworkable and retreating t o scepticism (“Indeterminate negation”). So what one might argue here is that if one resolves t o pursue the project (to formulate a n adequate theory

o f knowledge) then “Perception” follows “Sense-Certainty” as the “necessary” next step. B u t this turns o u t not to be the case either. O n e

might muddle on indefinitely, resolved t o find a way o f defending sense-certainty that will escape Hegels various objections; or one might leap right into Kant, concluding that i f particular objects aren’t given, then we m u s t i n some sense constitute them out o f the manifold o f

sensory intuition. One might conclude precociously that the problem i n “Sense-Certainty” was the fact that i t mentioned nothing about our relationships w i t h other people a n d that knowledge, having a n essen-

tial social dimension, requires such a sociological a c c o u n t before i t can explain how it is that individuals i n a linguistic community can refer to particular things through language. A n d indeed one might follow the troublesome arguments o f “Sense-Certainty” w i t h a k i n d o f mys-

ticism, Insisting that our knowledge is immedately o f the Absolute but that we cannot, b y the nature o f the case, make any distinctions within

the Absolute except i n some secondary and purely conventional way. And indeed, this was the viewpoint taken u p by several o f Hegel's contemporaries. I f the truth o f “Sense-Certainty” is that the truth is universal and one cannot immediately apprehend particulars, then why n o t suggest that we immediately apprehend the grandest universal of all? So even given the project of these early chapters (to pursue the theory of knowledge), “Perception” does n o t follow from “SenseCertainty.” There is n o strictly logical relationship t o be found there. One might conclude a t this point, as a great many commentators have (and i f n o t here, i n the next chapter o r the next) that Hegel just got it wrong and failed t o follow his o w n method—that is, assuming h e had a m e t h o d . O r else, j o i n i n g with another a r m y o f commentators, one might conclude that Hegel has n o proper method, that “ t h e

dialectic” 1s a myth and that the

trees

i n this Hegelian forest are in-

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

349

deed “arbitrary.” B u t “necessity” is n o t limited t o strictly logical relationships, and explaining the breakdown (“contradiction”) in “Sense-

Certainty” 1s n o t yet t o explain the “determinate negation” o f that form i n “Perception.” W h y perception? B u t even the best commen-

tators, having given us an admirably clear a c c o u n t o f the breakdown in chapter 1, take the movement into chapter 2 as self-explanatory: e.g. Charles Taylor—“move t o a fresh stage”*’; Quentin Lauer—“cry o u t for forward movement”*®; J N . Findlay—"it must pass over into P e r c e p t u a l Consciousness.” *® T h e question is, why m u s t w e so move,

so “pass over”. T h e dialectic has t w o steps: “contradiction” (or some form o f internal difficulties) a n d movement. T h e movement must be

explained too. One simple-minded alternative, the m o s t popular of all a priori, is t o suppose that “Perception” stands t o “Sense-Certainty” as its antıthesis (with “Force and Understanding” as their synthesis.) B u t 1t 1s by no means clear i n what sense an opposing antithesis necessarily follows from the denial o f a thesis. I t is t r u e that, by association, opposing theses remind us o f one another just as black reminds us o f white,

and tall reminds us o f short. “Idealism” is “naturally” paired with “realism,” and “free will” inevitably raises the question of “determinism.” But this hardly makes the transition from “Sense-Certainty” t o “Perception” necessary i n any sense, and the suggestion that this 1s the m o v e m e n t o f the Phenomenology threatens t o reduce the whole progression to a series o f free associations. A n d in any case, “Perception”

is n o t simply opposed t o “Sense-Certainty”; it shares its basic project— t o formulate an adequate theory o f knowing—and it shares its sense o f “the given,” though ın one case universals are given and in the other “bare” particulars. T h e y b o t h try t o make sense o f o u r knowl-

edge of particulars and, for similar reasons, both o f them fail. The “dialectic,” even i n this initial transition, is n o t thesis a n d antithesis,

nor synthesis either. A simply unsupportable suggestion, but one implied by a great many scholars who have suggested a general a c c o u n t o f the dialectic instead o f a specific analysis o f particular transitions, is that one form has just happened t o follow another i n the history o f the development o f Spirit. B u t nothing o f philosophical importance “just happens” for Hegel, a n d even i f such a historical account were plausible for some o f the 46. Findlay, Hegel, p . 93.

47. Taylor, Hegel, p. 134. 48. Lauer, A Reading, p . 53.

49. Findlay, Hegel, p. 89.

350

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

self-consciously historical transitions i n chapter 6, it 1s n o t even remotely plausible here. Hegel does n o t suppress all mention of particular philosophers for nothing, and it is clear that there is no single definitive sequence i n which the theory called “Perception” historically followed the theory called “Sense-Certainty.” N o doubt examples could be found (e.g. i n empiricism and Leibniz’s rationalism) but one could find just as many sequences i n which the order was precisely the opposite. I f the “necessity” that Hegel discusses i n the transition from form t o form is n o t i n any sense a logical entailment, perhaps it is rather a teleological necessity, necessary to get from one form t o another, i n order t o realize some ultimate purpose o r telos. A strong interpretation would be this,—that there is only one route t o get there, a n d so

every transition o n the r o u t e becomes necessary. O n this account, there is nothing in the transition itself between chapters 1 and 2 which would give us a clue t o the necessity o f that move; i t becomes apparent t o us

only when looking a t the project as a whole. Hegel sometimes talks this way (in the Preface and Introduction) but it has yet t o be made even remotely plausible, by Hegel or anyone else, that the path he traces i n the Phenomenology is i n any sense the only way t o get us to

think our way from common-sense certainty

to

“the Absolute.” Even

granting that there would have t o be some p a t h ( i f one is not, like the

Romantics, t o accomplish this task i n a single intuitive leap) there may be several, some o f which would bypass “Perception” altogether. A much weaker form o f the teleological interpretation would then b e this: given that the path must take some route, a n d that the route

Hegel chooses does i n fact go through “Perception,” the transition from “Sense-Certainty” t o “Perception” 1s necessary i n just that sense. B u t what sense? I n the sense that d r i v i n g over a single patch o f road 1s “necessary,” given that one has chosen t o take that road? O u r acc o u n t has degenerated into metaphors, and n o t very insightful metaphors a t that. What 1s left o u t o f the teleological account is precisely

what we are looking for, namely, the specific argument that carries us from chapter 1 to chapter 2, whatever we might also say about the

place o f that one transition and those t w o chapters i n the scope of the larger project, the self-realization o f Geist. Perhaps one o f the most philosophically insightful suggestions re-

garding these chapters and this transition was made by Charles Taylor, only hinted a t i n his big book5® but stated boldly and developed persuasively i n his earlier essay, “The Opening Arguments of Hegel's 50. Taylor, Hegel, p p . 127f£ a n d 140ff.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

351

Phenomenology.”* H e interprets the arguments from chapter 1 to 2 and from chapter 2 t o 3 as transcendental arguments, a le Kant. Such

arguments cannot always be translated into valid deductive argui n fact, the problem that philosophers have had with such ar-

ments;

guments ever since Kant is t r y i n g t o figure o u t i n what sense they are arguments at all. B u t K a n t surely t h o u g h t they were valid arguments, a n d it is n o t at all unreasonable to suppose that Hegel, i n so far as h e

understood them, thought that they were t o o . A transcendental argument establishes the necessary conditions for experience—or for a

certain kind o f experience. Those necessary conditions are such that, i f they are n o t realized, our experience would be very different from what i t is. Indeed, the transcendental conditions o f experience as such,

according t o Kant, are those without which we could have no experience whatever. Such conditions would include seeing things as substantial objects i n the world “outside” of us, seeing things i n causal relationships, seeing things i n space and through time and assuming that things remain what they are even when they are n o t being ex-

perienced by us. The transcendental arguments of the first Critique, accordingly, were arguments intended t o establish such conditions as

necessary for experience. F o r Kant, “necessary” was to b e taken i n a very strong sense; “nec-

essary” conditions were n o t only one s e t o f conditions without which experience would n o t be what it is (or would n o t be a t all); they were the only set o f conditions. Moreover, Kant introduced t w o different kinds of transcendental arguments, which he called “progressive” and “regressive”; the purpose o f the latter was t o demonstrate that a set o f conditions were indeed conditions: the former h a d the more difh-

cult task o f proving (or “deducing”) that these were the only possible set o f conditions and therefore “necessary.” The problem was that the t w o forms o f argument were not always easily distinguishable, for i t

was n o t always clear what counted as a demonstration that a set o f conditions was presupposed by experience and what counted as a “deduction” of the uniqueness and “necessity” o f those conditions. Moreover, there was a dangerous tendency t o waffle between “the possibility of experience (as such)” and “the possibility of experience o f a certain kind.” For example, i n Kant’s enormously complicated and confusing “transcendental deduction” o f the category o f “causa-

tion,’ the a r g u m e n t wobbles between the very s t r o n g claim that without causality we could have n o experience whatever, the weaker claim that without some orderly connections between experience we 51. Taylor, i n M a c I n t y r e , Hegel, p p . 1 5 1 - 8 7 .

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

352

could n o t have any knowledge, and the still weaker claim that, witho u t causality our experience would be very different from what it is. And since Leibniz, t o name one philosopher whose work Kant knew as well as his o w n , h a d argued a world-view that dispensed with m u c h o f what K a n t defined ( i n the strong sense) as causality, h e already knew a counter argument to (at least) his very strong claim. N o w what 1s presupposed, o r a t least accepted without question i n

the transcendental arguments that pervade the first t w o chapters of the Phenomenology, is the fact that we do have knowledge of—can pick out, identify and re-identify—particular objects. Taylor uses Wittgenstein and his private language argument as an example (which we discussed i n section a o f this chapter): The rock-bottom starting point o f Wittgenstein’s argument can be understood as this: that our concepts, being general, are used to reidentify fresh examples o f the s o r t o f thing that falls under them, t h a t a d i s t i n c t i o n m u s t t h u s b e p o s s i b l e b e t w e e n c o r r e c t a n d incor-

reidentification and hence right and wrong use of the t e r m . This i n t u r n founds the necessity o f criteria, and 1t 1s the supposed incapacity o f private ostensive definition t o provide criteria that justifies rect

its being swept aside as a picture o f experience and its relation to

language.”

I t is this notion o f the criterion that is central t o the Phenomenology too, the need for a “yardstick” (Maszstab) t o measure o u r experience; as a n o t i o n o f consciousness, i t [ a theory, as i n “Sense-Certainty” a n d

“Perception”]

must

contain an idea o f experience, o f what it is t o

know an object. Let us t r y to experience i n this way, t o have this k i n d

o f knowledge. I f i t

turns out

the effective experience guided by this

m o d e l contradicts i t , t h a t w e c a n n o t a t t a i n k n o w l e d g e i n t h i s way,

then 1t will be shown t o be impossible and will have t o be changed. We will make the changes that the contradiction revealed by this particular experience has shown t o be necessary, and this will yield us another notion o f consciousness with which t o s t a r t another test.“

This 1s Taylor’s c o n c r e t e suggestion, that the contradiction (that we found i n sense-certainty) will itself show us what more is needed for an adequate a c c o u n t . I n particular, what “Sense-Certainty” showed us was that we need “universals” in any such adequate account.” 52. 53. 54. 55.

Critique of Pure Reason, 2nd ed., p. 218. Taylor, i n Maclntyre, p . 153.

Ibid. 159.

Note that the “form o f consciousness” for Taylor is n o t primarily a theory (or “ n o t i o n ” ) o f knowledge b u t an actual attempt t o experience i n a certain way. I have argued, conversely, that the form 1s first o f all a theory which can (but need n o t always)

include a n a t t e m p t t o “live” t h a t t h e o r y . I n fact, t h e t w o characterizations are just o p posite sides o f the same philosophical coin, since Hegel is quite emphatic that the c o n ception (including o u r theories) and experience itself are co-determining. Thus every t h e o r y o f knowledge h a s as i t s c o r r e l a t e a n o n t o l o g y as well. B u t I think t h a t Taylor

Consciousness and the Dialectic

353

A transcendental argument, then, “ w i l l thus have t o start from u n -

deniable characteristics o f experience; and since it will go on from there t o show that the various inadequate models o f consciousness are incompatible w i t h these characteristics, which o n the contrary re-

quire other conceptions i f they are t o hold.” A t least i n the first chapters, Taylor tells us, “Hegel’s arguments can easily and convincingly be presented i n transcendental form” (160). Regarding the first chapter, Taylor's analysis is similar t o ours i n the preceding section: “there are two main ways i n which the attempt [to make sense-certainty say what i t “means”] takes us beyond the limits o f sensible certainty,”>¢

first, the fact that only through “selection” o f particulars can there be knowledge (one cannot “take i n everything,” says Taylor, without “falling over into unconsciousness, a trancelike stare” (163)). Second,

sense-certainty c a n n o t be “ i n immediate c o n t a c t with sensible particulars, without the mediation of general t e r m s , which n o t only introduce selectivity . . . but involve grasping the objects before us through aspects that they have i n common o r could have in common with other

things” (ibid). Notice that these t w o conclusions introduce the t w o main features of perception, namely, the continuing emphasis on the identification o f particulars as the criterion (Maszstab) for adequacy and the centrality o f properties (“aspects they have i n common o r could have i n common with other things”). T h u s we began o u r dis-

cussion of “Perception” with the cavalier announcement t h a t “Perception begins with what has been established by the end of chapter 1” and the new form o f consciousness, i n general, can be said t o follow the old i n just this way. The breakdown o f one form shows us quite specifically what more is needed for adequacy, and the “determinate negation” o f the first form is ipso facto the beginning of the new. We began with particulars, only t o find that one could n o t know particulars without knowing their properties, a n d so, i n chapter 2, we began

with “the Thing and its properties.” The relationships between these forms is supersession (das Aufheben), preserving the truth but negating its inadequacies (113). The first argument “sets the stage for the next.” Once we understand the “contradiction” in the first form, we will have

our starting point for the n e x t one. This is an extremely attractive theory; what is presupposed i n every case 1s that there is a s e t o f agreed u p o n “undeniable characteristics goes too far ( i n his Hegel, p . 133) w h e n h e says that w e “construct a reality t o meet the

standard”. This may well be the case in some subsequent forms i n the PG, but it does not seem plausiblé o n any interpretation here i n the first three chapters. 56. Note slight alteration i n the translation here; Taylor translates sinnliche Gewissheit

as “sensible certainty.” 57. Taylor, p. 168.

354

Hitching the Hıghway of Despair

o f experience,” and that the failure o f one form o f consciousness t o account for those characteristics will lead us t o another that will make u p for that failure. The first point is problematic, but one “undeniable characteristic” o f o u r knowing anything surely is that we can I n

some way (verbally, by pointing) pick o u t the particulars that we know, a n d sense-certainty fails to account for this.?® B u t does this failure so

readily carry us t o a new form which is its corrective, or has Hegel conveniently taken us there, n o t as a m a t t e r o f “necessity” but as a textual courtesy? I n other words, what serves as the conclusion o f a transcendental argument, i f what we are looking for are “the necessary conditions o f experience” a n d we already know that one constituent o f o u r experience is o u r ability to pick o u t particular objects? T h e basic form o f a “transcendental argument,” whose point is to prove that some feature o f consciousness is i n fact a “necessary con-

dition o f possible experience,” is something like this: (We) have a n experience w i t h (undeniable) characteristic a. (We) c o u l d n o t have a n experience w i t h a unless (our) conscious-

ness had feature B . Therefore, (our) consciousness has feature B . Characteristic a, for example, might be the ability to pick o u t par-

ticular objects, or seeing objects i n three-dimensional space. Feature B , for instance, might be the application o f the rules o f cause and effect to o u r every experience. Two problems present themselves i m -

mediately; one is the difficulty i n distinguishing the characteristic a from the feature o f consciousness B ; is o u r experience o f a single

three-dimensional space an (undeniable) characteristic o f experience o r a necessary feature o f consciousness? And i f this distinction 1s n o t clear, then the argument is already threatened with a vicious circularity; what we prove may just be a restatement o f what we begin by insisting 1s undeniable. Second, i t should be evident that the above argument form is “regressive,” not “progressive”; i t may prove that a certain feature B is necessary for characteristic a, b u t i t does not settle

the question whether (undeniable) characteristic a is itself a necessary 58. T h e problematic n a t u r e o f the seemingly innocent p o i n t about “undeniable

characteristics o f experience” emerges as soon as one suggests a candidate for such a characteristic that is n o t utterly banal. Kant insisted o n the unity o f consciousness, for

example, but even he admitted that this asserted very little o f substance and, o n any interesting interpretation, we can see that this ‘unity’ is n o t the case i n some counterexamples: Jekyll-and-Hyde schizophrenics, o r Anthony Quinton’s imaginative example o f the person whose dreams were sufficiently coherent and continuous that he experienced (one hesitates t o say ‘lived’) t w o complete but exclusive lives. I s three-dimensional

space a n “undeniable characteristic” o f experience? Indeed, is the ability t o pick particular objects—as opposed t o recognizing p a t t e r n s o r general t y p e s of events,

out for

example—an undeniable characteristic o f experience? Whose experience? ( A n d i f we

say simply “ours”, who is included i n the scope o f that possessive pronoun?)

Consciousness and the Dialectic

355

aspect o f experience, which is what Kant insisted on proving. The slippage between the supposedly “undeniable” characteristic of experience and the “necessary” feature t o be established allows for sufficient confusion, i n Kant’s “transcendental deduction o f the categories,” for instance, that the success o r even the exact form o f the argument 1s always i n question. Moreover, the criterion for “neces-

sity” i n Kant’s arguments is “the only possible,” such that a feature B

1s necessary as a condition for characteristic a i f it is the only possible feature which would allow for a. B u t this is a n extremely strong cri-

terion for necessity, and i t leaves open questions about the necessity o f co-conditions, pre-conditions for these conditions, a n d the possibility that, i n some very different context o r consciousness, what ap-

pears as a necessary condition for a may no longer be the only possible condition. ( I n a creature whose only sense was smell o r hearing, for example, the necessary conditions for the perception of space might be quite different than those i n a c r e a t u r e like ourselves whose primary senses are vision and kinaesthetics.) Indeed, the crucial twist i n Hegel's arguments is precisely this question o f alternative “forms o f consciousness” and different contexts, which require quite different sets o f necessary conditions even i f the (undeniable) characteristic o f experience (e.g. picking o u t particular objects) remains the same. B u t the characteristics o f experience are n o t constant either, a n d here is the greatest single problem w i t h the Kantian argument. Even i f one

accepted the regressive argument t o the effect that B is necessary for a i n the requisite sense, i t does not follow that a is a necessary feature

o f (any) experience. The word “undeniable” then serves only t o beg the question o f necessity. I n fact, Hegel is arguing that the supposedly undeniable ability t o pick o u t particular objects—considered i n isolation from conceptual abilities—is n o t undeniable a t all. The categories Kant putatively shows t o be necessary for knowledge o f objects are n o t yet shown t o be necessary features o f consciousness, unless the fact that we k n o w objects 1s itself shown t o be necessary, a n d this

is precisely what Hegel is calling into question.>® Transcendental arguments are sometimes treated as reductio ad absurdum arguments; their form is,

Suppose (our) consciousness did n o t have feature B. 59. Calling o u r knowledge o f particular objects into question, o f course, does n o t mean denying that we have any such knowledge. B u t i t does mean calling i n t o question

certain descriptions o f such knowledge as well as claims that such knowledge is a u t o n omous and fundamental. This is the argument o f “Sense-Certainty”; as a transcendental argument, i t m i g h t be, “we could n o t d o anything like pick o u t particular objects

unless we also perceived properties (universals) and could describe the objects i n t e r m s o f those properties.”

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

356

I f consciousness d i d not have feature B , then (we) could not have

experiences with characteristic a. But (we) do have experiences with characteristic a. Therefore, the supposition 1s false, and (our) consciousness must have feature B . But there is a curious feature of such arguments, which Hegel pointed o u t against Kant. O n e can t u r n the tables o n a reductio ad

absurdum argument i f only by shitting one’s sense of what i t is that is absurd. So long as we insist that characteristic a is undeniable, the argument seems to go through. B u t consider this; (We) have a n experience w i t h characteristic a. (We) c o u l d n o t have a n experience w i t h a unless (our) conscious-

ness had feature B . But B is absurd. Therefore, (we) d o n o t have experience with characteristic a after

all.o® Indeed, Hegel uses exactly this perversion o f a transcendental argum e n t I n an attack o n Kant’s second Critique (of Practical Reason), i n the Phenomenology as well as elsewhere. Kant had argued t h a t certain characteristics o f o u r moral life were undeniable; furthermore, h e

argued t h a t these undeniable characteristics of our moral life presupposed certain principles—or “postulates of practical reason” as their necessary conditions. By assuming t h a t the characteristics of our moral life were undeniable (simply by presuming and describing them, without argument) Kant sought thereby t o establish the necessity o f the “postulates,” especially “ G o d , Freedom a n d Immortality.” I t is a n undeniable characteristic o f virtue, he argued, that i t be rewarded, i f n o t ın this life then ın the next; Kant called this the “Summum B o n u m ”

(see Phenomenology, esp. 365ff. “Spirit Certain of Itself”). Kant’s arg u m e n t was, i n c r u d e f o r m ; I f i t is rational to be moral, t h e n the S u m m u m B o n u m must be true. ( T h a t is, there m u s t be a G o d who rewards a n d punishes, etc.) Therefore, the S u m m u m B o n u m must be true.

B u t , Hegel rightly objects, this does n o t i n any sense prove the Summ u m B o n u m , and one can just as validly conclude that, i f the Summ u m B o n u m is n o t t r u e , t h e n i t 1s n o t r a t i o n a l t o b e moral. I n Kant’s terms,

he has given us only a regressive argument, which specihes a

60. I n “Sense-Certainty,” the argument would be, “we pick

out

particulars by im-

mediate acquaintance; we can d o this insofar as o u r experience is not ‘mediated, which means that we c a n n o t describe o r for that matter even individuate (pick out) particular

things; therefore, we c a n n o t know particular objects by immediate acquaintance, for this is absurd.”

Consciousness and the Dialectic

357

condition without which morality (as he conceives o f it) would n o t be rational.®! W h a t more would be needed to make this into a proof o f

the Summum Bonum would be a preliminary assertion that it is indeed rational t o be moral. But this would beg the whole question of the second Critique, which is precisely t o demonstrate that it is rational to be moral (as K a n t conceives o f morality). A n d so too, one can easily imagine Hegel responding t o Taylor's analysis: “ N o , I a m n o t using

transcendental arguments, & la Kant, for they succeed as valid arguonly insofar as they begin by assuming what they purport t o prove.” Hegel is n o t particularly interested i n seeking o u t or proving the necessary conditions o r undeniable characteristics o f (our) expements

rience, i f only because h e is more interested i n questioning the undeniability o f those characteristics. H e is indeed arguing that a nec-

essary condition for knowledge of particulars is the use of universals (both conditioned and unconditioned) but this is a t best a part o f his concern, a n d though i t may work as a n interpretation o f these early

chapters it becomes increasingly implausible as the book continues. As insightful as the “transcendental argument” interpretation of Hegel's arguments may be, i t still leaves unanswered the critical question; h o w d o we explain the transitions between t h e chapters, from one form t o another. Even i f we accept that the first t w o chapters are a series o f transcendental arguments whose purpose is to establish certain necessary features o f consciousness, why d o we follow one

argument (“Sense-Certainty”) with this other one (“Perception”)? I n what sense is the rejection of the thesis that “knowledge is immediate knowledge o f sensuous particulars” necessarily followed by the thesis that “the object of knowledge is ‘the Thing and its properties”? What is going on i n this all-important transition? The relation o f sense-certainty t o perception is n o t one o f “thesis t o antithesis”; i t is n o t t o be explained by appeal t o chronology or teleology, and though i t has strong affinities with Kant’s “transcendental arguments” i t cann o t be construed as such; i n fact, i t can just as well be interpreted as

a rejection o f such arguments as unnecessarily limited and “rigid.” I think the best interpretation of this move from “Sense-certainty” t o “Perception” is rather divided i n t o two steps, which are k e p t quite separate; first, there is the demonstration o f the inadequacy o f a form 61. One perennial misinterpretation o f Kant’s first Critique takes the argument t o be t h e attempt t o p r o v e t h e validity o f science a n d mathematics, w h i c h K a n t does b y d e m -

onstrating the necessity o f certain principles, which he establishes by pointing o u t that science and mathematics depend u p o n them. This is indeed the way the arguments (as “ r e g r e s s i v e ” ) a p p e a r i n t h e Prolegomena, b u t n o t i n t h e Critique. I t i s a f a l l a c y t h a t m a y be t r u e of Kant's moral philosophy, but n o t o f his epistemology. T h e necessity o f the categories m u s t be demonstrated independently o f the dependence o f science and math

upon t h e m .

358

Hitching the Highway of Despair

of consciousness i n its own t e r m s , according t o its own claims. These need n o t b e “contradictions” i n any formal sense; for the t i m e being,

let’s just call them “difficulties” and look a t a logical contradiction as being just the ultimate difhiculty. After the demonstration o f difficulties, which is a form o f “indeterminate negation,” that is, which forces

us t o reject that form o f consciousness we find ourselves i n search o f another t o take its place. The first part o f the dialectic is a form o f reductio ad absurdum argument, showing that a form won't d o a n d that o n e o f its basic suppositions—usually either its claim to have m e t a

certain criterion, or the criterion itself——must be given up. But the “must” here only has as much force as the intolerability o f the “dithculty,” a n d we can say i n general that i t is virtually never a logical “ m u s t ” since o n e can always c l a i m o n t h e behalf o f a certain form o f consciousness that i t has been misstated, misunderstood, o r has not

been shown

to

have “difhculties” which are fatal. The search for the

following form, which will take its place, is never necessary either,

which is

not to

say, i n the thinking o f

too

many philosophers from

2 Socrates t o A.J. Ayer, that i t is “arbitrary.” What Hegel means when h e insists o n “determinate negation” is,

first o f all, that we don’t give u p the ship, don’t just drop o u t o f philosophy i n despair (the undergraduate option) or become sophistryminded sceptics (the choice o f some graduate students). I t does n o t mean that another form o f consciousness follows. B u t given that one pursues the project—in this case the development o f a n adequate theory o f knowledge which enables us t o account for our identifica-

tion o f particular objects—a number o f alternatives t o the refuted view (sense-certainty) present themselves. Something has gone wrong; the mistake is t o think that i t is necessarily just one thing. B u t i f o u r theory fails to account for o u r identification o f particulars, we can give u p the d e m a n d to account for particulars, o r give u p o u r quest for a theory o r give u p the idea that knowledge comes from the senses

just as well as give u p the claim that knowing involves immediate acquaintance. T h e move t o the next step is always a choice, a n d a choice whose wisdom is n o t to b e determined i n the move itself, b u t only i n

its consequences. Does this proposal succeed where its predecessor has tailed? T h e choice is

not

blind o r arbitrary. I t is restricted a n d en-

couraged by several factors; first, that the n e w proposal faces the is62. I n this analysis and the discussion t o follow, I am deeply indebted t o Alasdair MacIntyre, who helped to clarify a n d forced m e to defend some o f these views i n his graduate seminars o n some o f the later sections o f the P G i n Austin, the Winter o f 1980. H e too insists u p o n the indeterminacy o f the second stage, but he also insists upon a s t r i c t construal of t h e need t o show “ c o n t r a d i c t i o n ” i n a s t r i c t l y l o g i c a l sense, a criterion according to

which Hegel fails a t virtually

every turn.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

359

sue raised b y t h e o l d one, t h o u g h there is n o determinate way i t must

do this (it can reject the criterion as well as formulate any number of alternatives t o i t ) ; second, the new proposal can b e seen as more o r

less promising i n light o f the arguments of the last. I f it is t o o similar, i t will no doubt share the same fate—which is why i t will often tend t o be an “opposite” (which is only t o say, “quite different,” n o t an “antithesis”). I f there is a “logic” here, i t is what Karl Popper called “the logic o f discovery,” n o t a logic that connects the t w o proposals as such. Indeed, the comparison here should n o t be a series o f philosophical arguments, such as one finds i n Kant’s first Critique o r Fichte’s consci-

entiously “deductive” attempt

to

“systematize” Kant, but rather the

successive formations o f hypotheses i n science, each a n attempt t o

explain some phenomenon, each significantly different from the last and some o f which, i n fact, are aimed a t explaining away the phen o m e n o n Itself. To say that they d o n o t follow one from the other, o r

that there is n o pre-established “transcendental” criterion for deciding what choice o f hypothesis is wise and which foolish is n o t t o deny that there is good and bad science, wise and foolish ways o f proceedi n g , o r that some hypotheses d o n o t better succeed their predecessors

than others. Indeed, bad science, i n Hegel as well as i n physics and astronomy, would sometimes best be seen as a failure o f imagination rather than a breakdown i n logic as such. There is never a set s t a n dard about how t o proceed, since at some point, one can decide t o

change the standards as well.° Perception, then, becomes a hypothesis formulated t o explain what sense-certainty c a n n o t — o u r knowledge o f particular objects. As a hypothesis, i t becomes a n intelligent alternative to sense-certainty, one

with a substantial philosophical ancestry, one which is surely suggested by the kind o f a breakdown Hegel has forced i n sense-certainty (that is, having t o do with universals) but does n o t follow from it. Indeed, i t is only in retrospect that we recognize perception as a substantial improvement over sense-certainty. The retrospect involves the

actual testing o f hypotheses and our eventual arrival a t some hypothesis which seems t o satisty the criterion we have chosen; then we can 63. Taylor points out, for example, that every test o f a form o f consciousness is also a test o f t h e test; t h e test (the criterion) can b e changed as readily as the f o r m . T h e argument here displays Hegel's often commented-on affinity w i t h certain contempo-

rary theories o f science, m o s t notably Thomas Kuhn's classic Structure of Scientific Revolutions, i n which “normal science” proceeds routinely according t o the standards o f an established “paradigm” until the paradigm itself begins t o break down, t o be replaced— rarely i n any logical fashion—by another (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1962). M y a c c o u n t o f Hegel's d i a l e c t i c h e r e h a s c e r t a i n afhnities with Gil Harman’s “ i n f e r e n c e t o t h e b e s t e x p l a n a t i o n ” t h e o r y i n e p i s t e m o l o g y . H a r m a n , Thought ( P r i n c e t o n : P r i n c e t o n Univ. Press, 1978).

360

Hitching the Highway of Despair

say which hypotheses or forms were wise and which were foolish, which helped our understanding and which hindered, even i f one also argues (with Paul Feyerabend) that every hypothesis, no matter h o w foolish, contributes to o u r knowledge a n d to the support we

eventually give t o the hypothesis we accept; There is no idea, however ancient and absurd, that is n o t capable o f improving our knowledge. The whole history o f thought is absorbed into science and is used for improving every single theory.“

This is also compatible with the possibility that, i n t e r m s o f the “dialectic,” the t w o hypotheses might have been proposed i n the reverse order, or, i n terms o f the Phenomenology, we m i g h t have begun w i t h

the (equally) common-sense theory o f Perception and then, after demonstrating its ambiguities and difficulties, decided t o adopt an ontology o f bare particulars, known immediately through the properties as the essence of the “Thing” of Perception. Hegel's much celebrated notion of “aufheben,” i n other words, might nonetheless display a symmetrical nature, such that form A is supplanted by (some version

of) form B, or form B is supplanted by (some version of) form A , and neither ordering is preferable i n the light o f further deliberations. Perhaps either leads us t o form C, which we now accept. A n d so, we can say, the “necessity” o f the move from “Sense-Certainty” to

“Perception” consists just i n the fact that, from some later point i n the sequence o f hypotheses, notably, from “Force and Understanding,” we can see (1) why the first was rejected, a n d (2) how the second

solved a t least some o f the problems presented by the first.” Alasdair Maclntyre has illustrated this kind o f retrospective “necessity” by appeals t o the history o f science, for instance, the followi n g : ° We say that Newton's physics was a dramatic improvement over 64. Paul Feyerabend, Against Method (London: New Left Books, 1975). 65. This retrospective necessity can be interpreted i n the PG i n several ways. The historicist way would be t o claim that the apparent “necessity” o f the sequences is always open t o revision, always depending o n the hypothesis or “form o f consciousness” we now accept, w i t h n o ultimate o r “absolute” standpoint available to us. T h u s a student

who is thinking of going t o medical school might look a t his past primarily i n t e r m s o f just those incidents which confirm ( o r disconfirm) his present outlook; b u t when h e decides i n s t e a d t o become a m e r c e n a r y soldier, t h e e n t i r e p r e - m e d i c a l sequence be-

comes m o r e o r less irrelevant, a n d steps which seemed necessary at the time are n o t even remembered. T h e r e will be new standpoints—which may at the time even seem “absolute”; b u t n o standpoint has any such status, n o m a t t e r h o w all-encompassing it

may seem. (What seems all-encompassing may itself reflect lack o f experience o r lack

of imagination.) The second way o f looking a t the retrospective necessity o f the steps o f t h e dialectic is t h e absolutist way; Q u e n t i n Lauer, for example, insists that Hegel

himself has already reached the Absolute, perhaps several times, and now returns t o l e a d u s unfalteringly t h e r e , a G e r m a n Bodhisattva o f sorts, t h e philosopher o n c e a g a i n returning t o Plato’s cave. 6 6 . I n seminar, a n d w i t h r e s p e c t t o Hegel's a n a l y s i s o f “ p h r e n o l o g y ” i n c h a p t e r 5 o f

the PG, i n MacIntyre (ed.), Hegel, ch. 8.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

361

Aristotle’s, a n d that Einstein was again a n improvement over Newton.

Now there are

two

ways of making such comparisons hopeless: The

first 1s t o assume that they were working o n exactly the same prob-

lems with exactly the same standards, even i f they had different access t o instruments and some different beliefs about the world. This means that we are sure t o misunderstand a t least one of them, casting Aristotle, for example, i n the context of Newtonian mechanics and thereby thoroughly misunderstanding Aristotle.®” The second hopeless procedure is t o suppose that their problems and theories are ultimately incomparable, that each was appropriate for its own times and within its context. T h i s means that there is n o t h i n g to say, a n d it also suggests

the absurd conclusion that what Aristotle m e a n t by “falling objects” was entirely different from what Newton meant by a similar expression.

The c u r r e n t mode o f description for such entirely different frameworks or “paradigms” is “incommensurability.” Two theories are “incommensurable” when the terms o f one are n o t even translatable i n t o

the t e r m s o f the other and the contexts o f application are so different that n o intelligible comparison o r contrast is possible. Nevertheless, a

somewhat weaker version o f commensurability would allow comparative e v a l u a t i o n e v e n w i t h o u t mutual t r a n s l a t i o n as s u c h , so l o n g as

some common standard can be found, for instance, the ability o f each theory t o explain ( i n its o w n terms) a certain range o f phenomena (e.g. falling objects, celestial movements, inertia, a n d momentum).

Indeed, the “common standard” i n question might even be foreign t o b o t h theories, o r a t least, not explicitly formulated b y them. H o w d o we know when we have got a criterion that fairly evaluates both

theories? One way is t o see what claims are m o s t protected i n each theory, which claims are held o n t o even i n the face of the m o s t devastating counter-examples and apparent contradictions. Thus the medieval development o f the Aristotelean physics had taken that viewpoint t o its logical e x t r e m e s , explored for centuries its various consequences and had derived quite a few difhculties bordering on contradictions within the theory. But, as pointed o u t above, this does n o t require one t o give u p a theory, for one can always maintain that the difficulties can be resolved, though by means yet unimagined. The claim o f the Newtonian, therefore, is t o be able to show h o w these

difficulties arise inevitably i n the Aristotelean system and

to

eliminate

t h e m i n his o w n . I t is not t h a t N e w t o n is “better” t h a n Aristotle, b u t

what he can do 1s t o

correct

some o f the difficulties the Aristotelean

67. F o r example, s e e D.]J. O'Connor, i n A Critical History o f Western Philosophy (New York: Free Press, 1964), ch. 3: “ M u c h o f his science was merely wrong. A n d we m u s t d i s c o u n t t h e s e m i s t a k e s a n d their influence i f w e a r e t o judge his s y s t e m fairly” (p. 42).

362

Hitching the Highway of Despair

view gets into by its own standards. B u t we c a n n o t conclude too fast that

the transition is asymmetrical, that one could n o t derive difhiculties i n Newton that a latter day Aristotelean might show t o be inevitable within that view but eliminable i n his o w n . This is precisely what has happened, for example, from the Einsteinian standpoint today. (Our view o f the superiority o f Newton—reinforced by the self-congratulatory version o f “ t h e scientific m e t h o d ” we are all taught i n h i g h school—is

i n fact predicated o n the contingency that Newton happened o n the scene after Aristotle a n d that few o f o u r h i g h school teachers under-

stand Einstein.) This is n o t t o say that i t would be the same Aristotle o f the 4th century B.C. that one might imagine emerging i n the 19th century but, nevertheless, i t was a very Aristotelean position that dominated the sciences i n Germany a t the t u r n o f the 19th century. The arguments that Hegel levels against the Newtonian world-view i n chapter 3 are largely based on a distinctively Aristotelean viewpoint. The transition from Sense-Certainty t o Perception, therefore, serves as a model for the transitions i n the r e s t o f the book. To expect deductive necessity is inevitably t o be disappointed, and this means either dismissing Hegel as a failure o r making excuses for h i m . B u t he is n o t a failure a n d needs n o excuses. H e has a strategy (something less

than a “method”) and he follows i t with precision, a t least within distinctive sections o f the Phenomenology—tor example, the first three chapters. T h e strategy is t o take u p a position—it does n o t matter

which—and push i t until i t breaks down according t o its own criteria. T h e n , taking u p those same criteria, one has a choice o f several alternative views trying t o satisfy the same criteria, o r one can choose a

new criterion, presumably i n the light o f the view that has just been pursued. The first step 1s logically rigorous; the second is n o t . But here, i n the first few chapters, the sequence is quite simple; since we retain the same limited pursuit—the development o f an adequate theory o f knowledge—and insist o n the same central criterion—the

identification and reidentification o f particular objects—the sequence is simply a series o f hypotheses t o try t o provide t h a t theory a n d sat-

isfy that criterion.®® 68. I have made i t sound t o o m u c h as i f there is only one criterion. This is not true. There is o n e c r i t e r i o n w h i c h has c o m e to o u r attention, because i t 1s t h e o n e w h i c h 1s

giving us trouble. B u t there are other criteria too—for example, the criterion that what we k n o w must i n some sense b e based ( i n p a r t ) u p o n o u r senses. But, since this c r i t e r i o n is never challenged, i t need never b e stated, at least i n chapter 1. I n chapter 2 i t is p a r t o f o u r r e a s o n for rejecting t h e “ s u b s t a n c e ” interpretation o f “ t h e Thing.” T h e r e a r e other criteria t o o , for example, t h e fact t h a t t h e t h e o r y m u s t b e s t a t a b l e i n G e r m a n / ( E n g l i s h ) , t h a t a t l e a s t s o m e of t h e o b j e c t s o f k n o w l e d g e a r e material objects, t h a t I/we c a n know them, e t c . B u t “ t h e c r i t e r i o n ” Hegel t a l k s a b o u t will m o s t likely b e

(implicitly)

Consciousness and the Dialectic

363

d. Force and Understanding: Kant, Newton, and the Nature of Natural Laws The understanding does n o t derive its laws from, but prescribes them t o , n a t u r e . —Kant, Prolegomena to A n y Future Metaphysics

. . . the Understanding i n truth comes t o know nothing else but appearance. . . . i n fact, the Understanding experiences only itself. —Phenomenology

Both sense-certainty and perception were theories o f knowledge,

at-

tempts t o specify what i t is that we k n o w w h e n we k n o w something,

and how we know it. T h e first insists that what we know are the objects themselves, and the “how” is by way o f immediate acquaintance. The second insists that we know particular objects t o o , but what we immediately know by acquaintance are n o t the objects themselves but their properties. B o t h views agree that what we k n o w are particular objects; both agree that we know them through our senses. Both agree

that the particularity o f the object is given t o us, prior t o any efforts on our part, whether as a particular (in “Sense-Certainty”) or through its properties ( i n “Perception”). B o t h treat the “ I ” uncritically as a

receptive individual “ I ” which first gets its data and only then applies concepts t o this data. B o t h assume a u n i t y a n d uniformity t o experience, such that ambiguity (between particularly and universality, bet w e e n “the Thing and its properties”) is their undoing. Both prove t o be failures, and both for the same reason; they c a n n o t i n fact a c c o u n t tor the particularity o f objects.

Understanding is t h e K a n t i a n faculty that applies concepts t o experience; b u t what makes the K a n t i a n concept o f understanding differe n t from the empiricist notion o f the same faculty is the fact that it does n o t just recognize objects; i t constitutes them. I n other words, there

are n o objects (of experience) until the understanding has gone through

and synthesized them. I t does this by applying concepts which are prior to any particular experience, in other words, a priori concepts o r

categories. Hegel's way o f saying this is t o say that the concepts o f the understanding are n o t conditioned by the senses; they are unconditioned universals. T h e y are n o t just applied t o b u t precede experience as its

organizing principles. A n d since it is the “ I ” (the transcendental ego) that supplies these concepts, i t is no longer viewed as primarily a ret h e o n e t h a t i s t h e l o c u s o f trouble, n o t t h e o n l y c r i t e r i o n . I n fact, t h e r e will b e o n e o v e r r i d i n g c r i t e r i o n o f c o n s i s t e n c y a n d c o h e r e n c e , b u t this c r i t e r i o n , because i t i s p r e supposed by a l l o f t h e others, will n o t b e s t a t e d a t a l l , a t l e a s t n o t until t h e very end, where i t will emerge i n t e r m s o f “Absolute Knowing.”

364

Hitching the Highway of Despair

ceptor, b u t as a n activity, namely, the activity o f p r o v i d i n g rules a n d

laws which govern our every experience. The transition from “Sense-Certainty” and “Perception” t o “Understanding” depends upon the dramatic t u r n from the idea o f “the given” (whether as objects o r clusters o f properties) t o the view that particularity is determined by us, through the application o f concepts. Toward the e n d o f “Perception” (131), i t has already been sug-

gested that one view o f the locus o f particularity, namely, the Aristotelean notion o f “substance,” reduces particularity t o just “a thought” (This was emphatically not Aristotle’s view, but i t certainly was t h e con-

clusion o f John Locke). The chapter “Force and the Understanding” picks u p this suggestion and elevates i t t o a theory; i f particular objects are constituted b y us through o u r concepts, then that explains

why sense-certainty proved t o be incapable o f expressing what it supposedly knew prior t o conceptualization; namely, it did n o t know anyt h i n g at all. ( O r rather, as a theory o f knowledge, i t refused t o include

the main factor that would allow for individuation.) Perception found itself hopelessly confused between the postulation o f a “substance” beyond all possible experience and the unintelligible view that a thing was n o t h i n g b u t the s u m o f its properties (for what t h e n would these

be properties of ?). But i f it is the understanding that provides the concepts by which properties become properties o f an object, then “substance” loses its a i r o f the u n k n o w n , a n d at the same t i m e we have a clear view o f the sense i n which properties are properties o f some-

thing: namely, they are properties o f a thing because we ourselves supply the concept o f substance t o synthesize them. I n Hegel's more

formidable t e r m s , the Object is now its Concept: “Reality is defined by our conceptions o f it, . . . the unity o f ‘being-for-self’ and ‘being for-another’” (134).%°

T h e view so tar is Kant’s view in the first Critique. But i t is important t o note again that Hegel does n o t himself accept this view as such; h e does n o t accept the K a n t i a n view that there is a “manifold o f intuition” which is given t o us, for there are n o sensations-in-themselves

any more than there are things-in-themselves. (This was the point o f “Sense-Certainty,” that nothing is given t o us “immediately”.) H e does n o t hold the view that concepts or categories are given t o us either; the set o f a p r i o r i concepts which are employed b y the understanding

are

not

given or fixed, as Kant supposed. This leads Hegel

to

com-

69. I t is this contrast, r a t h e r t h a n “ i n i t s e l f ” a n d “ f o r itself,” t h a t defines this p a r t o f

the PG. Hegel refers

to

this new unity, however, with the unfortunate phrase “ i n and

for itself.” C f . Plato, Theaetetus: “ . . . whether we speak o f something b e i n g o r b e c o m i n g

for someone o r o f something, we must n o t speak o f a thing as either being o r becoming

just i n and by itself.”

Consciousness and the Dialectic

365

plain (with an unfortunate lack o f precision) that understanding 1s itself still “an object” for consciousness (132), since i t has n o t grasped the fact that consciousness and its concepts are ours, and n o t simply given. Self-examination makes us free t o change o u r concepts, i.e. “consciousness has n o t yet grasped the concept o f the unconditioned as concept” (132). I n a key phrase, Hegel advises us, “ w e have t o t h i n k

pure change, . . . or contradiction” (106). This is what the r e s t o f the Phenomenology is about, n o t j u s t t h e (Kantian) fact t h a t we supply t h e concepts t h r o u g h which we constitute o u r experience, b u t the very

un-Kantian concern about the “fluidity” o f our concepts, and the very different ways i n which they allow us t o constitute our world. Moreover, Hegel thoroughly disagrees with Kant that the understanding is t o be considered a realm u n t o its own, separated by the very nature

o f the human mind from the domain o f practical activities. The idea o f science and knowledge for its own sake, which so attracted the Enlightenment Kant, was n o t a t all an agreeable notion t o Hegel and his praxis-minded colleagues. I n “Sense-Certainty” and “Perception,” there was a persistent confusion o f several key ingredients, “ I ” and the object, immediacy and mediation, particular and universal, thing and property. I n every case, it would seem that one turned into the other. Sense-certainty demanded particulars and got stuck with universals; perception began with universals and seemed left with an inexperiencable o r unintelligible sense o f particularity. I n “Force and the Understanding” these pairs begin t o be fused such that all knowledge becomes, i n that vague idealist phrase, “the unity o f subject and object”; more precisely, there is no distinguishing what is given from what we contribute t o our experience. Objects are particular b u t they are so by virtue o f sense-

conditioned universals (properties) which are themselves constituted as objects by way o f unconditioned universals or concepts. The thingin-itself n o w becomes for us, that is, i n itself for us, because o f the way

we conceive o f it. Now it is time t o straighten o u t certain infelicities i n Kant—the residual idea o f the thing-in-itself and the causal theory o f perception, as well as the unimaginative idea that the concepts

through which we know the world are the fixed categories o f Newton’s physics. The first few pages o f chapter 3 are misleadingly assuring; they tell u s i n n o u n c e r t a i n t e r m s t h a t w e a r e n o w o n o u r w a y t o t h e Truth;

we need only know a little bit about Kant’s philosophy a n d Hegel’s

admiration o f Kant

to

see that the problems we have been grappling

with i n the first t w o chapters are now about

to

be resolved. B u t things

a r e n o t so s i m p l e , a n d it i s a t t h i s p o i n t i n t h e Phenomenology t h a t t h e

366

Hitching the Highway of Despair

first truly dramatic t u r n o f e v e n t s occurs—in fact, t w o o f them: first, here is Kant’s “Copernican Revolution” turning our attention away from t h e objects a n d to t h e concepts we use to conceive o f t h e m ;

second, a n d more radically, we now cease trying to satisfy a demand— namely, the criterion we have so far accepted as the standard o f an

adequate theory o f knowledge. We instead discard the criterion as well as our pursuit o f knowledge (that is, a theory o f knowledge), with a n eye to something quite different. There is a dialectical reason for this, o f course, a n d that is, n o w that we have a theory o f knowledge

i n which, within the c o n t e x t o f the epistemological tradition established b y t h e question “What is it t o k n o w something?” we come t o

see that the question itself is incomplete. I t wrongly presupposes an a u t o n o m o u s domain o f knowledge, and wrongly supposes that it can solve its o w n problems. Despite the assurances o f the opening lines, t h e a r g u m e n t o f t h e very difhcult t h i r d chapter seems t o b e that t h e

Kantian solution t o our epistemological question 1s n o t adequate a t all. Insofar as i t works, i t shows its own inadequacy, namely, it leads inevitably t o the conclusion that we c a n n o t know anything for reasons that Kant himself had pointed o u t i n his “antinomies” i n the “Iranscendental Dialectic”; for every sound and valid belief that we can provide for ourselves through the concepts o f the understanding, there is another position that is opposed t o this which can be shown t o be equally sound and valid. So long as one accepted the idea o f a world-in-itself, the correspondence view o f truth—the “matching-up” o f our beliefs with the facts o f the world—made some sense. B u t i f one has argued, as Hegel and

Fichte had argued, that there is no world i n itself but only the world o f phenomena constituted b y us through o u r concepts, t h e n the an-

tinomies prove t o be disastrous t o Kant’s o w n program. Either they show that the world is contradictory, which is intolerable by the criterion that there must be one unified a n d harmonious t r u t h , o r we are pushed back t o scepticism, which is also intolerable. What we find

in chapter 3, therefore, 1s Hegel's demonstration that the understanding c a n n o t by itself give an a c c o u n t o f how we know the world, i n part because it considers knowledge independently o f any practical or contextual concerns. I n the very diflicult section that follows (135~

65) Hegel argues that “understanding” breaks down because it yields, and c a n n o t decide between, contradictory accounts of the world. But what Hegel is arguing here is b y n o means just the specific doctrines

of Kant’s philosophy; he is attacking the very idea o f an independent domain o f knowledge, t h e still powerful notion t h a t there is such a thing as “pure science” and “knowledge for i t s own sake” His argu-

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

367

m e n t is not that science thereby ignores its social consequences and responsibilities, which is just an “external” argument and thereby easily ignored by “pure” seekers after knowledge; it is first o f all the

demonstration that science cannot succeed in its own terms. Only then,

i n chapters 4 and 5, will Hegel suggest an alternative hypothesis, that n o theory o f knowledge makes any sense detached from the practical

and social context i n which it is inevitably involved. I t is the concept o f “force” that plays this key role i n the argument against a pure theory o f “understanding.” The concept o f “force,” which literally pops u p from nowhere (136), is o f course the central concept o f physical science, or, at least, o f Newtonian physics, which

was considered by Kant t o be the supreme scientific achievement o f his day. Again, Hegel's aim is not t o criticize the purity o f knowledge trom the “outside,” by complaining about the inaccessibility o f scientific jargon o r the difficulty o f its mathematics (which seems t o some critics nowadays to be tantamount to a n argument against it) but rather

by taking u p its own central feature and showing that i t is inherently unsatisfactory. The debates surrounding Newton’s theory were well known t o Hegel, and i n particular he was partial t o his own compatriot Leibniz, w h o h a d rejected the Newtonian edifice i n general, a n d

the concept o f force i n particular, as unworkable. But i t is equally significant that Leibniz provided his own notion o f “force” i n his alternative theories, a n d that i t h a d become one o f those words—Ilike

the key words i n science ever since—that had captured the popular and the philosophical imagination. “Force” had become a metaphor for any below-the-surface activity which could be used t o explain movements a n d transformations. A n d , closest t o home, Schelling h a d

made the concept o f “force” (and what he called “self-activity”) the key t o his whole metaphysical system o f nature.” The notion o f activity “below the surface” is new i n the argument o f the Phenomenology. So tar, i n “Sense-Certainty” and “Perception,” we have been restricting ourselves t o the level o f superficial description o f sensory objects—whether as particulars or conditioned universal properties. I n “Perception,” we found ourselves forced, via Aristotle, t o postulate some underlying substratum o f “substance” t o explain the unity o f properties i n a thing; but this postulation proved t o be problematic just because it was n o t itself experiencible, because it was “ b e h i n d ” o r “ b e n e a t h ” t h e properties. With understanding, 70. Ideas Towards a Philosophy ofNature (1797) and System of Philosophy ofNature (1798): “produktiv Kraft [is] m i n d s t r i v i n g t o organize itself. So too, i n t h e o u t e r w o r l d , a universal tendency t o organization must reveal itself. . . . T h e soul intuits itself as a n object w i t h i n which is p r o d u c t i v e force” (Werke, I , 386); a n d “ T h e force o f n a t u r e is n o t h i n g o t h e r t h a n t h e force o f

mind” (ibid.).

368

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

however, the idea o f something “behind” experience is given a Kanti a n twist; i t is n o t a substance b u t a self, namely, consciousness, which

ties together a n d gives structure t o experience. This means too that we are n o longer content t o merely describe what we know; we also are

compelled

to

explain it. The c o n c e p t o f force, by the

turn

o f the 18th

century, was t h e d o m i n a n t explanatory principle o f science.

Understanding “solves” the problem o f the identity o f particulars by identifying the concepts we supply t o experience and through which objects are constituted as particular. B u t this i n t u r n gives rise t o t w o new sets o f distinctions, which begin o u r troubles all over again. First,

there is this new distinction between what appears in experience (as “appearance”) a n d what is going o n “below the surface” (as “torce”).

I n Kant, there is an essential ambiguity between the activity o f consciousness (the transcendental ego) and the forces that are t o be found i n the objects themselves. (Thus our opening quotation from the Prolegomena: “The understanding does n o t derive its laws from, but prescribes them t o , nature.”)’! Hegel thus plays throughout this chapter o n the equivocation and confusion o f these t w o different sorts o f activities, ultimately arguing that there is n o distinction between explaining phenomena (as N e w t o n thought h e was doing) a n d merely re-describing them, since all that we are d o i n g i n any case Is altering

the concepts through which we constitute the objects o f our experience. T h e second new distinction, also essential t o Kant, is the distinction between form a n d content (135).72 F o r Kant, the content is given i n

intuition; the form is provided by concepts. Ultimately, Hegel rejects this distinction, and the idea o f the “given” i n intuition particularly. But i n the Phenomenology he mainly displays his new-found love of dialectical argument and conscientious paradox, showing the problems w h i c h a r i s e w i t h s u c h a d i s t i n c t i o n . F o r m s , h e points out, c a n b e

distinguished without difficulty (the form o f a horse versus the form o f a rabbit, for example). B u t contents, distinguished from forms, cannot be distinguished at all, a n d for m u c h the same reason that

sense-certainty, i n chapter 1, was incapable o f distinguishing particular objects; i t could n o t do so without universals (in this case, forms o r concepts). T h u s Hegel's argument, which sounds perverse b u t has

a long history i n philosophy, is this; i f there is any content a t all, there is only one o f them, and that is—everything all a t once, o r “the Ab-

75 solute.” 71. O n e finds a similar play between “ i n n e r ” a n d “ o u t e r ” i n Plato’s Theaetetus, i n his

attack o n Protagoras, “ M a n is the measure o f all things.” 72. Cf. Science of Logic, p . 137£.; Logic, para. 133f. 73. T h e argument should be familiar t o m o s t philosophy students as identical t o Spinoza’s argument a t t h e beginning of his E t h i c s : i f t h e r e a r e a n y substances, t h e r e c a n

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

369

Both o f these new distinctions emerge i n terms o f “force.” The first becomes the distinction between “Force proper” and “Force expressed,” the former being the activity behind the scenes, the latter being the appearance o f force i n experience. ( I n physics, this is the distinction between “potential” and “kinetic” energy.) The distinction between form and c o n t e n t replaces the Aristotelean distinction between substance and properties (“matters”) i n “Perception,” and force now becomes “the movement” between unity and diversity. Here again we see one o f Hegel's favorite arguments, the argument that unity is

really diversity and diversity really unity.” (Our primary example o f this so far is the three chapters o f “Consciousness”: the bare “This” as t h e u n i t y o f sense-certainty, t h e plurality o f properties o f perception, a n d now the u n i t y o f “ T h e Concept” i n understanding.) Force,

i n other words, explains change, though Hegel leaves i t intentionally ambiguous t o what extent h e means change i n objects o r change i n o u r concepts, since h e is a r g u i n g that these are ultimately indistin-

guishable. I f we think more concretely about the notion o f “force” i n Newton's laws, however, i t becomes clear that this ambiguity is n o t just the product o f Hegel's philosophical imagination. Newton defines “force” as mass times acceleration. B u t is force therefore nothing b u t

the quantifiable description o f weighable mass and measurable acceleration, and therefore an “appearance”? O r is force rather some unseen power, which explains the relation so measured.” I t is easy t o

appreciate, despite Hegel's impossible language, that he is o n t o something extremely important, and which still has philosophers o f science vigorously arguing today.’®

The primary examples o f force i n “Force and the Understanding,” however, are n o t Newton’s laws o f motion (which were already over a c e n t u r y o l d ) b u t t h e newly discovered forces o f electromagnetism (152).77 T h e excitement o f these discoveries obviously thrilled Schell-

ing (in his Naturphilosophie) and Hegel t o o . The concept o f force, and its division into “Force proper” and “Forse expressed,’ is o f particular importance i n the explanation o f electromagnetic phenomena. Take, at most

be one o f them. A similar argument has recently been proposed by Donald

Davidson, i n opposition to the “correspondence t h e o r y o f t r u t h , ” namely, that i f there a r e a n y facts a t a l l , t h e r e c a n b e a t m o s t o n e o f t h e m ( w h i c h means t h a t t r u t h c a n n o t b e

correspondence with “ t h e facts”, “True to the Facts,”Journal ofPhilosophy, vol. 6 6 (1969).

74. I n t h e Science o f Logic, t h e c o n c e p t o f “ f o r c e ” is tion” between the whole and its parts (p. 518ff.).

used to

resolve

t h e “contradic-

7 5 . I n t h e Differenz-essay o f 1 8 0 1 , H e g e l writes ( o f K a n t ) : “ a t t r a c t i v e a n d repulsive

forces a r e e i t h e r purely ideal, i n which case they a r e not force, o r else they are trans c e n d e n t ” ( p . 164). 7 6 . See, e . g , J . L a k a t o s a n d A . M u s g r o v e (eds.), Criticism a n d the G r o w t h o f Knowledge

(Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1970). 77. I n t h e Logic, Hegel i n s i s t s t h a t t h e s e f o r c e s further s t r e s s his differences with Newton.

a r e n o t mechanical

(136), i n o r d e r

to

370

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

as the simplest example, the action o f a magnet o n some iron filings; we talk about t h e force o f t h e magnet, b u t are we really saying any-

thing more than the fact that the filings behave i n a certain way when the magnet is moved? Need we postulate anything “below the surface,” a force, a “field,” as well as describe the various movements o f the m a g n e t a n d t h e filings? I n d e e d , this was Leibniz’s objection to

Newton too; why postulate some unseen physical force with absurd properties (for example, action a t a distance, as i n gravitation and magnetism) when one can be content—and have just the same “con-

tent”—with a thorough redescription o f the phenomena without invocation o f mysterious causal elements.”® U p until this point (and i n the Logic too) Hegel has been talking about a single force, whose p r i m a r y property is the unity o f objects. (“Force, the self-identical whole, o r immanency . . . yet supersedes

this immanency and gives itself expression.””?) But now, and I think as the result o f a logically dubious transition, Hegel shifts from talking about “Force proper” and “Force expressed” (as the power behind the scenes and the actual changes i n appearances) t o talk about t w o different forces (138-43). I t is clear enough what Hegel has i n mind: we know i t best i n Freud, but Hegel takes i t from Heraclitus and Empedocles—the view that all change is t o be explained by a conflict offorces (life against death, sex against ego, love against strife, force against inertia). I n his own times, Boscovich challenged Newton by replacing the theory o f mass and m o m e n t u m with a theory o f attractive and repulsive forces. T h e idea seems t o be that one force

would n o t have anything t o do were there n o t another force t o work against it; “ . . . the concept o f force becomes actual through its duplication into t w o forces. These t w o forces exist as independent essences; b u t their existence is a movement o f each towards the o t h e r ” ( 1 4 1 ) . Hegel's first example h e r e i s electromagnetic t h e o r y ; t h e “ t w o

forces” are the positive a n d negative poles o f a magnet o r a voltage

cell. I t does n o t m a t t e r which o f the

two

poles is called “positive” and

which is called “negative”; they are “indifferent,” Hegel tells us. “Elec-

tricity, as simple force, is indifferent

to

its law-—to be positive and neg-

ative” (152). B u t the conclusion that Hegel draws from the fact that

the labels are arbitrary is that the apparent distinction between forces 1s “only an empty word.” I n a more Newtonian example, he similarly and precociously argues that space and time are mere “moments” o f motion (that is, “velocity = distance divided by time”) and therefore truly distinct (as Einstein would argue a century later, but Leibniz had already suggested it a century before).

not

78. C f . Hegel's o w n argument i n the Logic (136).

79. 1bid.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

371

I n each case, Hegel urges us t o raise the same critical question,

whether indeed what we are doing when we explain some phenomenon (the m o v e m e n t o f the iron filings, the apple dropping t o the ground) is discovering t w o forces i n opposition below the surface or postulating t w o nonexistent theoretical forces as a convenient way o f describing our experience. Thus some modern philosophers o f science (e.g. C.G. Hempel) have insisted that all such theoretical con-

structs, which are a form o f explanatory “shorthand,” must ultimately be accounted for i n terms o f some relationship between observable properties, n o matter h o w complex. B u t then, Hegel says, are we explaining a n y t h i n g at all? A r e we not j u s t redescribing t h e phenomen o n i n greater detail? A n d i f this is so, should we n o t give u p o u r

claim

to

be discovering forces behind the phenomenon and insist in-

stead that what we have f o u n d is only o u r o w n activity; “ T h u s the

o f Force remains only the thought of it; the moments of its actuality . . . collapse into an undifferentiated unity, a unity which is not Force driven back into itself . . . but is its concept qua concept. Thus the truth

realization o f Force is at the same t i m e the loss o f reality” (141). I n

the Logic, Hegel says, “every article i n the import o f force is the same as what is specified i n the exertion; and the explanation o f the phenomenon by a force is t o that extent a mere tautology. (cf. Phenomenology, 155]. . . . I t is a form that does n o t make the slightest addition t o the content a n d to the law, which have t o be discovered from the

phenomenon alone. Another assurance always given is that

to

speak

o f forces implies n o theory as to their nature; a n d that b e i n g so, i t is

impossible t o see why the form o f force has been introduced into the sciences a t all” (ibid.).8° Hegel's argument here against scientific explanation i n terms o f “force” and “forces” sounds like sophistry, and the almost grotesque obscurity and vagueness o f his writing only reinforces this suspicion. But he is o n t o something o f e x t r e m e importance, and a look a t the history o f such “scientific” explanations should make this clear. Moliere told the joke about “the sleeping powder causes sleep because o f its soporific powers.” This looks like an explanation, but i t explains nothing. I t restates what we already knew, that certain substances cause drowsiness a n d sleep. B u t behind the joke lies a lot o f philosophy;

when Aristotle explained a phenomenon, he appealed

to

just such

i n h e r e n t forces; i n the absence o f m o d e r n chemical analysis, for ex-

ample, he had n o choice but

to

explain mind-affecting potions by

80. I n t h e Logic, h e r a i s e s t h e s a m e o b j e c t i o n a g a i n s t e x p l a n a t i o n s i n t e r m s o f G o d as force, e . g . i n Herder ( i b i d . ) . A s w e shall see l a t e r , H e g e l wholly rejects a n y conception o f G o d as a m e r e explanation (as h e a l s o d i d i n his early “theological” essays. S e e c h a p t e r

3).

372

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

reference t o their mind-affecting properties. But one might argue that the modern scientist is n o t in a much better position; he can explain the mind-affecting properties o f lysergic acid, for example, by appeal t o the fact that the drug resembles certain chemicals i n the central nervous system, whose activities i t mocks; b u t i f one wants t o

be perverse, it could be argued that this only pushes back the demand for explanation t o another level: why do these chemicals have this ability t o change consciousness? And the answer a t some point seems t o be “because they affect the mind.” Hegel's argument is partly sophistry; he is not, after all, entirely sympathetic t o the scientific enterprise. But what he is demanding here is an a c c o u n t , which philosophers had n o t yet provided, o f the n a t u r e o f scientific explanation. What he sometimes seems t o assume is that such a n explanation adds nothing new t o what has already

been described as the phenomenon

to

be explained; this assumption

can be challenged. I n contemporary physics, for instance, progress typically involves the discovery o f some new o r i n any case neglected

phenomenon which defies well-established theories—black body radiation o r the peculiar behavior o f light i n certain experiments. And insofar as something new is added, one could argue that scientific explanations are valuable precisely because they incorporate more and more varied phenomena within the same theoretical framework. B u t even so, the Hegelian challenge can be restated: H o w is this dif-

ferent from a broader description o f the phenomena? And do we inevitably understand more as the scope o f description is increased?

Many modern physicists have their doubts, and Hegel expressed his doubt a full century before Planck, Einstein, and their colleagues began their total revision o f a science that, i n 1900, looked as i f i t h a d

finally explained everything that had t o be explained.?! So far we have been talking primarily o f forces as explanatory or theoretical postulations b e h i n d the scenes; b u t forces, Hegel reminds us, are still particulars ( i n the Logic—"“finite”). I t is explanation by ap-

peal t o force that Hegel calls “a tautological movement” (155) and “a difference that is n o t a difference” (ibid.). The problem Hegel here acknowledges is one that had plagued the concept of scientific explanation ever since (and largely because o f ) Aristotle——namely, the sus-

picion that explanation i n t e r m s o f inherent “forces” or “powers” is n o explanation at all. D a v i d Hume, for example, h a d formulated the argument i n a striking way i n this Treatise on Human Nature: “ D o we

ever actually experience such forces?” he challenges. We do not, and 81. G a r y Z u k o v , Dancing Wu-Li Masters, i n t h e I n t r o d u c t i o n .

Consciousness and the Dialectic

373

we m u s t therefore conclude that the alleged “necessity” o f cause and effect relations is in us, a matter o f psychological “habit” rather than

physical fact. And just a few years ago, the American philosopher Nelson Goodman reformulated the dilemma again as a series o f riddles and paradoxes.®? What is the difference between a cause and effect connection and a merely contingent sequence o f events? When are wejustified i n postulating a force a t work and a necessary connection between events? How can we escape the “tautology” o f a form o f explanation that “says nothing a t all but repeats the same thing” (155). The contemporary answer t o these questions, anticipated by Hegel i n this chapter o f the Phenomenology, is that explanation requires laws. Forces are particular, but laws are general. Postulation o f a force seems to

redescribe the phenomenon, but the application o f a law subsumes

the p h e n o m e n o n u n d e r a general pattern o f phenomena. T h e argument

has a familiar form; once again Hegel has moved from an ulti-

mately empty reference to particulars to a hopefully rewarding ap-

peal

to

universals. And once again, he has taken a Kantian t u r n ;

whereas forces apparently are powers behind the scenes, laws are

contributed t o n a t u r e by us. (Again we find a familiar Hegelian progression, from talk about “the object” t o talk about our subjective contribution and “the Concept”, as i n the shift from the “This” t o the “ I ” i n “Sense-Certainty” and the shift from both “Sense-Certainty” and “Perception” t o “Force and the Understanding” and “SelfConsciousness.) To explain a phenomenon is t o subsume i t under a law; but does this reformulation o f the scientific enterprise escape the vacuousness Hegel objected to i n explanations i n t e r m s o f “force”? N o , H e g e l finds, it does not.

To see why explanations i n terms o f law are also vacuous, we need another criterion, according t o which this form of consciousness, which we might today call the “scientific consciousness,’® must test itself. We have finally satisfied the demand, lett over from the first two

chapters, that our theory explain how i t is that we know particulars; we supply the concepts through which particulars are constituted. But with the concept o f “force,” which is one ingredient i n that constitu-

tion, we raise another demand—that an adequate theory o f knowledge can i n addition account for changes i n particulars and interrelations between them. Our previous talk o f “things” now t u r n s instead t o events. Change a n d relations were part o f the “ u n d o i n g ” o f percep-

tion, and, i n general, the greatest single difficulty i n Greek philoso82. N e l s o n Goodman, Fact, Fiction and Forecast (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1977). See

his “ F a b r i c a t i o n o f F a c t s ” i n Ways o f Worldmaking ( I n d i a n a p o l i s : 83. N o t “ S c i e n c e ” i n H e g e l ' s broad s e n s e o f “Wissenschaft.”

also

H a c k e t t , 1978).

374

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

phy.®* Thus Newton's physics and the new mathematics that went along with it, simply construed, were the attempt to provide laws o f change.

The calculus provided mathematical descriptions o f seemingly irregular and infinitesimal processes, and Newton's laws reduced all physical motion t o a simple set o f forces, actions and reactions. The new criterion, i n other words, was the demand that we account for change i n the simplest possible set o f laws, a n d these laws, u n l i k e the

changes they explain, are permanent, “the stable image o f unstable appearance” (149). T h u s we find even i n Einstein the insistence that

though the universe may be constantly changing, the laws, a t least, are eternal. I f laws are to be e n d u r i n g a n d not, like the concept o f force, t o o

specific t o the phenomena they explain and ad hoc, they m u s t be as broad as possible. Ideally, therefore, there would be only one law, and i t would n o t be inaccurate t o say that this is still the criterion for scientific progress—the “unity o f science” and the explanation o f all phenomena under the simplest set o f laws. Thus Newton died seeking a synthesis between his laws of motion and his still problematic theory o f gravitation, and Einstein died still looking for a “unified field theory,” which would organize all o f the explanatory forces of physics, including electromagnetism and gravity as well as intra-atomic

forces, under a single set o f laws. But this is just what Hegel insists is impossible.

As an advance o n Newton, scientists o f the 18th century had attempted t o reduce his various laws t o one, just as the philosophers

following Kant tried t o “systematize” his philosophy. I t is this attempt the unity o f all laws that leads Hegel t o insist, i n this chapter, that

at

. . . plurality 1s a detect, for it contradicts the principle o f the Understanding for which, as consciousness o f the simple inner world [ o f laws], the True is the implicitly universal unity. I t must, therefore, let

many laws collapse into one law (150). T h e reasoning here is something like this; i f there were m o r e t h a n one law, there w o u l d have t o be a further law explaining the relation-

ship between laws, their priorities and interconnections. Thus Spinoza h a d argued that there could only be one substance, a n d Aristotle 84. O n e o f Aristotle’s m a i n objections against Plato was his inability to account for

change. So t o o Parmenides a n d his student Zeno attacked the very notion o f change as nonsense. Heraclitus, who t r i e d t o s a y t h a t c h a n g e w a s r e a l , h a d t o b o l s t e r u p t h a t n o t i o n w i t h t h e i d e a o f a n e t e r n a l a n d u n c h a n g i n g logos t o e x p l a i n change as a mani-

festation o f something unchanging, as its basis. 8 5 . A t J e n a a n d l a t e r a t Niirmberg,

H e g e l w o u l d g i v e c o u r s e s o n differential a n d

integral calculus. B u t i n Germany, Leibniz was generally given credit for these inventions, n o t N e w t o n .

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

375

attacked Plato o n the basis o f “ t h e t h i r d m a n argument,” namely, that t o show the relation between the Form “ M a n ” a n d a m a n one would

need another Form, and then another t o explain that relationship, and so o n ad infinitum. I n tact, such a single all-inclusive law had been ingeniously formulated by the physicist Boscovich i n the middle o f the 18th century; much o f Hegel’s argument, therefore, is directed toward the lively scientific enterprise o f his o w n day.86 The problem with such general laws is that they lose the explanat o r y richness o f rather specific laws (for instance, Lavoisier’s law o f

oxidation, which brought together the disparate phenomena o f breathing, rusting, and burning); they “lose their specific character . . . become more and more superficial” and ultimately become “nothing but the concept o f law itself” (150). Hegel picks o u t the law o f gravitation as such a n empty law, b u t adds that “ t h e expression, un:versal attraction, 1s o f great importance insofar as i t is directed against

the thoughtless way in which everything is pictured as contingent” (ibid.). But Hegel poses a new dilemma, that either laws are so specific that they t o o , like the appeal t o “force,” become nonexplanatory, o r they become so general and “superficial” that they are ultimately empty

and explain nothing a t all. The dilemma is n o t real, one could argue, tor there still remains that v a s t range o f middle-level laws which Hegel has n o t challenged as such. But there will always be the tendency a n d temptation Hegel warns us, t o insist o n all-embracing laws. What h e is attacking, then, is n o t science as such (which h e f o u n d fascinat-

ing) but the perennial scientific pretense t o incorporate everything within its domain, t o reduce every phenomenon t o forces and matters i n motion and universal laws o f attraction and repulsion. Hegel does point o u t a serious problem regarding even the middle-level laws, however; it is a problem also t o be found in Kant and will later form the basis o f Hegel's attack o n Kant’s ethics t o o . T h e problem is how t o apply a law, which is universal, t o any particular phenomenon (150, 154). T h e law cannot change to suit particular cases, b u t h o w else can it be made t o “fit?” K a n t suggests a complex system o f schemata which

Hegel calls “a scandal” [ i n the Logic] and “bones and sticks tied by string.” The danger here is that, i f laws are t o be applicable t o partic86. Roger Boscovich developed this theory i n his Theory of Natural Philosophy (1758). James Ogilvy has argued i n admirable detail the e x t e n t t o which Hegel's arguments i n “Force and the Understanding” are aimed directly a t showing how Boscovich’s single law-—just because i t was all-encompassing, explained nothing a t all. This t o o is warning about Hegel's ultimate attitude toward the “Absolute”; insofar as i t is everything, i t is ultimately n o t h i n g . Reality consists i n distinctions, forms, a n d particulars, n o t i n t h e all-

inclusive universal. Thus Heidegger's view o f Hegel as the last defender o f logos t u r n s o u t t o be false—at least i n the PG.

Hitching the Highway of Despair

376

ular phenomena, they will have t o be made more and more specific, a n d thus r u n the risk o f triviality because they are n o longer general

enough t o “add anything t o the phenomenon.” Understanding has this urge t o absolute unity and total comprehension, b u t i t cannot achieve this, according t o Hegel, a n d as it tries

become absolute, it pushes itself t o greater absurdities. Either i t finds itself simply repeating the descriptions o f the phenomena that to

are t o be comprehended o r i t proposes laws that are so general that

they no longer explain anything. How does scientific explanation avoid these problems?—by postulating a world b e h i n d the scenes, a “super-

sensible world” which the scientist knows but we (ordinary Volk) do n o t . Thus scientists talk about forces and a t o m s and gravity and genes and charges and ions and potentials t o explain various phenomena. B u t what is the s t a t u s o f these new entities? Have scientists

i n fact discovered them? O r are they nothing but theoretical postulates, projections o f the scientific understanding? I n m o r e Hegelian terms,

is this “supersensible world” a world o f laws and forces behind the phenomena’—or is i t rather a world within us, as i n Leibniz a n d Kant,

ultimately explicable i n t e r m s o f the activities o f consciousness? Here i n the Phenomenology and again i n the Logic, Hegel plays with this distinction between “outer” and “inner,” raising paradoxes and bringing about contradictions as understanding tries t o a c c o u n t for the “supersensible world” i t has allegedly “discovered.” B u t here the dialectic takes its most dramatic t u r n so far, for as soon as one tries t o

talk about the world beyond experience, as Kant had demonstrated so effectively i n his antinomies, one runs into contradictions. Then we face t w o equally absurd alternatives: either we have t o appeal t o a “real world,” “ i n itself,” behind and beyond our experiences, or we have t o admit that the world itself is contradictory. With this paradox, Hegel leads us into one o f the m o s t fascinating forms i n his entire philosophy—the so-called “inverted world,” which culminates his general attack on K a n t ’ still t o o conservative epistemology, on the “thing i n itself,” and on the entire scientific enterprise, insofar as it claims

to

give us an a c c o u n t o f a scientific Reality behind the scenes.

e. The Inverted World: The World as Contradiction Transcendental idealism, carried more consistently t o its logical conclusion, has recognized the emptiness o f that specter o f the thing-initself which t h e critical philosophy h a d left o v e r — a n abstract s h a d o w , d e t a c h e d from a l l c o n t e n t — a n d h a d i t i n v i e w t o demolish i t a l t o gether. —Hegel, Science of Logic

Consciousness and the Dialectic

377

I n “Force and Understanding,” we are introduced to “the supersensi-

ble world,” the world “behind the scenes.” To any philosophy student the phrase “supersensible world” refers us back t o Plato. I n his most dramatic parable, Plato i n the Republic tells the story o f prisoners i n a cave, w h o see only shadows; b u t reality (“the World o f Being,” the

realm o f “Forms”) which casts those shadows is beyond them, beyond the mere shadows (the “phenomena”) of daily experience. Why is the world of Forms more “real” than our day-to-day world? Because i t is eternal, because i t does n o t change. And this idea—that reality does n o t change—has reigned supreme throughout philosophy, from the very first philosophers i n Greece t o modern times. Philosophers have defined “substance,” for example, as that which underlies changes i n things—a classic Aristotelean definition. I n modern science t o o , the idea of unchanging laws, which explain changes i n events, has reigned supreme, even underlying much of relativity theory. Later, i n his Log, and sometimes i n the Phenomenology t o o , Hegel joins this ancient t r a d i t i o n a n d speaks o f “eternal Truth,” b u t here, at least, i n the section o f chapter 3 which deals w i t h “ t h e inverted w o r l d ” (die verkehrte Welt,

paras. 157-65), he is one o f those few radical thinkers who whole o f Western thought upside-down.

turns

the

Verkehrte means upside-down, “topsy-turvy,” o r inverted; b u t i t also means distorted, perverse.®” T h e theme o f the section can be simply

stated; the supersensible world of laws which we have been discussing becomes a second supersensible world—the inverted world—in which everything is the “opposite” of what it is: black is white, u p is down, left is r i g h t . I f we refer back to Plato’s famous parable, we can see the

familiar Hegelian twist; the supposedly “real” world o f Forms

turns

o u t n o t to be real at all; indeed, what is real is the fact that there are n o eternal forms, which Hegel expresses as the idea that “we have t o

think pure change” (160). I f we think instead o f the “supersensible world” as the world postulated by science t o explain phenomena, we can formulate a similar t w i s t — t h a t there is n o world o f “tranquil laws,” because laws change t o o , with phenomena. I n fact, there is no way the world is, since as we change o u r concepts, we change both the laws

and the world. The Absolute is

not

static but dynamic. The world

gives rise t o “contradictions” (Widerspruch). (This is the first discussion

o f this word). The world o f the understanding, the metaphysical pretension o f science, is shown t o give rise t o consequences which, by its o w n standards, i t m u s t find intolerable.

The supersensible world that m o s t occupies Hegel here, however, is neither Plato’s w o r l d o f Forms n o r the scientific r e a l m o f laws, b u t 87. Hegel had used the expression “verkehrte Welt” i n 1801 (in the CJP)

to

chastise

philosophers w h o i n v o k e d a n u n k n o w a b l e world b e h i n d the scenes, K a n t i n particular.

378

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

Kant'’s residual conception o f “the thing-in-itself.” We have seen that Hegel, following Kant, insists o n the importance o f what he calls “the unconditioned universal,” which we have interpreted as a priori concepts, which precede, rather than abstract from, the empirical details o f experience. B u t the concepts o f the understanding are not, after

all, “unconditioned” for Kant; they are “conditioned” by our conceptual apparatus, and their number is “fixed” a t twelve.®® But what Hegel really has i n mind here is contrasting the understanding, which is so “conditioned,” with the faculty o f Reason, which is “unconditioned.” But what this means is not just t h a t Reason is free t o change its concepts as Understanding is not; i t also means that Reason, u n l i k e

Understanding, deals with what Hegel unfortunately calls “the Infinite.” (He borrowed the t e r m from Schelling and Jacobi.) The “infinite,” however, just means “the world i n itself,” which is precisely what K a n t denied t o us as a n object o f knowledge. The supersensible world is “infinite” i n a bad sense just because i t is beyond us; i t 1s “ i n itself”

but n o t “for us”.® And Hegel's move here is t o deny “the thing i n itself” and Kant’s distinction between “appearance” (phenomenon, “the world as i t is for another”) a n d “ i n itself” (or noumenon, “ t h e world as

i t 1s for itself” ?!). Against Kant, Hegel wants t o insist that there is no supersensible world, t h a t the world of phenomena and the noumenal w o r l d are one a n d the same, o r “ i n a n d for itself,” “ i n itself” a n d “for

us.” But understanding, because it insists (that is, Kant insists) that i t is a “fixed” apparatus which is related to something “outside” o f it, c a n n o t be self-contained and c a n n o t reflect o n its o w n adequacy (as reason can). I t cannot be “infinite,” that is, “ t h e absolute u n r e s t o f

pure self-movement” (163); i t refers t o a world beyond itself, which it cannot know. Kant’s view o f the “thing-in-itself” is far more complicated than the “supersensible world” o f science, however. O n the one hand, there is the supersensible world, the “tranquil kingdom o f laws,” projected by 88. Kant admits i n the first Critique that he took over his list o f categories from the psychologists o f the day. Fichte thus accuses h i m o f failing t o be “systematic” and “de-

ducing” his categories,

a n d H e g e l complains

i n t h e Logic (142) t h a t K a n t

w a s completely

“uncritical” and p u t them together “ l i k e a shopping list.” Regarding Hegel’s general resistance t o “fixed” numbers, recall his a r g u m e n t against Christ’s apostles (also fixed at

12) i n his early Positivity-essay. 89. Logic, 45. 90. T h e allusion t o the “bad” infinite is drawn from Hegel's Logic (1 94). The bad

infinite i s a “ n e g a t i v e ” o r a “ m e r e b e y o n d ” ; t h u s mathematical infinity ( b e f o r e K a n t o r

a t the e n d o f t h e century) is defined as a n endless progression; the “ g e n u i n e ” infinity,

o n the other hand, is defined as self-containment, and this is the way Hegel uses this t e r m i n t h e PG. 91. N o t e again t h e inconsistent u s e o f t h e s e t e r m s . K a n t r e f e r s t o t h e “ n o u m e n o n ” as “ i n i t s e l f ” ; Hegel is b e i n g perverse.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

379

the understanding, and Kant sometimes suggests (in the first and i n the third Critiques) that the “thing-in-itself” is just such a projection too. B u t then o n the other hand, Kant sometimes insists that the world

“ i n itself” is the real world, intelligible through practical reason rather than understanding. This ambiguity is compounded by the fact that Kant systematically tries t o make the t w o equivalent, moving with remarkable ease between the view that the thing-in-itself is really “ i n us” (as “the self i n itself” —the position picked u p by Fichte and Schelling) and the view that the thing-in-itself is really “out there,” n o t a n object o f knowledge (except for G o d ) b u t r a t h e r the t r u e “ u n -

conditioned” (or Absolute)—which Jacobi claimed t o intuit, beyond the understanding.*? I n this section, Hegel plays on all this confusion by referring t o two supersensible worlds, which play themselves off against each other (157). I do n o t w a n t this almost unreadable section t o seem more lucid than i t is. Indeed, the beginning is so rough one almost wonders w h e t h e r t h e printer l e f t o u t a few lines o r so. B u t this m u c h is clear,

the “first supersensible world” is “the tranquil kingdom of laws” which is “the immediate copy o f the perceived world” (157). Notice the deliberate play on Plato here; the supersensible world is a copy o f appearances, r a t h e r t h a n the other way around. (This is already ver-

kehrte.) The “second supersensible world” is the inverted world, which Hegel tells us “is already present i n the “first supersensible world” and moreover “is completed as appearance” o f the first world, o f which

i t is the inversion (ibid.). Hegel goes on t o say that the first world “had its necessary counterpart i n this perceived world which still retained for itself the principle of change and alteration. The first kingdom o f laws lacked that prinicple, but obtains i t as an inverted world” (ibid.). Now what are we t o make of this? One suggestion? is that here Hegel is making his move against Plato, a la Aristotle, insisting n o t only t h a t the world o f appearance is the real world, but insisting too, what Aristotle a t least suggested, that reality is change. I n the view o f understanding, the truth m u s t be supersensible, for while appearances change, the laws that explain those appearances stay constant.

What Hegel is now starting t o argue is that the laws, as projections “beyond” a changing reality, have t o change t o o . Thus the first supersensible w o r l d , w h i c h was postulated t o e x p l a i n change (or, i n Plato,

Parmenides, and many Greek Philosophers,

to

dismiss change as n o t

92. Cf. Logic, 62. O n “ T h e C e n t r a l R o l e o f the T h i n g - I n - I t s e l f i n K a n t , ” see J. N . Findlay, Philosophical Forum, vol. XI11, n o . 1 (Fall, 1981) p p . 51-65. 93. H a n s Gadamer, “Hegel's I n v e r t e d World,” i n Hegel's Dialectic (Tubingen, 1971); i n English, trans. P. C h r i s t o p h e r S m i t h ( N e w H a v e n : Yale U n i v . Press, 1976), p . 44.

380

Hiitching the Highway of Despair

wholly “real”) “lacked a principle o f change” for itself, which was “still retained by the perceived world.” The inverted world, on this account, is “a reversal o f ontological emphasis,”?* a reminder o f the fact overlooked by metaphysicians and scientists alike that the world is n o t imperfect just because it never conforms exactly t o their theories. This i n itself would be persuasive, i f flimsily argued, b u t it is clear

that Hegel

wants t o

go much further than this; the second supersen-

sible world, the inversion o f the first, is real. What could this possibly

mean? Two suggestions have been prominent i n the literature; one is the idea that the inverted world offers us an intentionally ridiculous counter-example t o Kant’s notion of the “thing-in-itself”.*® The other suggestion is that the inverted world actually makes the point that the real world is itself contradictory.®® I now think that a better interpretation includes both of these—but first let us consider the merits of each i n its turn. I f one postulates a supersensible world t o explain the things and

o f the world we perceive, what must this world be like? The obvious suggestion is that i t m u s t contain properties and principles which will explain the order we perceive i n the sensible world. But this is n o t so. Kant argues that the very n a t u r e of the case is such events

most

that we cannot k n o w a n d have n o reason to suppose that the p r o p -

erties o f the thing-in-itself are anything like the properties we perceive i n things. Not only Kant but Berkeley and Hume t o o had argued against Locke that, once one has postulated objects beyond experience which cause our sensations, one has no justification whatever i n supposing that the objects which are the causes will be any-

thing like t h e objects w h i c h a r e i n f e r r e d from the effects. I n o t h e r words, i t might be that the things-in-themselves which cause us t o see red are themselves green, or no color a t all. I t is possible that electromagnetic forces “ i n themselves” might be forces o f a very different k i n d , perhaps just one more deception provided for us by the evil

demon that Descartes supposed was causing all kinds o f false beliefs 94. 1bid. 45. Robert Zimmerman has expanded on this idea that Hegel is here defending Aristotle against Plato, i n his “Hegel's ‘Inverted World’ Revisited,” Philosophical Forum, vol. X I I I , n o . 4 (Summer, 1982), p p . 3 4 2 - 7 0 .

95. For example, Joseph C. Flay, “Hegel's Inverted World,” i n The Review of Metaphysics, vol. XXIII, no. 4 (June 1970), p p . 662-78. I argued a similar thesis i n m y From Rationalism to Existentialism (1972), p . 59. I t is implied, I think, by Findlay’s short discus-

sion i n his Hegel, p . 92 (“the extremely queer, arbitrary fantasy o f an inverted world

96. The best development o f this view is Jay Ogilvy’s Reading Hegel (unpublished, 1974). Julius Sensat has argued i t persuasively, and Gadamer a t least anticipates it. Engels, o f course, swallowed i t straight i n his “dialectical materialism.”

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

381

i n us. I n the inverted world, sweet things are sour,” a n d pleasure is pain. Reward is punishment, a n d law is crime.®® Taken literally, this is

nonsense, but that is Just what i t is intended t o be, for this is a reductio ad absurdum argument against any notion o f a supersensible world; i f i t is the same as the sensible w o r l d , we d o n ’ t need i t . (This was Aris-

totle’s argument against Plato’s world of the Forms.) And if i t is different from the sensible world, i t makes no sense. (This lead t o Plato’s o w n reservation about his theory and the so-called “ t h i r d m a n ” ar-

gument.) I n either case, we have no need o f a world beyond appearances, a n d this conclusion follows directly from everything else that

Hegel has been arguing i n this chapter. The need for a second interpretation arises because of Hegel's mode o f expression, his insistence that the second supersensible world, the inverted world, is the “completion” of appearance (157) and is n o t only “ a n inverted actual world,” but i n some sense “the perceived world” (159). H e g e l argues that one cannot, because o f what we have already

argued, accept so simple a distinction as “inner” and “outer,” “appearance and the supersensible, as o f t w o different kinds o f actuality” (ibid.). So there is a sense i n which “sourness which would be the initself o f the sweet thing is actually a thing just as much as the latter, viz. a sour t h i n g ; black, which w o u l d be the in-itself o f white, is a n actual black,” a n d so o n . T h i s sounds absurd, but, o n this second in-

terpretation, i t is n o t . The principle o f the inverted world (given i n 156) is this; . . . the difference exhibits itself as difference o f the thing itself o r as

absolute difference, and this difference o f the thing is thus nothing else b u t the selfsame that has repelled itself from itself, and there-

fore merely posits an antithesis which is none. I t is n o t a model o f clarity, I g r a n t you, b u t the point can be stated: there are n o distinctions o r divisions i n the world as such (the Abso97. The example and discussion come from the Theaetetus (1606): . . i n accordance with the a c c o u n t we accepted earlier, agent and patieni give birth t o sweetness and a sensation, both movements that pass simultaneously. The sensation, o n the patient’s SOCRATES:.

side, makes t h e tongue percipient, while, o n the side o f the wine, ithe sweetness, m o v i n g i n the

region o f the wine, causes i t both

to

be and

to

appear

sweet 1 0

the healthy tongue.

SOCRATES: Rather, when I become percipient, I m u s t become percipient of something, for 1 cannot have a perception and have i t o f nothing, and equally the object, when i t becomes swee1 o r sour and s o o n , m u s t b e c o m e s o to someone—it c a n n o t become s w e e t and y e t s w e e t t o nobody.

98. T h e reference is m o s t immediately t o K a n t , f o r w h o m t h e l a w is “intelligible” and the punishment “sensible.” I n Hegel’s early essays, particularly his essay on “Natural Law,” he o b j e c t e d t o K a n t — f o l l o w i n g F i c h t e and Schelling—on t h e basis o f t h e absurdities t h a t this s e p a r a t i o n g e n e r a t e d in any a t t e m p t t o d e v e l o p a t h e o r y o f l a w a n d o f citizens t r e a t e d as r a t i o n a l subjects, n o t “ o b j e c t s ” ( c o e r c e d by t h e t h r e a t o f punishment). S e e m y d i s c u s s i o n i n C h a p t e r 3 , “ T h e P r o f e s s i o n a l Years.”

382

Hatching the Highway of Despair

lute), b u t rather all distinctions a n d divisions, all “differences” are

made through conceptualization. Hegel often uses the phrase “the selfsame that has repelled itself from itself”, a n d also “ a difference

that 1s no difference”

to

refer

to

the idea that a c o n t r a s t 1s made by us

rather than i n the thing-itself as such, a n d this means that there is a sense i n which opposites are mutually necessary; we could n o t pick o u t colors i f we h a d o n l y one color; we could n o t have a concept o f light w i t h o u t a concept o f d a r k , o r n o r t h without south, o r left without

right. To say that the world is contradictory, on this account, is

therefore t o say something rather tame; it is t o say that the w o r l d consists o f distinctions a n d one could n o t have one side without the other. O n e could n o t have a concept o f crime without a concept o f

punishment. (This is like the British quip about the only sure way o f stopping crime is t o repeal the laws.) I t is through distinctions that the world acquires its form, and it 1s through these disunctions that change i n the world is possible,—for where there are no distinctions, there is nothing t o change. (A formless mass remains formless; changes i n i t d o n ’ t c o u n t as changes.) B u t to call the w o r l d “contradictory,”

or “antithesis within antithesis” is an extravagant way o f pointing this o u t . ” There is a further argument here, however, which H e g e l himself seems only to indicate, and i t is here that the inverted world takes o n

a profound significance i n the Phenomenology and i n philosophy i n general. Not only is Hegel arguing that reality is essentially change (along with Heraclitus and Aristotle and against Parmenides and Plato) and that there is no “supersensible world” (along with Fichte and against Kant) and that distinctions i n the world are made by us and inevitably

i n opposition; he is also arguing, in a hands-down no-holds-barred attack on what he calls “finite thinking”—mere understanding—that the world itself is genuinely contradictory.'%® This will horrify every 99. Gadamer r a t h e r c h a r m i n g l y comments at this p o i n t that “Hegel is a Schwabian,

and startling people is his passion, just as i t is the passion o f all Schwabians” (p. 37). This m i g h t s o u n d o d d l y a d hominem t o English ears, b u t i t is n o t uncommon i n t h e

German literature—particularly i n reference t o Hölderlin (also a Schwabian), since poets are apparently less immune t o ad hominem accounts o f their conceptual behavior. See, for example, Michael Hamburger, Reason and Energy, ch. 1. O n the role o f o u r expectations a n d concepts i n the phenomenology o f change, see Jean-Paul Sartre’s discussion

o f “destruction” in the chapter on “Negation” i n Being and Nothingness, t r a n s . H . Barnes (New York: Philosophical Library, 1956). 100. I t has become one o f the bromides o f Hegel criticism that Hegel rejects the law

of non-contradiction. Thus Eduard Von Hartmann argues that the dialectic is just this, and Richard Kroner praises Hegel as “ t h e greatest irrationalist i n t h e history of philosophy.” Jay Ogilvy protects Hegel by distinguishing between logical contradiction and “ d i a l e c t i c a l c o n t r a d i c t i o n ” (p. 273ff.) a n d i n t e r p r e t s t h e i n v e r t e d w o r l d s e c t i o n a c c o r d ing t o t h e l a t t e r . H e thus r e j e c t s Flay's (and my) reductio a d absurdum i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o n t h e grounds t h a t “Hegel d o e s n o t u s e such i n d i r e c t a r g u m e n t s ” (275) a n d “reductio

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

383

logician since Aristotle, o f course, b u t Hegel does n o t have i n m i n d the logically absurd proposal that both P a n d not-P are true i n the same sense and i n the same context. Hegel too sees outright c o n t r a diction as intolerable, a n d i t 1s because o f contradiction a n d lesser

difficulties that the dialectic o f the Phenomenology moves from form t o form. But Hegel, unlike Kant and many contemporary logicians, does n o t see contradiction as a mere dead-end, a n e n d o f a reductio ad absurdum argument from which one must either reject the premises

(“indeterminate negation”) or, as Karl Popper unfairly argued against Hegel i n his Open Society and Its Enemies (1945), accept i t as a n absurd-

ity from which anything follows. The topic here alluded t o , but

not

actually discussed, is Kant’s antinomies. B u t Hegel does discuss t h e m i n his Logic, a n d there we can quickly find the tools to t u r n the in-

verted world o f the Phenomenology into a considerable challenge n o t t o K a n t ’ philosophy i n the first Crifigue (that is, insofar as Kant still believed i n the thing-in-itself and the limitation of knowledge t o understanding) but t o the very idea o f the autonomy o f knowledge and the independence of science.

only

T h e argument, which we have already anticipated, is this; K a n t ar-

gued that pairs o f contradictory principles could be validly derived whenever we t r y to ascertain the nature o f the thing-in-itself, the “ u n known x ” beyond o u r experiences. These are the antinomies. B u t Kant’s claim has t o be broken into t w o parts, one the possibility o f

knowing the thing-in-itself, the other the possibility o f knowing anything beyond our experiences. According t o Hegel, the world we experience is the thing-in-itself, the Absolute, and there is nothing t o know o r even imagine beyond the realm o f experience. This means

that the antinomies m u s t be given a very different interpretation; as arguments about the world beyond our experience, they are indeed nonsense. But as arguments about the world of our experience, they are n o t t o be taken as nonsense a t all, n o r as the “illusions” that K a n t

considered them; they are rather an important clue about the n a t u r e arguments presuppose the untruth o f contradiction” (276). Ogilvy argues that things a r e n o t a l w a y s as t h e y appear, b u t this is n o t t o say that t h e r e is a world b e y o n d appearance. So far, so good. B u t t h e n h e also argues that “ t h e r e is a sense i n which x, w h i c h appears t o b e a , can only b e u n d e r s t o o d as a t o t h e e x t e n t that i t is also d e t e r m i n e d by t h e opposite o f a o r a*. B u t in what sense c a n w e then s a y t h a t x i s a * ? — a n d i t is here that I

think

t h e s e c o n d i n t e r p r e t a t i o n t a k e s a d v a n t a g e o f H e g e l ' s o w n misstatement; t o

say that x is a b y way o f contrast t o a * is i n n o sense t o say that x is a*. Gadamer, o n the o t h e r h a n d , presents t h e section as a satire, i n w h i c h t h e inversion o f the (first) supersensible world by the second is i n t u r n an inversion o f itself as appearance. Ogilvy responds that a * is n o t t h e same as negation (“not-a”) a n d so “ ( a / a * ) * " is n o t necessarily a l o g i c a l c o n t r a d i c t i o n , b u t this i s s t i l l a “difficulty” sufficient f o r Hegel t o c o n c l u d e what e v e r y o n e agrees t h a t h e c o n c l u d e s , t h a t understanding as s u c h i s a n inadequate vehicle

o f knowledge.

Hitching the Highway of Despair

384

of reality, the

nature

o f the Absolute. The clue is this; that different

concepts and different arguments give us different views o f the world. Consider, for instance, Kant’s t h i r d antinomy;

Thesis: there are i n the world causes through freedom [i.e. free actions].

Antithesis: there is no freedom, but only natural causes. B o t h are provable, a n d i n fact, K a n t accepts them b o t h (the first as true of the world-in-itself, the second as t r u e o f phenomena). They provide very different views of the world, but Hegel, unlike Kant, is staunchly unwilling t o distinguish t w o worlds for them t o be t r u e of, respectively. Thus both m u s t be t r u e , i f Kant is right, o f the same

world, a world that is, therefore, contradictory.

This is a paradox. I t is n o t , as Marx and Engels seemed t o think, t h e m o s t i m p o r t a n t r e s u l t o f H e g e l ' s argument; it i s r a t h e r o n e m o r e

difficulty t o be overcome. I f Hegel believed i n a world-in-itself against

which we could match our various conceptions, we could decide (in theory a t least) which one is c o r r e c t . B u t there is n o world apart from

our conceptions of it. I f there were different worlds, for different views t o be true of, t h e n the contradiction would be resolved (for

example, the way t h a t “all m e n are selfish” is a good premise t o use i n a poker game b u t a falsehood a t a Quaker meeting). B u t there is b u t one world, n o matter h o w fragmented i t may be (and, i n any case,

the fragmentation, according n o t only t o Hegel but the whole o f his generation—Schiller and Hölderlin particularly—is our doing.) The question is, H o w are these contradictory fragments t o be seen t o gether? This is a q u e s t i o n t h a t K a n t does n o t answer, a t least, n o t i n

his first Critique. The fault, Hegel concludes, lies with the understanding itself, which dogmatically insists that there is but a single set o f categories for knowledge which are a prior: valid independently of any other considerations. To say that the world itself is contradictory is n o t t o say that propositions o f the form “p and not-p” are true. I t is rather t o say that

idealism has come t o t e r m s with the idea that different conceptions o f the way the world really is might be equally compatible with the evidence and equally logical, even i f they are contradictory. There is no “way the world really is” against which we can compare and choose between them. This, I take it, is what one might insert, i n the spirit if n o t the letter of Hegel, as the final argument o f “Force and the Understanding,” that the inverted world is a n argument n o t only against the thing-in-

itself and the idea o f a supersensible world—which i t is—and n o t only t o t h e e x t e n t t o which w e c r e a t e rather t h a n find t h e distinctions

Consciousness and the Dialectic

385

between things—which i t also is; i t is a resounding declaration against “dogmatism,” as opposed t o “speculation” (Phenomenology 54f.; Logic, 32). Dogmatism approaches the world with fixed categories; speculation 1s flexible enough t o adjust its concepts as it changes through experience. Dogmatism tells us what must be behind “the curtain t o the i n n e r w o r l d ” ; speculative Hegel tells us, “ l e t us instead g o behind

that curtain ourselves” (paraphrase of 165).1°! The truth o f consciousness is n o t to be found i n the facts o f the world, i n sweet a n d sour, black a n d white, n o r t h a n d south, etc.; i t is t o be found r a t h e r i n the

o f consciousness itself, its self. I t is the self that is behind the curtain, and what we have done so far is worry t o o much about what is merely “objective”; that is, what knowledge is about. At this point, a nature

very different set o f questions comes t o the fore, n o longer b y way o f a quest for a theory o f knowledge but rather for an a c c o u n t o f the self that has that knowledge. That self is not, like Kant’s “transcen-

dental ego,” a purely knowing self; i t is, first o f all, a biological creatrying t o make his or her way i n the world. The world o f knowledge is n o t a dead world of “objects”; i t 1s a world of conscious, active, passionate, and thinking beings. And t u r e , a human being engaged i n

insofar as the world is t o be understood i n t e r m s o f some underlying

“inner” dynamic, the key t e r m c a n n o t be Newton’s physical concept o f “force” but rather the biological concept of “Life”, the animism o f the cosmos which had defined so much o f German philosophy and poetry from Leibniz and the Gothic mystics t o Fichte, Schelling, and Holderlin.

f. Knowledge and Desire: Hegel's Pragmatic Turn (the first pages of chapter 4) I exist n o t as transcendental subject . . . b u t as a concrete subject i n c o n t a c t with a real world, and i n such a way that comprehension 1s like a personal victory; Eureka! —Mikel Dufrenne

Hegel ends the chapter o n “Force and the Understanding” with the paradoxical invitation that we “go behind the so-called curtain which is supposed t o conceal the inner world,” but only by giving u p understanding and its limitations and starting a “more complex movement,” namely, “ o f what consciousness knows i n knowing itself” (165). This should n o t surprise anyone who is familiar with Kant; knowledge o f self, for Kant—self n o t as abstract “transcendental ego” but 101.

The

e n t a l mystics.

“curtain”

metaphor,

presumably, r e f e r s t o t h e “ v e i l

of

Maya” of the

Ori-

386

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

self as a rational agent i n the world—is knowledge o f things i n them-

selves, n o t mere appearances. Kant believes, though he would

not

have p u t i t this way, that o u r contact w i t h the world-in-itself, n o t as

mere appearance or phenomenon, is primarily practical. So far, we have taken the “subject”—the “ I ” that has knowledge, confronts the object, sorts o u r properties, contributes concepts—entirely for granted. I t is a n observational “ I , ” a mere spectator, even when it provides the regal activity o f bestowing concepts o n that which i t watches (like a judge issuing orders while sitting o n his bench). B u t

this is a false view o f self, a faulty view o f our roles i n the world, and an inadequate view o f knowledge. We saw this i n the previous section when we watched Hegel pursue some precocious ideas which seemed t o result i n the paradoxes o f pure knowing; something was ultimately left o u t , namely, a c r i t e r i o n t h a t w o u l d allow us t o choose between

alternative theoretical frameworks and would lead us t o prefer one

view o f the world over others. I t is the understandings own criterion for adequacy that i t must choose only one theory as “true,” the way

the world really is. What was left o u t , we can now suggest—by way of still another hypothesis about knowledge—was an a c c o u n t o f the self 19? and its znterests. Knowledge doesn’t come i n a vacuum. Even i n a laboratory or a seminar r o o m (as close as one can come to a vacuum sometimes), one

has a reputation a t stake, o r one is concerned about the opinions o f others; one wants one’s w o r k t o be recognized, one has previous i n -

tellectual debts and commitments

to

be honored, positions already on

record, theories vehemently defended, antagonists t o be defeated,

friends t o be complimented, deficiencies i n information t o be protected, clever arguments ready t o be presented a t the slightest instigation, limited equipment, a clumsy assistant who is n o t t o be trusted, an important visitor t o be impressed, a childhood prejudice that has n o t b e e n o v e r c o m e , a b a d experience i n g r a d u a t e school, a g r a n t

pending before the National Science Foundation, the possibility o f an offer from Stanford and, n o t least, one’s p r i d e , one’s sense o f indep e n d e n c e as a scientist o r scholar, one’s sense o f conquest i n discovery,

one’s sense o f possessiveness when that discovery is “mine!” (“Eureka!” shouted Archimedes i n his bathtub, providing the model for scientific discovery ever since.) One might argue that scientists and science are t o be “purified” of such tangential and merely personal motives i n favor o f the pure im1 0 2 . This p o i n t h a s b e e n d e v e l o p e d i n particular b y Jürgen Habermas i n h i s Knowl-

edge and Human Interests, particularly in ch. 1, “Hegel's Critique o f Kant,” and ch. 9. “ R e a s o n a n d I n t e r e s t : R e t r o s p e c t o n K a n t a n d F i c h t e ” ( B o s t o n : B e a c o n Press, 1971).

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

387

personal motives o f the seeker after truth, the detached observer, the selfless experimenter, b u t this is n o t so simple as i t seems. I n fact, i t is recently respectible t o argue that even these supposedly pure and impersonal factors are wholly grounded i n the personality of the scientist, a n d i n any case, there are few theoretical contexts—even i n the bowels o f science—which are even plausibly purified from per-

sonal and practical considerations. Thus we have an unprecented number o f r e c e n t debates about the responsibilities of science, and it is now a n almost unchallengeable assertion that science never operates i n a social vacuum, that knowledge always m u s t consider its practical

ramifications and consequences. B u t this is, after all, a rather t a m e argument. I t leaves Kant’s separation o f knowledge and action unchallenged; i t demands only that one pursue the first with an eye t o the second. Hegel's argument is m u c h m o r e radical,—and h e gets i t primarily from Fichte. T h e ar-

gument is that one cannot have knowledge without consideration o f its practical and personal c o n t e x t . Hegel begins t o demonstrate this, using Kant’s antinomies as his starting point, i n the “Inverted World” section of chapter 3; namely, i f only theoretical factors are considered—that is, evidence and inferences, hypotheses and questions o f consistency, coherence, and simplicity—any phenomenon or set o f phenomena can be explained by several radically different hypotheses, each o f which takes i n t o a c c o u n t all o f the evidence a n d satisfies

the other criteria for adequacy t o o . The proof o f this is quite simple (one finds i t i n a different c o n t e x t i n Descartes); through any number o f finite points, any number o f lines can be drawn. So t o o , given any

finite collection o f evidence, any number (but let us just say “several”) hypotheses can be made t o fit. What can we use t o choose between them, since we have already used all our theoretical considerations i n their formulation? Some philosophers a t this point—notably Thomas K u h n i n his Structure of Scientific Revolutions'**—have argued t h a t i t is a m a t t e r o f fashion, w h a t counts a t t h e t i m e as “normal science.” T h u s

Copernicus and Newton ultimately toppled Ptolemy and Aristotle because their ideas h a d found their time. B u t this is clearly insufhcient;

what is left o u t are all those factors that scientists and many philosophers of science refuse t o acknowledge, except negatively. Scientific theory is shaped n o t just b y fashion b u t b y the whole temperament o f the time—metaphysical prejudices, m o r a l commitments, religious 103. Polanyi, Personal Knowledge (New York: Harper & Row, 1962). 1 0 4 . Kuhn, Structure o f Scientific Revolutions. See also P a u l Feyerabend, Against Method

a n d , for a n even m o r e radical version o f this thesis, A l f r e d Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and M a n u a l Labor: A Critique of Epistemology (Atlantic H i g h l a n d s , N.J.: Humanities Press, 1978).

388

Hitching the Highway of Despair

faith a n d doctrines, one’s sense o f communication with o r alienation

from n a t u r e , as well as what will satisfy the ego of the individual scientist and give him or her the recognition craved, no m a t t e r how hesitantly.'%®

I t is perhaps the single-most important transition in the Phenomenology that takes us from “Force and the Understanding” t o “SeltConsciousness,” for as Hegel tells us, “with self-consciousness, we have therefore entered the native r e a l m o f t r u t h ” (166). T h e argument, as always, takes t w o steps, o n e o f w h i c h w e h a v e a l r e a d y discussed i n

detail. That is, first H e g e l must show us that the first form o f con-

sciousness, the understanding, breaks down according

to

its own 1n-

ternal difhculties. ( I n fact, the form itself contains a n u m b e r o f different moves, each o f which has this same two-step form: (1) hypothesis to

breakdown, (2) positing o f a new hypothesis.) The breakdown i n

understanding, simply stated, is that i t cannot d o what it claims t o be

able t o do—give us a view o f knowledge which will

not

only

account

for o u r identification o f particular objects ( w h i c h i t does) b u t also ac-

count for changes and relations between objects, explain these i n a single, all-embracing theory which is uniquely true, “the way the world really is.” Instead, we find a series o f tautologies a n d metaphysical pretensions w h i c h , w h e n p u s h e d , e m e r g e n o t i n a single t h e o r y b u t i n con-

tradictory theories, equally valid. Even i f some o f Hegel's objections t o science a r e dubious, t o say t h e least, t h e force o f h i s o v e r - a l l a r g u -

is considerable; we are led t o “aufheben” the claims o f understanding and the detached view o f science and invited t o look a t something quite different, the knowing self and the personal, practical parameters o f knowledge. Again, i t m u s t be pointed o u t that there is no necessity o f giving up ment

understanding; after Hegel, there will still be scientists, just as dedicated t o their work as before. B u t they m u s t live with the “contradic-

tions” that science (not Hegel) has produced for itself; they can do so, and they can rationalize them i n any o f a hundred ways. The contradiction Hegel has shown us here is n o t a logical absurdity, i n the sense 105. This argument 1s easily t w i s t e d i n t o t h e o b j e c t i o n t h a t it is a n e x c u s e for scientists t o give u p the “integrity o f their subject” and all “scientific standards” and t o claim and publish whatever is i n t u n e with the times and will give them recognition. But in discussing t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f personal and practical considerations, w e are already as-

suming compliance with the canons o f rigor, that the hypothesis is reasonable and consistent, t h e a p p a r a t u s c l e a n , a n d t h e e x p e r i m e n t actually carried o u t successfully. T h e question then is, given equal competence and integrity i n a Papuan witch doctor and Dr. Salk, each o f them with a hypothesis about the causes and cures o f a still uncontrolled disease, what grounds are there for choosing between them? This is emphatic a l l y n o t a n a r g u m e n t t h a t q u a c k s a n d charlatans, if t h e y s u c c e e d i n g a i n i n g recognition,

are thereby successful i n their pursuit o f knowledge.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

389

that i t entails that we must give u p the search for a single all-embracing

theory o f the world, i n which consciousness itself does n o t play an essential role, as an unintelligible pursuit. I t is only a powerful argum e n t that we o u g h t t o d o so, that i f we are looking for Truth w r i t large, science a n d understanding are probably n o t where t o find it.

Perhaps we should also point o u t the dominance o f the physical sciences i n these chapters, chapter 3 especially, and one might well argue that Hegel's arguments here are intended primarily against Newtonian science, explanations i n terms of forces and general laws. There are other sciences which operate with a very different set o f proce-

dures and considerations (we shall discuss them i n the following section i n o u r discussion o f Hegel's chapter 5 sec. A).!1%¢

The argument for the practical dimensions o f knowledge had already been anticipated i n Hegel's marvelous but misplaced comment i n chapter 1: E v e n animals a r e n o t s h u t o u t f r o m t h i s wisdom

but, o n

t h e contrary,

show themselves t o be m o s t profoundly initiated into i t ; for they d o n o t just stand idly i n front o f things as i f these possessed intrinsic being, but, despairing of their reality, and completely assured o f their nothingness, they fall t o without ceremony and e a t them up. (Phe-

nomenology, 109)

T h e p o i n t can be m a d e t h a t animals k n o w things too, b u t the sugges-

tion that such knowledge is merely observational, a search for the best explanation o r a detached attempt to formulate a single all-embracing theory, is obviously nonsense. ( I n chapter 1, Hegel’s point was the

perishability o f particulars). N o t only i n animals but for us too,

knowledge is primarily practical. Perhaps the best argument for this thesis i n recent times is Martin Heidegger's protracted discussion i n Being and Time. Arguing against his teacher, Edmund Husserl, who held an unabashedly theoretical view o f consciousness (with mathematics his primary interest), Heidegger suggested instead that our “natural viewpoint i n the world” is n o t as observer but as being-there (“dasein”), and the entities we come t o know are n o t “ T h i n g s ” (as i n Hegel's chapter 2) but rather tools and instruments, with which we can

do things and satisfy our desires. 106. By way o f anticipation, one might c o n t r a s t explanations o f human behavior which are self-consciously “mechanical” i n their methods, insisting upon “operational” definitions and variables which can be measured by a n “outside” observer—B.F. Skinner’s behaviorism, f o r example, w i t h accounts o f h u m a n behavior that m a k e essential

appeal t o “ i n n e r ” variables such as desires and purposes and the intentions and outlook

o f the subject—in r e c e n t “humanist” and “existential” psychology, for example. Charles Taylor puts considerable s t r e s s o n this aspect o f Hegel’s thinking i n both o f his Hegel books, following u p his n o w classic defense of teleology i n the human sciences in The Purpose o f B e h a v i o r ( N e w Y o r k : Humanities Press, 1965).

Hitching the Highway o f Despair

390

The phenomenon o f Being-in has for the m o s t part been represented exclusively by a single exemplar—knowing the world . . . even p r a c t i c a l b e h a v i o r h a s b e e n u n d e r s t o o d as “non-theoretical.”! °

Heidegger characterizes o u r “primordial” attitude toward the world as concern (Besorge) and the entities we come t o know n o t as things b u t

as “equipment”: We shall call these entities which we encounter i n concern “equipm e n t ” . . . every entity o f this k i n d 1s n o t grasped thematically (that is, k n o w n theoretically), n o r is the equipment structure k n o w n as

such i n the using of it. The hammerer does n o t simply have knowledge about the hammer’s character as equipment, but has appropriated this equipment . . . the less we just stare at the hammer- Thing, a n d the m o r e we seize h o l d o f i t a n d use i t , the more primordial does o u r relationship t o i t become, a n d the m o r e unveiledly it is

encountered as that which i t 1s—as equipment.'®®

I t might seem o d d t o quote Heidegger—who is n o t k n o w n for his

clarity—in explaining Hegel, but Hegel is impossibly obscure i n the first few pages o f chapter 4, so m u c h so that even the best commentators sometimes prefer t o view these paragraphs (166-77) as a mere

preliminary t o the much more manageable “Master and Slave” relationship that follows.!® What is obvious here is that Hegel is making a shift from consciousness, which is concerned primarily with the objects o f knowledge, t o self-consciousness, which is concerned rather

with the subject o f knowledge. But then, the notion o f “knowledge” just about drops o u t altogether, the essence o f (self-)consciousness is n o w said t o be “desire” (Begierde) (167) a n d the object is said t o have

become “Life” (168). Life i n t u r n is claimed

to

have “issued from the

Concept,” a n d is defined as “self-enclosed infinity” (168). T h e new

criterion is said t o be “independence” (169). Being is said t o be “no longer abstract” but “that simple fluid substance o f pure m o v e m e n t w i t h i n itself” (ibid.). A n d then, all o f a sudden, we are told that the

object o f desire becomes “another self-consciousness”—another person. This is obviously the m o s t dramatic transition o f the book thus tar. But what is Hegel doing here? The general t e n o r o f the commentaries seems t o be that here the dialectic becomes a literal process o f “growth,” from desire t o desire for other people and then desire for other people’s recognition. This may be both plausible as a developmental theory and as an interpre107. Heidegger, Being and Time, trans. MacQuarrie a n d Robinson ( N e w York: Har-

per and Row, 1962), p. 59. 108. Ibid. 68-69. 109. E.g., Kaufmann, p. 152; Findlay, p . 94; Royce, Lectures on German Idealism (New

York, 1964), p. 1524f.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

391

tation o f Hegel's sequence. B u t this short section is n o t simply a sum-

mary of a child’s development from infancy t o the latency period, and the obscurity o f these passages should be proof enough o f that.110 What is going on here is just as important as i t is complicated, for it is i n these t e r s e and sometimes unintelligible pages that one can find or r e c o n s t r u c t what is probably the m o s t important single philosophical twist i n the entire Phenomenology. (One might call i t a “Heideggerjan

twist” were i t

not

for the fact that Heidegger learned i t from He-

gel, and, f r o m , Fichte.)!!! Whenever H e g e l gets the most opaque, i t is a reasonable supposi-

tion that he may be paraphrasing some other philosopher, equally obscure. The most evasive passages i n chapters 2 and 3 can sometimes be traced t o more o r less verbatim literal translations from Plato o r Aristotle o r Parmenides, a n d the vague references h e r e i n c h a p t e r

4 are distinctly identifiable as Fichte’s philosophy i n the Wissenschaft-

lehre, which Hegel had reviewed a t great length only a few years before (in his Differenz-essay, i n the journal he edited with Schelling, i n 1801.)!!? W i t h this i n m i n d , we can recall Fichte’s revision o f Kant,

breaking down the division between knowledge and practical matters (summarized as “freedom”), and trying t o “systematize” Kant’s entire philosophy as essentially practical. B u t what “practical” means, i n this

Fichtean context, is n o t so much the nuts-and-bolts pragmatism o f William James or John Dewey (who were, however, much influenced by Hegel), b u t rather the general concerns of“ s e l f ” — a sense o f moral integrity, a sense o f freedom a n d autonomy. I n d e e d , i n Fichte’s u n -

compromising “ethical idealism,” t o be preoccupied with knowledge, science, and the “objectifying” attitudes of understanding was t o show oneself t o be a kind o f inferior human being, unconcerned with life and oblivious t o the moral struggles which define us. This is the view that Hegel is offering us here—through a glass darkly—that the proper view o f consciousness is self-consciousness and our proper concern is 110. Cf. Taylor, Hegel, p . 15011; Findlay, p . 93f; Soll, p . 7 ff.

111. N o t surprisingly, t h e r e f o r e , perhaps t h e single b e s t exposition o f this s e c t i o n is t o be found i n one o f Heidegger's students: Hans Georg Gadamer, i n his Hegel's Dialectic, pp. 54—74. 112. T h e r e is a second, cloudier set o f allusions here, t o t h e ancient philosopher Heraclitus. T h e v i e w o f l i f e s t a t e d i n

this section so opaquely i s arguably t h e pan-vital-

ism o f the pre-Socratics, which H ö l d e r l i n and Goethe i n particular proposed as an alternative t o t h e “ o n t o l o g y o f d e a t h ” o f m o d e r n physics (Hans Jonas, The P h e n o m e n o n of Life ( N e w York: Dell, 1966)). I t is Heraclitus w h o insists t h a t a l l o f life is “opposition

and

a g r e e m e n t , ” a n d H e g e l suggests i n his l a t e r Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy t h a t “ i n H e r a c l i t u s w e see t h e p e r f e c t i o n o f k n o w l e d g e so far as i t h a s g o n e , a p e r f e c t i n g o f

the Idea i n t o a totality which is the beginning o f philosophy . . . the unity o f opposites” p. 283). I n t h e E n c y c l o p a e d i a H e g e l t o o defines life as “ c o n t r a d i c t i o n o f

(Lectures, v o l . 1,

s e l f - r e c o g n i t i o n a n d self-estrangement, o f i n n e r essence a n d o u t e r a p p e a r a n c e as t h e

immediate Idea,” (87) a n d as “self-relating universality” (89,216).

Hitching the Highway of Despair

392 n o t so

much knowing as living. But, as always, this is n o t a view that

H e g e l is endorsing as such; i t is one possible a n d appropriate re-

sponse t o the paradoxes o f Understanding and the excessive zeal with which the physical sciences had recently declared their absolute autonomy and superiority t o all other human enterprises. But Hegel had taken from Schelling the view that Fichte was simply too unsym!!* Hegel and pathetic t o science and consequently t o o “one-sided.” Schelling, on the other hand, were by no means “anti-science” but rather just aiming a t putting science—in particular the physical sciences—in their place. Although the preliminary move in chapter 4 is t o “self-consciousness,” this o p e n i n g section is n o t yet about selfhood. I t is Hegel's view, which

he

states

bluntly, that the self as such is n o t simply “given” i n experi-

ence b u t is rather constituted i n o u r reflection o f i t . This is a p r i m a r y

difference between self-understanding and understanding objects putatively “outside o f us”; one can a t least make a realist case for the fact

that

objects are outside o f us a n d independent o f o u r philosoph-

ical reflections, but there is no such clear case t o be made regarding the self. “ T h e k i n d o f philosophy a m a n chooses determines the kind o f m a n o n e is,” w r o t e F i c h t e ; a n d h e a r g u e d , as H e g e l will a r g u e too,

that the different attitudes we take toward ourselves determine those selves. But despite the m o m e n t o u s differences between the topics of the earlier chapters and the chapter on self-consciousness, they are essentially related. The argument i n the first three chapters has a t tempted t o show t h a t objects are n o t “given” i n experience but depend upon our conceptions o f them. The argument here, with “selfcertainty” rather than “sense-certainty,” repeats the argument o f the

first chapter, t h a t the “ I ” is nothing i n particular; i t is an “empty universal” and “everyone can equally refer t o himself as ‘ I ' ” (102). Thus Hegel's comment o n Descartes’s “Cogito” is that i t is vacuous; a n d h e comments t h a t

Fichte’s statement o f the same principle o f immediate

self-recognition ( “ I = I ” ) is simply a “motionless tautology” (167). B u t this means that, initially, “Self-Consciousness” doesn’t have m u c h t o

talk about, for the self o f which we are conscious is n o t a thing but a '! process, whose development we are just beginning t o investigate. I n terms o f the dialectic, one can recognize this section as a Fichtean 113.

Differenz-essay, p.

126f.

1 1 4 . I n t h i s c o n t e x t especially, i t i s i m p o r t a n t t o remember Hegel's p r a i s e o f K a n t

for “emancipating mental philosophy from the ‘soul-thing’.” But Hegel criticizes Kant for n o t doing s o for t h e right r e a s o n s , namely, t h a t t h e s e l f is n o t only “a m e r e simple o r u n c h a n g e a b l e sort o f t h i n g ” b u t “ a c t i v e a n d institutes distinctions i n i t s o w n n a t u r e ”

(Logic, 47).

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

hypothesis, namely, that knowledge

must

393

be understood only within

the r e a l m o f practice, as a p a r t o f life a n d subservient t o o t h e r concerns. Conflicting theories, views, o r paradigms i n science can be re-

solved or chosen only within the domain of this larger context. Fichte’s own example was the conflict he perceived between the t w o “standpoints” of Kant’s first t w o Critiques,—our view o f ourselves as knowers a n d as objects i n nature, o n the one hand, a n d o u r view o f ourselves as actors a n d as free agents o n the other. T o resolve this conflict b y a n

appeal

to

practical considerations was t o beg the question, since of

course practical considerations would tend t o favor the practical view-

point. The general strategy o f Hegel's positioning Fichte here (and also at the beginning o f chapter 5) is clear enough; the quest for a

theory o f knowledge, once i t has broken down within its own demand for absolute autonomy, is replaced by a different kind of quest. Knowledge needs further considerations t o choose between conflicting views; Hegel, via Fichte, suggests the practical exigencies o f life, i n particular,

desire.

I t is important

to

make n o t e o f

two

points here—first, that this

section, because i t reminds us o f what is most “ p r i m i t i v e ” to con-

sciousness, might well have been given as the beginning o f the Phenomenology, a starting point just as “natural” as the “natural consciousness” o f simple knowing i n “sense-certainty.” Hegel's point, of course, is t o undermine the pretensions o f pure knowledge and the superiority o f science, as well as to destroy the claims for autonomy that

Kant gives t o understanding i n his first Critique. But this is a question o f rhetorical strategy, n o t the “logic” o f the dialectic; chapter 4 has just as much claim t o be the beginning of our journey as Chapter 1. There is no unique and necessary sequence as such i n the Phenomenology. The second point is that i t is n o t a t all difficult t o think of alternatives t o “Self-Consciousness” as a follow-up t o the breakdown of “Force and the Understanding”; one might insist o n a r e t u r n to simple religious faith and the humility o f o u r “finite minds,” as some religious

leaders urge upon us whenever there is a technological disaster or scientific confusion. O n e m i g h t insist o n a n aesthetic viewpoint, which

was i n fact Schelling’s response and the response o f many c o n t e m porary scientists as well; (for instance, “elegance” and even “beauty” are n o t u n c o m m o n expressions a m o n g scientists a n d mathematicians

when they are explaining their preference for one theory or theorem over another). One m i g h t simply urge that we give u p knowledge (or at

least, the quest for a theory of knowledge) and

turn

our attention

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

394 instead

to

strictly personal human relationships, or

to

political con-

cerns, o r that we reduce the whole o f science, as Camus does i n his

Myth of Sisyphus, t o mere metaphor: Galileo, who held a scientific truth o f great importance, abjured it with the greatest ease as soon as It endangered his life. I n a certain sense, h e d i d r i g h t . T h a t t r u t h w a s n o t worth t h e s t a k e . W h e t h e r t h e e a r t h o r t h e s u n r e v o l v e s a r o u n d t h e o t h e r 1s a m a t t e r o f p r o f o u n d

indifference. . .

Yet all the knowledge on earth will give me nothing t o assure me that this world is mine. You describe i t t o me and you teach me t o c l a s s i f y i t . Y o u enumerate i t s l a w s a n d i n m y t h i r s t for k n o w l e d g e I

admit that they are t r u e . You take apart its mechanism and my hope increases. A t the final stage you teach me that this wondrous and multicolored universe can be reduced t o the a t o m and that the a t o m itself can be reduced t o the electron. All this is good and I wait for you t o continue. B u t you tell me o f an invisible planetary system i n which electrons gravitate around a nucleus. You explain this world t o me with an image. I realize then that you have been reduced t o poetry: I shall never know. Have I the time t o become indignant?

You have already changed theories. So that science that was t o teach me everything ends u p i n a hypothesis, that lucidity founders i n metaphor, that uncertainty is resolved i n a work o f a r t . What need had I o f so many efforts? The soft lines o f these hills and the hand o f evening on this troubled heart teach me much more.'!?

The simple suggestions that Hegel’s dialectic has now “reached the stage of self-consciousness” and the recognition that “the object is living” 116 are n o t enough; i f we are t o make sense o f the Hegelian demonstration, we must be able to state why these issues have all o f a sudd e n become o f such great importance to us. True, they are part o f a n

alternative viewpoint—namely, Fichte’s—which is a “natural” successor t o Kant’s views i n his first Critique, i f only because o f the obvious fact that Fichte d i d follow Kant, quite self-consciously. B u t what is the criterion which we are n o w trying t o satisfy? A r e we still after a theory o f knowledge? Evidently n o t i n the same sense as the epistemologists. B u t a t the same time, we have n o t just given u p o n scientific knowl-

edge. ( I t will r e t u r n full force i n the following chapter.) What we have

started t o suspect is that one can make sense o f the cognitive enterprise only by subsuming i t under a larger category—namely life—and by asking a very different kind of question about it—What desire does it satisfy? Knowledge 1s n o t a u t o n o m o u s ; whether o r n o t curiosity is a 115. Camus, Myth of Stsyphus, trans. J. ( B r i e n ( N e w York: Vintage, 1955), p p . 3, 15. 116. Findlay, p p . 93, 94.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

395

genuine motive, it is n o t all there is t o knowing things. Here is where we need o u r Heideggerian twist, to see knowledge first o f all i n terms o f knowing how (to d o such a n d such, t o satisfy desires, to live) rather

than knowing that (two plus t w o equals four, that Paris is the capital o f France, that there is a grand piano i n front o f me right now). T h e new criterion, i n other words, can be stated i n such a way as t o include the o l d one. T h e question “What is i t that people want?” can be specified o u t o f t h e context o f o u r previous question, “What is it to

know something?”—but i t need

be (and would

not

not

be i f this

chapter were t o have come first). T h e new criterion is to provide a n

adequate theory o f human desire, and the answer Hegel intends t o provide—taken again straight o u t o f Fichte—is this: our ultimate desire is “Freedom.” But freedom does n o t mean the freedom t o do any particular sort o f thing (free speech, freedom o f worship, freedom of the press, free t o hold parties until four i n the morning). Freedom means independence, autonomy, a sense o f one’s s e l fas a self. Indeed,

much of the thrust o f Hegel’s over-all philosophy—Ilike most o f the philosophy i n Germany a t the time—has a touch of the stoic about it: it is only i n thought that a person is wholly his own boss (Heidegger's “Eigentlichkeit”), free from the dictates o f popes, kings and censors,

free from the opinions o f others, free

to

imagine o r daydream o r

think whatever one w a n t s o f oneself. I t is the same argument one

finds in Aristotle, i n praise of the contemplative life, and i n Boethius, Spinoza, and Schopenhauer. I n fact, i t is really only Fichte, among the great philosophers o f the time, who refuses utterly to accept this quietist conception o f life. H e was always the moral provocateur, the

political firebrand, the popular spokesman; and it was this, no doubt, more than any defect i n his philosophy as such, that lead Hegel (and Schelling) away from h i m . ’ Freedom is self-enclosure, independence, autonomy. This is a very Kantian image, but i t was also the definition that Hegel and most o f his colleagues gave t o the conception o f life itself. I n fact, Aristotle too, as well as many m o d e r n biologists, define life as a more o r less

system, i n which the distinction between “outside” and “Inside” is relatively clear and i n which the functions of the whole depend on the interrelationship and proper mutual functioning of the parts. The question regarding knowledge, i n other words, now becomes the question o f how i t functions within that more or less a u t o n o m o u s system. This is just the question that Descartes and the epistemologists never even asked, and the question that Kant blocked autonomous

117.

“Not

to KNow but to DO

is t h e

vocation of

man”—Fichte, Vocation

W. S m i t h (Chicago: O p e n Court, 1931), B o o k 111, p . 94.

of Man,

trans.

396

Hitching the Highway of Despair

off entirely by claiming the total autonomy o f knowledge. Fichte, perhaps, used overkill i n asserting the thesis that knowledge and the world o f nature were nothing but postulates o f practical reason, n o t h i n g b u t

the projection o f the moral self as a stage for its moral struggles. But Hegel accepts the question, i f n o t the solution, namely, What is the function o f knowledge in life? What role does i t play? Does i t make us happier? More free? More aware of ourselves? And what kind of knowledge would it have t o be t o do all o f these things? A l t h o u g h Hegel tantalizes us with the concept o f desire, h e really

says very little about it. There are t w o hints which are important but n o t particularly surprising; one is that i t is through desire that we first get a conception o f ourselves. Gadamer writes, “ . . . i n its immediacy

i t is the vital certainty o f being alive; i n other words, i t has the confirmation o f itself which i t gains through the satisfaction of desire.”!1® A n d so Hegel tells us—by way o f one o f his usual overstatements—

that “self-consciousness is desire” (167, 174).1'° The second hint is more Freudian, that desire is essentially a “negative” attitude t o things, a sense o f their otherness and the demand that they be made part o f

oneself. Here is where we should probably find Hegel's comment about animals, who do n o t see things as objects of knowledge but rather as independent beings t o be literally incorporated into oneself. The idea that desire is i n one sense a desire t o obliterate a n object as “other”

and make i t instead part o f oneself is familiar enough, but behind this familiar idea loom t w o other very large Hegelian theses which are unfortunately only alluded t o and n o t stated and treated i n full. T h e first is Faustian, a n d it is the thesis that desire b y its very nature can never be satisfied, that desire produces desire and, ultimately,

what we want is everything. (We shall see this thesis again i n chapter 5.) We w a n t t o destroy all “otherness” and make i t our own. We w a n t every person a n d every t h i n g t o be ours, n o t just a t o u r disposal b u t part o f ourselves. W h e n desire feeds o n desire, the only meaningful

desire is that which eludes satisfaction, an object which also stands on its own. The ideal desire is a quest which is heroic and perhaps impossible, with an object that is unattainable or a person who defeats us time after time. T h u s Hegel tells us that “self-consciousness is thus

certain of itself only by superseding this other that presents itself

to

self-consciousness as a n independent life . . . (174) a n d “self con-

sciousness, by its negative relation

to

the object, is unable

to

supersede

118. Gadamer, p. 60. 119. Hyppolite, Genesis and Structure i n Hegel's PG, t r a n s . S. Cherniak and J. Heckm a n ( E v a n s t o n : N o r t h w e s t e r n Univ. P r e s s , 1974): “ T h e e n d p o i n t of desire is n o t t h e sensuous object but the unity o f the I with itself. . . . What i t desires, is itself” (p. 160).

Consciousness and the Dialectic

397

i t ; 1t is really because o f that relation that it produces the object again, and the desire as well” (175). O n e might expect treatment o r at least references to the Faust legend here, and D o n Juan, King Midas, the

ring o f Gyges (in Plato’s Republic), and a hundred other tales o f desire, fulfilled and unfilled. B u t we d o not get them. What we get is a t most

a promissory n o t e , that consciousness through desire is n o t primarily curious b u t voracious. I t wants to devour everything (as a n infant tries

literally t o do, by sticking everything i n its mouth. I t w a n t s

to

make

the whole world its own, n o t so m u c h to please as to prove itself). T h e

self, according t o Hegel, is nothing less than this identification with the whole, which is so far c a s t only i n the extremely crude form o f desire. (“Begierde” m i g h t just as well be translated as “lust” o r “appe-

tite” as simple “desire.”) The other suggestion i n this section that deserves special comment, is this: Hegel claims n o t once but several times that the object o f desire is itself another l i v i n g t h i n g . I t 1s easy to dismiss this as a b i t o f sophistry, a n anticipation o f his next move, i n which Hegel raises

questions about our primordial attitudes toward other people.'?? Taken literally, what Hegel says is false, o f course. M u c h o f what we w a n t are mere things—dead, inorganic, inanimate, lifeless—diamonds, sports cars, salt, pepper, a n d a glass o f water. I f Hegel were trying to sneak

i n a transition from the claim that consciousness m u s t be understood n o t as knowledge b u t as self-consciousness, desire, and as a living

thing, to the very different claims h e is about to p u t forward i n the

following “Master and Slave” section about interpersonal relationships, then i t would be easy t o understand the purpose behind this sleight o f hand. B u t i f t h a t interpretation were true, one would have to conclude that here (not, as many readers have often felt, i n the

transition t o chapter 4 as such) the dialectic breaks down, that Hegel has failed, for the first time, t o give us even a bad reason for making the transition from this, the most terse section o f the book, to “Master

and Slave,” which is, perhaps the clearest. T h e alternative, a n d a way to make sense o f this transition (as well as the transition i n t o chapter 5, which we are about to discuss), is to

take seriously Hegel’s claim that the objects of desire are living beings, even where, t o our way of thinking, such a claim is patently false.!?! First o f all, i t should be p o i n t e d o u t that the phrase translated here

as “living being” is “ein Lebendiges” rather than “ein Lebewesen,” which 120. Cf. Findlay: “Hegel devotes some space a t this point t o a somewhat exuberant characterization o f life” (p. 94). 121. I owe a special debt o f gratitude to Eric Santner, who raised and developed the following points i n a seminar a t the Untversity o f Texas i n 1979.

398

Hitching the Highway of Despair

suggests that it is n o t full-blown animism that Hegel has i n mind here, but rather the thing we desire as itself a “dynamic entity,” a “vital being.” Hegel's o w n thesis here seems t o be t h a t we come t o appreciate the independence o f things not when we come t o know them b u t rather when we come to recognize o u r o w n dependence u p o n them; I n this satisfaction, however, experience makes i t aware that the obj e c t has its o w n i n d e p e n d e n c e . Desire and the self-certainty obtained I n i t s gratification, a r e c o n d i t i o n e d b y t h e object. . . . O n a c c o u n t o f t h e independence o f t h e o b j e c t , therefore, i t can achieve s a t i s f a c t i o n only when the object itself effects the negation within itself; and i t m u s t carry o u t this negation o f itself i n itself, for it is in uself the negative, and must be for the other what i t is. (175)

Ultimately, Hegel concludes, “self-consciousness can find its satisfaction only in another self-consciousness,” that is, i n other people. But before we reach that conclusion, the argument is that even in o u r dealings with things, they are seen by us n o t primarily as mechanisms nor as objects o f knowledge, b u t rather as independent beings with a will o f

their own. Let’s take a homely example; I jump i n my car, late t o class as usual, t u r n the ignition key but, n o t (entirely) as usual, the motor will n o t s t a r t . The starter is doing its job, but slowing down by the second. The battery is getting low and it is getting obvious that the car needs a tune u p , badly. Normally, when m y car is working well, I don’t think o f i t as such at all; I use i t . I get i n , d r i v e to class, thinking all the t i m e about the lecture to come, paying attention to pedestrians a n d stop signals, b u t not the car, not even for a moment. B u t today, the damned

thing won't start. I plead with it. I apologize for n o t taking better care o f it. I promise i t a new set o f spark plugs. I curse a t 1t and, just as the taxi comes, I give i t a punitive kick. I s this irrational? 1 f I come to

think o f the car as an object of scientific knowledge as a living being, something is indeed very wrong. But as an object of my desires, it is not irrational t o treat it so. Indeed, we tend t o treat most objects, n o t only trees a n d flowers a n d cockroaches, b u t volcanoes, the weather,

and m o s t “mechanisms” with this sense o f liveliness. This is n o t yet pan-vitalism—the v i e w t h a t t h e s e t h i n g s a r e a c t u a l l y a l i v e . B u t i t is,

phenomenologically, a more a c c u r a t e description of how we relate t o the things i n our daily world than the overly cognitive and mechanical account o f the same things as objects o f scientific knowledge. T h u s

i n desire, one does indeed view objects as “living beings,” i n the sense Just described. My homely description of my car, o f course, is a more American version o f Heidegger's even more homely peasant example about the

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

399

hammer. We d o not notice a h a m m e r when we are u s i n g it, h e writes I n Being and Time, b u t rather we first come to notice i t as a “ T h i n g ”

when 1t somehow goes wrong, when i t gets i n the way or doesn’t work; then 1t becomes “obstinate” and “obtrusive.”!?? I t 1s Heidegger, too,

who Insists that we c a n n o t appreciate the n a t u r e of things when we consider them just “for us”; we have t o appreciate them “tor them-

selves”, as things n o t known, even as having a “mysterious inner life of their own.” (Thus there has been a whole tradition, including Hölderlin and Rilke, o f German “Ding-Gedichte” o r “thing-poems,” for example, Rilke’s intimate address to a hand-ball.'?*) Hegel 1s not a n animist, w h o literally believes that all things are alive, b u t h e never-

theless has a view o f reality which is far more filled by activity and liveliness than the “dead” ontology o f Newtonian physics. Indeed, the transition from “force” i n “Force and the Understanding” t o “life” i n this section can be viewed n o t so much as an attack on the scientific world-view as an attack on a particularly morbid world-view, i n which the dynamism and vitality are drained from things and i n which what passes for scientific explanation are vacuous laws and ad hoc dispositions. But i f Hegel criticized Aristotle i n chapter 3 for his tautological explanations i n t e r m s o f “potentiality” (Moliére’s crack about “soporific powers” etc.), he gives Aristotle his proper due i n what follows. The vision of the world that emerges from Hegel's Phenomenology 1s extremely Aristotelean, and what makes i t so, more than anything else, is the continuous emphasis o n “inner principles,” not as dubious

dispositional explanations, but as vital, living forces. Indeed, Hegel 1s n o t even suggesting that we adopt such a vision so m u c h as h e 1s claiming that we already do see the world this way, and i t is only the

domineering mechanical metaphors of the Newtonian world-view that make us think that our experience is otherwise. With this b i t o f phenomenology, I think we can make good sense

of the opening pages of chapter 4, on “The Truth of Self-Certainty.” The dialectical play o f the first three chapters were mainly concerned with the n a t u r e of what we know—whether we primarily know particulars or sets o f properties or objects constituted by our concepts or

out

events explained by unseen forces o r laws. T h e “ I ” that d i d the know-

ing was left mostly implicit, taken for granted, presumably (uncritically) a n i n d i v i d u a l consciousness whose role i n life (as “cogito” o r

“transcendental ego”) was primarily t o know things—to observe and t o formulate theories. But none of these views about knowledge worked o u t as p l a n n e d , a n d so a n a l t e r n a t i v e v i e w o f consciousness, a n a l t e r 122. Heidegger, Being and Time, p. 74. 123. Eric Santner, “Saving the Things,” unpublished ms., 1979, p . 14.

400

Hitching the Highway of Despair

native view of “Things,” and an alternative view of self were proposed. Consciousness is n o w proposed to be primarily a practical con-

sciousness, concerned with the exigencies of life and the satisfaction o f desire. T h i n g s , o n the n e w account, are not primarily objects o f

knowledge but instruments, “equipment,” objects of desire and, as such, to be viewed very diflerently from the way we view t h e m i n knowing them.'?* T h e self, finally, is n o longer taken for granted as mere cognitive “ I ” b u t now becomes a living flesh a n d blood creature

whose life consists of much more than knowing. Taking these three new views together, we can see that Hegel can be taken to be suggest-

ing something like the following (again Heideggerian) thesis: the distinction between consciousness and its objects 1s primarily a product of an overly cognitive and observational view of consciousness, as primarily knowing rather than living. But when we think o f life in general, this distinction doesn’t make m u c h sense. I t is the very nature o f desire t o see objects either as indifferent (i.e. o f n o interest whatsoever) o r as independent beings which we w a n t to identify with, to take

into ourselves. A n object too easily obtained is n o t an object we tend to

identify with, whereas an object that 1s “obstinate” o r threatening

tends t o be a powerful source o f identity. T h e view that is being pro-

posed here is essentially the Fichtean view—which Hegel will soon enough reject—that the only real existence of things is as objects of desire, instruments of a thoroughly practical consciousness whose int e r e s t i n life 1s life itself, i n proving itself and its independence, i n testing its mettle against forces and obstacles which it “posits” i n its own path. I t is, and was i n the eyes o f many o f Fichte’s followers, a

romantic alternative t o the mechanistic and conscientiously detached scientific views of the Enlightenment, with 1ts promises of eternal peace and happiness through knowledge. Fichte brought back the struggle and the uncertainty t o life; indeed he brought back life t o a view of human existence that was beginning t o find itself more a t home i n the laboratory and the university seminar room than i n the moral struggles of a difficult world. Hegel rejected Fichte’s view. H e rejected the still tacit assumption (which was n o t actually Fichte’s) that the self is an individual self. H e rejected the idea o f a self that, as i n the Cartesian Cogito, was still

without any c o n t e n t . H e consequently rejected the concept o f desire 124. T h e m o s t c a p t i v a t i n g modern a c c o u n t o f this difference i s t h e e x t e n d e d s e r m o n o n motorcycle f e t i s h i s m i n R o b e r t Pirsig’s Z e n a n d the A r t o f Motorcycle Maintenance ( N e w York: B a n t a m , 1974), i n w h i c h h e distinguishes at great l e n g t h t h e “classical” p e r s p e c t i v e i n which a m o t o r c y c l e is a m e c h a n i s m made o f p a r t s a n d t h e “romantic” (synthetic, “ i n s t r u m e n t a l ” i n H e i d e g g e r ' s sense) v i e w t h a t o n e h a s o f a m o t o r c y c l e w h e n r i d i n g i t , w h e n s e l f a n d c y c l e become essentially one.

(analytic)

Consciousness and the Dialectic

401

presumed here, as a Faustian longing after things and satsfaction,

and he rejected the idea o f self as merely a function o f desire. What is wrong with this whole enterprise—though i t m u s t be said that Hegel does n o t even make the attempt to provide us with a satisfactory argument to this effect—is that n o account o f self-consciousness, self,

or desire can possibly be adequate without a simultaneous account o f our relations with and desires concerning other people. This 1s where Hegel states, with only a hint o f argument, that “self consciousness achieves

its satisfaction only in another self-consciousness” (175). The hint of argument seems to be that we define ourselves i n terms o f o u r desires, b u t

since desires too easily satisfied are too transitory t o allow for much satisfaction, we m o s t desire objects that stand their own ground and are self-contained (Le. “infinite”). Other people, presumably, present the most difficulties and are m o s t obstinate regarding o u r desires con-

cerning them. From here, the transition t o “Master and Slave” 1s a t least intelligible, but i t c a n n o t be said that Hegel has really established the inadequacy of the Faustian-Fichtean form o f self-consciousness as desire. Indeed, since half o f that form comes t o us later ( i n chapter 5)

i t should be seriously questioned whether these first few pages are really a distinct form o f consciousness a t all.!#® I f we are t o make maximum sense o f what goes o n i n these pages, I suggest that we not make the customary move, with the customary

sigh of relief, into the clear-cut situation o f the “Master and Slave” parable (178-96). The path we have been following instead leads another way, around the whole chapter on “self-consciousness” and directly o n to chapter 5, where Fichte 1s picked u p once again, this time

i n a somewhat more favorable and less “romantic” light.

g. Hegel's Philosophy of Nature (“Reason” in chapter 5A) Productive Force [Kraft] is mind striving t o organize itself; so too i n the o u t e r world, a umversal tendency t o organize must reveal itself. —F.W.]. von Schelling, Ideas towards a Philosophy of Nature

T h e most foreign section o f the Phenomenology, tor us, 1s that first part

o f chapter 5, “Observing Reason,” i n which Hegel presents us with 125. I t should be noted that virtually the whole o f the PG, from here on, displays a Fichtean influence. T h e “Master a n d Slave” parable to follow, for example, 1s a Fichtean illustration, as well as t h e r a t h e r clear statement o f Fichte’s “ethical idealism” that opens chapter 5 . T h e long discussions of ethics i n chapters 5 a n d 6 also o w e a heavy debt to

Fichte, even i f H e g e l emerges as m o r e o f a critic t h a n a follower.

402

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

his philosophy of nature (Naturphilosophie), or what we would call his “philosophy o f science.” I t seems foreign t o us because, whereas the

problems o f epistemology, the n a t u r e o f human relationships, and questions about the good life have a certain endurance through history, scientific styles and theories d o not. T h e ethical theories o f the early 19th century are still a matter o f vigorous debate; the scientific views o f the period are, at most, merely quaint. A n d yet, it would be a mistake to simply dismiss the entire section, as some commentators are happy to do.!?¢ T h e scientific details are odd, o r worse, and He-

gel’s analogies are sometimes absurd (he himself later chastised them as “superficial” a n d “ c r u d e ” i n The Philosophy of Nature.)'?” B u t the

section is nevertheless revealing and, i n its over-all viewpoint, extremely important t o an understanding of the Phenomenology i n general and Hegel's objections t o “understanding” i n chapter 3 i n particular. Kant had distinguished between “understanding” and “reason” as the t w o “faculties” of the human mind which deal with concepts: the first 1s concerned wholly w i t h the application o f concepts to experi-

ence, the second is involved in an odd collection o f tasks, including reflection on the use of concepts by the understanding, doing logic, the formulation of “practical” principles, and the more suspicious tasks o f traditional metaphysics and theology. What reason can not d o is

provide us with knowledge about the phenomenal world, according to K a n t , because it has n o experiential basis. T h e distinction soon becomes the key to German Idealism, and Fichte, Schelling, and H e -

gel all come

to

champion reason and disparage understanding, since

reason, contra Kant, is supposed to b e the faculty which gives us knowledge o f the world “in-itself,” as understanding does not. I n his

earlier Differenz-essay of 1801, and later i n the Science ofLogic i n 1812, Hegel talks about the Kantian c o n t r a s t between the t w o faculties a t some length, b u t i n the Phenomenology the distinction is not so much

talked about as simply introduced as a primary organizing principle. The key theoretical contrast i n the book is between “understanding” and “reason.” (Hegel does n o t use the word “theoretical” very much in the Phenomenology, but he has no qualms about i t i n his other works, 1 2 6 . F i n d l a y called t h e s e c t i o n “ c o n f u s e d a n d u n c o m f o r t a b l e ” a n d summarizes i t i n

a page ( p . 103), b u t his a t t i t u d e t u r n e d t o enthusiasm w h e n h e wrote t h e foreword t o

The Philosophy of Nature i n 1968. Charles Taylor gives us only “the briefest indication” o f the section as an apology for contingency and finishes i t off i n t w o paragraphs. B u t i f this section is t o make any sense a t all, i t is n o t an “apology for contingency” and—as the cornerstone o f Schelling’s philosophy—it is absolutely essential to the PG. For a g o o d a p p r e c i a t i o n o f Schelling’s i m p o r t a n c e h e r e ( b u t m i s p l a c e d as a n analysis o f chap-

t e r 4 ) , see H e n r y B . S m i t h , “ T h e T r a n s i t i o n from Bewusstsein t o Selbstbewusstsein” (Philadelphia: U n i v . o f Pennsylvania Press, 1947). 127. The Philosophy of Nature, t r a n s . Miller, p . 1.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

403

including his own Lectures on the Philosophy of Nature a t Jena.!28 This 1s why the whole of chapter 4, “Self-Consciousness,” can be viewed from this perspective as a distraction, making less than obvious one o f the most basic arguments i n the whole o f post-Kantian philoso-

phy—that knowledge of nature is not limited to the understanding. Historically, o f course, Fichte fits into “Self-Consciousness,” precedi n g Schelling, w h o is the key figure o f “Observing Reason,” this first

section o f chapter 5. I n fact, anyone who has looked a t any of the versions of Schelling’s own “philosophy o f nature,” which he published between 1797 and the time Hegel also started teaching the subject a t Jena, will instantly recognize n o t only the tone but even the organization o f this section, for it is all Schelling. B u t again, i t is es-

sential that we n o t reduce the point o f the piece t o an unspoken allusion, and again too i t is essential t o remember that there need n o t be a single linear progression from “Force and the Understanding” (and the first few pages o f “Self-Consciousness”) t o “Reason” and another form o f consciousness. I n fact, Hegel is offering us t w o related alternatives t o “understanding,” though there 1s no question which he thinks to be superior; the first 1s Fichte’s, and i t consists o f a rejection

of n o t only understanding but knowledge t o o , in favor o f a heightened sense o f reason i n its purely practical applications. The second is Schelling’s, which was i n part a reaction against Fichte’s purely “eth-

ical” idealism and the reassertion o f the importance o f n a t u r e and knowledge o f nature—but through reason, n o t through the categories of the understanding. This distinction seems relatively unimportant t o us, perhaps, b u t i t was all-important to them. T h e “faculty” view o f the m i n d is not essential to i t ( i n fact, Hegel d i d n ’ t accept this either) nor 1s the termi-

nology as such—except for the fact that Kant had used the t w o t e r m s this way. But the battle is n o t about terms; i n fact, i t 1s a battle over the very meaning o f the ideal “knowledge” (as i n the earlier chapters) and, vis-a-vis chapter 3, a battle over the meaning o f the scientific

enterprise, the n a t u r e of scientific explanation and the character o f the scientific viewpoint. What “understanding” really amounted t o was n o t just a “fixed” s e t o f categories, b u t a very specific conception o f the world, a Newtonian, “mechanical,” causal view o f the world.

And since, according

to

Kant, the categories o f the understanding

were the only source o f knowledge, what followed was the view—wholly unacceptable to Fichte, Schelling, Goethe, Hegel, a n d a whole gen-

eration o f German intellectuals—that the world 1s a mechanism, 128. See, e.g., Harris o n t h e Differenz-essay, p . 59.

at

404

Hitching the Highway of Despair

least as far as science is concerned, and causal explanations—accounts o f a n e v e n t i n terms o f its causes and eftects—are the only

fully legitimate form o f explanation. I t 1s important t o say, straight off, that n o t even Newton and Kant were satisfied w i t h this account. Newton supplemented his laws o f

force with the hypothesis that God gave purpose

to

the whole busi-

ness, and h e spent the rest o f his life trying t o work this out. Kant

insisted that knowledge consisted of causal relationships but, nevertheless, another form o f explanation was n o t only possible but heuristically necessary, even “intrinsic to the h u m a n m i n d . ” This second form

o f explanation was teleology, accounts i n terms of purposes. I n biology and psychology, for example, causal explanations are rarely available, often trivial, and virtually always less informative than an explanation in terms o f the purpose o f a certain organ, o r the purpose o f a certain bit o f behavior. To know the chemical causes o f a n insect’s foul smell

or protective coloring, or t o know the evolutionary sequence that favored its survival rather than others, is n o t yet t o satisfy that primitive teleological demand, t o know why, for what purpose, that bug smells so bad. T h u s Kant tells us that this importance o f function, o r what

he calls “the physical ends” or “intrinsic finality” o f organisms, “leads reason into a n order o f things entirely different from that o f a mere

mechanism o f nature, which mere mechanism no longer provides adequate.” 12% And it is n o t just individual living things that require such accounts; the whole o f the universe, according to Kant just as m u c h as Goethe o r Hegel, is n o t just a dead batch o f m a t t e r b u t a living organism, which exists for a purpose. T h u s , Kant tells us, “nature

does nothing i n vain,” 13% a slogan which might well be taken as the watchword o f their view o f science. This may n o t be so obvious t o us b u t (as, “the principle o f sufficient reason”) i t was considered a n utter

necessity t o almost every German philosopher, from Leibniz penhauer.

to

Scho-

T h e problem with this i n Kant’s philosophy was that, even though

he too insisted that this teleological principle was o f the u t m o s t necessity for any rational view o f the world, his own theory of knowledge made i t impossible for him t o say that he knew this t o be the case. That is, i n his terminology, i t was not “constitutive” a n d therefore p a r t o f n a t u r e as we know it a t all, but a t best a “regulative principle,” a “subjective necessity” which happened t o be universal. This 1s what Hegel and his colleagues object t o , the relegation of what they see as the

129. Kant, Critique of Judgment, t r a n s . Meredith (Oxford, 1952), 1 66. 130. Ibid.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

405

important single principle o f the scientific enterprise t o secondary, non-cognitive status. Hegel summarizes the objection i n 1801:

most

Kant acknowledges nature; he posits the object t o be something u n -

determined (by understanding) and he views nature as Subject-Object in that h e treats the product o f nature as a n e n d o f nature, as pur-

poseful without a concept o f purpose, as necessary without being mechanistic, as identity o f c o n c e p t a n d b e i n g . B u t a t t h e s a m e t i m e t h i s v i e w o f n a t u r e 1s s u p p o s e d t o b e merely teleological, that i s t o

say, i t only serves validly as a maxim for our limited human understanding whose thinking is discursive and whose universal concepts !*! do n o t contain the particular phenomenon of nature.” What we see here is a classic confrontation between two paradigms

o f science, t w o opposed ways o f looking a t n a t u r e , one mechanical and “dead,” one purposeful and as a “living thing.” We can see now the importance o f Hegels obscure ruminations about the object o f consciousness as ein Lebendige i n the first pages o f chapter 4, for this is no simple quirk o f lascivious desire but the desideratum o f the scientific viewpoint as well. The whole world is t o be considered as a living being and insofar as causal-mechanical accounts have their role i n science, they—not teleological accounts—are to b e considered sec-

ondary. Biology, n o t physics, should be considered the paradigm science according to Hegel a n d his colleagues. (Goethe, remember, was

a botanist, and the scientific imagery here is very much i n t u n e with Aristotle, who was also primarily a biologist.) I t is the life sciences that are central t o knowledge, n o t the physical sciences; the problem is n o t that biology c a n n o t come up with causal explanations but rather that physics refuses t o consider teleological accounts. (Thus Holderlin, who became fascinated with astronomy as a student, developed a n animistic view o f the solar system, which his friends Schelling a n d

Hegel continued t o argue i n a more prosaic form i n their respective philosophies o f nature.!3?) T h e confrontation o f “reason” a n d “understanding,” therefore, is

just a battle o f words; i t 1s a basic battle o f viewpoints about the of reality. Reason is the faculty of synthesis; i t sees interconnections, comprehends the place o f a thing or an event i n the larger picture, understands purposes; understanding is rather the faculty of

not

nature

131. Differenz-essay, p . 163. 1 3 2 . This i s t h e p l a c e t o p o i n t o u t o n c e a g a i n , w i t h s o m e amusement, t h e fact t h a t

the central concepts o f post-Einsteinian physics are becoming increasingly teleological, Just as psychology and the life sciences are trying so desperately t o reduce their vocabu-

lary t o purely causal terminology. See, for a comment, Harold J. Morowitz, “Rediscovering the Mind,” Psychology Today (August 1980}, p. 12 f.

406

Hitching the Highway o f Despair

analysis, breaking things down t o discover the interrelations o f the parts. Reason is championed by those thinkers who insist on seeing the world as activity; i n fact, Hegel has defined “reason” itself as “purposive activity” (in the Preface, 22). The underlying premise of the “philosophy o f nature,” for both Schelling and Hegel, 1s teleology, nature itself as activity, or what Schelling calls (following Aristotle) “selfactivity” Thus Hegel’s rejection of “understanding” i n chapter 3 was n o t just a rejection of the idea o f “pure knowledge” but the rejection o f a too-restricted notion o f knowledge, Kant’s causal conception o f

understanding. What we now find i n the Phenomenology, therefore, 1s a very different conception of consciousness as knowledge, as “reason,” w h i c h knows the universe as a living thing, akin to i t s e l f . ‘

The chapter “Reason” and the section “Observing Reason” begin with a discussion o f idealism; “Reason, assured of itself . . . is a t peace with [both the world and itself] . . . its thinking is itself directly a c t u ality” (232). Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel—as well as virtually all of the Romantics—were idealists—they saw the world as inseparable from, i f not actually created by, o u r consciousness o f i t . Kant

had short-changed n a t u r e , according t o Schelling and Hegel, by relegating t o i t the limited concepts of the understanding; Fichte had done n a t u r e a n even greater disservice by reducing It to a mere projection (“posit”) o f practical reason. T h e Romantics, o f course, were

be taken all that seriously, for they had eliminated reason from the picture and w e r e n o t concerned with knowledge a t all. But Kant

not to

a n d Fichte, w h o were not to be ignored, both turned o u t to be “sub-

jective idealists,” by which Hegel (and Schelling) m e a n t that they ignored the objective, independent reality of n a t u r e'** . We have by now been through Hegel's main objections t o Kant— his limiting o f knowledge t o understanding, his unnecessary and ultimately disastrous postulation of a world “in-itself” beyond experience, and his relegation of teleology and the life sciences t o a secondary place i n science—secondary t o , and problematic because of, Newtons physics and the primacy of mechanical explanatory accounts. The objection t o Fichte 1s i n a way much simpler—he ignored nature entirely, did not consider the possibility that nature might have its own purposes i n addition t o its usefulness for us. Fichte’s “Reason,” 1 3 3 . T h u s w e c a n u n d e r s t a n d o n e o f Hegel's f a v o r i t e m e t a p h o r s — t h e anatomical d i s s e c t i o n metaphor w e m e e t i n t h e first paragraph o f t h e P r e f a c e . D i s s e c t i o n a l l o w s u s t o understand h o w s o m e t h i n g works, b u t i t p r e s u p p o s e s s o m e comprehension o f what i t is,

what i t does, and why i t does it. 1 3 4 . Harris w i s e l y comments t h a t “ K a n t w o u l d h a v e b e e n surprised t o h e a r t h a t h e t h e reality o f n a t u r e i n d o u b t ” (Differenz-essay, p. 47).

had left

Consciousness and the Dialectic

according

to

407

Hegel, was “concerned only with independence and

freedom, concerned to save a n d maintain itself for itself at the expense o f the world, o r o f its o w n actuality . . . ”(232). I t is Fichte’s voracious idealism that sees all reality as “ m i n e ” (238) b u t , neverthe-

less, fails t o yield “true knowing,” precisely because i t ignores the independent activities o f n a t u r e . This is the transition from chapter 4 to 5, tor i f the problem w i t h “Consciousness” was that i t h a d n o con-

ception of itself as practical activity, the problem with Fichte and “SelfConsciousness” is that it pays too little attention t o its theoretical role as observer. Thus “Observing Reason” 1s consciousness once again i n its scientific role, but now purged of its overly restrictive causal limitations as “understanding” and the Newtonian obsession with mechanism. I t is the a i m (and criterion) o f reason to see the universe as a

purposive whole, as an activity parallel to, and ultimately identical to, its own conceptual activities. The view presented here 1s Schelling’s; i n fact, much o f the section 1s a transcription o f Hegel's own lectures in the philosophy o f n a t u r e (1803/04 and 1804/05) which are In turn virtual transcriptions of Schelling’s Ideas Towards a Philosophy of Nature (1797) and System of Philosophy o fNature (1799). I n 1798 Schelling h a d published his Worid-

Soul as a Hypothesis for Physics, and just before Hegel started writing and lecturing on the subject himself, Schelling had published three new versions o f his system, including an “identity” theory i n which consciousness a n d nature were to be seen as two aspects o f a single

reality. The basis o f this dual-aspect theory was a single concept of “force,” but n o t the Newtonian force of “understanding”—rather the Leibnizian “force” o f reason, a n i n n e r animating activity whose pur-

pose is self-realization, an increasingly clear consciousness o f what one is, namely, rational activity. Nature too, as o u r unconscious as-

pect, 1s rational activity (“purpostveness without a conscious purpose,” Kant had called it). Hegel's premise, borrowed directly from SchellIng, is that we k n o w ourselves only as well as we know nature. I t is a

o f personal and practical importance too that “Nature does nothing i n vain.” Idealism, as Hegel presents i t here, is n o t the thesis that “all objects matter

are i n the mind,” o r anything o f the s o r t . Indeed, he begins by attack-

ing all such views, first of all, because they do n o t give proper credit t o objective nature and, second o f all, because “abstract empty phrases” (238) d o n ’ t really claim a n y t h i n g at all. Idealism, i n Hegel's view, is

the inseparability o f n a t u r e and consciousness, the fact that both are to be understood as rational (that is, as integrative) activities and, u l -

408

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

timately, as one a n d the same activity, viewed from two different as-

p e c t s1. Before we go on t o explore the outline o f Hegel’s philosophy of n a t u r e and the sometimes extravagant teleological view he borrows from Schelling, I w a n t t o draw back for a m o m e n t and reconsider what Hegel and Schelling simply took for granted, but t o us seems outrageous. For example, i n 1796, i n Berne, Hegel drew up a proposal for a “system” he would c o n s t r u c t , and he begins; The first idea is, o f course, the presentation ofmy self as an absolutely free entity (Wesen). Along with the free, self-conscious essence there s t a n d s forth—out

o f n o t h i n g — a n e n t i r e world—the o n e t r u e a n d

thinkable creation

out

o f nothing.—Here I shall descend into the

r e a l m s o f physics; t h e q u e s t i o n i s t h i s : h o w m u s t a w o r l d b e consti-

tuted for a moral entity? I would like backward

to

give wings once more

physics, t h a t a d v a n c e s laboriously

to

our

b y experients.!3¢

T h e first thing t o notice is that what seems extremely dubious to us is simply “ o f course” to h i m , namely, the proposal that one starts a dis-

cussion o f the nature o f the world with the presentation o f self. But this was, we know, the first premise o f Fichte’s Wissenschaftlehre (pub-

lished t w o years before) and the first premise o f Schelling’s “The I ’ as the Principle of Philosophy” (published just the year before). One generation’s cipher may be another’ tautology. The second thing t o notice, again, 1s Hegel's evident disdain for physics, even though he is educated enough, and interested enough, t o write and lecture about it and “speculate” about its significance. (A tew s e n t e n c e s later, he writes, “it does n o t appear that our presentday physics can satisfy a creative spirit such as ours . . . ")!1*7 Idealism, tor Hegel, may n o t be so much a n ontological claim about the status o f objects vis-a-vis the h u m a n m i n d as i t is a hermeneutical view about nature as constituted b y the same activity as the mind a n d therefore necessarily comprehensible to us, not as a series o f scientific laws but as a b e i n g

ın w h i c h w e s h a r e o u r existence. “ I t , ” i n

fact, is us, n o t o n l y

“for us” and n o t just “ i n itself.” I t is reason “actualizing itself” i n the material world, just as 1t is also doing i n us, as Spirit. Idealism seems t o us an incomprehensible view o f the world, and i t 1s not enough, i n a present-day presentation o f Hegel, simply so to 135. Russell's view o f Hegel as an idealist who thought that everything “is i n the m i n d ” becomes w r o n g again, w i t h a n i r o n i c twist, w h e n we consider that Hegel's actual v i e w ( b o r r o w e d h e r e f r o m Schelling) i s a “dual-aspect” t h e o r y o f c o n s c i o u s n e s s , w h i c h

Russell himself once defended. So d i d Spinoza, who certainly is n o t , by any measure, a n idealist.

136. Harris, Hegel's Development, p. 510. 137. Ibid.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

409

classify him, with the appropriate qualifications, and leave i t go a t that. How could an entire generation of intellectuals believe such a view? With Aristotle, we can shrug o u r shoulders and say that he was

a part o f a very different culture, i n which such speculative teleological accounts were accepted b y everyone a n d the apparatus o f m o d -

ern science was n o t even imagined by anyone. But one c a n n o t say that o f Goethe, o r Schelling, o r Hegel, and certainly one cannot say that o f Kant, w h o was as well versed i n his contemporary science as

any philosopher ever has been, before or since. (Except Aristotle.) What did they believe, which we evidently do not, that made idealism n o t only an attractive theory but a view that seemed t o be absolutely necessary? From one point o f view, what we might call the “naturalistic” point o f view, idealism 1s absurd. I f one accepts the idea that the world 1s just “there,” a physical universe i n space and time, and we are born into it (or “thrown,” i n the more dramatic Heideggerian phrase), then

the idea that the world 1s consclousness-dependent is a bit o f nonsense which only a philosopher, or a paranoid schizophrenic, could believe. From this viewpoint (which Hegel would call, “from the point o f view o f the object”), consciousness 1s a contingency; one can ask, as

Carl Sagan asks i n The Dragons of Eden, “How did i t come about?” or, “What are the properties o f the world, apart from our experience o f them?” o r “ W h a t would the world seem like i f sensed only through

smell, or hearing?” !3® The world is simply there, no matter what kinds o f qualifications a n epistemologist might make about how we come to know i t o r what we have to contribute to perception to get knowledge. T h e world 1s there “ i n itself” a n d not, except as a matter o f felicitous

circumstance, “for us.” Idealism—the view that the world is essentially “for us”—1is n o t only false; it 1s egomaniacal nonsense. But there is another point o f view, one which m o s t philosophers from Descartes t o Husserl, including Hegel, take virtually for granted. (Why this is so may be an interesting bit o f psychology, but n o t for here.) This is the first-person standpoint, the view o f the world from consciousness, a view o f the world as 1t 1s “for us.” From this point o f view, consciousness is just “there”—or rather, “ h e r e ” (“dasein”); the

world 1s the contingency. Thus the philosopher can ask, “Why is it there?” (“Why is there something rather than nothing?” was Schelling’s question, picked u p famously by Heidegger.) The philosopher can wonder whether the world is really there, o r i f we can k n o w for

certain that i t is. From this point o f view (as the Cartesian Cogito and 138. See, for a good example, P.F. Strawson, Individuals, ch. 2.

410

Hitching the Highway of Despair

the “intellectual intuitions” o f Fichte and Schelling make so clear) the brute existence of consciousness (however conceived) 1s the given, the world “the problem.” From this viewpoint, the world too easily tends t o drift into unreality, as a mere “phenomenon,” as “Idea,” “as “appearance,” o r else, i n a confused mixture o f the t w o standpoints, it is supposed that the world is, o n the one h a n d , out there, “ i n itself,” a n d at the same time, “for us.” B u t then these two worlds tend to float apart, the one unknowable, the other, consequently, something o f a lie.

I t 1s from the first person standpoint, in which consciousness is taken for granted b u t the world is not, that idealism n o t only makes sense

but becomes the inescapable position. To deny idealism 1s t o deny, either that there is a world at all, o r that the w o r l d is real, o r that we can

know it—all o f which are absurd. To adopt a half-hearted idealism, insisting, for example, that the world 1s, o n the one hand, necessarily

“for us”, but, o n the other, unknowable and “ i n itself)” 1s equally absurd. A thorough-going idealism, that is, a n “absolute” idealism, will

say quite stmply—Here 1s consciousness and here is the world and the world is necessarily “for us,” b u t also “ i n itself,” for us. T h e two i n

fact are one, or what Hegel and Schelling call “Subject-Object.” One can focus o n one aspect o r the other, the first as “Ego” the second as “Nature,” b u t to deny their unity 1s t o lapse into nonsense. O r t o emphasize one side more than the other, t o reduce one to the other, is also nonsense. T h u s Hegel (and Schelling) d o not say (as Bertrand

Russell assumed that they did) that all objects are in the mind, but from the first person standpoint i t becomes the only intelligible thesis that objects for consciousness and objects “ i n themselves” can be distinguished only a t the cost o f e x t r e m e absurdity. From this first-person standpoint, the world, which seems “given” to us i n experience, takes o n a n o d d character. O n the one hand, we know i t as a n object for consciousness, b u t then, we are incapable o f

voluntarily “turning it off.” Thus the objection raised against idealism in general and against Fichte’s idealism in particular has always been— “ i f consciousness c r e a t e s the world, then why can’t it create it any way t h a t i t likes?” To answer this challenge, the British idealist Bishop Berkeley suggested that the “givenness” of sensations was due t o God’s causing them i n us, and Leibniz too insisted that perception had t o be as ı t was because God had pre-programmed us for these and no other experiences. Kant answered the query by attributing the involuntariness t o the “given” manifold o f intuition and the t r a n s c e n dental necessity o f the concepts o f the understanding. B u t these answers are closed off to t h e m o r e t h o r o u g h - g o i n g idealism o f Fichte,

Schelling, and Hegel, who reject the idea o f any “given” i n experience

411

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

(including sensations) because that would suggest something outside o f all experience (either God o r objects “In-themselves”) as the cause. To explain the n a t u r e o f the objective world and why 1t must have the forms i t does requires a n i n t e r n a l “deduction,” a demonstration why we see the world this way rather than that way, why we cannot just

decide t o see the world that way instead o f this way. The section o n “Observing Reason” is Hegel's equivalent o f Kant’s “transcendental deduction of the categories,” but where Kant sees his deduction as a n analysis o f the understanding, Hegel sees the func-

tion o f reason’s examination o f its own observational categories i n t e r m s o f an underlying identity between the activities of n a t u r e and our own activities o f knowing. H e does n o t provide us with a “deduction” i n Kant’s sense, but he is n o t trying t o . The thesis of the entire Phenomenology, which has now come t o the fore with the “Inverted

World,” the pragmatic shift o f chapter 4 and the shift t o “Reason” and teleology, 1s that there is no way the world must be, that “we have t o think p u r e change” (160). T h e world is as i t 1s for us, and as we change the world changes too. Differences i n nature, accordingly, are

ultimately differences in thought. The section itself 1s divided into three parts, following the introductory remarks which we have just been reconstructing i n their historical context. T h e first a n d b y far the longest p a r t concerns “the observation o f n a t u r e ” a n d it is, i n extremely condensed form, the

“philosophy of nature” that Hegel and Schelling had taught i n their classes a t Jena. I n those courses, however, and i n Schelling’s various publications on the subject, proportionally much more material was concerned with inorganic n a t u r e , and particularly the newest theories o f light, magnetism, electricity, and chemistry.!*® The discussion o f organic nature, then, was considered as a “higher level” (Potenz) o f

inorganic n a t u r e , and Hegel particularly delighted i n forging analogies between the two—for example, between the “positive and negative” poles and “attraction and repulsion” o f electricity and the sexual attraction and repulsion o f animals. ( I t was this kind o f analogy he

later called “superficial and crude.”) They were also concerned with geology and the s t r u c t u r e of the world, which 1s left o u t of the Phenomenology but plays a prominent place i n their lectures, i n Schelling’s system (as the lowest Potenz) and i n Hegel's later Philosophy of Nature. (For those w h o cling to the old idea o f idealism, that the world exists

wholly i n the mind, i t may be worthwhile pointing

out that

Hegel

there does assert, w i t h o u t a h i n t o f contradiction o r hesitation, that 139. See Harris's valuable outlines o f their courses i n the Differenz-essay, p p . 52, 59.

412

Hitching the Highway of Despair

the world did indeed exist before there were minds o n earth to be conscious o f i t . 1 4 % )

I n the Phenomenology, the concern with inorganic matter is minimal, limited t o a few comments about gravitation and chemistry. Hegel's main concern 1s t o subsume the physical sciences under the life sciences, t o elevate teleology t o the central principle o f science, and to

emphasize what he has already suggested i n chapter 4, that life, unlike mechanical processes, is to be understood only as a self-sustaining,

indivisible teleological system, as an “Infinity,” as Kant and Goethe had argued, with Aristotle before them. The main point here is that we don’t simply observe the “inner m o v e m e n t o f the organism” but rather “grasp it through the Concept” (261). This is Hegel's over-all point t o make about science i n general—that i t is n o t merely “observational” but r a t h e r a matter o f self-awareness. Science, as the d o m a i n

of reason rather than understanding, is the recognition of the same concepts (and ultimately, the Concept) i n both thought and the world.

Today, we consider “empathy” a m o s t unscientific procedure, but for Hegel and Schelling i t is an essential tool for comprehending nature, especially i n the understanding o f other c r e a t u r e s . We too know what i t 1s to act for a p u r p o s e a n d what i t is to b e a self-contained organism. But this need for empathy means that “Observing Reason” isn’t enough for understanding nature either, for what we know is not so much observable as conceivable through thinking. So we move, very quickly, to the observation o f o u r o w n self-consciousness a n d the psychologi-

cal laws o f thought (298-308), about which Hegel concludes precociously but too quickly that one c a n n o t separate behavior from the c o n t e x t i n which it is behavior and that so-called psychological laws (for example, stimulus-response laws) are n o t laws a t all. Finally, i n what is universally recognized t o be the oddest single section of the entire book, Hegel considers the relationship between mind and body, “inner activity” and “outer expression,” a perennial philosophical question which Hegel hides quaintly and misleadingly behind the t w o notable pseudo-sciences o f his day, physiognomy (the theory that one can tell a person's character from his facial features and body shape) and phrenology (Franz Joseph Gall’s theory that character 1s reflected by the various bumps and shapes o f the skull). But each of these pseudo-sciences has its serious and still defended counterparts—for example, the still popular “mind-body identity theory,” 4 ! which Hegel effectively challenges i n the course of this section. 140. Hegel, Philosophy of Nature, t r a n s . Miller, 1 338 ff. 141. I h a v e t r i e d t o e x p r e s s my o w n “ D o u b t s a b o u t t h e Correlation

Thesis: The

N e w Phrenology,” i n The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, vol. 26, ( M a r c h 1975).

Consciousness and the Dialectic

413

The three parts o f the section roughly parallel the three parts o f Schelling’s system o f nature, which is divided into a science o f nature,

a science o f intelligence, and an “indifference point” i n which the t w o are seen as one and the same. ( I n Schelling’s philosophy, this “point” 1s a matter o f a r t a n d religion, “indifferent” to reason, which became

a prime source o f disagreement with Hegel.) The general strategy, familiar t o us already i n the triadic structure o f the Phenomenology, 1s to begin considering the object ( i n this case, nature), only to find that

one cannot explain our observation of nature except by way of explaining the laws which we ourselves use t o understand its activity, only t o find that we c a n n o t understand ourselves and our psychology except i n the context o f what we are trying to comprehend. T h e

problem in the Phenomenology is that the discussion stops rather abruptly at this p o i n t , and the problem o f knowledge (what is 1t t o k n o w some-

thing? what is i t that we know?) just evaporates, replaced wholesale by the various practical concerns o f ethics and history, and then religion. Schelling’s “Indifference point,” as “absolute knowing,” does not

come u p until 270 pages later, and then with a mere passing reference to “Nature” (807). Within the context o f the Phenomenology alone, therefore, o n e is tempted t o c o n c l u d e t h a t science o f a n y s o r t , a n d nature too,

is

not

o f primary importance i n Hegel's over-all view of

h u m a n experience. I t fascinates h i m , we know from other sources

(including, especially, his later Philosophy of Nature), but, I n the vast panorama o f the Phenomenology, knowledge is essentially ethical, life 1s predominantly ethical life, and insofar as n a t u r e e n t e r s into It, 1t 1s mainly a matter o f curiosity, o r utility, or, i n religion, a source o f ob-

jects o f primitive worship. Hegel's “philosophy of nature,” so far as the Phenomenology 1s concerned, would seem t o be that i t is o u r o w n

activities that are o f genuine importance. Polemics aside, he 1s n o t so far from Fichte after all. O r from most o f us, for that matter.

THE DIALECTIC OF NATURE: FROM THINGS

TO BRAINS AND BEYOND

The over-all strategy of “Observing Reason,” clumsily executed, 1s this: having argued (with Schelling and against Fichte) that we know our-

selves only insofar as we know n a t u r e t o o , and having already shown in general that knowledge requires conceptualization, Hegel now argues that knowledge, as well as desire ( i n chapter 4) takes as its primary objects living things. What this means is that, although he is presumably talking about nature in general—corn plants, beetles, mosses,

414

Hitching the Highway of Despair

mushrooms, bees, banana trees, squids, a n d p o n d scum— Hegel re-

stricts his discussion almost entirely t o the higher animals; indeed, he even casts d o u b t o n the identity o f plants as fully l i v i n g things. ( “ A s a matter

o f fact, the vegetable organism expresses only the simple no-

t i o n o f the organism, which does n o t develop its moments” (265).142 Hegel's strategy, i n other words, 1s t o shift o u r attention from knowl-

edge o f things and their forces (in chapter 3) t o knowledge about living c r e a t u r e s and their activities. What defines a living c r e a t u r e is just the fact that it is a teleological system which c a n n o t be understood except as a whole, which cannot exist i n the sum o f its parts alone.

(Thus plants, which can grow from clippings and reproduce asexually, and minerals, which can be broken into fine grains with their properties still intact, are less l i v i n g and more dificult to emphathize with, to p u t i t mildly.) With this as o u r criterion, i t is easy t o understand why most o f the section consists o f arguments against analysis

and the understanding of living things through their parts: “there are n o laws,” Hegel tells us, again and again. (The anatomy and dis-

section image appears again i n 276.) The aim of the section, which unfortunately proceeds once again by a series of too-quick arguments and merely suggestive examples, 1s t o make us appreciate what Hegel takes t o be the main i f n o t sole function of reason—the comprehension of wholes. I n one passage which suggests the conclusion o f the book as a whole, Hegel argues that “the concept” o f a living t h i n g is never the individual organism but “ t h e real organic concept o r the whole” (266), i n other words, the whole species. ( H e says this i n a brief

discussion of reproduction, or “self-preservation i n general” (ibid.).) Thus we can anticipate too the over-all strategy o f the long third part

o n “Reason”: the relative insignificance o f individuals, the over-all

significance of the whole human world, as a single unity. The section, given this strategy, is defined by a series of polemics, not unlike the first chapters of the book (“Consciousness”), all of which are aimed to show that: (1) living beings must be understood as self-

contained teleological systems and cannot be understood by dissection o r abstraction; (2) l i v i n g beings must be understood i n terms o f

their activities and purposes and n o t by way of general laws, which i n every case t u r n o u t to be “ t r i v i a l ” ; and (3) living beings cannot b e understood i f we divide t h e m into “inner movements” (consciousness,

vital force, instincts, drives and purposes) and “outer expression” or “outer shape” (body organs, biological form, observable behavior). 1 4 2 . I f specism—our u n w a r r a n t e d p r e j u d i c e i n favor o f H o m o sapiens—is n o w o u r

latest Sin, can phylism—the unwarranted preference for Chordate animals—be far

behind?

Consciousness and the Dialectic

415

The conclusion, however, is far more negative, or rather “indeterminate,” t h a n most; we are left at the e n d with a conclusion that living

beings cannot be comprehended by laws or analysis or by reference t o their “inner” purposes either. And then the dialectic just stops.'*’ The section begins with Hegel's reminder that the “observation o f nature” m u s t have “the significance of a universal, n o t o f a sensuous particular” (244). What we are aware of i n “Reason” are our distinctions between things a n d types o f things, b u t this leaves us with the

all-important question whether these distinctions also have a reality i n the things we distinguish. H o w d o we know we are making the

right or the best distinctions, instead of picking o u t “superficial” sumilarities a n d differences? I t is important to remember that the system

of biological taxonomy invented by Carl Linnaeus was less than a century o l d , a n d Lamarck had only recently developed his quasi-

evolutionary theory about acquired changes i n species. Thus the problem of description and classification in biology looms large a t the very beginning o f Hegel’s discussion o f science, for i t is clear to h i m that taxonomy 1s n o t just a question o f naming'#* b u t has built i n t o ı t the entire systematic account o f the subject matter; we d o not first classify

things and then find the laws connecting them; our anticipation of such laws enters i n t o the classification itself (246). I n m o d e r n terms,

a philosopher o f science would say that what

counts

as an “observa-

tion t e r m ” i n a given theory is itself p a r t o f the theory. There are n o

observables as such; in one context one might sensibly talk about “seeing a n electron” ( i n a cloud chamber) b u t i n another context talk about

electrons only as “theoretical constructs.” I t cannot be said that Hegel deals with these difficult questions either deeply o r clearly. What h e says is essentially that o u r sense o f distinc-

tion 1s aided by the objects themselves, which “separate themselves from others” (ibid.). This might be construed as a concession t o realism, but what he has i n mind here is that we distinguish different species o f animals b y the fact that they tend to avoid each other, refuse t o (or cannot) mate, and we define a species by the fact that its

members can and do mate. This principle of differentiation leads Hegel t o comment that plants, which are capable o f asexual reproduc143. I t is h e r e at t h e e n d , n o t t h r o u g h o u t the section, that Findlay’s lament, “for

who s e e k a s t r i c t d e d u c t i v e necessity . . . H e g e l m a y well b e said t o laugh a t their pains,” seems t o apply. B u t Hegel never promises “deductions,” only “comprehension,” and the gaps i n the dialectic can be as meaningful as the “logical” transitions, i f they a r e i n t e r p r e t e d t o mean t h a t H e g e l thinks t h a t t h e r e i s nothing m o r e t o b e said. 144. Adam t o Eve: “Let’s call that one a hippopotamus.” those

Eve: " W h y ? " A d a m : “ B e c a u s e i t l o o k s m o r e l i k e a h i p p o p o t a m u s t h a n a n y t h i n g else w e ' v e s e e n

today.”

416

Hitching the Highway of Despair

tion and growth from cut-off parts, are therefore less complete i n themselves a n d not so clearly d e m a r c a t e d as animals, a n d i n o r g a n i c

substances are even less so. (This 1s a view Hegel expresses at some

length i n the Philosophy of Nature, para 343 ff.) When things do n o t “separate themselves,” “this gives rise t o conflicting views . . . and since the thing itself does n o t remain identical with itself, classification 1s confused” (ibid.). T h e argument is curious, but we can anticipate what

Hegel w a n t s t o do with it. H e has already argued (in chapter 3) that the “forces” we suppose differentiate and unify things are i n fact indistinguishable, a n d h e n o w wants t o set u p a general argument that

things can be properly identified or distinguished only by virtue of their own “inner activity,” which 1s n o t “observed.” But neither is this activity “supersensible,” i n the sense discussed i n chapter 3, nor is i t merely o u r projection o f laws about how a thing “ought” to behave (249). Here again Hegel has i n mind the Kantian-Fichtean view o f

laws o f understanding as nothing but our projections, rather than his own view (borrowed trom Schelling) that we share activities with things, and thus (even as idealists) have t o respect them i n their o w n right

(249). And t o know them i n their own right means,—knowing their “concept.” Several times i n the preceding pages, I have pointed o u t that “the Concept” for Hegel 1s n o t just a feature o f consciousness but, a t the same time, a feature o f things in the world, which is to say, with both Kant and Hegel, that they are real, “objective,” and n o t by any means just “ i n o u r minds.” T h u s Hegel tells us straightforwardly that what we seem to observe 1s itself actually “the Concept,” and n o t a single sensuous particular. H e gives us a number o f examples from physics; when we “see a s t o n e fall t o the ground” we do n o t refer just t o this one “sensuous t h i n g ” ; neither d o we, I n order to k n o w about gravity,

have “to make this experiment with every stone.” We might try this for a few times, Hegel says, inferring “by analogy” (actually, by induction) that probably i t holds i n other cases t o o . But, Hegel rightly points out, this 1s n o t what science 1s about—certain high-school science t e x t books to the contrary. O n e could not even t r y the experiment once

without a hypothesis, and the hypothesis already has built into it the general concept o f gravitation. W h e n we see a single s t o n e “fall,” i n

other words, we see gravity, despite the fact that gravity is n o t a “thing” b u t a concept. (Again, the more modern way to p u t this would be to say that, once a theory is established, what were once theoretical constructs can now count as observables, and we see the phenomenon in their terms (250).)

Hegel gives similar examples with electricity and heat, neither of

Consciousness and the Dialectic

417

which are “things,” nor bodies nor properties, and the conclusion i n each case is that what we observe are universals, i.e. concepts, which,

strictly speaking (that is, limiting what we “hear” or “see” t o sensuous particulars such as a sound o r a flash o f red) we d o n o t observe at all

(251-53). B u t this is the only point Hegel w a n t s t o make i n the Phenomenology about inorganic nature, despite his apparent interest i n the subject at this time.!'*® T h e text instead immediately moves to organic nature, “the organism” (254).

I n discussing living teleological systems (that is, organisms), Hegel makes a point which has often been made i n philosophy and the social sciences, namely, that one does n o t comprehend these by reference t o laws, which are “impoverished” (255); we rather know them because we have “understanding” (Verstehen), n o t in the sense discussed

i n chapter 3 b u t rather i n the later 19th-century sense which we here

have called “empathy,” or what Hegel sometimes calls “instinct” (257). We watch a pigeon peck at the keyboard o f some respectably sadistic

Harvard psychologist’s apparatus, and i t pecks harder still when the assistant varies the reward more erratically. We understand the bird’s behavior n o t because we n o w have a hypothesis about “intermittent

reinforcement” or a set of generalizations about pigeons and what they tend t o do i n Harvard psychology laboratories; we understand because we ourselves work for rewards. We ourselves know what i t is t o be sporadically rewarded. We know what an “End” is (256), and we know about the ends o f others n o t by laws but by “instinct” (257). That is, we “ j u s t k n o w ” ; we know w h y a n animal eats n o t because we first k n o w about the nutritional needs o f its body b u t because we ourselves get hungry we attribute hunger to the animal. I n modern terms,

we m i g h t say that Hegel could n o t be more opposed t o behaviorism, which denies that “this E n d , qua E n d , is also objective, a n d therefore

does n o t fall within the observing consciousness itself, but i n another intelligence” (258). To formulate a law covering a small sampling of 1 4 5 . I n h i s L e c t u r e s o f 1 8 0 5 - 6 , for example, t h e b u l k o f t h e c o u r s e consisted o f mechanics, s p a c e a n d t i m e , chemistry, a n d t h e n a t u r e o f physical bodies as well as “organics” and psychology (Werke, Poggeler, ed. vols. 6, 7). I t might also be pointed out,

however, that Hegel here repeats his disdain for experimental science, with the claim that “the experimental consciousness” separates “pure law” from “sensuous being.” I g a t h e r t h a t his c l a i m i s t h a t experiments, i n t h e i r a i m t o e l i m i n a t e a l l variables b u t t h e factors b e i n g measured, totally eliminate the context i n which such laws are established. T h e o n l y d e f e n s e I c a n see for

this i s that,

i f o n e b e l i e v e s as H e g e l does i n the systematic

interconnection o f all laws, then the idea o f isolating a single law for testing distorts it,

for i t c o u n t s as a law only within the body o f laws. But i n t e r m s o f modern relativity physics, this perhaps naive idealist argument gains some teeth, as soon as one considers the observer too as part o f the system. B u t here, I think Hegel is being more antiscientific than precocious, and i t is n o t H e i s e n b e r g h e is anticipating s o m u c h as h e is expressing laboratory.

his

own

preference

for “ a r m c h a i r s p e c u l a t i o n ” o v e r t h e

dirty work i n

the

418

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

a n animal's behavior is one thing, b u t to know that that behavior is

“ i n and for itself” purposive is

to

“understand” it, in the only sense

that means anything. (One can imagine a n oddly shaped bit o f stuft—

i n a science fiction movie, for instance—whose m o v e m e n t s might be studied i n the fashion o f the behaviorist, until, that is, we become

convinced that it is, after all, a living being responding t o its environi n purposive ways. Then, the behaviorist study stops, and Verstehen begins.)!° The problem which defines Hegel's philosophy of nature and much of the Phenomenology too is the relationship between so-called “inner movement” and “outer expression” (262—63); it 1s the problem that concerned us with “force” in chapter 3, but then we were talking about Newtonian physical force whereas now we are talking about Schellingian teleological activity, the “organic unity” of the organism which is just as much “outer” as “inner” (263-64). Again, a somewhat wooden ontological puzzle can be reconstructed into a conceptual problem of profound proportions; when behaviorists talk about “observation” and refuse t o postulate “intervening variables” (Clark Hull, for example) or “mental way-stations” (B.F. Skinner, notably) in-between observable stimuli and responses, they tend t o ignore the fact that the idenment

tification o f the stimulus (which is n o t just a n aspect o f the environm e n t b u t a n aspect as experienced b y the organism) a n d t h e response

(which is n o t just a m o v e m e n t o f the body but a purposive action) already presuppose postulations about what's going on “inside” of the organism. B u t when anti-behaviorists insist on the actual presence o f an intention, o r an End, within the organism (in a pigeon?!), they lend themselves t o similar difhculties: what is the relationship between the “inner” phenomenon and the “outer” expression, given that, by the very n a t u r e o f the case, we can never observe the “ i n n e r ” phenome-

non for ourselves? This i n t u r n leads Hegel toward the view that the “Inner-outer” distinction itself is in error, a position he will argue, somewhat obscurely, through the rest of this section. The problem that preoccupies Hegel here is that classic Cartesian question, the so-called “mind-body problem.” This is obscured by Hegels heavy reliance on the biological categories of his day, which he mentions, however, only to reject them. (The triad, “Sensibility, I r r i t -

ability, and Reproduction,” appears also in Schelling, who simply picked i t u p from c u r r e n t biology.) B u t this context also provides some very contemporary advances over the crude form in which Descartes posed 1 4 6 . C f . Taylor, The Purpose of Behavior, w h i c h h e does n o t use, c u r i o u s l y enough, t o in t h e PG, despite t h e fact t h a t t h e y a r e so sympathetic t o his

i n t e r p r e t these passages O w n Views.

Consciousness and the Dialectic

419

the problem. First of all, Hegel makes i t into a very tangible problem i n scientific explanation, n o t a metaphysical problem having t o do with the technical notion of “substance.” Second, he raises the question with regard to animals, w h o are n o t self-conscious, instead o f i n

the first person—“How is my mind connected t o my body?”—as i n Descartes. Third, he does n o t talk vaguely about “the mind” or “the body” but rather deals i n specific systems and correlations, between sensations (“Sensibility”) and the nervous system. A n d fourth, he has already cast serious doubts on the possibility of any kind of causal connections o r laws between the two, a n d this is also his conclusion

here—that laws i n this realm are bogus laws (278, 297). Hegel also sees quite clearly, as many contemporary philosophers

do not, that the problem arises n o t because the purported laws o f psychoneurology are “too short-sighted” (269), that is, n o t advanced enough i n present research. The apparent gap between a sensation, o n the one hand, a n d some process i n the central nervous system, o n the other, w i l l remain a mystery, so formulated, n o matter h o w m u c h

information scientists acquire i n the future.!*’ Today, some philosophers who write about the topic refer t o some final physiological function as “ b r a i n process i n C-fibers,” trusting all the while that some neurologist, perhaps n o t yet b o r n , w i l l fill i n the “ C . ” B u t Hegel is

claiming, and I think rightly, that i t does n o t m a t t e r whether you envision the nervous system as h e did—as a total mystery (e.g. see his

Philosophy of Nature, p p . 363—64), o r as a system o f neurons as tiny

tubes with some mysterious “quantity” flowing through them (as Freud believed i n 1895!4%) o r as a system o f selective membranes w i t h fluctuating sodium a n d potassium concentrations, as we now believe. T h e

question remains: How is the “inner” sensation connected with the “outer” organic bodily system? Hegel's reply t o this question, again very contemporary, is indirect; he intends t o undermine the very t e r m s i n which the problem is formulated. H e has already (in chapter 1) rejected the alleged “givenness” of sensations, and he has now rejected any view of living things (higher animals, anyway) which considers detached parts rather than the unified functioning of the whole. Thus the idea of an isolated “brain process,’ or for that matter, even the idea of “the nervous system” considered alone, is a b i t o f biological nonsense. Distinctions between the various systems are ultimately invalid (265-79) (though, t o b e s u r e , Hegel h a s n o objection t o t h e life sciences themselves.) T h e 1 4 7 . P T . G e a c h : “ N o amount o f r e s e a r c h c a n settle a c o n c e p t u a l c o n f u s i o n . ”

148. See, especially, his “Project for a Scientific Psychology,” i n The Standard Edition o f the Collected Works, v o l . 2 .

420

Hitching the Highway o f Despair

objection here drives h o m e this point by pursuing the argument o n two

fronts—by attacking the idea of “inner movement” i n itself, i n

much the same terms that Hegel attacked “forces w i t h i n ” i n chapter

3, and by attacking the mistake of treating biological systems as mere inorganic matter (which they can be only as dead, n o t living, beings). One o f Hegel's arguments here, which he pursues a t some length,

is the difference between talking about some “inner” abstract principle i n an inorganic body and the “inner movements” of an organism; his example is specific gravity (a measure of comparative density, in which water is given the unit “1.”) Specific gravity is the “inner aspect” (288) of the shape of a piece of rock, for example, but i t is n o t , Hegel objects, a “true activity,” with essential relations with all other aspects o f the material (289). A small piece, cut off, still has the

same specific gravity; a small piece of a higher animal, however (the argument won't work with flatworms, hydra, and sponges), loses its “inner movement,” that is, its life.

The argument concludes, inconclusively, with Hegel rejecting the reduction o f the organic to the inorganic; “ t h e inorganic i n n e r is a simple i n n e r which presents itself to perception as a property that

merely 5 ; ... B u t the being-for-self o f the living organism does not stand o n one side i n this way [i.e., “indifferent to its other sensuous properties”] over against its outer; o n the contrary, i t has i n its o w n

self the principle of otherness” (291). The “otherness” is its universal, its “genus” (species) and Hegel's argument here takes the predictable t u r n that life 1s t o be understood (as i t is usually defined) as the ability t o reproduce itself, t o exist for the sake of the species rather than just for itself. The “inner” principle of living things, therefore, is n o t just

a single measurement available to observers, b u t t h e vital instinct to

preserve itself and its kind. Hegel points o u t (dubiously) the infinite variety of biological shapes, all of them with the same “inner movement’—life (291-93), and so concludes, i n typical Hegelian fashion, that organic n a t u r e really requires a concept o f life in general (295), o r universal life (293, 297),

which is expressed i n its myriad of aspects. Ultimately, the end of “Observing Nature” is n o t even “the organic as such, but i n the universal i n d i v i d u a l ’ — t h e l i v i n g E a r t h (296). T h u s he reaches his i n -

tended universal, readying us for a reversal back t o the individual i n the n e x t section. B u t we have lost t h e thread o f o u r argument, which 1s a n attack o n the division o f “ i n n e r ” a n d “ o u t e r ” , consciousness a n d its bodily manifestations. For this, let us skip the short polemic o n “Laws o f T h o u g h t ” and move straight o n t o the notorious refutation

o f physiognomy and phrenology. Hegel’s attack o n “Laws o f Thought” is i n fact already familiar

to

us, first, i n his attack o n the “arbitrary”

Consciousness and the Dialectic

421

collection of laws utilized by Kant i n his own analysis of the mind, second i n Hegel's over-all rejection of deterministic psychology, in the name o f “freedom.” Thinking, Hegel says, can be comprehended only

by the individual, and “psychological necessity” 1s nothing but an “empty phrase” (307). The suspicious sub-section on these t w o “pretentious pseudos c i e n c e s49 ” is actually entitled, “ T h e Observation o f the relation o f self-consciousness t o its immediate actuality” (185). T h e “immediate

actuality” is the brain, and what Hegel is here considering is the mindbody problem i n its m o s t sophisticated version at the time. Physiognomy and phrenology (which were by no means so obviously “pseudo” as they seem t o us n o w ) were b u t two particular manifestations o f a

general suggestion with which Hegel is i n qualified agreement—that the Cartesian distinction between self-consciousness (or simply, consciousness, “ t h e m i n d ” ) a n d its “immediate actuality” (the body, a n d

in particular the brain and central nervous system) is invalid, and that the body is inseparably permeated with conscious activity, “the mind” necessarily embodied and permeated the body. (Even Descartes objected, i n his reply t o Gassendi concerning his Sixth Meditation, that the mind is n o t lodged i n the body like a sailor ın a ship.) What physiognomy and phrenology share is the supposition that mind is manitested necessarily in the body, n o t only in behavior but in the very shape o f the body, the face, the bones o f the skull. I f these two attempts at

science failed t o identify a very plausible locus for these necessary manifestations, their supposition is still very much alive in contemporary neuro-psychology, which still assumes, though with increasing scepticism, that the various mental functions necessarily have their locus in specific sections and even i n particular anatomical sub-sections of the brain. Hegel's actual arguments against the pseudo-sciences are wholly familiar a n d n o t very important t o us here; these “sciences” are rarely a c c u r a t e b u t hide this with a variety o f excuses; every exception 1s explained away a n d the laws themselves are general enough so that

they are ultimately “empty” (338).!5° What is important is the supposition that underlies these pseudo-sciences, what they are trying t o do 149. ] . N . Findlay, Hegel, p. 106. 150. The best discussion o f Hegel's analysis o f physiognomy and phrenology is Alasdair Maclntyre’s “Hegel on Faces and Skulls,” in his Hegel (pp. 219-36). The m o s t concise characterization o f these “sciences” themselves, however, belongs to A m b r o s e Bierce, i n his Devil's Dictionary (1881): Phrenology, n . T h e science o f p i c k i n g t h e p o c k e t t h r o u g h t h e s c a l p . I t consists i n l o c a t i n g a n d

exploiting the organ thal one is a dupe with. Physiognomy, n . T h e a r t o f d e t e r m i n i n g the c h a r a c t e r

of another

by the resemblances

and

differ-

ences between h i s face a n d o u r o w n , w h i c h is t h e s t a n d a r d o f excellence.

I t is worth noting that Hegel also discusses the pseudo-sciences o f palmistry and astrology i n passing here, but he dismisses them because they have nothing t o d o with

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

422

and—what is usually ignored—what is correct about them. We are now considering only human life, and the “inner” becomes full-blown intentions; the “ o u t e r ” n o w takes o n a variety o f forms, including full-

fledged intentional actions as well as unintentional but conscious gestures a n d the more fixed and physiological aspects o f the body. All o f

these together are called “expression,” and Hegel points o u t that every expression is both something over and above its intention and less than i t (for example, when a person is clumsy and c a n n o t do what he intends (312).) T h e question, then, is where we should look for the

bodily expressions of intentions. Actions can be misleading, deceptive, o r misfire. Gestures are more dependable, b u t they too can be

faked, deceptive, and occasionally misfire (for example, they can be misconstrued (ibid.)). What we need therefore is a more “passive” kind of expression, one which c a n n o t be varied according t o the whim o r mishaps o f the subject. T h u s we come t o look a t the more fixed

physiological features as some source of insight into people’s “real” character, whatever their overt behavior a n d expressions. T h e face is a reasonable candidate, for i t m u s t be admitted that we d o place enor-

mous stock—more than we would admit i n a philosophical discussion—on “first impressions” a n d the mere appearance o f a person. B u t , H e g e l points out, this isn’t very dependable and, besides, know-

ing that someone has a certain capacity, for example,

to

be a mur-

derer, 1s n o t yet to say that h e w i l l be one (320). So faces too are too

“superficial” and, at the same time, n o t sufficiently informative. Bones are another suggestion, since the skull is as close as can be t o the physiological c e n t e r of consciousness, the brain. Thus the attraction of phrenology. Why n o t look for these manifestations i n the brain itself? Because Hegel’s generation knew virtually nothing about the workings of the brain, except that i t is, somehow, the organ o f consciousness. This

leads him

to

say that “the being of Spirit which, i n the brain, is re-

flected i n t o itself, is itself again only a middle term between Spirit's

pure essence and its corporeal articulation” (327). I n other words, the brain is n o t only close t o consciousness (“Spirit”); i t is indistinguishable from it, “Spirit . . . reflected into itself” i n physical form. What Hegel is here toying with is that complex of theories which are today debated as the “identity theory” of mind-body, n o t that the mind is identical with the brain simpliciter, perhaps, but that, a t some point, one has t o hypothesize that a physiological process and a conscious process (for example, a particular memory o r emotion) are the same thing. “expression.” The topic here, i n other words, is “expression” (“inner” and “outer™), n o t p s e u d o - s c i e n c e i n general.

Consciousness a n d the Dialectic

This 1s n o t

to

423

deny that the relationship between them is still logically

contingent (342) as well as “only a middle term” (327) but, nevertheless, there is a p o i n t at which (according to this theory) there is n o

longer any justification i n distinguishing t h e m . ! 5 ! This would be Spirit’s “indifference point,” i n Schelling’s language, that level of explanation where Spirit a n d nature are n o longer distinct o r distinguish-

able. Instead of looking for clues t o one’s character i n the brain (and it is essential t o remember that a physiologist i n Hegels time would n o t have had the slightest idea what t o look for), the phrenologist looks at the “inert, enduring existence,” which is the “necessary aspect o f the

spiritually organic being” (328), namely, the skull and vertebral colu m n . N o w it is easy enough to guess Hegel's criticism o f the theory that a “ b u m p is connected w i t h a particular passion, property, etc.”

(336), namely, that any number o f factors could cause such bumps, that there is no evidence that such bumps follow law-like patterns, and, ultimately, that character is “indifferent” t o its “outer existence” (330). But what is n o t so easily noticed is Hegel’s recognition that there is something profound i n this admittedly “bad” science (340); even though “this final stage o f Reason i n its observational role is its

worst” (ibid.), i t recognizes, as many more respectable sciences do not, the inseparability of consciousness and its expressions, the fact that a disembodied spirit is an unintelligible notion and that by the same token the examination of the living body, whether brain or bone, cann o t proceed without an integrated view of its function in the living being. I t may be “disgraceful” t o have the “irrational, crude thought which takes a bone for the reality o f selt-consciousness” (345), b u t n o

phrenologist has ever been that naive. Contemporary neuropsychology, on the other hand, is still pervaded with reductive materialists who insist that “consciousness 1s nothing but the brain” (e.g. Carl Sagan, i n the introduction t o the Dragons ofEden.)!5? I think i t is a fair question t o ask whether they, n o t the crude phrenologists whom Hegel explicitly attacks, might n o t be fitting targets for the general argument of this curious section. The upshot is this: insofar as o n e tries to s u n d e r t h e integrity o f t h e l i v i n g organism i n t o

components—whether physical or metaphysical—one either becomes incapable of explaining their function and unity or becomes committed to some form o f reductionism. ( F r o m the subjective idealist side, 151. O n the so-called “contingent identity theory” see, for example, Jerome Shaffer, The Philosophy of Mind (Englewood Cliffs, N . J.: Prentice-Hall, 1968). See also Crawford Elder, Appropriating Hegel (Aberdeen: Aberdeen Univ. Press, 1980), for a well-workedo u t v e r s i o n o f H e g e l ' s t h e o r y (based o n t h e Logic).

152. Sagan, Dragons of Eden, p. 7.

424

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

the thesis is that the body is nothing but the mind, “Brain fibers are n o more than the hypothetical reality existing only in one’s head” (346). T h e conclusion is n o more absurd.) T h e object o f knowledge is

a unified teleological whole, which is t o be understood only through its own activity. To see ourselves as anything less—as mere mechanical bodies, for example, rather than spiritual (living) beings—is t o be just as crude, Hegel suggests with a hint of naughtiness, as someone who treated the (male) genitals, “the organ of nature’s highest fulfillment” as the mere “ o r g a n o f u r i n a t i o n ” (ibid.).

O n that sexy n o t e we t u r n back t o the other theme o f the Phenom-

enology, the realm of “self-consciousness” and our practical engagei n the world.

ments

Chapter Eıght

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom (chapter 4) Strictly speaking, you have no consciousness o f things, but only consciousness o f consciousness of things.

Consciousness connects with reality in action; I possess reality and comprehend i t , because i t lies within m y o w n being, i t is native to myself. —Fichte, Vocation ofM a n

“With Self-Consciousness,” Hegel informs us, “we have entered the native realm of truth” (167). I n fact we have entered the realm of Fichte’s philosophy and, more importantly, we have entered the realm o f the most famous p a r t o f the Phenomenology, the realm o f the “Mas-

and Slave” (Lordship and Bondage, Herrschaft und Knechischaft). These few pages have inspired no less brilliant admirers than Karl Marx and Jean-Paul Sartre! and i t is with visible relief t h a t m o s t commentators launch into the first section of the Phenomenology with which they can ter

feel fully confident. Suddenly, we t h i n k t h a t we know what we're talki n g about: two people (ostensibly m e n , t h o u g h they are called “self1. Marx's debt t o Hegel, o f course, is now widely recognized, due t o the pro-Hegelian sympathies o f the Marxists o f the Frankfurt School, Herbert Marcuse i n particular (Reason and Revolution). Although Marx talks about the Philosophy ofRight a t much greater length, his admiration was directed m u c h more to the PG, the Master-Slave parable i n particular. See, e.g., D a v i d McClellan, Karl Marx: His Life and Thought ( N e w

York: Harper and Row, 1973). Jean-Paul Sartre used the Hegelian parable t o begin his long and somewhat paranoid discussion o f “Being-for-Others” i n Being andNothingness, t r a n s . H a z e l B a r n e s ( N e w York: Philosophical Library, 1 9 5 6 ) . A l t h o u g h Sartre’s analysis

is usually interpreted as a psychological study, i t is just as much and even more an

ontology of selfhood,a terrifying study of the vicissitudes of romantic love, sex, hatred, masochism, sadism, a n d indifference, w i t h o u t a h i n t o f sentimentality. I n Sartre’s form u l a t i o n , t h e essence o f a l l i n t e r p e r s o n a l relations is “conflict”—the a t t e m p t o f each person t o assert himself or herself as “absolute freedom” and t u r n the other into a n “ o b j e c t ” w h i c h i s n o l o n g e r a threat t o t h a t f r e e d o m .

425

426

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

consciousness”) m e e t for the first time and immediately begin t o fight for “recognition” (Anerkennen). One wins, one loses. A n d then, ironically, the loser emerges the winner. I t is simple, straightforward, strik-

ing, prophetic—unlike the tedious interplay of “forces” we suffered through only a few pages before (in chapter 3) and unlike the abs t r u s e warblings about “desire” that immediately precede it, by way of an introduction.? Thus Findlay gladly declares i t “more lucid and illuminating” than all that has come before and, i n tacit contrast, h e

calls i t “deservedly admired.”® Alexandre Kojéve goes one step further and simply weaves the whole story of the Phenomenology around it, beginning with “desire” and all but pretending that the first three chapters of the book do n o t even exist.* T h e Master-Slave parable (as I shall refer to i t ) is, o f course, o f

immense importance t o the Phenomenology and t o Hegel's philosophy i n general. I t appears, i n virtually the same form, i n every one o f his works on “Spirit,” including his Jena lectures of the same period? and the “Philosophy o f Spirit” of the later Encyclopaedia. I n one sense, there 1s n o problem o f interpretation here—unlike some o f the earlier chapters; at least we are certain about what Hegel is talking about— some primitive confrontation o f t w o primordial persons. T h e ques-

tion is: How does this fit i n with the

rest

of the book and Hegel's

philosophy? What is i t supposed to mean i n terms o f the over-all “dia-

lectic,” and why—its intrinsic fascination aside—should it occur i n the Phenomenology, and occur a t this particular point (rather than in the chapter o n “Spirit,” to w h i c h i t would seem more akin)? I n d e e d , even

the most conscientious commentators tend t o t r e a t the celebrated section as a major break i n the text, the sudden and totally unexplained

appearance of the “social” dimension of human experience which just as suddenly disappears into a discussion o f the philosophy o f the stoics.® O n the one hand, I would agree with Kojeve that the Phenomenology could have begun with the section o n “desire”? (just as i t could have 2. R i c h a r d N o r m a n , for example, simply dismisses the e n t i r e section o n “ d e s i r e ” i n h i s Hegel's Phenomenology ( N e w Y o r k : S t . Martin's Press, 1 9 7 7 ) a n d calls i t “ e x t r e m e l y

unrewarding,” “unintelligible,” concluding “ 1 shall say little about it” (p. 47); Ivan Soll, Introduction to Hegel's Metaphysics, p . 10ff.

3. Findlay, Hegel, p . 93. 4. Alexandre Kojeve, A n Introduction to Reading Hegel, trans. J.H. Nichols, ed. Alan B l o o m ( N e w York, 1969).

5. I n t h e l e c t u r e s , however, t h e emphasis is o n t h e social origins of relationships. 6. For example, Soll, pp. 9, 14f.; Findlay, Hegel; Hyppolite, pp. 162ff. 7. T h e e n t h u s i a s t i c over-emphasis o n t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f “ d e s i r e ” i n Kojeve’s i n t e r pretation I a t t r i b u t e to a peculiar French fashion, to w h i c h Kojeve h i m s e l f mightily c o n t r i b u t e d : i t includes Sartre, o f course, a n d , today, Jacques Lacan a n d Michel Foucault, for w h o m t h e w o r d has become the fetish that “freedom” was i n the post-war, m o r e Cartesian days. S e e , for example, L a c a n ’ s e x c u r s i o n s i n t o H e g e l

i n a r lectures, 1970).

i n h i s Ecrits (Sem-

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

427

begun with primitive family life i n “Spirit” or the elementary forms of religious experience i n chapter 7). The Phenomenology is a panorama with a number of potential starting points, and primitive desire is certainly one o f them. But, on the other hand, the point is that Hegel d i d not so begin. I n o u r reading, the transition from the K a n -

tian forms of “understanding” t o “desire” and “Master and Slave” has t o be accounted for, n o t ignored or denied. But there is a straightforward progression here which can be understood i n a w o r d , a n d the

word 1s—Fichte. Anyone who has read Fichte will recognize him here; the pragmatic t u r n is his; the Master-Slave parable itself is (most immediately) from Fichte; the notion o f “Selt-Certainty” is p u r e Fichte; a n d the whole

idea of self-consciousness and conflict as “the native realm of truth” is from Fichte. O f course, this is n o t all that i t is, b u t neither should one treat the Master-Slave parable o u t o f context, cutting i t oft en-

tirely from the r e s t of the book. Perhaps the first point t o make about the place of the parable i n the Phenomenology is that i t is not, in any way, about the “social” dimension of human experience.® I t is, Hegel tells us, the first appearance o f “Spirit,” the first conception o f interpersonal unity (177), but the participants i n the parable do n o t know this. I n the philosophical parlance that utterly dominated the philosophical c o n t e x t of both Fichte and Hegel, the initial confrontation of t w o more-or-less “independent” persons i n “the state of nature” is emphatically pre-social, before the formation o f society. I n fact, i n Hobbes, in Rousseau, and i n Fichte,

i t is this pre-social confrontation, whether nasty, brutish and short as in Hobbes, or compassionately “indifterent” as i n Rousseau, that prefigures the formation o f society through some mythical agreement o r

The master-slave parable is Hegels contribution t o that lively and popular debate, but i t is not, therefore, the first appearance o f the “social.” Indeed, i t should strike any reader who thinks so as quite odd that, instead of moving straight on t o “Spirit” and the n a t u r e of society as such, Hegel should spend another one and a half chapters, 150 pages and nearly 250 paragraphs before doing so. The second preliminary point t o make is that the Master-Slave par-

contract.

able is not, as Marx a n d Sartre later reinterpret i t , about “freedom.” T h e title o f the section, i n tact, is “Independence a n d Dependence”;

“Freedom” does n o t appear until the following section (on “Stoicism, Skepticism a n d Unhappy Consciousness”). Freedom is a concept that

emerges from the master-slave confrontation; i t is

not

its object; the

8. This view is taken for granted, i n a few cases argued, by Findlay, Marcuse, Kojeve, Hyppolite, a n d Soll, t o n a m e b u t a few.

428

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

slave does n o t long for his freedom, and the end of the story is not, though i t m i g h t warm our liberal hearts, the “liberation” o f the slave. T h e t h i r d p o i n t is t h a t w e s h o u l d n o t expect Hegel t o g i v e u s m o r e

t h a n t h e parable is designed to exemplify. I f indeed it were, as Kojeve

and others have read it, a study in the dynamics of social relations or a psychological study o f domination and submission, then we could quite rightly criticize Hegel for giving us so little by way of detail.” Thus commentators have debated with one another—Why does the master not kill the slave? A n d why does the slave choose servitude t o death? Why do they have t o fight t o the death a t all? A n d what is i t about the slave’s condition (his fear of the master, his fear of death, his relationship t o his work) that renders him ultimately independent?!® Indeed, these are fascinating questions, but they are for the most part inessential t o the point of the parable, which is the formation of self-consciousness. The precise details of interpersonal confrontation are n o t important t o Hegel’s purpose, any more than the precise nat u r e o f the “forces” i n “Force and the Understanding” (ch. 3) were

essential t o Hegel's analysis of scientific explanation (a la Newton). I t didn’t really matter whether he was discussing gravity o r electromagnetism o r chemical b o n d i n g to make his p o i n t , a n d the exact socio-

dynamics of interpersonal relations are not required for Hegel t o make his point here either—that self-consciousness becomes determinate only through interaction with another self-consciousness. (Hegel explicitly makes this connection i n 1 184). For the brutal details, I cann o t recommend anything better than Sartre’s brilliant dialectic on “Being-for-Others” i n Being and Nothingness, Part 111. But for an understanding o f the Phenomenology i t is far more important t o look back and ahead, t o the earlier sections of the book and Fichte’s philosophy and t o the study of Stoicism etc. that follow. T h e Master-Slave parable is n o t a condensed epic about t h e impor-

of work and the inevitable mastery of the working class. I t is a distilled and overly abstract psychological study of servitude and oppression. I t is i n brief an ontological theory about the n a t u r e of “selthood” i n which the whole history of philosophy, and i n particular the Cartesian-Leibnizian vision o f the fully formed individual ego is summarily rejected. Surely that is enough t o do i n less than nine pages. tance

not

9. Soll, for example, makes this lament, attacking Findlay’s attempts t o provide the arguments for Hegel (Soll, p . 164). H e rightly criticizes F i n d l a y for his “overly episte-

mological” interpretation, insisting instead on the “plainly practical character” o f the section, despite the epistemological idiom o f Hegel's discussion (pp. 9-10,16). 10. For example, Kaufmann, p. 153; Findlay, p. 96, Josiah Royce, p. 177, Soll, p. 184.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

429

Self-Certainty and the History of the Self—as Monad, as Cogito, as Everything There is no way of explaining how a monad can be altered or changed in its inner being by any other created thing, since there is no possibility of transposition within i t . . . The Monads have n o windows through which anything can come i n or go o u t . —Leibniz, Monadology I am, I exist, is necessarily t r u e each time that I pronounce it, or that I mentally conceive it. —Descartes, Meditation IT I am indeed conscious o f myself as an independent being; . . . I have immediate knowledge of myself alone. —Fichte, Vocation of Man

Himself as everything! How does Mrs. Fichte put u p with it? —H. Heine

To understand the “sudden” appearance of another person i n the Phenomenology, it is first of all necessary t o look back with fascination and dismay a t the whole history of modern philosophy, from Desc a r t e s and Locke t o Kant, i n which other people, other self-consciousnesses, are silently absent. I n d e e d i t is the assumption—not even pon-

dered sufhciently

to

be called a pre-supposition—that what is

“immediately” k n o w n t o us are o u r individual selves as knowers. For

Descartes i t is the Cogito—*“1 think, therefore I am”; for Kant i t is the “transcendental unity of apperception”—the “possibility of the ‘ I think’ accompanying all of my representations.” I n John Locke’s varied deliberations concerning self-identity i n his Essay Concerning Human Understanding the possibility t h a t the “self” is essentially a social creation rather than a feature of personal experience is n o t even considered, a n d i n Hume’s denial o f the existence o f a self, the idea that h e m i g h t be looking for i t in the wrong place—namely, i n his own consciousness—never even occurs t o h i m :

There are some philosophers who imagine we are every moment intimately conscious o f what we call our self; that we feel its existence and its continuance in existence, and are certain, beyond the evidence o f a demonstration, both of its perfect identity and simplicity . . . Unluckily, all o f these positive assertions are contrary t o that very experience which is pleaded for them. . . I can never catch myself at any time w i t h o u t a perception, and I

can never observe anything b u t the perception, . .

.!!

The m o s t spectacular assertion of this view o f the isolated, individ11. Treatise on Human Nature, Selby-Bigge, ed., i v , i .

430

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ual, largely perceptual self could be found i n Germany. A century betore Hegel, Leibniz had developed his theory of monads, each of them totally self-contained, literally the whole world within itself programmed (“in pre-established harmony”) by God. There is some indication, perhaps, that Leibniz’s theory is n o t intended t o be a theory o f self-identity a t all,'? but the image deeply affected every German philosopher following him. Consciousness was a self-enclosed realm. O n reflection, consciousness became self-consciousness and, u p o n transcendental reflection (as i n Kant) i t came t o see itself as n o t only

the recipient but the source o f the world i t perceived. I t is i n this Leibnizian-Kantian light that we must understand the apparent arrogance

of Fichte’s statements; “ I am wholly my own creation” and “whatever has an existence for me has i t through myselt.”!? This is n o t pathological egomania'4; i t is the philosophical tradition. The “ I ” is everything. A n d i t is worth noting that in every one of these philosophical giants, i n Germany from Leibniz to Fichte, i n England from Locke to Russell, i n France from Descartes to Sartre, the self (“for itself”) is

the beginning of philosophy; the existence of other people is hardly even mentioned, that is, u n t i l they suddenly s t a r t d o i n g ethics (as i n

Kant’s second Critique) o r until other people are presented as a problem (as i n John Stuart Mill's “problem o f other minds” o r i n Jean-Paul

Sartre’s “Reef of Solipsism”). Even in Fichte’s Wissenschaftlehre, the existence of other selves plays a minimal role, and then late in the game.!® This is the philosophical background against which the appearance of t w o people instead of just one i n the Master-Slave parable m u s t be understood. I t is n o t the unwarranted appearance of the “social”; i t is n o t the intrusion of another person into the fully formed world of self-consciousness.!® I t is Hegel's bold demonstration of the radical view that, without interpersonal interaction and the mutual demand for what h e calls “recognition,” there is n o “self” a n d n o “self-con-

sciousness.” There is no self-enclosed monad; there is no possibility of a Cogito ergo sum. Hume is right i n his insistence that he can find 12. See, e.g., Ruth Saw, Leibniz (London: Penguin, 1954). 13. Fichte, Vocation of M a n , p p . 103, 108.

14. For example, George Santayana'’s amusing but wholly undependable The Ego in German Philosophy; o n H e g e l : “ h e must pretend t h a t his egoism was n o t egotism, b u t

identity with the absolute” (p. 91). 15. I n Part I I I , “The Foundation o f Knowledge o f the Practical” (pp. 218-87), the “not-self” is usually impersonal and only rarely given the status of another self. Indeed, considering the highly moral n a t u r e o f the work, the absence of almost all mention of relations t o others is no less than shocking. 16. Soll: “ i n the social sphere, but i n an anti-social way” (p. 17). And George Arms t r o n g Kelly, “ N o t e s o n Hegel's ‘ L o r d s h i p and B o n d a g e , ” i n M a c I n t y r e , Hegel, esp. pp.

196-97.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

431

n o immediate self i n his consciousness (though Hegel does not dis-

cuss h i m on this topic, even i n his Lectures on the History ofPhilosophy).'” A n d knowledge is n o t , as i n virtually every other modern philosopher, a relation between m e (as “knower”) and the world (as “known”). I f one reads Hegel's Phenomenology n o t as history ( i n which case the whole section o n “Self-Consciousness” is absurdly misplaced) b u t as a

conceptual series of forms and theories, the function of which is t o give us a comprehensive picture of human experience, then the Master-Slave section is intended as a corrective t o the view that we have

so far (both i n the Phenomenology and in the history of philosophy) assumed t o be obviously t r u e : that the self is essentially a cognitive self known through (or i n o r “behind”) experience and that i t is essentially an individual self, a c o n c r e t e particular that is recognized through immediate intuition. I n our Chapter 7, we looked i n some detail—as much as is sanctioned by the t e x t — a t Hegels Fichtean pragmatic move; knowledge is n o t , Hegel argues, exclusively a matter of “theory.” I t is also practical, n o t o n l y i n its consequences b u t i n its sources a n d its parame-

Indeed, i n Fichte, the pragmatic t u r n itself becomes total: “ I f my knowledge revealed t o me nothing but knowledge, I would be defrauded of my whole life.” ! ® For Fichte t o o , the self is n o t a particular, determinate entity. Indeed he argues that individual selves, along with ters.

the “not-self,” are created b y the self which is, itself, indeterminate.

B u t for Fichte along with the whole tradition since Descartes, the self itself is an immediate object of knowledge, indeed, the ultimate object of knowledge, “certain of itself” i n the sense that i t could n o t possibly be questioned.!? I n his Lectures on the History ofPhilosophy, Hegel spells o u t the cryptic references o f “Selt-Certainty” i n chapter 4. Descartes and Fichte are treated i n much the same way: “Descartes begins, just as Fichte did later on, with the ‘ I ’ as indubitably certain; I know that something 1s presented i n me.”?% I n fact, Descartes is rendered more sympathetically, perhaps, than he ought t o be. The Cogito of the Meditations seems obviously enough to be a n individual ego ( i f something less t h a n a

whole person). B u t i n the Lectures, Hegel tells us, speaking o f Descartes; 17. H i s discussion o f H u m e 1s i n Lectures, trans. Haldane and Simson (New York:

Humanities Press, 1955), vol. 3, pp. 369-75. 18. Vocation o fMan, p . 93. 19. Wiss., p . 93ff., “ F i r s t Unconditioned Principle.” 20. Lectures, 3 , p . 228.

432

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

The “ I ” has significance here as thought, n o t as individuality o f selfconsciousness. . . . hence the immediate certainty o f thought. Certainty is only knowledge as such in its pure form o f self-relating.?’

I t is with Descartes that “modern philosophy” begins?? and Fichte with whom i t begins t o reach its modern completion (which is i n Hegel, of course).

Self-consciousness does n o t entirely begin in chapter 4; the “ I ” has been with us since “Sense-Certainty” (100-102, especially). Descartes’s Cogito and certainly the empirically discovered particular o f John Locke’ self (which Hume couldn’t find) more properly belong t o that discussion. The self of “Sense-Certainty” is uncritically assumed t o be a bare particular, a knowing self, which is sufficiently unproblematic so that all of our attention is turned t o the n a t u r e of the object of knowledge, which is shown n o t t o be a particular a t all (90-110). A similar argument is advanced against the “ I ” (102) i n which it t o o is said t o be a universal and indeterminate (“everyone is equally ‘ I ’ ” ) , b u t so briefly that i t m u s t be considered there as b u t a

foretaste o f a more massive set o f considerations yet t o come ( i f also

briefly and obscurely presented) i n chapter 4. The “ I ” is n o t an individual “ I ” after all; i t is, o r tries to be, everything. This is certainly n o t to be ascribed to Descartes; i t 1s pure Fichte, and n o one else: “ N o t h i n g is more insupportable t o m e than t o be merely by another, for

another, through another; I must be something for myself and by myself alone.” 23 Descartes worried about how he could infer from consciousness a n d its “thoughts” to the reality o f things “outside” o f h i m ; Fichte, a

thorough idealist, does n o t worry about this—*“whatever has exist e n c e has i t through myself”** and “Strictly speaking, you have no consciousness of things, but only a consciousness of a consciousness of things”, 2» which Hegel summarizes as: WhenI philosophize, I make my ordinary consciousness itself my object, because I make a pure category o f my consciousness; I know what my ego is doing, and thus I get behind my ordinary consciousness. Fichte thus defines philosophy as the artificial consciousness, as the

21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26.

consciousness o f consciousness.

I b i d . 227. I b i d . 166, 220ff. Vocation o fM a n , p . 95. I b i d . 108. I b i d . 55. Lectures, vol. 3 , p . 484.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

433

And i n the Phenomenology; W i t h that first m o m e n t [recognition o f things], self-consciousness is in the form o f consciousness, a n d the whole expanse o f the sensuous

world is preserved for it, but a t the same time only as connected with the second moment, the unity o f self-consciousness with itself. (167)

Fichte does n o t deny the existence of “the sensuous world”; he only says that this world exists by being “posited” by the self. The self needs opposition to define itself, o r as Hegel puts i t i n the Lectures, “the ego m u s t n o t remain barren.”?? T h e self itself, as H e g e l puts i t

i n the Phenomenology, c a n n o t remain as a “motionless tautology” (i.e. “Ego=Ego” o r “ I =1," as Fichte sometimes stated his first principle?)

or, i n the Lectures, an “abstract undetermined identity.” ?® The self “posits” the “not-self,” the sensuous world. I t is worth noting that Hegel also attributes this move t o Descartes (which 1s certainly n o t justified by the text) when he says that “the celebrated Cogito ergo sum is Thought and Being inseparably bound together”3° ( I I I 228). I n defense of Fichte’s move, he curiously comments: This other is the negative o f the ego: thus when Fichte called i t the non-ego he was expressing himself i n a very happy, suitable and consistent manner. [!] There has been a good deal o f ridicule c a s t on the ego and non-ego; the expression is new, and therefore t o us Germans i t seems strange a t first. B u t the French say mo: and Non-moi

without finding anything laughable in it.

I n the Phenomenology, o f course, Fichte does n o t emerge as “happy”

all, for it is his initial “positing” of the distinction between self and not-self and what Hegel t o o freely translates n t o “appearance and at

t r u t h ” (167) that leads us, i n the course o f this chapter, to the most

“unhappy” o f consciousnesses.>? For Fichte (but n o t Descartes), the self, though immediately k n o w n

by “intuition,” has

to

prove itself. I t will find itself (that is, become

27. Ibid. 484. 28. The “ A = A ” formula is derived from Leibniz (see pp. 67). God, i n Leibniz’s philosophy, knows all truths as necessary and, all necessary truths are ultimately equivalent. Thus, for God, o r for an absolute Ego, everything is identical to everything else,

or “ A = A ’ 29. Lectures, vol. 3.

30. Ibid. 228. 31. Ibid. 488-89. 32. F i c h t e does n o t use this distinction, since h e rejects t h e K a n t i a n dualism o f phe-

nomenon (appearance) and noumenon (thing i n itself). Indeed, even i n his more pop-

ular and initially Cartesian Vocation ofMan, this distinction plays virtually no role a t all. B u t the idea that Fichte ignored the “ t r u t h ” o f knowledge, i n his zealous pursuit o f the practical, is o f course the main point o f both Schelling’s and Hegel's rejection of Fichte’s philosophy.

434

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

determinate) only through conflict and struggle. Thus the concepts of conflict and striving become central t o Fichte’s Wissenschaftlehre. Struggle against what? The not-selt, of course, and it is the unresolved “opposition” between them that leads Hegel, from his early Differenz-essay of 1801 until his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, t o ulumately reject Fichte’s philosophy as “unsystematic” I n other words, he never achieves that vision of ultimate harmony that had always been Hegel’s ideal, which remains his ideal i n the Phenomenology and throughout his life. (Yet, i t 1s Fichte who insists t o o : “ I t is the vocation o f o u r race t o unite itself i n t o a single body.” 3 ? )

Life is struggle, Fichte tells us, and despite the distant ideal of harmony, i t is clear that, without “opposition” life would have n o mean-

ing a t all. This would seem t o pre-figure the life-and-death struggle between the soon-to-be m a s t e r and slave right a t the heart of Fichte’s philosophy, but this t u r n s o u t n o t t o be so. I n the Wissenschaftlehre there is precious little mention o f other people, and insofar as they are men-

tioned, they are “self-existent, free substantive beings, wholly independent of me.” The obvious consequence (given Fichte’s insistence on being “everything”) is an inevitable conflict between individuals, but this does n o t emerge in the Wissenschaftlehre. Even i n The Vocation of Man, we get only: “ I t is n o t n a t u r e but freedom itself by which the greatest and most terrible disorders are produced; m a n is the cruelest

enemy of man.”3* The struggle for self is essentially a struggle against the impersonal not-selt and against the “counter-striving of the not-self.” I t is n o t a t all clear that this struggle involves a struggle between persons, and Fichte “deduces” n o t conflict but rather respect and morality—the ends of “practical reason” a la Kant. The life-and-death struggle only begins with Fichte’s ethics which, strangely enough, is just as distinct from his theory o f “knowledge” as i t is i n Kant, whom Fichte criticizes for just this separation. The struggle with the not-self produces feeling for Fichte, “longing” as well as “ d e s i r e . ” This, o f course, is the l i n k with “desire” i n chapter

4 of the Phenomenology. Hegel's argument there—like all of the

arguments i n this chapter—should strike us as shockingly short; h e

says: The antithesis o f its appearance and its truth has, however, for its essence only the truth, viz. the unity o f self-consciousness with itself; 33. Vocation of M a n , p . 120. 34. I b i d . 117.

35. Wiss., pp. 21811. esp. 254-71.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

435

this unity m u s t become essential t o self-consciousness, i.e. self-consciousness is Desire i n general. (167)

Taken at face value, this is unintelligible, b u t w i t h Fichte as o u r guide, we can easily enough understand the move. I t is by opposing oneself

other things and then “negating their otherness”—e.g. by eating them or by buying them or by declaring them one’s own “property”—

to

that we achieve a sense o f self. Thus i t was a common argument o f

the day (and i t is still dominant) that private property is nothing less than the definition (not merely a n extension o f ) the self; i t is o u r “negation” o f the natural world around us which makes us most human. We can “negate” i n conceptual ways unimaginable t o animals; a d o g can negate a piece o f m e a t b y chewing i t , b u t h e can’t “negate its

otherness” by buying i t a t the super-market. For the dog, possession (negation of otherness) requires physical command; we, on the other hand, have even “negated the otherness” of the Heavens, by naming the stars and understanding them, thus making them, in some sense “our own.” (This sounds far-fetched, but Hegel’s theory of knowledge involves “owning” the world i n precisely this sense, a n d i t is a view that we find again and again i n Nietzsche, i n Jean-Paul Sartre, and i n Einstein, to name b u t a few.)

Hegel's “argument,” in other words, is but a condensation of Fichte’s picture of self against not-self, which is t o be practically understood n o t so much i n terms o f knowledge as feeling and desire. I t is feeling

and desire that together make u p life. What Fichte and Hegel call “life,” however, is unity o f the self a n d not-self; i t is a process (171), a

“universal fluid medium” (ibid.) which divides itself u p and takes on separate “moments” (ibid.). I t is here that we get Hegel’s outrageous set of leaps from this Fichtean point t o his odd thesis that what we desire is necessarily also a “living thing” t o his all-important conclusion that; “self-consciousness achieves its satisfaction only i n another

self-consciousness” (175). I have tried t o make some sense o f this set o f transitions i n t h e preceding chapter. L e t m e n o w try to make some

good sense o u t of the conclusion.

The Origins o f Self-Consciousness Self-consciousness exists in and for itself when, and by the fact that, it so exists for another; that is, i t exists only by being acknowledged. (178) 36. Fichte, Wiss. p . 262; H e g e l , P G 169 f.

436

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

I f one begins with the traditional view o f the self as a particular, “self-

existent” and autonomous monad, which knows itself immediately and the world only “mediately,” this set of transitions is absurd. The appearance of “another self-consciousness” i n particular seems sudden and arbitrary. I n fact, Hegel himself confuses the issue i n his terminology, since he is perhaps too quick t o use the t e r m “self-consciousness” w h e n it is n o t at all clear that there is as yet any such t h i n g . A t the beginning o f “Self-Certainty,” we have a concept o f self n o t m u c h

more advanced than the conception o f self i n “Sense-Certainty”; i t is

less particular and less defined in t e r m s of knowledge, but it is still the “immediately given”. B u t like the “this” o f “Sense-Certainty,” the “ I ” o f “Self-Certainty” is quickly reduced t o a n empty gesture, a philosophical grunt, a “motionless tautology.” T o say this, again as Hegel

said of the objects of “Sense-Certainty,” 1s t o say that the “ I ” is really nothing a t all. I t is a process which has yet t o be initiated, a n d the

question that defines the whole of this chapter is just this: how does the concept of self-consciousness ever arise? This i n essence challenges what Fichte (and everyone before him) simply took for granted, the existence o f consciousness as self-consciousness. Monads, the cogito, a n d Fichte’s “self as everything” thesis just seem to beg the question, a n d

begin where, a t most, they ought t o end. The Phenomenology, from beginning t o end, is a conceptual interplay of what Hegel calls “forms of consciousness.” I t is important t o remind ourselves of this, especially here, where the t e x t so readily lends itself t o interpretation as a historical or a psychological progression, i n which case it becomes almost unintelligible. O n e can, o f course,

ask why a c r e a t u r e should advance from mere desire

to

desire for

recognition, b u t this empirical question is none o f Hegel's concern

and, in any case, i t 1s probably unanswerable. Kojéve, notably, treats this part o f the Phenomenology as a historical-social progression, but this is a mistake even i f one interprets the Master-Slave parable (as I intend to) as Hegel's version o f the “state o f nature” allegory pre-

sented by Rousseau and Hobbes, among others. Indeed, in a long and i m p o s s i b l y o b s c u r e e x c u r s i s i n h i s “ N a t u r a l L a w ” essay a f e w years

betore, Hegel goes on and on against any such “empirical” interpretation of the origins of civil society.3” This is a conceptual progression, t o be understood i n t e r m s of t h e adequacy of forms, n o t the circumstantial emergence of humanity i n history. Clark Butler advances an interesting interpretation of the Phenomenology as a Freudian devel37. Natural Law, trans. T M . Knox (Philadelphia: U n i v . o f Pennsylvania Press, 1975),

pp. 64-76.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

437

opment from narcissistic infancy (“desire”), devoid o f recognition of other people and aware o f only one’s own needs, t o the first glimmer of others (Mother), and then the trauma of Oedipus (Master and Slave) a n d various defense mechanisms (Stoicism, Skepticism, a n d “ U n -

happy Consciousness”) leading u p

to

adolescence.’*® But though He-

gel certainly thinks that the actual o r d e r o f things will m o r e o r less

follow the progression of forms he is tracing, the Phenomenology 1s by no means concerned with childhood or human development i n general. What concerns Hegel here are the conceptual preconditions and presuppositions of self-consciousness. The notion that self-consciousness has preconditions or presuppositions a t all, o f course, is j u s t what Descartes, Fichte, a n d the others

deny. Even for Kant, who makes some effort t o “deduce” the t r a n scendental ego, the precondition for self-consciousness seems t o be only the existence o f experience as such, n o t experience o f any particular kind a n d , i n particular, n o t interpersonal experience. T h u s even Hegel's question is a rejection o f the tradition, a n d his answer to it is

so radical that even he has some trouble expressing it. Thus he speaks o f self-consciousness coming “out o f itself” (179), as if it were somehow “ i n itself” t o begin with. The language here is Fichtean, but the result 1s confusion: there 1s n o self, a n d n o self-consciousness, before

it comes “ o u t o f itself.” O r as Sartre puts the same argument i n his Transcendence o f the Ego®®, the self is “ o u t there, i n the world, like the self o f another.” T h e argument is that there can be n o (phenomeno-

logical) theory of consciousness which is n o t also a theory o f self-consciousness. (This much is virtually a conceptual truth,-“I c a n n o t talk about my consciousness unless I am also conscious o f my being consclous.”) Less trivially, there can be no description o f self-consciousness which is n o t a t the same time a discussion o f one’s relations with

other people. J.N. Findlay, i n his interpretation o f this section, provides the argument that a second self-consciousness is necessary as a “ m i r r o r ” for the first, a position which I v a n Soll rejects (unfairly, I think) as “infi-

nitely obscure.”#® But if anything, Findlay’s imagery is n o t radical enough, for one can quite properly ask what there 1s that can be reflected in the mirror t o begin with. A dog or a c a t can look ın a mirror with complete indifference; they d o n o t see themselves at all. O r m o r e 3 8 . I n Philosophy & Phenomenological Research, v o l . 3 6 ( J u n e 1976), e s p . 5 0 7 - 1 4 . T h e c o m p a r i s o n w i t h F r e u d i s n o t i n t e n d e d as a n i n t e r p r e t a t i o n as s u c h , w h i c h B u t l e r h a s

provided

at

length i n his very sympathetic Hegel.

3 9 . T r a n s l a t e d b y F o r r e s t Williams ( N e w Y o r k : N o o n d a y Press, 1 9 5 7 ) , p . 31.

40. Findlay, p. 94: Soll, p. 16.

438

Hatching the Highway of Despair

philosophically, we might recall the dilemma o f Sartre’s character Estelle in Hell, in the play No Exit (Huis Clos); (ESTELLE is powdering her face. She looks aroundfor a mirror, fumbles in her bag, then turns toward GARCIN) ESTELLE

Pardon, sir, have you a m i r r o r ? (GARCIN does not answer)

Any s o r t o f glass, a pocket mirror will do. (GARCIN remains silent) Even i f you won’t speak t o me, you might lend me a mirror. (Hts head buried in his hands, G A R C I N remains silent) I N E Z (Eagerly) Don’t worry. I've a mirror i n my bag. (She opens her bag, looks annoyed) It’s gone! They m u s t have taken i t a t the entrance. ESTELLE How tiresome! (ESTELLE shuts her eyes and sways, as if about to faint. ward and holds her up) INEZ

INEZ

runs for-

What's the matter?

(Opens her eyes and smiles) 1 feel so queer. (She pats herself) Don’t you ever feel that way too? When I can’t see myself I begin t o wonder i f I really exist. I pat myself just t o make sure, but it doesn’t help.*!

ESTELLE

The mirror imagery in Findlay’s suggestion seems backward; it is n o t that we need another person as the m i r r o r for self-consciousness,

but rather that the mirror is derivative o f self-consciously being looked at b y others, or, in grandmotherly phrase, “seeing yourself as others

see you.” Hegel does n o t say that we (as self-conscious) w a n t t o be recognized; h e says that we cannot be self-conscious unless we are recognized. T h e argument here has been further worked o u t in this cen-

tury, by Martin Heidegger i n Being and Time and by Wittgenstein and more recently P.F. Strawson in Individuals, by George Herbert Mead and some latter-day pragmatists i n America. Strawson puts the argument most succinctly when h e insists that we can ascribe certain predicates (“P- o r “person-Predicates”) to oneself only i f one is also

prepared t o apply them t o others as well.*? Taken o u t of the linguistic i d i o m , the argument is that one cannot be self-conscious o f oneself as a person unless one also recognizes the personal existence o f others.

Self-consciousness, i n other words, presupposes consciousness o f others as others, n o t just as things, as limitations o f myself. “ T h e world is m y oyster” only once I have come o u t o f m y o w n shell, and i t is

only when other people begin t o take things away from me that I first get the conception “this is mine.” This, o f course, is precisely Fichte’s

thesis t o o , except that, for him, self-consciousness is already presup41. From N o Exit and Three Other Plays, trans. S. Gilbert (New York: Vintage, 1947). 42. Strawson, Individuals ( L o n d o n : M e t h u e n , 1953), ch. 3, “Persons.”

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

439

posed. Hegel, i n return, is arguing that there can be n o such self-

consciousness without the existence o f others already presupposed. You might say that these are opposite sides of the same coin; perhaps, b u t Hegel’s side was a side that had never been adequately argued

before. The argument that self-consciousness presupposes recognition o f and by other people is i n fact two arguments. T h e first is a n argument to the effect that one cannot have self-consciousness at all ( i n the sense

that a dog or c a t lacks self-consciousness, for example) without the “mediation” o f other people. Then there 1s the argument that one cannot have a particular self-consciousness—that 1s, self-consciousness o f oneself as a particular person, without other people. The first sense of self-consciousness is the indeterminate Fichtean sense of the Wissenschaftlehre; i t 1s dealt with in the last few pages of the section on “self-certainty” (175-77). T h e second sense o f self-consciousness 1s

also Fichtean, b u t i t is an ethical sense o f self, a sense o f one’s rights and status; it 1s the heart o f the Master-slave conflict, through which it is determined. T h e general sense o f self-consciousness is not, contra Descartes and Fichte, a n immediate “intuition.” I t emerges from struggle with the w o r l d , b u t n o t , as in Fichte, with the “non-self.” There is a sense,

perhaps, in which my dog becomes “self-conscious” when he is threatened by a larger dog o r dragged t o the veterinarian, but this is something less than the “absolute” and “unconditioned” metaphysical insight announced by the philosophers. Indeed, the more one thinks about this general sense o f self-recognition, the more mysterious i t becomes, either a n unwarranted hypostatization o f some o d d entity

from the mere facts of syntax and self-reference (the trend i n modern “analytic” interpretations o f the Cogito)** or else, in Nietzsche's phrase, “it becomes remarkable only when we begin t o realize how dispensable it 15”:%* . we c o u l d i n fact think, feel, w i l l a n d recollect, we could likewise “act” i n every sense o f t h e t e r m , a n d nevertheless nothing o f i t all

need necessarily “come into consciousness” (as one says metaphorically). The whole o f life would be possible without its seeing itself as it were i n a mirror; as i n fact the greater part o f our life still goes on w i t h o u t this m i r r o r i n g — a n d even o u r thinking, feeling, volitional

4 3 . E . g . , J a a k k o H i n t i k k a , “Cogito E r g o S u m : I n f e r e n c e o r Performative,” Philosoph-

ical Review 1964. 44. Nietzsche, Gay Science, trans. b y Walter K a u f m a n n ( N e w York: R a n d o m House,

197) “ T h e Genius o f the Species”.

440

Hitching the Highway ofDespair life, as well, however painful this philosopher.

statement

may sound

to

an older

What then is the purpose o f consciousness generally, when i t is so ?*® superfluous

Now i t may be that Hegel pays too little attention t o the role o f language in primal self-consciousness (but, as we have elsewhere pointed out, the appreciation for the deep significance o f language is a more modern development, in only the crudest form in Rousseau and Herder and Hegel). And i t may be that Hegel, for whom Spirit 1s the ultimate goal of philosophy, would n o t have been willing even t o consider Nietzsche's easy dismissal o f the whole o f consciousness (in fact, self-consciousness) as a community convenience (which Nietzsche ultimately attributes t o “the interest of the herd,” and “the most fatal stupidity b y which we shall one day be r u i n e d . ” ) * B u t at least Hegel sees what Fichte does not—that there 1s something extremely peculiar

about the “immediate intuition o f self” that had been the c o r n e r s t o n e of philosophy since Descartes. Although he is painfully brief on the connection between self-consciousness and the recognition o f other people, he a t least is clear that this 1s the connection that is essential. The concept o f self-consciousness, Hegel tells us, is “completed i n three moments”: (a) the p u r e undifferentiated “ I , ” [which is “immediate”].

(b) The satisfaction o f Desire [or “mediation”]. (c) a double reflection, the duplication o f self-consciousness. (176) T h e t h i r d is said t o be the “ t r u t h ” o f the first two, which one can read as the claim that, i n fact, i t 1s their necessary condition. T h e Cogito 1s

an o u t c o m e , n o t a premise, and what Hegel 1s trying t o do 1s t o fill i n the missing steps (refusing t o p u t Descartes before the source, so to

speak). This general consciousness, which 1s ultimately Spirit, presupposes for its recognition the sense o f ourselves as individuals—*“this

absolute substance which is the unity of the different independent self-consciousness which, in their opposition, enjoy perfect freedom a n d independence” (177). I n other words, the general sense o f self-

consciousness depends upon a prior sense of individual self-consciousness, which ın t u r n depends upon our interaction with other people. I n what has come before we have repeatedly emphasized that every form i n the Phenomenology implies, in some sense, a n ontology, a claim 45. Ibid. 46. Ibid.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, a n d Freedom

441

about what is real. I n the first three chapters, what are real are objects, though what makes them real is a matter o f some dispute. B u t now, we

enter a world which 1s, Hegel would argue, much more accurate as a representation o f o u r own. T h e world (as Sartre said o f Hell) is other people. Philosophers have long taken i t as too obvious that reality ultimately consists o f maternal entities, some of which take on the peculiar form o f human beings. (Strawson argues this, for example, i n Individuals.) B u t i f we accurately characterize o u r world, o u r sense o f

reality, without the prejudices o f science and the philosophers, 1t 1s clear that what has m o s t meaning, what occupies by far the lions share o f our time and energy, are other people and our interactions with them. We deal with things mainly indirectly, by reference t o others. A car 1s not, first of all, a material object; i t is a status symbol, a piece o f private property which I (and n o t others) may drive; it 1s a convenient way t o visit friends and relatives, get t o work, and so on. Reality is

interpersonal reality, n o t Thales’ w a t e r or Pythagoras’ numbers or Plato’s Forms o r atoms, electrons o r electromagnetic fields. I t was Socrates’ conversations, n o t what they were about, that constituted his

reality. With this reading o f Hegel, our view o f reality turns around once and for all, away from mere knowledge and back t o ourselves— collectively. Nature 1s, like other people, a mirror of ourselves, the stage o f our interpersonal world. We are n o t yet t o the heart o f the argument—and we have n o t

begun t o e n t e r into the Master-Slave parable. Master and Slave is one (particularly dramatic) illustration of the formation of individual selfconsciousness, b u t i t 1s n o t the o n l y one, a n d , m o r e generally, we have t o first understand the sense in which mutual recognition and the demand for recognition is the precondition o f self-consciousness. Hegel never tells us—nor am I sure what he would say—how it is that the demand for recognition emerges in the first place. Rousseau had a theory according t o which we were all “by nature” indifferent t o

one another, t h o u g h also compassionate w h e n need be.*” B u t i t is n o t

clear in Rousseau either, why we should have ever dropped that attitude o f indifference and compassion, except that he is very clear that i t is modern society (not society i n general) which has “corrupted” us. Hobbes suggested that our “original” position vis-a-vis one another was selfishness and the threat o f homicide, but he t o o seemed t o pre4 7 . R o u s s e a u ’ s argument i s i n h i s s e c o n d Discourse O n the Origins o f Inequality, ( N e w Y o r k : D u t t o n , 1 9 7 6 ) , t h o u g h this i s n o t t h e o n l y c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n t o b e f o u n d t h e r e . F o r

a good discussion, see A r t h u r Lovejoy, “ T h e Supposed Primitivism o f Rousseau’s Disc o u r s e o n Inequality,”

i n h i s Essays i n the History o f Ideas (Baltimore: J o h n s H o p k i n s

Univ. Press, 1948), p p . 1 4 - 3 7 .

442

Hitching the Highway o f Despair

sume that self-consciousness itself was n o t i n need o f explanation. So too Fichte, i n his ethical w o r k s , takes individual self-consciousness as more o r less a n already established matter (the self-differentiation

of the ego) and n o t i n need o f

account.

I n this tradition, Hegel may

be forgiven for n o t postulating a mechanism for the concept o f self i n its f o r m a t i o n ; a t least h e 1s clear, as o t h e r s a r e not, that the general context

for formation o f self is conflict and opposition.

T h e phenomenological argument for the acquisition o f a particular

consciousness of self, and thus a particular self, is central t o Jean-Paul Sartre’s life-long philosophical project, though he too seems too easily to suppose that there is some primitive self-consciousness (which h e

obscurely calls “prereflective cogito”) that precedes definition. I n his later work, St Genet: Actor and Martyr, Sartre has young Genet accused o f being a thief b y his elders, a n d thus accused, that is what h e becomes; that is what h e makes himself.*® T h e r e is n o “indifference” be-

tween us, for Hegel; we create each other. A person is neither ugly nor beautiful; i t is the opinions of others that make him or her so. A person is n o t intelligent o r stupid, except b y comparison with and in

the eyes o f others. A person is n o t courageous, or generous, or shy, or tall, or fat, except i n the c o n t e x t o f other people, and what they say t o us. (How l o n g can I think myself brilliant when m y friends all call me “dumb?”) “The dizzying word” uttered t o young Jean Genet was “ t h i e f ” ; for some o f us i t is “fat” o r “ s t u p i d ” o r “clumsy” o r “inferior” o r “sick,” a n d that 1s indeed what we become. O r as Sartre puts

i t elsewhere, “ I am. . . as I appear t o the Other.”3°

O f course, this is only half of the story; the other half is that I am, in Sartre’s Hegelian terms, “for myself,” though this is something I also acquire, n o t simply a “given” i n consciousness. A t some point, i n certain societies, I can also learn to reject the ascriptions o f others,

rebel against them, and therein lies the existential tension in which human relations develop. A young woman thinks o f herself as “mat u r e ” ; h e r m o t h e r treats h e r as a child. T h e bureaucrat treats the young m a n as a faceless number o na list; the young m a n resents this a n d makes a n obscene gesture to crudely assert his identity. H o w this concept o f individuality develops is, again, a question that Hegel treats o n l y briefly, later, i n the chapter o n “Reason.” B u t i t is important to note 48.

that, even i n these t w o homely examples, the assertion o f self is Das System der Sitlenlehre (1798), t r a n s . A E . K r o e g e r as System o f Ethics (London:

Triibner, 1897); a n d Grundlage des Naturrechts (1796), trans. A . E . K r o e g e r as The Science

of Ethics (London: Trübner, 1889). 49. Sartre, St. Genet: Actor and Martyr, t r a n s . B . Frechuman ( N e w York: Braziller,

1963). 5 0 . Being a n d Nothingness, P a r t 111, c h . 3 .

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

443

a reaction, n o t an “immediate intuition.” I t is a reaction against a concept o f self imposed b y others which, for reasons yet to be under-

stood, one finds unacceptable. Moreover, i t might make sense t o say

this point that the self is mainly a theory—or a s e t o f competing theories, which are borne o u t or refuted, confirmed or discouraged, only in practice. And “practice” m e a n s — n o t obedience t o the moral at

law, which is the paradigm for Kant a n d Fichte—but contact and con-

frontation with other people. What is the argument? Unfortunately, Hegel does n o t give u s one.

But then, there is precious little argument t o be found elsewhere either. The question “What would a person be like if he or she were raised from infancy without the company o f other people?” has been part (though the smaller part) of the “state of nature” mythology ever since Hobbes and Rousseau, a t least (though one could certainly trace it back t o the Medievals, and perhaps t o the early Greeks).>! T h e curr e n t assumption seems t o be that a person so deprived o f companion-

ship would hardly be “human” and self-conscious, ıf

at

all, in the sense

that a wild d o g 1s self-conscious, aware o f its body and its needs (which

1S n o t even t o say aware that it has certain needs.) I t is n o t clear how uncompromisingly Hegel would have accepted this modern assumption, b u t i t 1s clear that, standing o n Fichte’s shoulders, h e came m u c h

closer t o i t than almost any philosopher before him—and many after him. With Marx, he was one o f the first and m o s t powerful propon e n t s o f a view that still has too little respectability i n philosophy: that “ t r u t h ” 1s first o f all social truth, a n d that the self o f self-consciousness

1s n o t so much a logical oddity (as i n the cogito and its variations) as

an interpersonal construction—at which point philosophy suddenly takes a t u r n away from metaphysics and epistemology into the foreign territory o f social ontology.

Master a n d Slave: A Parable o f the Self i n Formation The activity (of the self) i n conjoining opposites, and the clash o f these opposites . . . are to b e united . . . T h a t the clash, as such, is

and must be conditional upon a conjoining, is easy enough t o see. The opposites, as such, are completely opposed; they have nothing whatever i n common; i f one is posited the other c a n n o t be: they clash only insofar as the boundary between them is posited, and this boundary is posited by the positing neither of the one nor o f the other; i t m u s t be posited o n its own—But the boundary is then nothing other than what is common t o both . . . They clash only i f 5 1 . R o b e r t N i s b e t , History o f the Idea ofProgress ( N e w Y o r k : B a s i c B o o k s , 1979).

444

Hiiching the Highway of Despair they are conjoined. . . . Both are therefore one and the same. —Fichte, Wissenschaftlehre

This opposition is the condition i n virtue o f which the Ego becomes practical: the Ego m u s t suspend its opposite. . . . one o f the opposites m u s t become dependent o n the other. . . . For any rational being (Vernunftwesen) must make unto itself a sphere for its freedom; i t ascribes this sphere t o itself. But i t is only by antithesis that i t is itself this sphere; the sphere is constituted only insofar as the rational being posits itself exclusively i n it, so that no o t h e r p e r s o n c a n have a n y choice w i t h i n i t . —Hegel, Differenz-essay

(on Fichte)

I t m u s t supersede this otherness of itself. This is the supersession [Aufhebem] o f the first ambiguity [“it has lost itself, and finds itself i n another being”], and is therefore itself a second ambiguity [“in the o t h e r sees its o w n self.”] First, i t m u s t proceed to supersede the other

independent being i n order thereby t o become certain of itself as the essential being; secondly, i n so doing i t proceeds t o supersede its own self, tor this other is itself. —Phenomenology (180)

The Master-Slave parable is a specific illustration of the reciprocal formation of t w o self-consciousnesses. There can be no m a s t e r witho u t a slave, n o slave without a master (though the two can co-exist i n a single person).”? There is n o dependency without someone to be

dependent upon, who thereby becomes relatively independent. A son may be financially dependent on his father, who is thereby presumably independent, but the father may i n t u r n be financially dependent on his boss, and emotionally dependent upon his son, who thereby is relatively independent emotionally. I t is a familiar interpersonal quandary; relationships often hold together because o f their asymmetry. Master-slave 1s b u t an extreme; domination and submission are common I n a great many interactions—on the basis o f who’s smarter, who's neater, w h o s m o r e mechanically inclined, who’s m o r e charm-

ing, who's more angry, whos more sexually demanding, who’s more insecure, and so on. (Sartre was n o t a t all o u t of the Hegelian line when he transferred the Master-Slave parable t o the arena o f sex and romantic love; but i t m u s t n o t therefore be thought that Hegel's parable is identical to Sartre’s brilliant i f somewhat morbid use o f it.) M u t u a l definition takes other forms as well; love redefines selfhood

i n a way t h a t need have nothing t o do with power and asymmetrical dependency-independency, but can still be asymmetrical (for example, one person is sensual, the other m o r e abstract; one can be 52. Differenz-essay, p . 149, o n Fichte’s “ N a t u r a l L a w ” essay, a n d i n “ U n h a p p y C o n sciousness,” i n t h e P G , 206ft.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

445

“soft,” the o t h e r “ h a r d ” ) . Hatred can define mutual selfhood; so too

can membership o n a team (where each player has a different role or position); dancing together briefly defines a certain physical selfhood, which need n o t have anything t o do with dependency-independence. B u t i n “the state o f nature”—as well as i n most middle-class relation-

ships—dependency and independence tend t o be primary self-defining categories. I n that imaginary situation before the advent of society—even before the u n i t y o f families a n d tribes—dependency and independence h a d to turn o n a single factor (since financial and emo-

tional dependency as such had n o t become possible), and that factor is—life and death itself. The Master-Slave parable 1s a life-and-death struggle. I n more modern circumstances, death might be more symbolic, for instance, n o t inviting a n antagonist to y o u r next d i n n e r p a r t y ; b u t i n the state o f n a t u r e , there is nothing else to fight for, nothing else a t stake, n o property, n o status, n o possibilities for promotion. There is only that

vaguely defined “sphere o f freedom” that Fichte and Hegel (in the Differenz-essay, n o t in the Phenomenology) talk about. Indeed, one might argue that the life-or-death clash is always implicit i n every confrontation—and often surfaces in a t least ritualized form i n philosophy debates (“demolished his argument,” “murder him in debate,” “criticisms right o n target”) and, o f course, i n sports and politics.>® Almost always—except i n some absurdist theater—no one dies, except, perhaps, i n mortification (the etymology o f the word 1s significant) or ostracism. B u t i n the Master-Slave parable too, n o one dies. ( I f one d i d , the parable would simply be over.) T h e fight to the death is a

device; i t 1s also, o f course, the key ingredient in the Hobbesian—and Fichtean—*"state o f nature” mythologies. I t is the extreme, the “absolute negation.” I t is the l i m i t o f life. B u t is i t , therefore, the limit o f

self? Hegel says “no.” The limit of self is rather the notion o f dependency. Hegel 1s n o t a t all clear about the relationship o f general self-consciousness to specific self-consciousness. I t sometimes seems as if the general self-consciousness is already formed at the outset o f the master-slave confrontation, which is concerned with the determination o f the specific sense o f self. B u t a good case could also be made for the

argument that Hegel first establishes specific self-consciousness through the original meeting and then introduces the formation o f the general sense o f self-consciousness through the life-and-death struggle. I n any case, that specific self, i f n o t also the more general sense o f 5 3 . See, e . g . , “ C o n c e p t u a l M e t a p h o r i n E v e r y d a y L a n g u a g e , ” b y G e o r g e Lakoff a n d M a r k Johnson, Journal of Philosophy, vol. 76, no. 8 (Aug. 1980), esp. p . 454 f.

446

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

self as sheer self-conscious existence, is defined i n the “state o f na-

ture’—before the origins o f social bonds—by independence, by selfconsciousness itself, that pre-reflective Fichtean sense that one 1s

everything, that the world is one’s own. This sense o f omnipotence is destroyed by the intrusion o f another person. Consider yourself alone i n the mountains, feeling so “at one” with the miraculous landscape laid o u t before you, as i f i t were for

your eyes alone. Suddenly, another climber appears, and the whole phenomenology changes, from your experience o f “oneness” t o an interpersonal confrontation—even if i t is limited t o such banalities as “ H i , h o w are you?” That sense o f presence is lost, a n d we can well

understand Sartre’s somewhat grotesque image o f “my world going down the sinkhole o f the other’s consciousness.”?* O f course, this brief scenario does n o t yet in any way make m e dependent u p o n the other

person, but I have already lost that sense of independence, that sense o f myself as everything, and it is this loss with which the Master-Slave parable begins. As Fichte said, “ I must be something for myself and by myself alone”; other people are always—as “other”—a limitation on my self. The Master-Slave parable itself falls into t w o parts: the first is the battle for mutual recognition, i n which each person tries t o regain— through the other—the lost sense o f independence (178-89). This p a r t o f the parable culminates i n the “life and death struggle” a n d

the victory o f one over the other, tentatively establishing the winner as independent master, the loser as dependent slave. T h e second part

o f the parable (190-96) is the turn-about in which the

master

be-

comes dependent o n the slave and the slave independent o f the master.

Independence and dependence can be defined in a slightly differe n t way (one which plays a primary role i n Sartre’s use o f the parable): independence is being “self-existent,” and subject; dependence is being defined by criteria not one’s own, as a n object. To appreciate the

power o f this tension between seeing oneself as one wishes and being forced (whether by circumstances or other people or—usually—both), it is important t o remember the force o f the Kantian dualism between self as subject and as “freedom” and self as “an object o f nature.” I n his own practical philosophy, Kant insisted, 54. T h a t metaphor is from Being and Nothingness, Part I I I , b u t cf. Estelle’s u n h a p p y

comment i n No Exit: Suppose I be your looking-glass?. . . A m I n o t better than your mirror?

INEZ

ESTELLE

I don’t quite know. You scare me. M y reflection i n mirrors never d i d that. I was used to it,

like something I had tamed. I knew it so well. I ' m going t o smile and my smile will sink down inio your pupils, a n d heaven k n o w s w h a t w i l l become o f it.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

447

A c t i n such a way t h a t y o u always treat humanity, whether i n y o u r

own person or any other, never simply as a means, but always a t the same t i m e as a n end.®

Fichte, following Kant, saw treating someone else as an object—or worse still, treating yourself as an object of nature—as horrendous, a n act o f immorality i n the first instance, extreme cowardice i n the

second.>® Schelling and Hegel shared this horror of treating humanity as object and means rather than as free subjects and as ends, and for them, the distinction was o f enormous importance, even i f (as i n

Hegel) i t can eventually be resolved. Thus understood, the MasterSlave parable involves each person’s insistence that he or she be recognized by the other as a free and independent being, which, paradoxically, results i n the limitation and dependency o f each o n the other. B u t this insistence, and the consequent paradox, is essential to Fichte’s

System of Ethics (Sittenlehre) and his theory o f Natural Rights as well. Indeed, he saw an irresolvable tension between individual “self-identity” and the agreement t o respect each other as such, and this tension was reflected in an equally irresolvable conflict between morality (which presupposed an absolutely free and independent self) and the state, which, through threat o f punishment, treated the self as an object of n a t u r e . I t is this that Hegel thoroughly rejects i n Fichte, the same contradiction that he (somewhat confusingly) introduced in the “inverted world” i n the chapter on “Force and the Understanding” (158— 59). I t 1s also the reason why, i n the whole o f the Phenomenology, h e

rejects the notion that the individual self 1s i n any way “independent” or, for that matter, free and self-sufhcient. T h e first step i n this long argument is to reject the classical “state o f nature” mythology—the

mythology o f already independent beings who sacrifice their independence i n confrontation and then are forced t o increasingly desperate (conceptual) efforts to regain the independence they believe

themselves t o have lost. The key t o the Master-Slave parable 1s the mutual recognition that self (or specific self-consciousness) is dependent o n others in a complex reaprocal interaction, i n what R.D. Laing appropnately calls “knots”: “ I see you, you see me, I see you seeing me, I see you seeing m e see you see me. . . .” Hegel says just this i n his first paragraphs, i n

his usual less than attractive manner: 181. This ambiguous supersession o f its ambiguous otherness is equally a n ambiguous r e t u r n nto itself. F o r first, t h r o u g h the super-

55.

K a n t , Foundations

56. Wiss. I n t r o d u c t i o n

of the Metaphysics and

Part III.

o f Morals,

p. 66.

448

Hitching the Highway ofDespair session, i t receives back its own self, because, by superseding us otherness, i t again becomes equal to itself; b u t secondly, the other self-

consciousness equally gives i t back again t o itself, for i t saw itself i n the other, but supersedes this being o f itself i n the other and thus lets the other again go free. 182. Now, this movement o f self-consciousness i n relation to an-

other self-consciousness has i n this way been represented as the action o f one self-consciousness, b u t this action o f t h e one has itself the

double significance o f being both its own action and the action o f the other as well. For the other is equally independent and self-contained, and there is nothing in ı t o f which it is n o t itself the origin. The first does n o t have the object before i t merely as i t exists primarily for desire, but as something t h a t has an independent existence o f its o w n , which, therefore, i t cannot utilize for its o w n purposes, i f that

object does not of its own accord do what the first does t o it. Thus the movement is simply the double m o v e m e n t o f the t w o selfconsciousnesses. Each sees the other do the same as i t does; each does itself what i t demands o f the other, a n d therefore also does what it

does only i n so far as the other does the same. Action by one side only would be useless because what is t o happen can only be brought about by both. 183. Thus the action has a double significance n o t only because i t is directed against itself as well as against the other, but also because it is indivisibly the action of one as well as o f the other.

Hegel’s play on “double significance” here might be taken in an exponential fashion, i n that each m o m e n t o f awareness is reflected back a n d reflected again, and, as i n two mirrors facing one another, the

number of reflections multiplies rapidly. Consider a pair o f lovers—or a husband and wife, or t w o very close friends. Each sees his or her identity as defined by the other (at least t o a significant degree). Each w a n t s the other’s approval. We would like to think, o f course, that there is n o problem o r tension here; as

i n the more general “social contract,” each simply agrees t o give approval freely i n r e t u r n for receiving i t as well. B u t life is n o t so simple,

and i t 1s the Fichtean paradox that shows us why this is so. Each person w o u l d like to be certain o f the approval o f the other, b u t to be certain o f the other is already t o lose that sense o f the other as a n

independent judge. I

want

you

to

say “ I love you,” but the last thing

I would want t o d o is to ask you, m u c h less force you, t o say i t . I w a n t y o u t o say i t freely, a n d n o t because I want y o u to o r expect you to. B u t then, you know that I d o want you t o say i t , and I know that you

know that I w a n t you t o say it. So you say it; I don’t really believe you. Did you say it because you mean it? O r i n order n o t t o h u r t my feelings? A n d so I get testy, m o r e demanding, to w h i c h y o u r response is,

quite reasonably, t o become angry o r defensive, until finally I provoke

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

449

precisely what I feared all along,—an outburst o f abuse. But then, I feel righteously hurt; you get apologetic. You seek forgiveness; I hesitate. You aren’t sure whether I will say it o r n o t : I ' m n o t sure whether

you mean i t or n o t , but I say, “ I forgive you.” You wonder whether I ' m really forgiving you or just trying t o keep from hurting your feelings, a n d so you become anxious, testy, and so o n a n d so o n . I t hap-

pens a million times a day, i n varying degrees of pathology and emotional violence. I t is n o t the enlightened reciprocity imagined by many philosophers. So i t is that our selves get defined, from the earliest confrontations with our parents and siblings t o our cocktail party gamesmanship and professional “ethics.” By no means must this process by either antagonistic or unpleasant, for everything we have just discussed might just as well take place through love and c o n s t a n t approval—which Freud and Sartre rightly saw as just as manipulative as threats and disapproval. I f one believes that the self is initially independent and wholly self-defining, then any such mutual process will appear t o be confrontational and manipulative. B u t then again, this is by no means the only way t o view the self, however much philosophical tradition there 1S tO support it. The self o f Rousseau i n the “state o f nature” is healthy, happy, and independent; society involves the limitation o f this independence, but i n r e t u r n for the possibility of virtue. Fichte, needless t o say, is more than inspired by this vision, even if he takes the e n t r a n c e into society as based as much o n antagonism and conflict as on Rousseau’s more optimistic vision o f a “general will.” Thus, Hegel says of Fichte, “Freedom m u s t be surrendered i n order t o make possible the freedom o f all rational beings living in community.” 37 But such freedom he says, m u s t be “merely negative” and it is this sense of “freedom from” others that Hegel proposes t o reject, here and i n the section t o follow. I n deed, i t 1s n o t the “liberation” o f the slave that Hegel intends t o show us—as if one thereby regains a n independence lost; it is t o the con-

trary the recognition that there is no “freedom” nor independence in the “state o f n a t u r e ” ; indeed the idea o f the “state o f nature” is n o t

only a historical fiction (to which all parties would readily agree), b u t it 18 a fraudulent fiction, which does not even make conceptual sense,

much less is it based on historical or anthropological fact. I n the parable itself, each person finds himself “ i n the o t h e r ” ; that

1s, a person 1s defined n o t by his opinions o f himself alone but by the opinions of others, and the reflection o f one’s own opinions by 5 7 . Differenz-essay, p . 1 4 4 .

Hitching the Highway ofDesparr

450

them, and so on. W h y then, the “fight t o the death”? Hegel says, “the

need

to

negate the other's otherness.” B u t Hegel's notion o f negation

does n o t necessarily mean death, as we have already pointed out.

Making the other “one’s own” is also a way o f “negating” the other. A

warlord need

not

kill his enemies; he can make them his slaves. A

powerful boss need n o t r u n the business by himself; h e can surround himself w i t h “yes-men.” N o t only that, insofar as one’s identity arises

and is defined only with other people, killing the others is self-defeating, for one loses precisely that source o f recognition that one has come t o require. Killing the other n o t only fails t o remove this acquired need; i t also deprives one o f the power t o possibly change the other's views in the future. Thus the pre-execution curse has always had such a momentous effect i n history and literature, regardless o f the impor-

o f the victim. What is essential 1s that it c a n n o t be undone. Hegel also says, and this part of the parable is n o t always appreciated, that only by staking one’s own life does one really become seltconscious. This risk o f life entails in t u r n the attempt t o kill the other tance

(187). O f course, one can risk one’s life and win the approval o f others

without trying t o kill anyone (for instance, in some death-defying feat o f courage), and it is n o t a t all clear, again, that “risking one’s life” has t o be taken literally. B u t the point 1s clear enough, and it is here, that the general sense o f self-consciousness can be argued t o arise. The point is proto-Heideggerian, one might say, though it is also i n Fichte and, before him, indisputably in Socrates and the Bible: “only by risking your life can you regain it.” Whatever the specific definition o f self, i t is only confrontation with death itself (so the argument goes) that forces us or allows us t o appreciate the meaning o f life as such. Thus it 1s that the general sense o f self-consciousness arises, and thus it is that the need for a “life-and-death” struggle emerges, not from the need t o “negate” the other so much as from the alleged and very romantic need t o risk one’s own life. Hegel does n o t always keep these t w o motives i n order, but, i n any case, the outcome is clear. B y limiting his “state o f nature” parable to the traditional confrontation o f two, isolated individuals, Hegel elimnates all extraneous considerations (social status and etiquette, for

example) and allows his characters t o indeed fight they don’t;

to

the death. B u t

This trial by death . . . does away with the truth which was supposed t o issue from it, and so too with the certainty o f self generally.. . . death is the natural negation of consciousness, negation without independence, which thus remains without the required significance of recognition. (188)

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

451

H e r e too the p r i m a r y proof—to risk one’s o w n life—comes to the

fore. I f one does die, that shows that he certainly did risk his life; but, i f h e doesn’t, the struggle

ıs n o t yet a p r o o f . O n e needs the other to

keep alive the recognition of the struggle, and so, death 1s n o t the goal o f the struggle after all, but rather, the goal is the struggle itself, the “clash” o f Fichtes works; this is the “truth” of self-certainty. A lively debate has gone on in the literature—whether the slave does n o t die because he would rather be a slave than dead,*® or whether he lives because the m a s t e r “prefers a s e r v a n t t o a corpse.” The text supports neither view in any detail, b u t provides some evidence for

both. The question is n o t the dynamics o f mercy and survival b u t the essential n a t u r e o f selthood and its relationship t o other people and the prospect o f one’s o w n death. These two points, whatever the details, are suthaently clear: (1) there is n o selthood without the contin-

ued recognition of others (though the continuation may carry on i n one’s o w n consclousness); a n d (2) selthood may sometime seem m o r e

important than life, since one is willing

to

risk one’s life for the sake

o f self-consciousness. I n o t h e r words, contra Hobbes a n d Fichte ( i f n o t Rousseau) the threat t o one’s life is n o t the limit o f one’s independence, since, at least i n a “negative” sense, one can prove one’s inde-

pendence o f the other by risking ones life. Life isn’t everything: for self-consciousness, selfhood is. The second part o f the parable contains the twist which has t r a n s figured m u c h o f recent history as well as philosophy; it is the inversion o f master a n d slave; the master becomes dependent o n the slave; the slave becomes independent o f the master. M a r x , o f course, trans-

formed the inversion parable into a prognosis about the whole o f civilized history and the eventual but “inevitable” victory o f the servant classes. Hegel, however, is concerned a t this point with still 1solated individuals, w h o need be i n n o sense “civilized” and, i n any case, are n o t yet concerned with the “surplus value” o f their efforts a n d

their ability t o invest it for further gain. The imagery here is rather that o f a feudal lord, growing fat and lazy on the sweat of his s e r v a n t (probably servants, b u t let's leave it a t one). Hegel’s liberal attitudes

toward serfdom and feudal divisions o f power were uncompromisi n g , b u t so too were the attitudes o f virtually all o f his friends a n d

colleagues a t the time, m o s t o f whom were far more radical i n their liberalism than he. H e looked a t the lord and m a s t e r with undisguised repulsion, b u t he saw the slave with something less than sympathy t o o . Indeed, i f we w a n t a good c o n c r e t e portrait of the m a s t e r 58. Kaufmann, p. 153; Royce, p. 177. 59. Soll, p . 20.

452

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

and the slave i n Hegel's parable we might well go back t o his early essay on “the positivity o f Christianity” o f 1795, in which his characterization o f the “slave mentality” o f the early Christians is almost matched i n sarcasm by his comments about the decadence o f later Rome, a n d b o t h i n contrast with his shining commentary o n the an-

cient Greeks. (“The Greeks and Romans, who by this time [3rd t o 5th centuries, A . D . ] were overcivilized, servile, a n d plunged i n a cesspool o f vice.”9)

Perhaps the modern word which best fits the master 1s “jaded,” since the fruits o f life come t o him effortlessly, with instant satisfaction, which leads him therefore to a continuous search for new satisfactions, a n d ever m o r e extravagant desires. I t is at this point that He-

gel’s t o o brief Faustian discussion of desire earlier i n chapter 4 becomes essential t o the argument; it 1s this: Satisfaction ultimately doesn’t

satisfy. Desire seeks n o t t o be satishied but t o be prolonged. This too, is pure Fichte, for i n the final sections o f his Wissenschaftlehre he goes o n at great length about the importance o f “longing,” a n d i n this, we

may suppose, Hegel, also a romantic of sorts (despite his criticisms o f Romanticism), would well agree. What is wrong with the feudal master and his late Greek and Roman counterparts is that they have ceased the struggle, iost the virtues and restraints that made the ancient Greeks so admirable, and sunk themselves in “a cesspool o f vice.” They have lost the ability t o satisfy themselves, ironically, because they are so easily satished. What is more, they have increasingly lost their sense o f j u s t that which makes t h e m “masters,” namely, their independence;

they have become materially dependent upon the slaves, and Hegel is enough o f a materialist (contra Feuerbach’s and Marx’s opinion o f him) t o believe that, where there is material dependency, phenome-

nological dependency cannot be far behind. What also emerges i n this parable, as the other side o f Hegel’s disgust with the j a d e d desires a n d instant satisfactions o f the master, 1s the glorification o f work as the answer to this—the o l d Protestant ethic

about “busy hands” and virtue. I n fact, as Marx rudely but correctly pointed out, “the only labor Hegel knew was the a b s t r a c t labors o f the m i n d . ”®!B u t what he extols here in the Phenomenology is clearly physical work, the shaping and creating o f things. Part of the thesis is pure Schelling, that a r t (creativity) is “the synthesis o f the subjective and the objective,” the imposition o f one’s desires a n d conscious intentions 60. Hegel, “ T h e Positivity o f the Christian Religion,” t r a n s . T.M. Knox i n Early Theo. Mss., p . 1 6 8 . Cf. a l s o H e g e l ’ s r a t h e r inhuman comments a b o u t t h e p e a s a n t class i n his Jena lectures (see Chapter 9 , sect. 2 d).

61. Alfred Sohm-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labor. (Atlantic Highlands, N_].: Humanities Press, 1978).

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom onto

453

material n a t u r e , t h u s re-forming i t as o u r o w n , a n d n o l o n g e r as

m e r e “nature.” T h e imposition o f ourselves o n nature—or “the clash

between freedom and nature”—plays a major role i n Fichte’s Wissenschaftlehre a n d even m o r e so in Schelling’s System o f Transcendental Idealism. B u t the w o r k ethic 1s b y n o means original with them, a n d one

has t o trace i t (at least) through the already established secular ethics o f Luther and Calvin. B u t the point for the parable is simply that work—the imposition o f free consciousness on physical nature—is the mark o f freedom and self-realization. ( I t is n o t unimportant that Hegel had been reading Adam Smith’s labor-theory of value—"only labor has intrinsic value”— only a few years before.) I t is because the master doesn’t work that he becomes jaded. Satis-

faction through work is continuous, culminating i n the enjoyment o f its fruits b u t b y n o means limited to this. B y not w o r k i n g , the master,

who imposes his will on “the thing” only by using i t and, where appropriate, eating it, becomes estranged or “alienated” from things by n o t working o n them. H e has n o sense o f the process o f food production; h e only eats. H e has n o sense o f crafts; h e only takes and uses.

And it is such sense o f production, Hegel insists, that goes into t r u e satisfaction. T h e slave, o n the other hand, does get this sense, o f turn-

ing an “independent” material thing (the language here is intentionally confusing) into a “dependent” thing t o be enjoyed by the m a s t e r (190). B u t the slave has his p r o b l e m s too, for even while getting the

satisfaction o f work, he does n o t get t o enjoy the fruits of his labors. H e may take pride in the wheat he has grown and sown, the bread he has made, but he will n o t enjoy its “dependent aspect” by eating it. T h i s is what M a r x later calls “alienated labor,”’%? and it 1s, i n part,

what makes the slave a slave. But i t is a mistake t o take these material inequities themselves as the problem o f “independence and dependence,” for what Hegel is concerned with is the n a t u r e o f selthood. This is n o t t o say that one’s material productions and enjoyments have nothing t o do with selfhood, but they are secondary t o what Hegel calls “recognition,” and they are significant only insofar as they signify patterns o f mutual

recognition. ( I f I buy bread from my baker, I do

not

thereby

turn

h i m into a slave, even if h e grew the wheat and baked the bread h i m -

self; and it does n o t m a t t e r whether I pay h i m o r not—that is, so far

as the master-slave question is concerned. What matters is the regard we have for each other, whether he feels that growing, baking, and 62. T h e first o f four forms o f alienation: “ A l i e n a t i o n from t h e P r o d u c t o f One's Activity,” i n “Alienated Labor,” i n Early Wnitings, ed. L . Coletti (London: Penguin, 1974), p . 429.

454

Hiitching the Highway ofDespair

giving me the bread is his decision, rather than mine.) The

master-

slave parable turns o n a shift i n the status o f their mutual recognition;

i t 1s the m a s t e r who m u s t come t o see himself as dependent, and the slave who m u s t come t o see himself, i n some sense, as independent o f t h e master. B u t this sense is not primarily his w o r k . I n d e e d , the problem is that the slave never gets to really see himself as indepen-

dent; he is only relatively independent o f his master, in that his mast e r 1s now dependent on him. But what he does come t o see 1s that, while h e has mastery over some things, h e still 1s n o t independent,

regardless o f his revised relationship with the m a s t e r . And 1t 1s this that drives both the slave and the m a s t e r t o ever-more desperate efforts t o regain what they see as their former independence, “the whole of objective being” (196).52 Hegel gives us three factors in the slave’s gradual recognition of his independence from the master—his fear, his service, and his work. By virtue o f his fear, the possibility o f his own death gives him a sense o f

general self-consciousness (this century proudly preserved as “authenticity”) which allows him t o realize, a t any moment, that freedom from the master (if only “negative freedom”) is his. H e need only kill himself, o r allow himself to be killed. H e does n o t d o this, o f course, b u t the fact that h e knows that h e can, the fact that h e knows that h e will die eventually anyway puts a distance between himself a n d his master, establishes a t least t h e flicker o f life itself as somehow his own,

and n o t entirely within the control of the master or “the fear of Death, the absolute Lord” (194). Similarly, the slave becomes aware that, I n service t o t h e master, h e i s e s t a b l i s h i n g h i s o w n identity, a n d , indeed,

is redefining the master in t e r m s o f his relationship

to

him. The ser-

v a n t becomes as important t o the m a s t e r as the master is to him and

thus (in the jargon o f “for itself”) he no longer exists simply for the master, b u t for himself, and the master, i n t u r n , exists in him (191—

93). Finally, there is the work relationship itself, between the slave and “the thing”, which is n o t enjoyed by the master; thus the slave comes t o recognize his mastery over at least some things, and so, as a master

i n this restricted sense, sees himself as n o longer wholly dependent. One could go o n a t length and extrapolate from this simple parable

some profound truths about work, human relationships, and who knows what else; b u t it is m y intention here only to try to capture 63. I f t h e r e i s unanimity a m o n g t h e c o m m e n t a t o r s o n o n e thing, i t i s t h a t t h e slave emerges i n d e p e n d e n t o f t h e master, w h o d r o p s o u t o f t h e p i c t u r e , while t h e slave moves o n i n t h e dialectic. J o h n Plamenatz, e.g., says, “ t h e future lies w i t h t h e slave.” M a n and Society, ( N e w York: 1963), vol. 2 , p . 155. This is simply w r o n g , a n d fails t o take account o f o n e o f t h e m o s t i m p o r t a n t f e a t u r e s o f t h e t e x t — t h a t t h e slave is n o t f r e e , a n d t h a t t h e master e n d s u p i n as w r e t c h e d s h a p e as his servant.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

455

what Hegel himself is immediately trying t o do, and he has done it: the master, who thought that he could regain his mythological independence by subjecting the slave t o his will and forcing him, under penalty o f death, t o recognize h ı m (the master) as master, now finds himself i n the awkward position o f being just as dependent upon his position i n life and those who surround him as his slave, whom he once considered merely as “his thing.” T h e slave, o n the other hand, realizes that h e is n o t necessarily a slave, after all, b u t has some measure o f independence t o o . I t is at this point that it becomes clear—as

Hegel argued explicitly and frequently in his early manuscripts—that independence and dependency are n o t necessarily t o be found only i n confrontation with the other. Once self-consciousness has found itself, i t then internalizes these categories within itself, so that even the master sees himself somewhat as a slave, and even the lowest and m o s t fearful slave comes t o recognize i n

himself some d e g r e e o f

mas-

tery, o r what Fichte called “ a n impulse to absolute independent self-

°* Both are thereby “unhappy” with what they find i n themactivity.” selves, and both are compelled t o rationalize their unhappiness, and find for themselves a solace o f imagined independence which i n fact they never knew, in the various philosophical escape fantasies of Stoicism, Skepticism, a n d primitive Christianity—the same unworldly,

miserable, oppressive, servile cult of consciousness that Hegel so rudely criticized i n his early manuscripts—which he now calls, “unhappy consciousness.”

Stoicism, Skepticism, and Unhappy Consciousness:

Freedom Through Fantasy For the independent self-consciousness, i t is only the pure abstract i o n o f t h e ‘ I ’ that is its essential nature, a n d , w h e n it does develop its o w n differences, t h i s differentiation does not become a n a t u r e that

is objective and intrinsic

to

it.

We are i n the presence o f self-consciousness i n a new shape, a consciousness which, as the infinitude o f consciousness o r as its o w n pure movement, is aware o f itself as essential being, a b e i n g w h i c h thinks o r is a free selt-consciousness.

I n thinking, I a m free. —Phenomenology (197)

Freedom 1s just another word, for nothing left topherson 64. Vocation ofM a n , p . 95.

to

lose. —Kris Kris-

456

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

The progression called “Freedom o f Self-Consciousness: Stoicism, Skepticism, and Unhappy Consciousness” 1s the ever more desperate series o f attempts t o regain a mythical independence. T h e masterslave parable marked the loss o f that sense o f unlimited, isolated ex-

istence, as if, that is, one could imagine without absurdity the possibility o f anything we would call human with an “independent” existence i n the first place. The master-slave is therefore n o t the first step i n the formation o f social consciousness, b u t a pre-social m y t h

which has been abused by philosophers t o draw conclusions about the nature o f society which are absurd.® T h e section o n “Freedom” is the

continuation o f that myth, and the concept o f “freedom,” accordingly, is conceived of i n a strictly negative fashion, and as i t expands It is increasingly empty. The criterion o f freedom, i n fact, is total independence from the limitations o f other people—Rousseau’s criterion i n his second Discourse. And i f there 1s nothing one can do t o achieve that independence within a relationship—whether as m a s t e r or as slave—then it will have to be found somewhere else, outside o f all h u m a n relationships, perhaps, i n a sense, even outside o f the whole

sensuous world o f consciousness that has concerned us so far. T h e three philosophies herein discussed have one trait i n common

above all else; they are reactions against the frustrations o f the world. They are primarily denials and thus “negative.” A popular song today says, “freedom is just another word for nothing left t o lose”; i t is n o t a bad summary o f “freedom” in this part o f the Phenomenology. I t is not a reaction against slavery as such, b u t a rejection o f any sense o f limitation to self-consciousness, even i f that means skimming off self-

consciousness from the world through which i t emerged in the first place. N o e r r o r is m o r e common than viewing Stoicism et al. as a re-

action against the oppressions o f slavery, and the idea that i t is the slave, b u t n o t t h e master, w h o is followed from here o n . % B u t this

would be totally

at

odds with Hegel’s all-inclusive ambitions. (After

all, masters are p a r t o f Spirit too.) A n d i t totally ignores the fact that, at

the end of the master-slave parable, the problem o f the

master

is

the same as the p r o b l e m o f the slave—namely, loss o f that same sense o f independence that he once thought h e had guaranteed, as a master. B u t if we need any further argument o n this point, t h e conclusive

consideration should be this—that

two

o f the m o s t readily identifiable

6 5 . Differenz-essay, p . 144ff.

66. Thus John Plamenartz says: “ . . . the future lies with the slave. I t is his destiny

to

c r e a t e t h e community i n w h i c h e v e r y o n e a c c o r d s recognition t o e v e r y o n e else, t h e c o m m u n i t y i n which Spirit a t t a i n s i t s e n d a n d achieves its s a t i s f a c t i o n ” ( M a n a n d Society, v o l .

2 ) . C f . G e o r g e A r m s t r o n g Kelly, “ N o t e s o n H e g e l ' s ‘ L o r d s h i p a n d B o n d a g e ’ ” i n

I n t y r e , Hegel, p . 1 9 3 , — “ W h e r e d i d Hegel ever say this?” I n d e e d , h e never did.

Mac-

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

457

voices i n the “Freedom” section are Marcus Aurelius, Stoic philoso-

pher and the emperor o f all Rome, and Epictetus, a slave. The problems o f self-consciousness are n o t only the domain of the socially oppressed. I t is unnecessary t o repeat Hegel’s early enthusiasm for the Greeks and his thorough knowledge o f ancient philosophy. Perhaps it is worth repeating the fact that Skepticism (with a “ k ” ) as i t appears here refers only t o the ancient philosophy of life taught by Pyrrho and Sextus Empiricus, who were influenced by Oriental religions rather than David Hume and the eighteenth-century “sceptics.” B u t the period o f Greek philosophy here discussed, unlike the brighter days o f Athens reported by Plato and Aristotle and their contemporary playwrights, has a gloomy, anti-worldly cast, with which Hegel obviously has little sympathy. I n d e e d , h e sees them not as alternatives and as opposites o f N o r t h e r n Christian gloom, as Goethe wrote i n Faust, b u t as its log-

ical precedents. Indeed, the path from Stoicism t o the early Christian church is easily marked, so long as we make some distinction between the philosophy o f the church (which is what “unhappy consciousness” is about) and the reality o f Jesus himself—which will have t o wait a later and much more favorable place i n the dialectic of the Phenomenology.5” Stoicism, Skepticism, and “Unhappy Consciousness” mark a conceptual path o f progressive renunciation o f the world, and Hegel, accordingly, despises them all.

STOICISM

Freedom is independence from others, and i f this is so, then the one truly free activity is thinking because I am n o t i n an other, but remain simply and solely in communion with myself, and the object, which is for me the essential being, is in undivided unity my being- for-myself. (197)

This notion o f freedom as thinking, Hegel identifies i n “the history o f Spirit” as Stoicism; Its principle is that consciousness is a being that thinks, and that consciousness holds something to be essentially important, o r true a n d good only i n so far as i t thinks it to b e such. (198)

Stoicism is a rejection o f the master-slave relationship (199) for it realizes that, whether as master or as servant, there is no escape from 67. 1 will argue, the section o n “ t h e B e a u t i f u l Soul,” i n the last p a r t o f Chapter 6 , “Spirit.”

458

Hitching the Highway of Despair

dependency. Or, in other words, given the strict definition o f freedom as conceptual independence, only God can be free, as “thought thinking itself,’ i n the classic phrase from Aristotle.®® A n d yet, o u r aim is to b e free in precisely this sense (which led Sartre, in a sometimes

stoical Being and Nothingness, t o say that we “desire t o be God”).*® And t o do this is t o withdraw from the world and its master-slave dependencies and t o become “indifferent” (apatheia was the word o f the ancients).”® A n d this is n o less true o f the most powerful earthly lord, the emperor o f all Rome (Marcus Aurelius) o r the lowest o f slaves

(Epictetus); whether on the throne or i n chains, i n the u t t e r dependence of its individual existence, its aim is to b e free, a n d to maintain that lifeless

indifference which steadfastly withdraws from the bustle o f existence, alike from being active as passive, into the simple essentiality

o f thought. (199)

And lest anyone still think that i t is only the slave that becomes a Stoic, Hegel tells us, in n o uncertain terms, that, As a umwersal form o f the World-Spirit, Stoicism could only appear

o n the scene ın a t i m e o f universal fear and bondage, b u t also a time

o f universal culture which had raised itself t o the level o f thought. (199; emphasis added)

Hegel spends only a little over t w o pages o f opaque prose discuss-

i n g Stoicism, b u t its references are absolutely clear i f one compares his phrases with the original sources. The question of the “criterion o f truth” (Phenomenology, 200), for example, is d r a w n directly from

Sextus Empiricus, who defines it as: “the thing i n view o f which we assert that these things exist and those do n o t exist, and that these are the case and those are n o t . ” ’ ! T h e answer t o the question o f the criterion, i n turn, is the now familiar word recognition, o r what we would

probably call “by intuition.” The too-simple phrase “the True and the Good shall consist i n reasonableness” (ibid.) summarizes the whole o f

Stoic thought in a single sentence, and the cumbersome phrase “achieve its consumation as absolute negation” (201) refers to the ultimate assertion o f freedom—namely, suicide, which is, o f course, exactly what

Seneca did, after thinking and writing about i t for years. (There are 68. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 1072. 69. T h e argument is that we want t o b e absolutely free (as “for-itself” o r conscious-

ness) b u t at the same time completely formed (as “in-itself”); b u t this is the classical definition o f God, as “ i n and for Himself” both completely free and completely formed

with “all possible perfections.” 70. See J . M . Rist, Stoic Philosophy (Cambridge: C a m b r i d g e U n i v . Press, 1969), p p .

26, 31, 34, 35, 38, 45, 195, 196. 71. Against the Mathematicians, 7.29, quoted i n Rist, p. 133.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

459

few better examples o f the fact that Hegel's so-called “speculative language” is more often than n o t euphemisms and intentional avoidance o f simply saying what he means.) I n t e r m s o f history, i t 1s evident from these passages that Hegel 1s i n fact n o t talking about the whole o f Stoicism, from Zeno o f Citium and Chrysippus (in the third century B.C.) t o Panaetius and Posidonius i n the century before Christ, but only the last years o f the school, a n d Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius. M u c h o f his informa-

tion seems t o come from the reportage o f Sextus Empiricus, ın the

second century A.D.”? T h e early Stoics were not the dualists that He-

gel speaks o f here, separating thought and spirit from the world; that is distinctively Marcus Aurelius. The notion of “indifference” was n o t t o be found so much i n the early Stoics, who followed Aristotle i n their celebration o f virtuous action,” but mainly i n Epictetus, who made i t his dominant principle. And the notion that the ultimate assertion o f freedom is suicide (“absolute negation”) is distinctly Seneca, n o one e l s e . ’ I n d e e d , Hegel seems to have done little research into the Stoics, and even so thorough an investigation as Harris's He-

gel’s Development uncovers only an occasional reference

to

Stoicism.”

B u t this is n o t surprising i f the Stoics—that is, the very late Stoics i n Rome—were as h e insists so antithetical t o the early Greek ideals h e

celebrated with Holderlin. Withdrawal from the world—and suicide i n particular—was n o t Hegel's idea o f virtue and the good life. Although what he gives us is too brief, i t is not difhcult t o show how the (late) Stoic philosophy fits in so well with the section on “Seltconsciousness.” Indeed, Hegel seems t o be tacitly claiming (and there 7 2 . O f a l l o f t h e a n c i e n t S t o i c s a n d Skeptics, S e x t u s Empiricus b y far gets t h e most

attention i n Hegel's o w n Lectures on the History of Philosophy, trans. H a l d a n e a n d Simson, e s p . v o l . 1 . B u t S e x t u s E m p i r i c u s w a s antagonistic t o t h e Stoics, a n d i n a n y case n o t

always a dependable reporter. Curiously, Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, who play key roles i n the section here, are barely mentioned in the later lectures, and Chrysippus a n d t h e e a r l y S t o i c s , w h o p l a y very little r o l e h e r e , a r e given m u c h g r e a t e r attention. 73. Chrysippus i n particular defended a conception o f Stoicism that placed m o s t o f i t s emphasis o n responsibility a n d virtuous a c t i o n . S e e Rist, pp. 112-32. A l s o Edelstein,

The Meaning o f Stoicism (Cambridge: H a r v a r d University Press, 1966), p . 191. 74. M a r c u s Aurelius “ h a d his d o u b t s ” about t h e reasonableness o f suicide, a n d E p i c t e t u s clearly p r e f e r r e d indifference t o d e a t h by suicide as a n a s s e r t i o n o f o n e ’ s f r e e d o m . See Rist, p . 251. 75. Harris, p p . 299, 302: “ . . . we finally reach the opposite extreme o f enlightened o p t i m i s m o r s t o i c cosmopolitanism, w h e r e the positive (authoritarian)

element i s r e -

duced t o a minimum assumption o f ‘the Author o f Nature, who is supremely Just Judge and Monarch i n his o w n kingdom o f the spirit.” H e quotes an early manuscript by Hegel, in which he says, “the [Stoic] citizen o f the world comprehends the whole h u m a n r a c e i n h i s w h o l e — a n d so m u c h less o f t h e l o r d s h i p o v e r objects a n d o f t h e

favor o f the Ruling Being falls

to

the lot o f any one individual; every individual loses

t h a t m u c h more o f his worth, his pretensions, a n d his independence; for his w o r t h was

his share in lordship.” (p. 299).

460

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

is some justification for this) that the metaphysical notion o f freedom— which is today usually discussed as “the free will problem” —originates with the Stoics, and originates i n reaction t o the insufferable conditions o f the decadent Roman empire.” Freedom, on this account, is negative freedom, freedom from the determinations o f the world, t h e sense that one aspect o f us, at least, is free to d o (that is, to

think) what i t pleases. The self thus becomes identified with thought, and thought thereby becomes freedom.’” For the earlier Stoics, the ideal was virtue; for Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, free-

dom from the sufferings o f the world became the ideal. Thus Seneca wrote to Lucilius, “ t o t h i n k about death is to think about freedom,” and Epictetus, not such a fan o f self-disposal, preached the importance o f apathy.”

I t should be clear how this is a distinctive conceptual advance over

the master-slave way o f thinking, ¢f, that is, one accepts their common goal o f total independence. For t h e master as well as the slave, there is n o independence to b e found i n o u r daily life, and so, i f one is to

find i t at all, it will only be i n the unworldly realm o f thought, o f “spirit.” Again, the emphasis on the late Stoics is evident: it is really Marcus Aurelius who preached the division o f spirit and body, and the divine nature o f thought alone; Live with the gods. But he is living with the gods who continuously exhibits his soul to them, as satisfied with its dispensation and doing what the daimon wishes. . . . A n d this daimon 1s each man’s mind a n d reason.”?

T h e variations o n the theme o f “withdrawal” are perhaps more interesting b u t n o t as important as t h e central theme itself; even the

early Stoics, who did n o t accept withdrawal from the world, believed that the world was a rational organic entity—Reason as “the soul o f

the World,” and they accepted a certain denigration of the physical world (or “matter”) i n favor o f the survival o f more spiritual elements. The world would be periodically destroyed by fire, Chrysippus used t o teach, but God would survive and the world would be76. I t is generally agreed that the so-called “free will problem” was n o t t o be found i n t h e classic G r e e k s — P l a t o a n d Aristotle i n p a r t i c u l a r . Aristotle simply defined “freedom” as voluntary action, which means that i t is n o t due t o “compulsion o r ignorance” (Nicomachean Ethics, 1 1 1 0 ) . See, for e x a m p l e , D . J . O'Connor, A Critical History o f Western Philosophy (New York: Free Press, 1964), p. 58. By the time o f Augustine, however, the problem is already well defined (pp. 91-93) and it clearly has a t least its origins i n Chrysippus and the early Stoics (Rist, op. cit.). 77. This conception o f “freedom” as self-identification is developed i n Frithjof B e r g m a n n , O n Being Free ( N o t r e D a m e : U n i v . o f N o t r e D a m e Press, 1979), ch. 1. 78. Epistles 26.10, i n Rist, p . 247. O n Epictetus, p . 251.

79. A.S.L. Farquharson, The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Oxford, 1944), 5.27.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

461

come “soul.” T h e ideal life, they all believed, was life according t o reason, and it Is only i n the late Stoics that reason turns against life, as freedom from the passions, even freedom from life itself. Thus

Hegel says (too briefly) that consciousness must “grasp the living world as a system o f thought” and find freedom in “pure thought” (200). Stoicism is the celebration o f Reason and the rationality o f the world,

despite its appearances; it is the recognition that, in thought, there is nothing t o fear from life. Indeed, Stoicism could be characterized (as Hegel implies) as a philosophy against fear, teaching that, with proper

understanding, there is nothing t o fear, n o t even death. Thus Seneca says, “free yourself from servitude, the fear o f death and poverty; learn there 1s no evil i n them”® and i t would n o t be unwise t o remind ourselves here o f Fichte’s o w n somewhat stoical stance toward reality,

in his Vocation ofMan, where he says, . . . w i t h this insight, mortal, b e free, and forever released from the

fear which has degraded and tormented you. You will no longer tremble a t a necessity which exists only i n your own thought, no longer fear t o be crushed by things which are the product o f your o w n mind.?!

Stoicism 1s denial; it denies what 1t cannot control, what it cannot master,

in t e r m s o f something else, only dimly recognized, the True

and the G o o d , the flicker o f cosmic Reason within us, yearning for

the world as a rational whole. I t would n o t be unfair

to

point o u t that

o u r confidence i n this view, stated more positively, is precisely what

Hegel too came t o believe, a t least certainly in his later works. But in the Phenomenology, he is still too much o f an intellectual activist t o tolerate any form o f “withdrawal from the world.”

SKEPTICISM

Readers o f the Phenomenology have often been disturbed by the somewhat ephemeral distinction they find between Stoicism, o n the one h a n d , and Skepticism o n the other. Stoicism consists o f a withdrawal from the everyday world and Skepticism consists o f a denial that we can k n o w that there even is a world. T h e distinction is fuzzy, at best, and matters are not at all helped b y the fact that Hegel's language is too similar i n the t w o discussions. Skepticism was, historically, a direct successor t o Stoicism and the attempt t o solve some o f the same problems. B u t the difference, i n a few phrases, is this: Stoicism is a theory 80. Rist, p . 224. 81.Vocation of Man,

83.

462

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

about the world, i n fact, the attempt to see the real world as a “system

o f thought.” Skepticism is, quite the contrary, the rejection o f all theories about the w o r l d , since the world, i f there is one, is unknowable

and there is nothing intelligible t o say about it. Thus, consistently, the first Skeptic Pyrrho (4th-3rd century B.C.) d i d n o t write down a word o f his philosophy. Almost all o f i t comes to us from Sextus Empiricus,

Cicero, and a few others. Hegel (in his Lectures on the History of Philosophy) rightly praises Pyrrho for his consistency i n this, and beside him, the articulate and systematic scepticism o f David Hume, 2500 years later, looks fraudulent by comparison.®Ancient Skepticism, unlike its modern versions, is n o t simply or primarily an epistemological theory; i t 1s rather an attitude and, as such, a practical consideration, a n ethics. I t was said o f Pyrrho that “ h e

feared neither wagons nor precipices nor dogs,” and his philosophy was aimed, like that o f the Stoics, a t the attainment o f h u m a n happi-

ness.® Accordingly, Pyrrho recommended a life of simplicity; he placed no value a t all o n theoretical debate and aimed instead a t a life o f “psychic quietude” (atarax:a).®* H e was, perhaps, the only Greek philosopher who was influenced by the Orient, and h e spent several years traveling to I n d i a and talking to holy m e n (Magi) there. H i s epistemological criticism—that o u r sense experience is contradictory and

tell us about the world—is t o be understood i n the context of these ethical views.® His insistence that i t is useless t o speculate about the nature o f the reality behind the appearances was aimed, as i n the

cannot

Stoics and as i n the quotation from Fichte above, to free us from fear, t o make o u r lives more secure and tolerable. Its practical strategy was stlence.

After Pyrrho, Skepticism became academic. And there is no such as a silent academic. I t is arguable that Academic Skepticism

creature

is n o t so m u c h an elaboration o f Pyrrho’s views so much as a second

version o f this philosophy.®® Under Arcesilaus and Carneades (3rd 82. Here, as before, I w i l l distinguish m o r e m o d e r n scepticism, as developed b y

Hume and utterly repudiated by Hegel, from ancient Skepticism, which Hegel praises as a n a t t a c k o n t h e d o g m a t i s m o f c o m m o n sense a n d “ t h e u n t r u t h o f t h e finite.” I n a n

early review o f Gottlob Ernst Schulze’s Critique of Theoretical Philosophy (1801) Hegel had contrasted the t w o ( w i t h Schulze, n o t Hume, as t h e m o d e r n representative) a n d called

the modern version “anti-philosophy.” Though he utterly rejects Skepticism too, i t a t l e a s t deserves a p l a c e i n t h e “History o f Spirit,” w h i c h scepticism d o e s n o t . H u m e d o e s n o t figure

i n a n y w a y i n t h e s e c t i o n o n “Skeptizismus”; i n s o f a r a s h e figures i n t h e P G

a t all, i t is o n l y t o b e e l i m i n a t e d i n t h e Introduction. 83. D. Hamlyn, o n “Greek Philosophy After Aristotle”

i n O'Connor, p. 72; and Charlotte Stough, Greek Skepticism (Los Angeles: Univ. o f California Press, 1969), p . 4. 84. Stough, pp. 4, 6. 85. Hamlyn, p. 73; Stough, pp. 16-34; Myles Burnyeat, “ T h e Sceptic i n his Place a n d T i m e ” (unpublished essay): “ a r e c i p e for h a p p i n e s s . ”

86. Stough, p p . 6, 35-66.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

463

and second centuries B.C., respectively), Skepticism became the art

o f criticism and debate, and by arguing both sides o f a question, the Skeptics often succeeded in demonstrating that there was n o single correct answer and, therefore, n o answer at all. T h e first part o f this strategy obviously appealed t o Hegel, for whom contradiction had

become an important concept, particularly i n Kant’s antinomies; but the conclusion that, therefore, we could not know reality, would b e equally unacceptable t o h i m , for exactly the same reason that Kant’s discussion o f the antinomies was unacceptable; contradiction is a virtue, n o t a vice o f reason. Contradictions show us—they d o not h i d e

from us—the nature o f reality (203-5). I n the third and second centuries B.C., Skepticism and Stoicism were rival schools, and the criticisms o f the first d i d much to transform the latter. I n the following century o r so, Skepticism remained

alive but assumed a shadowy presence i n philosophy, largely critical and, true t o itself i n one sense a t least, i t left nothing b y way o f tan-

gible evidence.?” I t 1s only i n the second century A.D., with Sextus Empiricus, that Stoicism finds its more durable voice and a willingness t o commit the Skeptical philosophy t o writing. I n his Outlines of

Pyrrhonism and Against the Mathematicians, Sextus Empiricus describes with enthusiastic attention t o detail the teachings o f his predecessors.® B u t h e too abstained from theory. For h i m as for Pyrrho, phi-

losophy consisted o f criticism, and its only use was t o criticize and refute alternative philosophical views, especially Stoicism. The philosopher is like a m a n affected by an illness, h e tells us (much like the later Wittgenstein); the Skeptic provides his cure. (Sextus Empiricus

also happened t o be a physician.) Hegel confuses the rivalry between Stoicism and Skepticism; Skepticism is the realization o f that o f which Stoicism was only the concept [Begriff], and is the actual experience o f what the freedom

o f thought is. This is in itself the negative and m u s t exhibit itself as such. (Phenomenology, 202)

H e says, rightly, that Skepticism dispenses with the notion o f the reality o f the world, b u t his way o f putting i t sounds too m u c h as if

Skepticism were a further metaphysical theory—which was certainly not the c a s e®; 87. Stough o n Aenesidemus and Agrippa, pp. 8-11 and ch. 4. 88. Stough, ch. 5. 89. Hamlyn, p. 74. Cf. “ F o r w h e r e a s t h e dogmatizer posits t h e things a b o u t which he i s said t o b e dogmatizing as r e a l l y existent, t h e S k e p t i c d o e s n o t p o s i t t h e s e f o r m u l a e i n a n y a b s o l u t e sense . . . t h e S k e p t i c enunciates h i s f o r m u l a e s o t h a t t h e y a r e virtually c a n c e l l e d b y t h e m s e l v e s . . . w i t h o u t m a k i n g a n y positive a s s e r t i o n r e g a r d i n g external

realities.” (Sextus Empiricus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism, C h a p t e r VII, 14-5).

464

Hitching the Highway of Despair With the reflection of self-consciousness into the simple thought o f itself, the independent existence or permanent determinateness that stood over against t h a t reflection has, as a matter o f fact, fallen out-

side the infinitude o f thought. . . .thought becomes the concrete thinking which annihilates the being o f the world i n all its manifold determinateness, and the negativity o f free self-consciousness comes to know itself i n the many and varied forms o f life as a real negativity. (Ibid.)

Skepticism too is a reaction t o the Master-Slave dilemma, and like Stoicism, i t reacts by denying its reality. I t rejects the possibility o f understanding, as well as the importance of, the world. Stoicism ap-

pealed t o an abstract confidence that the world itself was rational and meaningful; Skepticism denies this. But, Hegel points o u t (204), i n denying the world the Skeptic m u s t also deny his own relationship t o i t which, whatever the power o f his arguments, is a practical impossibility. Thus the danger is that the arguments o f the Skeptic will become pure “sophistry,” compelling arguments that cannot possibly have any real application, and consequently are n o t really accepted even

by the Skeptic himself. The argument against Skepticism, in other words, is the impossible contradiction between what i t believes (or refuses t o believe) about the world and the way one m u s t actually act i n it.

Its deeds and its word always belie one another and equally i t has itself the doubly contradictory consciousness o f unchangeableness a n d sameness, a n d o f u t t e r c o n t i n g e n c y a n d non-identity with itself.

(205)

I t does n o t believe what i t says, and, Its talk is i n fact like the squabbling of self-willed children, one o f whom says A i f the other says B, and ın t u r n says B i f the other says A , a n d w h o b y contradicting

themselves b u y for themselves t h e plea-

sure o f continually contradicting one another. (205)

Thus Hegel sees Skepticism as n o t only escapist withdrawal from the world b u t as childish as well; i t is n o t serious philosophy, nor does

it even attempt

to

provide what philosophy ought

to

provide for us,

a coherent and practicable view o f t h e w o r l d . B u t behind this m a i n l y

moral criticism, an important philosophical criticism looms as well. The inconsistency o f the Skeptic also lies i n his uncritical emphasis o n the purely “empirical” and “sensuous” aspects o f experience, which i t accepts as “real” apart from the world, a n independent e x i s t e n c e .

And this i n

turn

is a metaphysical position—though unacknowl-

90. Cf. S e x t u s Empiricus’ “empiricism” i n w h i c h “sensibles” b e c o m e t h e basis o f all reality, somewhat as “Sense-Certainty” i n the PG. See Stough, p. 107ff.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

465

edged. B u t here Hegel uses the same objection he used against the modern sceptics, namely,—that the independent existence o f such a consciousness is itself subject t o serious scrutiny. The sceptic/Skeptic claims the independence o f consciousness b u t i n fact employs presuppositions and considerations drawn from the very world it claims t o deny:

I t lets the unessential content in its thinking vanish, but just i n doing so i t is the consciousness o f something unessential. . . . I t afhrms the

nullity o f seeing, hearing, e t c . but yet it is itself seeing, hearing, etc. (205)

The philosophical reader will recognize here a prefiguring of what later phenomenologists would call “intentionality,” and the utter absurdity o f trying t o talk about sense experience as a self-enclosed realm. B u t Hegel's main complaint here is the uncritical inconsistencies o f

Skepticism—Hume’s denial o f the laws of necessary causation as he walks over t o the table t o play a game o f billiards. This 1s couched i n the m o r e profound b u t not very helpful language o f a “dialectical

unrest” (205) but the point is simple enough: withdrawal from the world simply doesn’t work. T h e world is too much with us, and n o

adequate world-view or “form o f consciousness” can intelligibly deny that fact.

“UNHAPPY CONSCIOUSNESS” A n d yet we try. T h e misery o f the world and o u r lust for freedom i n

this most extravagant o f senses—as freedom from everyone and everything, goes still one step further. I n Stoicism, thought itself is supposed t o be freedom, and in Skepticism, this freedom can be made consistent only by denying the world but, inevitably, i t is forced t o recognize the reality o f the world i t denies, a t least in practice. The next step is to view oneself as reality, at least as having reality w i t h i n

oneself. This yields a dual consciousness—a merely empirical, confused, and transient self (as i n Skepticism) a n d a n eternal, rational,

real self, as i n Stoicism (206). Hegel marks this progression as the realization o f the Skeptic that h e cannot both accept and deny the

reality of the world, and so he “brings together the t w o thoughts which Skepticism holds apart”: Skepticism’s lack o f thought about itself m u s t vanish, because it is in fact one c o n s c i o u s n e s s w h i c h c o n t a i n s w i t h i n i t s e l f t h e s e t w o modes.

T h i s new form is, therefore, one which knows that i t is the d u a l con-

466

Hitching the Highway ofDespair sciousness o f itself, as self-liberating, unchangeable and self-identical, and as self-bewildering and self-perverting, and it is awareness o f the contradictory nature o f itself. (206)

Thus we become a single, contradictory, schizoid, and emphatically unhappy consciousness. The “unhappy consciousness,” Hegel famously tells us, 1s “the duplication which formerly was divided between t w o individuals, the lord and the bondsman. . . now lodged in one.” This has lead some readers to suppose some rather extravagant, even pathological interpretations,®! b u t the truth is quite simple, i f we turn back, for the moment, to Hegel's early manuscripts o n religion: I n his “Spirit o f Christianity a n d I t s F a t e ” o f 1 7 9 8 - 9 9 , Hegel writes o f t h e Christian-

Kantian-Fichtean who feels bound by universal Reason and duty within himself:

between the Shaman, the European prelate who rules the church a n d state, the Voguls a n d the Puritans, o n t h e o n e hand, a n d the

man who listens to his own commands o f duty, on the other, the difference is n o t that the former have their l o r d outside themselves while the latter is free, b u t that the former have their lord outside themselves while the latter carries his l o r d i n himself, yet at the same time is his o w n slave.°?

Earlier i n that same essay, Hegel discussed the story o f Noah, who was given the Lord’s promise that h e would never again destroy mank i n d , so long as m e n i n t u r n obeyed his commandments®® (182—-83).

I t is this that forms the basis for the “unhappy consciousness,” the internalization o f such outside threats and fears. The unhappy consciousness, i n other words, is the Judeo-Christian tradition, “ t h e fear

o f God in one’s own heart,” even if the name “God” never once appears.

The observation that the “unhappy consciousness” is religious is n o t new, needless to say; most commentators begin with this as obvious.%* B u t what is just as obvious b u t n o t so often recognized is the extremely sarcastic tone i n which the entire section is cast; H e g e l de-

spises traditional Christianity just as much in 1806 as he did i n 1793, a n d his t r e a t m e n t o f Catholicism is p a r t i c u l a r l y vicious. I t is curious, for instance, that despite their obvious importance, Hegel all but ignores the great Catholic thinkers, a n d the commentators too seem to

accept this. Yet, the one figure who best captures the “spirit” o f the “Unhappy Consciousness” 1s—St. Augustine. I n the historical pro91. Kojeve, Introduction to the Reading of Hegel, and Richard Sennett, Authority (New York: 1981). 92. “ T h e Spirit o f Christianity a n d I t s Fate” i n Knox, t r a n s . Early Theo. Miss., p- 211.

93. Ibid. 182-83. 94. E.g., Lauer, A Reading, p . 117f; Findlay, Hegel, p. 98.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

467

gression from Stoicism, culminating i n the philosophy o f Marcus Aurelius i n the second century A.D., to Skepticism, as summarized b y

Sextus Empiricus i n the second century t o o , Augustine fits i n pertectly, following the intervening period o f the Gnostics, Plotinus, and

other varieties o f neo-Platonist philosophy. Augustine’s Christian philosophy was thoroughly dualistic, so painfully obvious i n his own Confessions.” H e saw himself t o r n between t w o selves, the bodily self o f desire and needs i n bewildering confusion, and the rational self of the will with its quest for unity with God and the eternal. Augustine, more than anyone except Kierkegaard (who was

not

born until six

years after the publication o f the Phenomenology) is the “unhappy consciousness.” But Hegel doesn’t even allude t o him.*® This, o f course, is too simple. “Unhappy Consciousness” does n o t refer particularly t o Augustine, but t o the whole o f a certain kind o f religious consciousness, from the a n c i e n t Hebrews through Luther and the Reformation, which Nietzsche—following Hegel—called “slave religions”. What these a l l have in common is a “soul o f despair,” a n attempt to escape from the hardships o f life through a metaphysical scheme, i n w h i c h they themselves become at one w i t h reality, i f at the same time pathetic because o f i t . A t every moment, Hegel tells us, the u n h a p p y consciousness is driven o u t o f the world o f everyday life o r the

world o f eternal, unchangeable reality “ i n the very m o m e n t when

i t imagines i t has successfully attained t o a peaceful unity with the

other” (207). The unhappy consciousness sees itself t o r n between t w o forms o f existence—a “natural” existence, in which relationships with other people and the desires o f the body play a n essential part, and a d i v i n e , other-worldly,

eternal e x i s t e n c e , w h i c h p r e s u p p o s e s t h e rejec-

tion o f the first. Nietzsche, years later, would extend the concept o f the unhappy consciousness all the way back t o Plato.®” But Hegel sees clearly t h a t , i n the early Greeks, “otherworldly” metaphysics never led t o a withdrawal from or denial o f the world o f everyday life. That particular move, which culminates i n the flesh-despising epistles o f St. Paul and the anti-bodily edicts o f the medieval saints, presupposed 95. Confessions, trans. F.]J. Sheed (London, 1944). 96. I n t h e w h o l e o f D a r r e l Christensen’s Hegel a n d

the Philosophy of Religion

(Hague;

Nijhoff, 1970), Augustine’s name is mentioned only once, i n a random list o f important p h i l o s o p h e r s b e f o r e H e g e l . B u t t h e m y s t e r y d e e p e n s c o n s i d e r a b l y w h e n w e see t h a t Augustine i s hardly d i s c u s s e d a t a l l in H e g e l ' s o w n Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy, n o t a t a l l i n Harris’s exhaustive s u r v e y o f Hegel's e a r l y r e a d i n g a n d influences. W h y ? T h e e a s y i f unflattering a n s w e r w a s t h a t H e g e l h a t e d Catholicism (Harris, pp. 21, 26, 4 5 ) a n d d i d n o t see i t as appropriate e v e n t o d e i g n t o c a l l A u g u s t i n e a philosopher. Aquinas t o o gets short shrift, despite t h e fact t h a t H e g e l h a d e i t h e r r e a d o r r e a d a b o u t

h i m . (See vol. 3 , p . 80). 97. Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols ( i n K a u f m a n n , V i k i n g Portable Nietzsche, 1964).

468

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

the general sense o f “fear and bondage” and a “universal culture of thought” that Hegel anticipates in his discussion of Stoicism (199). I t was one o f the great accomplishments o f h u m a n thought, i n other words, that i t h a d learned, over the course o f centuries, to demean

itself and reject the whole world. Insofar as the “Unhappy Consciousness” plays an essential role i n the dialectic of “Self-Consciousness,” the particular movements within it—which i n fact represent n o t only the increasingly desperate logic o f the world-withdrawal but the actual history o f religion as well— might better be discussed later on, when we discuss Hegel’s philosophy o f religion as such.”® For now, it will be enough t o sketch a gen-

eral structural outline o f this form o f consciousness, and St. Augustine can serve as o u r starting point. I t is God and my soul I want to know.—Nothing else?’—No; nothing whatever.”

Thus Augustine summarizes his view o f the world, and “unhappy consciousness” too: Two consciousnesses—divine and mine—in seclusion from the world o f desire and other people. B u t t w o consciousnesses too that rage against one another, n o t j u s t as Platonic parts o f

the soul but as absolutely incompatible and mutually destructive combatants (208). One part, unchangeable and essential (das Unwandelbare, wesenliche) can only make the other part, changeable and inessential (das Wandelbare, unwesenliche) feel hopelessly inadequate. And,

indeed, this is precisely what makes the “unhappy consciousness” so unhappy—not mere schizophrenia but the ultimate in self-debasement and self-denial. I n Stoicism and Skepticism, the frustrated seeker after a dubious freedom turned against the world, only to find, inevitably, that the world and its troubles are too m u c h with us. O r rather, we are too m u c h with them, and so the next conceptual step 1s obvious—we must

deny ourselves as well. I n favor o f what? I n Stoicism, we have already learned that the world has Reason which transcends our ordinary experience; i n Skepticism our ability t o understand this ultimate Reason is denied, b u t the concept is already established. Thus Hegel rightly

recognizes (though he doesn’t say this i n the Phenomenology) that Judaism and the religion o f the ancient Hebrews has much i n common with Stoicism, and pre-figures the “unhappy consciousness” i n several important ways. Judaism too rejects the world o f the Romans and sees itself as facing a n infinite and all-powerful consciousness, the Reason 9 8 . “ T h e S e c r e t o f H e g e l : K i e r k e g a a r d ' s Complaint,” c h a p . 1 0 .

99. Augustine, Soliloquies, 1.2.7.

Self-Consciousness: Desire, Dependency, and Freedom

469

o f the world, compared t o which we are pitiful and inadequate creatures

but still, “the chosen people.” I t

too

compares the eternity o f

God with the mere transience o f all o f us and the things that we value

(Ecclesiastes, notably). But, the Jews, unlike Christianity, strictly hold t o a unified view o f God, which, by way o f Spinoza, certainly appealed t o Hegel t o o . For the Jews, the sense of community had n o t been eclipsed by faith and dogma, and for the Jews (as for the Stoics) the belief i n an immortal God did n o t bestow o n them as individuals the same immortality. Despite Hegel's hardly complimentary attitudes to-

ward the Jews!® he would have seen i n them much that both made possible the advent o f Christianity and, less obviously, would make possible a new stage o f religious experience which was just now, i n the

new German philosophy, being formulated. This new self-athrming religion, however, 1s yet t o be realized. Hegel’s concern here is rather the traditional t u r n against oneself. I t is a mistake, I think, t o take the “Unhappy Consciousness” section t o be primarily about the n a t u r e o f God or religion or immortality.!°! I t is first o f all a study o f self-consciousness divided against itself, an attempt to d o away with one’s worldly self and thus “freeing” oneself from worldly dependency and coming t o recognize oneself as a t one

with the whole o f eternity. God (unnamed) is the eternal, projected by human consciousness by way of appeal. I t is the opposite of Fichte’s “Absolute ego,” which posits individuals; individuals, already un-

happy about the dependencies of life, posit the Absolute Ego. And, of course, i t is this historical-conceptual move that makes the FichteanHegelian position possible. B u t the conceptual move backfires, as Nietzsche pointed o u t more poignantly several decades later, “Man erects a n ideal—the ‘holy God’—and i n the face o f i t is forced t o a pathetic certainty o f o u r o w n unimportance.” 1%? I t becomes a battle

within oneself, “a struggle with an enemy” (ein Kampf gegen ein Fiend; (209)). The actual progression o f the “unhappy consciousness” should be discussed n o t here, i n the midst o f this somewhat perverse discussion of “freedom,” but later on, i n our discussion o f Hegel's philosophy o f religion. For our purposes here, i t is enough t o say that the section is a Nietzschean progression of a series o f “nay—sayings,” increasingly 100. I n the Positivity-essay and “The Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate,” i n Early Theo. Mss. 101. Cf. Findlay, Hegel, p. 98f., who takes this section t o be “medieval Christendom,”

and Taylor

too

(Hegel, p. 160). But cf. Lauer, A Reading, p. 117ff., and Findlay’s com-

i n his “Analysis” o f the P G , Miller tr., p . 527. 102. Nietzsche, Genealogy o f Morals, K a u f m a n n trans. ( N e w York: R a n d o m House,

ment

1967), p. 93.

470

Hıtching the Highway ofDespair

desperate rejections of the secular world and oneself as a secular being. This includes virtually the whole history o f Christianity, from its roots i n the O l d Testament ( G o d t h e “Unchangeable” as a n “ a l i e n ” Being,

passing judgment upon us (210))

to

the medieval Catholic church

(“purity o f consciousness” a n d “devotion” (214)) to the Reformation (the secular w o r l d as “sanctified” a n d salvation t h r o u g h w o r k ( 2 1 9 22)) and, m o s t desperately, t o its culmination in self-despising asceticism (“the enemy reveals himself as flesh” (225)). F r o m the schizoid split between two selves, one secular a n d one eternal, Christianity is thus viewed as the ever m o r e degrading attempt to be rid o f the secular self. For those who interpret Hegel and his Phenomenology as a

“Christian” apology—however heretical, this section should prove a powerful antidote. His unhappiness with the gloomy mood o f Christianity i n his early manuscripts is with h i m still, even if, i n a sudden

upswing a t the end o f the section, he then announces that, i n its unhappiness, consciousness has opened u p the way t o “Reason” (230). B u t what h e is really saying here 1s that, having denied ourselves and

the world so absurdly, there 1s nothing t o do but swing around in compensation, and embrace the world, and ourselves, once again. Kant always and everywhere recognizes that Reason, as the dimensionless activity, as pure concept o f infinitude is held fast i n its opposition t o t h e finite. H e r e c o g n i z e s that i n t h i s opposition R e a s o n is a n absolute, a n d hence a pure identity without intuition and i n

itself empty. But there 1s an immediate contradiction i n this: this infinitude, s t r i c t l y c o n d i t i o n e d as i t is by i t s a b s t r a c t i o n from i t s opposite, a n d being s t r i c t l y nothing outside o f this antithesis, is y e t a t t h e s a m e time held t o be a b s o l u t e s p o n t a n e i t y a n d a u t o n o m y . As f r e e d o m , R e a s o n is s u p p o s e d t o b e absolute, y e t t h e essence o f this freedom consists i n being solely through a n opposite.!%?

103. “Faith and Knowledge,” p. 181. See Murray Greene, o n “Hegel's ‘Unhappy Consciousness’ a n d Nietzsche’s ‘Slave Morality’ i n Christenson, e d , p . 125.

Chapter Eıght (a) Another Note o n Reason a n d the Dialectic

The critical philosophy has indeed turned metaphysics into logic, but— as already mentioned—Ilike the later idealism it shied at the object, and gave to logical determinations an essentially subjective signification; thus both the critical philosophy and the later idealism remained saddled with the Object which they shunned, and for Kant a “thing-in-itself,” for Fichte an abiding “resistance-principle,” was left over as an unconquerable other. But that freedom from the opposition of consciousness, which logic must b e able t o assume, lifts these thought-

determinations above such a timid and incomplete point o f view, and requires that those determinations should be considered n o t with any such limitation and reference, but as they are in and for themselves, as logic, as p u r e reason. —Hegel, Science o f Logic

O n our reading here, “Self-Consciousness” is something o f an interruption, a digression in an otherwise straightforward progression o f alternative conceptions o f knowledge. Indeed, the progression from chapter 3 (“Force and the Understanding”) t o chapter 5 (on “Observational Reason” and teleological explanation) is exactly the progression we find i n Schelling’s and Hegel’s (later) philosophy o f nature. The transition from the very Kantian discussion o f “Understanding” may connect u p unproblematically with the very Fichtean discussion o f “life” and “Self-Certainty” a t the beginning o f chapter 4, but i t ties u p just as well with the discussion—also Fichte—of the “Certainty and Truth o f Reason” that begins chapter 5. One might suggest, according t o the general line o f German Idealism, that both Part A (“Consciousness”) a n d Part B (“Self-Consciousness”) are intended not so

much t o lead one into the other but rather both o f them t u r n into “Reason” i n chapter 5. Thus, where Fichte begins with the “ I ” and then t u r n s t o the “non-1,” Hegel begins with the “non-I” and t u r n s instead t o the “ 1 . It

is also possible, however, to read

471

the

first two parts o f the Phenom-

472

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

enology as a quasi-historical progression—or rather, as t w o quasi-

historical progressions: from the ontological queries of the early Greeks in “Consciousness” t o the post-Aristotelean philosophies of the Stoics and Skeptics t o early Christianity, or from the beginnings of modern philosophy (Locke i n the Introduction, Berkeley, Leibniz, and Kant i n subsequent chapters) t o Fichte throughout the whole o f chapter 4 (even including “Unhappy Consciousness,” since Fichte too is always

looking for God “beyond” ordinary experience (despite the fact that Hegel tells us, i n the Lectures on the History o f Philosophy, that Fichte is

perfectly “happy” i n other aspects o f his philosophy!). O f course, there is no need t o choose between these interpretations or t o tie them down too tightly to any particular texts o r philosophers, b u t there is one

problem that remains for any o f these interpretations, and that is the awkward transition from “Unhappy Consciousness” a t the end o f chapter 4 into “Reason” a t the beginning o f chapter 5. O n the last, more modernistic interpretation, i t is n o t too problematic t o read “the Unhappy Consciousness” as the failure o f Fichte’s philosophy t o achieve (in Hegel's terms in “Faith and Knowledge”) “unity with the infinite Idea,” that 1s, a sense o f synthesis and harmony with the natural and

the spiritual world. O f course, this leaves us without any way o f interpreting m o s t o f the content o f that section, b u t it does give u s a fa-

miliar way o f making the bridge into “Reason,” which we can thereby interpret as Schelling’s philosophy, i n the light of Hegel's own Differenzessay o f 1801 i n which he compared the t w o in similar t e r m s . B u t whatever might be said i n favor o f this view, the overwhelming objection t o i t is that it utterly emasculates the Phenomenology and t u r n s it into a merely provincial philosophical exercise—no more ambitious in its scope (though different i n style) than the Differenz-essay. B u t when Hegel boldly announces, i n the beginning o f chapter 5, that reason sees itself as all reality, h e is making a claim which must not

just be understood academically, and certainly n o t merely in t e r m s o f his ex-colleague Schelling. I t is a bold idealistic claim about the world and our place within it, and nothing less. The key question, which indeed was inherent i n Schelling but now becomes Hegel's own, is this: how did human consciousness get so out o f

touch with itself and the world?! What started as perfectly common-sense knowledge of objects ended up in the absurdity of the “inverted world”; and what began as simple self-knowledge—as i n Descartes’s apparently innocent Cogito, ended u p in the intolerable self-denial of the “ U n h a p p y Consciousness.” I n terms o f the two parts o f the book we 1. Lectures, vol. 3 , p . 488.

Another Note o n Reason a n d the Dialectic

473

have covered so far, we m i g h t say that they represent a single problem over-all—our misusing concepts i n such a way that we have “ab-

stracted” ourselves from the world. Our different forms of conceiving o f ourselves and the world have had the tragic consequence that we have lost the very sense that we started with, that we d o indeed know

the world and that we are, indeed, substantial and real beings-in-theworld. I n t e r m s o f the history o f Western thinking, the same point can be made in a more general, cultural way: we have split ourselves apart through conceptual thought; we have made distinctions that, i n

some particular contexts, might well be valuable but, rendered i n the all-embracing t e r m s o f philosophy, they lead t o intolerable conclusions. The distinction between the contributions of the subject t o experience and the objective nature o f experience might serve us well

when we are struggling our way through a hallucination or an optical illusion, but i t is disastrous when turned into the basis o f epistemology as such. The distinction between “real self” and the “external” trappings o f self might be useful enough when trying t o decide o n a career or a college major, but i t is pathological when taken seriously as a philosophical distinction and leads us increasingly to look “deeper

and deeper” into ourselves instead of participating i n the world. What we find ın ourselves 1s less and less, finally only a pathetic “soul,” c u t

off from reality and other people, striving after the “infinite” and wholly unhappy i n the finite everyday world. I n this light, the transition from Parts A and B to “Reason” becomes, though Hegel certainly would n o t say so, a r e t u r n t o sanity and c o m m o n sense. When h e tells us that through reason we see ourselves as the whole o f reality, Hegel is saying that we won’t understand ourselves at all so long as we insist o n abstracting ourselves from the world, and, o n the other side, that we w i l l not understand the world so long as we Insist o n understanding i t i n isolation from the observ-

ing self—a common enough conclusion today among physicists too (belatedly among some psychologists as well). T o understand the con-

trasting exhilaration with which Hegel launches into “Reason” from the “Unhappy Consciousness,” one does n o t need an elaborate and ultimately implausible idealist metaphysics nor the insufferable jargon of “the infinite”; here is a down-to-earth philosopher coming back home, after wandering through the fascinating but ultimately impossible visions o f the great philosophers o f the past, with their visions o f other worlds more “real” t h a n this one, with their reductive meth-

ods according t o which the m o s t simple human experiences become questionable, with their grand conceptions o f the meaning of life which render life utterly meaningless. “Reason” 1s ultimately the unobjec-

474

Hitching the Highway of Despair

tionable view that the distinctions o f philosophy have t o be understood in their particular contexts, and that the understanding of those contexts presupposes a holistic view o f the world and oneself, an often unspoken backdrop of public practices and rituals and work and emotions and, n o t least, language—which a t one and the same time

makes comprehension possible and gives rise t o the concepts which have been responsible for our conceptual fragmentation of the world. I t is i n “Reason” that Hegel begins t o realize his youthful dream, with Holderlin more than Schelling, o f a vision o f life that is happy

and meaningful, i n which the stagnation o f German society would be replaced by the vitality o f the French Revolution, but without the violence. (The German “Spirit” would prevent the vacuum that brought

about the Terror.) I t is i n “Reason” that the abstract questions about the nature o f knowledge and the ultimate reality o f the self give rise t o more c o n c r e t e and practical questions about the good life, about the right way t o live, about virtue, belonging and happiness. I n fact, although i t is hardly talked about a t all, the entire long Part C o n “Reason” 1s mainly about happiness—or what Aristotle called “Eudaimonia” ( “ d o i n g well”). I t is i n this light that I have included the first p a r t o f chapter 5, o n “Observational Reason,” back with the more

theoretical concerns o f chapters 1-3. For the answer t o the “Unhappy Consciousness,” not j u s t i n the Phenomenology but i n o u r common experience too, 1s activity. T h e life o f contemplation isn’t m u c h o f a n

ideal i f all that there is t o contemplate is one’s own 1nadequacy in

opposition

to

some ideal “beyond.” I n the leap from that unhappy

contemplation, the usual first move, not perhaps a matter o f logic b u t

certainly a familiar progression, is

to

straight-out hedonism. Thus

Augustine lamented, “ L o r d make m e chaste; b u t not yet,” and the

miserably unhappy Kierkegaard, while still a young man, temporarily abandoned his s t a n c e as spokesman for the Unchangeable t o indulge i n a year o f unabashed libertinism. I t is a leap which we find again and again 1n the literature, and in our own undergraduates. I t is hardly to b e called, as Hegel announces i t at the e n d o f chapter 4 (230), a leap to “Reason” as we usually think o f i t . B u t i t is, i n t h e sense I a m

defending here, quite obviously a leap back into the world, an

at-

tempt t o become at one with i t i n the crude fashion we earlier consid-

ered i n the discussion o f “desire”; by eating it, drinking it, loving it, wallowing i n 1t, until, a few days or pages o f the Phenomenology later, we find the world once again too much with us, and so try t o “find ourselves” i n a more moderate, i f n o t more modest, philosophy.

Before we launch into the middle o f chapter 5, however, and take

Another Note o n Reason a n d the Dialectic

475

u p hedonism (“Pleasure and Necessity”) as our new form o f consciousness, this might be an ideal time t o stop and look back over the terrain we have covered, t o get a more panoramic view o f the shifts

i n the “dialectic” and the patterns that might be found there. When we discussed the details o f a single “dialectical” transition,

from Hegel's first chapter “Sense-Certainty”

to

his second chapter

“Perception,” we were concerned mainly with the dynamics o f the argument, which were: first, by forcing a view t o become more and more articulate and committed to itself, we show ( i n its o w n terms)

that i t contains fatal flaws, whether straightforward contradictions o r some logically lesser flaw—for example, the grotesque unhappiness

o f the “Unhappy Consciousness” or the philosophical hypocrisy o f the Skeptic. Second, a new view 1s postulated which, at least at the time, seems t o correct the major flaws o f the last one. I n o u r presentation o f the various steps i n the Phenomenology since then, we have

tried

to

make these t w o steps translucent wherever possible, and the

over-all movement o f the book, therefore, should now appear as a

sequence o f sometimes desperate leaps, n o t always toward something wholly specific (“determinate”) but away from a form o f consciousness which is no longer tolerable. O f course, one always steps away from something i n the direction o f something else, and i n the course o f the Phenomenology we habitually characterize this as “ a more adequate conception o f experience.” B u t this is indeed l i m p as a characterization and, i n any case, the next step is often adopted as hurredly as the last one was relinquished; one need only t h i n k o f the rapid

progression o f viewpoints through which a freshman philosophy s t u dent proceeds i n a single argument with his teacher. Nevertheless, we

have moved far enough along t o see if, in this sequence o f leaps, there is any distinguishable pattern that emerges. I believe that there is such a pattern, and it is this; the first step i n

each pattern is one o f certainty—most prominently, “Sense-Certainty” and “Self-Certainty” i n chapters 1 and 4 respectively (and now, “The C e r t a i n t y a n d Truth o f Reason” i n c h a p t e r 5 ) . I n every case, “cer-

tainty” refers t o a certain stubborn naiveté, a first grasping o f a viewpoint that, o n the slightest examination, turns out to b e highly problematic. Sense-certainty, for example, is the naive assurance o f common sense that objects are real, given to us in experience and knowable, i n

their entirety, without any problem a t all. Self-certainty is the CartesianFichtean cogito, that innocent formulation o f the m o s t rudimentary philosophical certainty of one’s own existence (“After all, surely I must exist even i f i t is only t o be fooled a b o u t everything”). Reason is simi-

476

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

larly “certain” o f its o w n “being-in-the-world,” t o use again the appro-

priate Heideggerian piece o f jargon. I t is

not

naive, perhaps, i n the

sense o f the common sense certainty o f that fictional character philosophers sometimes refer to as “ t h e m a n o n the street,” b u t it is naive

as a new freshman idealist is naive, sure o f himself in an empty way, certain that life 1s meaningful without knowing much o f i t yet, sure that scientists c a n find the answers, even if h e does not yet know the questions, sure that philosophers can b e answered, i f only they'd stop

asking questions. Even 1n this three-step sequence, we also recognize a general set o f

moves that is famihar t o us i n our reading; m o s t obviously, there is the shift from concern about the object (the existence and our knowledge o f things) t o the subject (our concern for ourselves) t o some new sense o f self-in-the-world, a n d indeed, for example, i n “Sense-

Certainty,” we find that Hegel pursues his arguments along just this pattern, first challenging one’s naive certainty o f the existence o f ob-

jects, then briefly challenging the certainty we supposedly have o f our o w n existence as particular subjects, then considering the u n i t y o f

experience as “my-immediate-awareness-of-this-object” (103f). The same pattern more loosely interpreted begins t o look like a common pattern in philosophical thinking i n general—a rather dogmatic assertion o f a position; the withdrawal o f the position as “just m y o w n

opinion,” and then the elaboration o f that opinion with reasons and arguments and a new kind o f confidence. This t u r n s o u t t o be the most essential pattern o f the “dialectic” o f the Phenomenology: a n attitude o f confidence, then confusion, withdrawal, desperation, o r doubt; finally a new reconciliation and confi-

dence. This pattern o f three should n o t be interpreted as “thesisantithesis-synthesis,” however, for only occasionally is the second phase literally the contradictory o r even a contrary o f the first, a n d the final stage 1s not always a synthesis o f the first two. I n d e e d , there are often four o r five steps i n the process, and, to make matters much more complicated, the pattern can b e found within stages o f the over-all pattern as well. For example, the general tenor o f “Self-Consciousness”

might be interpreted as a partial retreat from questions about knowledge as such—and Hegel and Schelling both so considered Fichte’s philosophy. Within “Self-Consciousness,” we find a progression from certainty (the cogito, Fichte’s intuition o f Self) t o the various dilemmas o f Master-Slave and Stoical despair and Skeptical doubts, t o “Unhappy Consciousness” (which is surely neither a synthesis nor a reconciliation, b u t only, as Hegel puts it, “the Master-Slave relationship within a single consciousness”). T h e reconciliation comes next, i n

Another Note on Reason and the Dialectic

477

“Reason,” with the sudden rejection o f just that distinction (between essential unchangeable self and inessential changing self) that made chapter 4 end so unhappily. Moreover, within those stages, there are parallel shifts too, for instance, the slave’s despair with his depen-

dency, followed by a first glimpse of independence, the Stoic’s suicidal despair turning into an abstract sense o f identity with “the True and the Good” (200), the various stages o f Christian consciousness from

devotion t o doubt, t o good works t o doubt again, to the wholesale despair o f asceticism and a sense o f salvation through Christ and the church. This is n o t t o say that any particular form o f consciousness need be readily identified as “confidence” or “despair” (“Unhappy Consciousness” is far more emotionally complex than that). But it is t o say that the pattern of m o v e m e n t between the steps i n the Phenomenology (and within sections as well) is discernible. I t is not, as it some-

times seems on an overview, arbitrariness or chaos. The pattern o f Hegel strategy can also be described i n terms o f an over-all tendency, a t every stage, t o move from the particular t o the general, to see a l l distinctions i n terms o f the larger context, to

define all individuals by reference t o the world in which they are found. I n Part A (“Consciousness”) this was most evident i n the move from “Sense-Certainty” a n d its ostensible particulars (“this”) to universal

properties and concepts. I n Part B (“Self-Consciousness”) the general move was from the particular selves o f inter-personal relationships t o the universal sense o f selfhood o f Christianity. I n Part C (“Reason”)

we shall see a series o f moves again from the individual and his o r h e r desires, needs, pleasures, and virtues to the larger context o f society a n d the social order, a n d finally, to a grand sense o f the unity o f

humanity writ cosmic as “Spirit.” The philosophical point that is made over and over again, albeit i n very different contexts and i n very different ways, is this: all distinctions, ultimately, are made by “the Concept,” that is, by us as well as within the world. There are no differences or distinctions except those which are bound by our concepts and by context. Much of Hegels sleight-of-pen can be appreciated quite easily i n the light o f this general point. However confusing it may be when he seems t o deny the reality of particulars or individuals or scientific laws, what he is actually doing is insisting on the contextual dependence o f these conceptions and their u t t e r arbitrariness apart from such contexts. But, at the same time, Hegel is always ar-

guing that the mere postulation of that over-all context—whether Fichte’s “self as everything” or Schelling’s “absolute Identity”—is equally empty and arbitrary without the distinctions that carve u p this whole

into meaningful conceptual units—objects, creatures, individual per-

478

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

sons, and communities. Thus we can understand the patterns i n the

Phenomenology i n another way, n o t only as moves from naive certainty to doubt to renewed reflective confidence, b u t as constant shiftings

back and forth across the conceptual backdrop of our experience, emphasizing now the representation as a whole and then highlighting

a particular feature, always pointing o u t the way that the particulars form the content o f the pattern as well as the way that the particulars

themselves are defined only by the patterns within which they immediately appear. This is n o t , perhaps, the rigorous logic that some commentators have hoped o r expected to find in the Phenomenology. B u t then again,

it is n o t uncommon t o believe, mistakenly, that Hegel's whole purpose is to reduce the complexity o f h u m a n experience to a single, simple

logical principle, which will emerge triumphantly a t the end of each of his books as “the Absolute”. But the much-touted “Absolute” is more of a principle of irreducible complexity than i t is the final solution t o the confusions of philosophy. The pattern i n the Phenomenology, while something less than a rigorous s e t o f deductions, is still m u c h more

ordered than arbitrary, and it does, if only one will allow for it, form an organic whole. As Hegel said o f history, “to him who looks a t the world rationally, the world looks rationally back”? So i t is t o o with a reading o f the Phenomenology. Regarding the overall s t r u c t u r e of Part “C” (“Reason”), the reader should again be forewarned that some very odd shifts are about to

take place. The seventh chapter on “Religion,” for example, explicitly begins the entire Phenomenology over again, and the extraordinary assortment

o f topics that make up Hegel’s ethics is peculiarly divided

between two different chapters, the first o f which is part o f the dis-

cussion o f the teleology of n a t u r e we just finished and the second of which includes ingredients that more plausibly belong t o the chapter o n “Religion.” I n d e e d , insofar as we seem forever compelled to out-

line books i n more o r less linear graphic images, one might suggest again that these various sections do n o t progress from one t o another so m u c h as overlap and t u r n back o n one another, like so many par-

allel layers of a Viennese torte. There is a progression, i f you like, o f a very general k i n d , which we can summarize in a phrase as a movement

from the individual

to

the universal, but any attempt

to

distin-

guish a straightforward movement from one step t o another—however these steps are interpreted—is more likely to d o Hegel a disservice

rather than clarify him. Indeed, by all accounts, it is a t this point (if 2.

Lectures o n the Philosophy o f History, I n t r o d u c t i o n ( “ R e a s o n i n H i s t o r y ” ) ,

p. 13.

Another Note on Reason and the Dialectic

479

not before) that the composition o f the Phenomenology turns to chaos, a collage o f ideas rather than a philosophical argument o f any kind. A n d yet, as i n the complex a n d chaotic canvas o f a Delacroix, there is yet a distinctive set o f motions and patterns, a singular theme a n d a readily identifiable representation—even if, o n a piecemeal analysis,

the Gestalt of this singular theme and readily identifiable representation might be almost impossible t o perceive.

Chapter Nine

Hegel's Ethics (chapter 5, parts B and C; chapter 6) Concrete ethics as [Hegel] expounds i t 1s part o f the life of the national community, and no national community is all-embracing. I t follows that, despite certain liberal elements i n his theory, Hegel is advocating a closed rather than an open morality. I f he is t o be consistent he m u s t demand that the moral agent be actuated by the thought o f the good of the fellow-members o f his group rather than that of men as men. He must stress virtues like loyalty and patriotism which r e s t on principles which c a n n o t be untversalized just because they involve a particular reference. And if he does that he faces the charge o f being a moral reactionary, whose theories c a n n o t expect t o get serious consideration from civilised persons. —W.H. Walsh, Hegelian Ethics

Hegel has a long-standing reputation as a moral and political reactionary, especially because o f the almost wholly unjustified polemic waged against him by Sir Karl Popper i n his Open Society and Its Enemies, i n the post-World War I I years.! I t is t r u e that Hegel defends certain theses abhorrent t o contemporary transcendental liberalism, for example, the importance o f patriotism and, vis-a-vis the state, the

relative unimportance o f any given individual. H e sees some virtue i n war, for which we express our unmitigated horror, and he defends as the central thesis o f his entire philosophy the view that morals are

a product o f and intelligible only i n the c o n t e x t o f a particular community, thus ignoring—though n o t denying—the comfortable pretense t h a t our morality, derived as i t is from G o d Himself, is t h e only p o s s i b l e morality.

I do n o t find this view “reactionary.”

It

is indeed a move backwards

from the view that I have called “the transcendental pretense”—the view t h a t o u r (European, mainly male, middle-class) morality is in1. Karl 1954).

P o p p e r , The O p e n Society a n d Its E n e m i e s

480

(London:

Routledge, Kegan

Paul,

Hegel’s Ethics

481

deed t h e o n l y code o f ethics w o r t h y o f the name.* B u t to correct excessive ethnocentrism hardly counts as mere “reaction”, m u c h less

should this more humble moral view be eschewed or ignored by “civilised persons.” I n fact, Hegel's ethics resembles nothing so much as the ethics o f Plato and Aristotle, a resemblance he points o u t for us himself i n his later Philosophy of Right.®> I t 1s a n elaborate description o f the actual ideals (though not, necessarily the common practice) o f

a particular society.* I t is n o t the attempt t o provide—as Kant had attempted t o provide—a single universal theory o f The Good and The Right, although m o s t o f what Hegel says obviously applies n o t only t o his particular niche in turn-of-the-nineteenth-century Middleclass E u r o p e a n c u l t u r e b u t more o r less to most m o d e r n states as well.

Ethics, for Hegel, is community ethics. As communities grow and consolidate into an international community—as they were doing so dramatically during the writing o f the Phenomenology—this ethics becomes more o r less a universal ethics. B u t that is a m a t t e r o f development, n o t a n a priori fact about morality—as Kant had argued. Ethics be-

gins—and ends—in the community; the universal moral law is a t

most

one o f its products, o r worse, the rules o f a single society t u r n e d i n t o stone tablets, to b e imposed o n everyone else, regardless o f local cus-

or cultural inclinations.? Ethics, the search for the good life and the conception of the ideal human community, spans virtually half of Hegel's Phenomenology, from “Reason” and “Rational Self-Consciousness” (347) t o “The Beautiful tom

Soul” (671), a n d this is n o t c o u n t i n g the whole o f chapter 4, which is

arguably “ethical” as well. I n Anglo-American philosophy, “ethics” 1s often equated with moral philosophy, as the study o f right and wrong. 2. I have argued this thesis a t length i n my History and Human Nature, p. xiiff. 3. H e g e l , Philosophy o f Right, trans. T . M . K n o x ( O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press, 1952),

p. 10. Unless otherwise noted, all numbers refer t o paragraphs, n o t pages. 4. Walsh, (Hegelian Ethics, N e w York: St. Martin’s Press, 1969) begins his good little

book with a distinction between Kant’s ethics o f moral advice and Hegel's ethics o f pure description (p. 6f.). H e qualifies this distinction, but I think i t is important to insist that neither Hegel n o r Plato a n d Aristotle be interpreted as merely descriptive o f actual

practices; they are describing ideals and therefore “giving advice,” a t least i n the sense o f reminding people what they i n fact do value, which is, o f course, what Kant claims t o be doing t o o . What is problematic here is n o t the difference i n ethical approaches between Kant and Hegel concerning prescription versus description but the glib distinction between “prescription and description” itself. 5. Thus I would disagree with Walsh’s negative conclusion that “Hegel's ethical theory, if carried t o its logical conclusion, involves the dissolution of ethics into sociology” (p. 95). What is “dissolved” is the pretense that the analysis o f one’s own moral formulae guarantees a n understanding o f the Good as such. This is not t o say that one is

limited

t o local values and c u s t o m s (or what is today usually called “moral relativism”) b u t i t is to insist t h a t t h e e x t e n s i o n o f one’s o w n values is a t least a n o p e n q u e s t i o n , n o t a n a p r i o r i a s s u r a n c e . ( T a l k i n g a b o u t “ m e n as m e n ” o r “ h u m a n n a t u r e ” o n l y p u s h e s

this p r o b l e m back o n e more step; i t i n n o way solves it.)

482

Hıtching the Highway ofDespair

I n German Idealism, o n the other hand, “ethics” (or Sittlichkeit) i n cludes questions o f morality as b u t one o f its elements; indeed, even

i n Kant, ethics as “practical reason” included n o t only questions o f

duty and happiness but the fundamental questions of theology and religious practice as well.® I n Fichte, whose whole philosophy was centered on the phenomenon o f “practical reason,” ethics even included knowledge a n d transcendental logic. So, for Hegel, the topic o f ethics

includes nothing less than the search for the good life, the concept o f community a n d the state, the formation o f modern society and the whole of history, as well as morality and much of what we would call

sociology and certain aspects of religious practice. I t will h e l p i f we repeat the outline o f these various “forms o f (eth-

ical) consciousness.” Immediately after the “phrenology” episode of chapter 5, i t begins;

(Chapter 5)

REASON

B. The actualization o f rational self-consciousness through its own activity

a. Pleasure and Necessity

b. The law o f the heart and the frenzy o f self-conceit c. Virtue and the way o f the world C. Individuality which takes itself

to

be real and for itself

a. T h e spiritual animal kingdom a n d deceit, o r “the m a t t e r i n

hand” itself b. Reason as lawgiver c. Reason as testing laws

SPIRIT

(Chapter 6)

A. The true Spirit. The ethical order a. T h e ethical world. H u m a n a n d Divine Law: M a n a n d Woman

b. Ethical action. Human and Divine knowledge. Guilt and Destiny c. Legal status

B.

Self-alienated

Spirit.

Culture

I . The world o f self-alienated Spirit a. Culture and its realm of actuality

b. Faith and pure insight

I I . The Enlightenment a. The struggle o f the Enlightenment with Superstition

b. T h e truth o f Enlightenment 111. Absolute F r e e d o m a n d Terror

6. This is particularly evident i n the

structure

o f the second Critique (of Practical

Reason) i n w h i c h t h e last full t h i r d is devoted to these questions, but i t is also present i n a m o r e m o d e s t w a y i n t h e final c h a p t e r o f h i s Foundations o f the Metaphysics o f Morals

(FMM) o f 1785—trans. L.W. Beck (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959). All references

Hegel's Ethics

C.

483

Spirit that is certain o f itself. Morality a. The moral view o f the world b. Dissemblance or duplicity c. Conscience. The ‘beautiful soul’, evil and its forgiveness

Sections B and C o f chapter 5 should probably best be viewed as more or less continuous with chapter 4 and “Unhappy Consciousness.” Their linkage t o section A (“Observing Reason”) has much more t o do with the s t r u c t u r e o f Kantian philosophy (the divisions of “theoretical and practical reason” as opposed t o mere “understanding”) than t o the s t r u c t u r e o f the arguments. The division between chapter 5 and chapter 6 lends itself t o a disastrous misunderstanding—namely t h a t individuality and rationality are possible prior t o membership i n a particular ethical community—which Hegel considers sheer nonsense.” Notice t o o that Kant’s morality appears twice—at the ends o f both chapters 5 and 6,® and notice t o o that chapter 6, which is o s t e n sibly historical, is by no means a complete outline o f Western history. I n fact, it 1s h a r d l y history a t all. T o p u t this enormous a m o u n t o f material i n order, three key terms a n d four ingredients should help us. T h e t e r m s are, first o f all, “ethics” o r Suttlichkeit, which might be translated simply as “communal life”;

“Spirit” or Geist, which for o u r purposes here we might think ofj u s t as “community spirit”, that familiar sense o f belonging; and, finally,

reason, or Vernunft, which here is always t o be taken as practical reason (insofar as “practical and “theoretical” can be distinguished properly at

all). A l l o f these terms are familiar t o us, the first from Hegel's

earlier writings, particularly the “Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate”

and “Natural Law,” the latter t w o from earlier parts o f the Phenomenology. I n a crude sense, the three are co-extensive, since i t is “Spirit”

that makes ethics possible and “reason” that defines the activity of Spirit (as “purposive activity,” Hegel told us, i n the Preface (22)). I n his separation o f “Reason” and “Spirit” into t w o chapters, Hegel gives the unfortunate impression that the first is strictly individual and the latter communal, b u t i t is i m p o r t a n t

to

remember that, despite He-

gels extremely awkward double numbering of the chapters, the “ C ” to Foundations . . . w i l l b e abbreviated F M M a n d refer to page numbers i n the original German edition by the Royal Prussian Academy i n Berlin, vol. 4 (1911) (bracketed in Beck).

7. This 1s Hegel's argument against all forms o f “social c o n t r a c t theory.” I n the PG, this begins i n chapter 4 with “Master-Slave” and continues through chapter 6. 8. T h e t h r e e sections o n K a n t , t h e t w o short sections i n “Reason,” a n d the l o n g a t the e n d o f “Spirit” correspond more o r less to the three chapters o f Kant’s F M M . T h e first i s a n analysis o f “ m o r a l i t y ” ; t h e s e c o n d i s a n a t t e m p t t o p r o v i d e e x a m p l e s a n d s h o w how moral l a w s a n d “ t h e c a t e g o r i c a l i m p e r a t i v e ” c a n be p u t t o use; t h e t h i r d i s a d i s c u s s i o n o f t h e p r e s u p p o s i t i o n s o r “ p o s t u l a t e s ” o f morality, i n c l u d i n g w h a t K a n t calls t h e “Summum B o n u m , ” t h e commensuration o f v i r t u e a n d happiness.

section

484

Hitching the Highway of Despair

part o f the Phenomenology i n fact includes everything from chapter 5 o n . One aspect o f reason Is its interpretation as a n individual faculty—

i n Kant, the faculty o f the universal within the individual. B u t this is precisely the view of Reason that Hegel rejects, insisting instead that individual reason is n o t only learned from but conceptually dependent upon membership i n a community, and this is precisely what Kant would have denied.® “Suttlichkeit”

Suttlichket 1s introduced into Hegel's early writings as a t e r m uniquely suited t o the community spirit o f the Greek polis and folk religion, in c o n t r a s t t o the individual and overly theoretical doctrines o f early Christianity. I n the “Natural Law” essay, Suttlichkeit is used in contrast t o Kant’s concept o f “morality,” and as a synthesis o f Fichte’s intolerable t e n s i o n b e t w e e n morality, o n t h e o n e h a n d , a n d l a w o n t h e other.

Suttlichkeit consists mainly o f community practices, rituals, unspoken as well as explicit rules and roles into which every community mem-

ber is born and i n t e r m s o f which he or she defines n o t only selfidentity but the seemingly absolute order of the world. Thus, i n Hegel’s early writings, i t is Sittlichkeit that, i n effect, invents and projects God and gods for its own purposes. I n modern society, i t 1s Sittlichkeit that has invented individualism a n d what we (ä la Kant) call “ m o -

rality,” which i n fact is a merely formal canonization o f a few o f the implicit rules which delimit o u r social practices. For o u r purposes here, i t is most important t o remember that Sittlichkeit o r “ethics” includes virtually everything t h a t bonds a commu-

nity together, family feelings, sex, revolutionary ideologies, cocktail party conversation, even hypocrisy (insofar as hypocrisy presupposes a shared sense o f correctness which can be mocked and violated). I t

is this concept that explains the odd a s s o r t m e n t of inclusions i n chapt e r 6, for i t is necessary t o understand the ethics of a people just as much in t e r m s o f their history and family life as it is i n t e r m s of the tablet o f judgments which they have elevated t o divine moral status. I t is this that would so horrity Kant, o f course. Kant would analyze the Ten Commandments as a list o f categorical imperatives, defensi-

ble by pure practical reason. Hegel would ignore such purely formal analysis altogether and look instead a t the whole history o f the He9. “ I f the will seeks the law that is t o determine i t anywhere else than i n the fitness

of its maxims for its own making o f universal law—the result is always heteronomy. I n that case the will does n o t give itself the law . . . (but rather) an alien interest” (FMM,

88-89).

Hegel’s Ethics

485

brews, their political fortunes a n d social necessities and, i n particular,

the socio-psychological hypothesis that the very paternal social strucof the Jews required them t o project an external authority, whether

ture

G o d Himself o r the abstract laws supposedly given to Moses b y Him.1? B u t this t o o is Sittlichkeit, even if it is n o t , for most philosophers, “ m o rality”. Siuttlichkeit is the whole social fabric; morality is at most a few

key threads that may—or may not—hold the gether.

rest

o f the fabric

to-

“Spirit” A t the very beginning of chapter 6, Hegel tells us that “true Spirit” (der wahre Geist) is Sittlichkeit (which Miller and Baillie translate as “eth-

ical order”). The immediate contrast here 1s Hegel's discussion of Kant’s concept o f “morality,” but the more general contrast is with the whole tradition o f individualism, i n c l u d i n g n o t only Kant’s notion o f indi-

vidual rational autonomy but even the “state o f nature” allegories o f Hobbes and Rousseau, in which fully formed but isolated individuals m e e t and fight and, i n Hegel’s Fichtean rendition, emerge n o t with a social contract b u t as master and slave. “Spirit” is that primary sense

o f unity within which the formal rules o f morality are given their meaning, within which the various attempts are made to p u t the com-

munity into order and form a government, within which the various individuals gain their identity and are enabled t o claim rights for themselves and recognize their duties. By the end o f the Phenomenology, Geist o r Spirit will have become elevated (or aufgehoben) t o the status o f the Absolute, t o a more or less “divine” principle operating through all o f us and using us for its purposes. But this grand metaphor o f Holderlin’s is n o t yet appropriate a t this point i n the Phenomenology, and “Spirit” is perfectly secular and familiar; i t refers t o that shared sense of community, whether i n the intimacy of the family or the alienated abstractions of the Roman Empire and the modern state. I t is a t every point t o be contrasted with that false sense o f a u t o n o mous individuality—Individuals as a t o m s o u t o f which the complex molecule, the community, a n d then the State, are formed.

“Reason” “Reason” and “rationality” have so many meanings in Hegel that the terms are all b u t useless i n t h e abstract. I n general, “reason” means 10. This was Hegel's hypothesis i n his early essays, the starting point o f both his Positivity-essay a n d his “Spirit o f Christianity a n d I t s Fate” ( i n K n o x , Early Theo. Mss.).

486

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

only “having a purpose,” and 1s contrasted with very little except, per-

haps, more specific and overly theoretical interpretations o f reason (us. “understanding”) which lose this grand generality. I n the chapter o n “Reason” (chapter 5), “reason” refers t o a sense o f unity, between

“subject and object” i n the jargon o f the times, and this is the meaning that Hegel had learned from Kant and Schelling, i n particular. Thus, i n the first t h i r d o f that chapter (“Observing Reason”) Hegel gives us

his “Philosophy o f Nature”, i n which the Schellingian point 1s made that we can understand nature because we are at one w i t h i t ; nature's l a w s a r e o u r l a w s too ( o r r a t h e r , n a t u r e d e r i v e s i t s l a w s , ultimately,

through concepts). I n the second and third parts o f that chapter, “reason” refers rather t o the various efforts of individuals t o exercise their supposed rational autonomy (that is, their ability t o find or figure o u t for themselves how t o live). I n the first part, i t 1s the purpose (or “teleology”) o f n a t u r e that is i n question; i n the second a n d t h i r d parts, i t is the purpose o f individual life t h a t is the problem. As we

move on t o “Spirit” and then “Religion,” i t is the purpose of life i n general that becomes the issue. Stylistic appearances aside, Hegel's question throughout these chapters is essentially a Socratic question—how to live the good life. T h a t search, i n a word, is reason (as in,

“reason for living.”) The four ingredients in this assortment of considerations called “ethics” might all be considered part o f Hegel's increasing interest i n history and the philosophy o f history, but i t is n o t essential t o list them historically as such. They are, Aristotle and the Greek polis. Jesus and the Spirit o f Christianity. The French Revolution and the Enlightenment. Kant’s concept o f morality (and Fichte’s derivations from it.)

Aristotle a n d the Greek Polis

We have linked together Hegel and Aristotle i n other connections too—in t e r m s o f their teleological conception o f n a t u r e and the overall picture o f the cosmos as the self-realization o f what Hegel (not

Aristotle) calls “Spirit.” But the linkage is nowhere more profound or revealing than in the realm of “ethics.” Indeed, one might split the whole history o f ethics into t w o camps—one o f which is exemplified by Aristotle and his Nicomachean Ethics''—the other represented by 11. A n s t o t l e , Nicomachean Ethics (Ethics), trans W.D. Ross ( O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press,

1954).

487

Hegel’s Ethics

K a n t a n d his Critique o f Practical Reason. (Nietzsche d i v i d e d the whole

o f the “genealogy” o f morals into just this contrast, and called the t w o camps “master morality” and “slave morality,” respectively.) I n Aristotle’s Ethics, which 1s essentially a report o f the consensus o f his fellows o n the mores a n d morals o f the times, i n d i v i d u a l interest a n d

community interest are always identical and the key

to

moral good-

ness is the concept o f excellence. T h e “good life,” h e tells us, 1s the life o f activity i n accordance w i t h reason, which is called virtue.!* I n Kant’s morality o f practical reason, o n the o t h e r h a n d , the key t e r m is duty, and the central concept is autonomy, which is precisely t o say that mo-

rality is n o t synonymous or even co-extensive with community inter-

ests or, for that matter, w i t h self-interest e i t h e r . ’ T h e categorical ım-

peratives that constitute Kant’s moral laws are for the most part negative commandments (“thou shalt n o t . . . ”), and the good man is one who

abstains from wrong actions as well as performs his duties. One might say, limply, that the difference here is a matter o f emphasis, but, except i n some very extreme cases, ethics «ss a question o f emphasis. T h e

emphasis i n Aristotle is all o n activity and excellence, membership i n the community with honor among one’s fellows as a key virtue. The emphasis i n Kant is all on duty and obeying the rules as an individual, regardless o f the consequences and divorced from any sense o f community. Indeed, the good man for Kant would n o t be Aristotle’ jolly warrior-statesman but the local grocer or bank clerk who does n o t cheat his customers, w h o does n o t lie, o r steal, o r kill. (Nietzsche: “so i t 1s that the good m a n is the emasculated man, the m a n who has n o desires.” 1 4 ) Hegel's ethics, from his v e r y first essay o n “folk r e l i g i o n ” i n 1793 (and even before that, according t o Harris!®) t o the Philosophy ofRight

and the lectures o n “Objective S p i r i t ” in the 1820s, looks back to the

communal sense of belonging o f Aristotle’s polis and contrasts it with the “alienated” individualism o f the m o d e r n state. ( I n the Phenome-

nology, and indeed i n his early studies, he tends t o identify this sense o f “alienation” with large states i n general, and he locates its first historical manifestation in the abstract law-bound character o f the Rom a n Empire (477-83).) T h e emphasis is o n activity and self-realization

(which always means, within and for the benefit o f community) instead o f Kantian duty and moral principles. I t 1s i n this light that the odd and misleading progression from individual attempts a t the good 12. Anstotle, Ethics. Books I and 11, esp. Book I I , chs. 5-7. 13. FMM, pp. 393-97. 14. Antichrist, (trans. Kaufmann, Viking Portable Nietzsche, 1954) 147. 1 5 . Harris, Hegel's Development, p . 76.

488

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

life i n chapter 5 (“Reason”) t o the primitive family and community life that commences chapter 6 (“Spirit”) can be explained: all of the sophistication o f Kant’s morality, as the high point o f a long tradition of ethics, is still inferior t o the m o s t primitive sense of belonging. Jesus a n d the Spirit o f Christianity

Hegel’s concern with the personality o f Jesus and the spirit o f Christianity, o f course, is his m o s t enduring interest, i f n o t the key t o his entire philosophy.!® We have already dealt with the spirit o f Christianity in a negative way, however, i n “the Unhappy Consciousness” i n chapter 4, b u t there is m o r e to come, i n chapter 7 (“Religion”) naturally, b u t also, I w i l l argue, i n chapter 6 , where the moral personality

of Jesus appears as “the beautiful soul” a t the very end of that chapter. I n his first writings, both Jesus and Christianity were compared m o s t unfavorably with Greek ethics and folk-religion. Later on, Hegel tried t o integrate Jesus’ message and Kant’s morality (in the “Life o f Jesus” in 1795) and, finally, a t the t u r n o f the century, he tried t o resurrect what h e considered to b e t h e “Spirit” o f Christianity i n a

short-lived theory o f “love,” then i n philosophy, beginning with “Faith and Knowledge” i n 1803. The “ethics” i n the Phenomenology makes little mention o f Jesus; indeed everything there is compatible with an atheistic world-outlook, despite the belligerent middle section o n

“Enlightenment,” i n which all o f Hegel's old arguments and prejudices surface once again, contrasting the cold secular reason of the Aufklärung with the spiritualism of religion, much t o the former's disadvantage. I f Christianity plays a role i n Hegel's ethics at all, i t is only a t the very end, where the historical Jesus is brought in as a transition

figure t o the discussion o f “Religion” in general. And yet, i t is always there, as the backdrop of the discussion. The French Revolution a n d the Enlightenment T h e F r e n c h R e v o l u t i o n , o f c o u r s e , was the traumatic e v e n t o f Hegel's

political youth. The revolution began as Hegel started college a t the Tubingen Stift, and “the Terror” was a t its height when Hegel graduated. F o r any sensitive thi nke r o f the times, the revolution was the issue; what d i d it mean? Was the conclusion, as Metternich a n d the other reactionaries o f post-Napoleonic era argued, that liberalism and

individual liberties were dangerous and

to

be suppressed? O r did it

16. See Harris, p . 267ff., a n d o f course t h e traditional British Hegelians, particul a r l y M c T a g g a r t (Studies i n Hegelian Cosmology) a n d S t e r l i n g ( T h e Secret o f Hegel).

Hegel’s Ethics

489

mean, as Schiller h a d argued, that the French as a people were n o t yet morally advanced e n o u g h to b e able to handle the awesome re-

sponsibilities of freedom? Were terror and anarchy an inevitable stage i n any revolution? A n d was i t only a stage—or was i t the essence o f revolution as such? A n d i f one were t o look a t the Enlightenment and

French Revolution as the culmination o f the spirit o f individual moral autonomy a n d t h e search for secular happiness ( o r what Hegel some-

times calls “eudaimonism”'”), then the question takes on direct relevance to Hegel's concept o f Sittlichkeit. Does the notion o f individual autonomy and the search for happiness even make sense apart from a harmonious, established, a n d d u r a b l e social o r d e r ? C a n one, i n t h e

name o f individual liberty, destroy society without destroying liberty and morality too? For Hegel, the French Revolution was the reductio ad absurdum of the Enlightenment, the bloody demonstration o f what can happen when the philosophical concepts o f “freedom” and “ra-

tional autonomy” are misunderstood.

Kant’s Concept o f Morality

Kant’s morality, o f course, provided the thematic core o f Hegel's early writings—at least that central Kantian premise of practical reason, i n Hegel's words: “the aim and essence o f all t r u e religion, . . . is human morality.” !'®* But Hegel’s knowledge and interest in Kant’s philosophy were skimpy, at best, a n d until the late 1790s, h e seemed comfortable o n l y w i t h Kant’s t h e o r y o f r e l i g i o n . I n

1798, however,

he undertook

a detailed study a n d commentary o n Kant’s Metaphysics of Morals a n d

it 1s evident that, by the time he started writing the Phenomenology, he understood and had radically departed from Kantian ethics. I n his earliest writings, Hegel seemed t o assume that Kant, Jesus, and the Greek polis were all expressions o f a single ideal. By the essay on “The Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate” i n 1799 he had obviously turned against Kant’s notion o f morality i n favor o f his own concept of Sutlichkeit. He rejected i n particular the bloodlessly formal s t r u c t u r e o f Kant’s theory, i n which principles (“laws”) alone formed the basis o f morality, apart from any o r communal concerns and apart from

public

the interpersonal interactions which gave these principles their moral 17. H e uses the word mainly i n “Faith and Knowledge” t o criticize Enlightenment secularism and the search for purely worldly happiness. The t e r m comes from the Greek eudaimonia and was famously used by Aristotle; i t is loosely translated “happiness,” b u t better as “ d o i n g well” However, i t 1s n o t Aristotle’s concept t h a t Hegel is

employing here. 18. Positivity-essay, Early Theo. Mss., p. 58.

490

Hitchung the Highway ofDespair

significance. The contrast, again, is with Aristotle, who makes it quite clear from the beginning of his Ethics that the key t o moral virtue is a good upbringing i n a good family and that the virtues are o f n o significance whatsoever to someone w h o is n o t already a p a r t o f that

community. I n the chapter o n “Individuality,” Hegel repeats his pri-

mary objections

to

Kant’s formalism, i n particular, the charge that

formal principles d o n o t provide us with any c o n c r e t e guides to ac-

tion. I n the section on “Morality” that ends chapter 6, on the other hand, he attacks Kant’s over-all view o f religion and its connection t o morality (as “a postulate of practical reason”), thus reversing the stand which he assumed in his earlier writings of the 1790s. I n what follows, I have tried t o follow Hegels order as much as possible. T h e discussion covers the last two-thirds o f chapter 5 o n

“Reason” and the whole o f chapter 6. I have also brought i n comparisons and c o n t r a s t s from Hegel's later philosophy of history and political philosophy (in particular the Philosophy of Right o f 1820) but I d o n o t m e a n to i m p l y at any point that the Phenomenology ( o r these

sections of it) is t o be construed as a miniature philosophy o f history or “philosophy o f right.” Indeed, what is remarkable is t h a t these t w o topics, which were so i m p o r t a n t to Hegel even in 1806, should n o t

have found greater expression i n the Phenomenology.

a. The Meaning of Life and the Search for Spirit: A Synopsis To begin with, this Reason is aware o f itself merely as an individual a n d as such m u s t d e m a n d a n d produce its reality i n a n ‘other’. Then, however, its consciousness having raised itself i n t o universality, 1t be-

comes universal Reason, and recognized i n and for itself, which i n its

pure consciousness unites all self-consciousnesses. I t is the simple, spiritual essence which, i n attaining consciousness, 1s a t the same time real Substance, into which the earlier forms r e t u r n as their ground . . . —Phenomenology (348)

Given the complexity of the work

to

follow, perhaps i t would be best

to begin with a simple summary and synopsis o f the some 200 pages

that constitute Hegel’s ethics. First, the summary: Hegel's conception o f ethics, like Aristotle's and like Rousseau’, consists o f a single all-embracing concept o f community o r polis, in

which every citizen lives “in and with and for one’s people”.!’® The 19. “ N a t u r a l L a w ” essay, p . 100.

Hegel's Ethics

491

antithesis o f this conception o f ethics is modern Christian “bourgeois” ethics, i n which public and private life are firmly distinguished, i n which personal virtue and community values are distinct if n o t some-

times opposed, in which individual interests and the interests o f others are assumed from the outset to b e in a state o f perpetual antago-

nism, t o be reconciled by the State, whose primary function is t o enforce c o n t r a c t s and keep peace among its constituents’. I n Aristotle, the subject matter of ethics was indistinguishable from the subject m a t t e r of politeuein, and in Rousseau t o o , civil society was itself envisioned as the school in which individual culture and virtue could be cultivated. I n d e e d , Rousseau h a d complained, in The Social Contract, that such

words as “citizen” had lost so much of their meaning in modern society that they should be extinguished from the (French) language.?! Part o f Hegel's metaphysical rejection o f the concept o f “soul” was his insistence o n the fact that there is n o “self” i n any sense before interpersonal interaction, and it w o u l d n o t b e inaccurate to view the entire

Phenomenology as a plea for unity, in which the particular is always defined i n t e r m s o f the universal, i n which individual identity—uvirtue, happiness, and meaning—is always a function o f the over-all community i n w h i c h p e r s o n s a r e citizens.*?

The strategy o f these chapters, therefore, is t o show that every variety of individual pleasure and virtue, even including the individual recognition o f the universal principles of Kantian morality, and every concept o f society and culture that continues t o look a t the individual as its essence, Is self-defeating if not—usually i n some practical sense—

contradictory (357-59). Thus despite the variety o f ethical, historical, and quasi-religious issues raised here, the over-all argument is remarkably single-minded: t o show that individuality i n every way presupposes an ethical order, and that ethical order, o r “Spirit,” is indispensable (350-55). Individuals, on the other hand, are quite dispensable, and so (given certain debatable arguments that Hegel

had held since his earliest essays) individual virtue and happiness cannot be the meaning o f life o r the t r u e meaning o f “Spirit” (350), whatever our personal outlook on these matters. The synopsis: First, Hegel quickly makes his main point—that individual exis20. See, e.g., R. Nozick, Anarchy, State and Utopia (New York: Basic Books, 1974), who argues an e x t r e m e version o f this minimal conception o f the s t a t e on the basis o f alleged “natural nights o f individuals”; this “rights” view has been used t o defend a wide spectrum o f political views, from anarchism t o liberalism t o some forms o f au-

thoritarianism, but for Hegel, “rights” are derived from the s t a t e and n o t prior t o it. 21. For a good discussion, see Roger Masters, The Political Philosophy ofJean-Jacques Rousseau (Princeton: P r i n c e t o n U n i v . Press, 1968), p . 54.

22. Charles Taylor, Hegel and Modern Society (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1978).

492

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

tence 1s significant only within the c o n t e x t o f Sittlichkeit, an organized social unity (349-54). But having said this so quickly, he then proceeds t o consider various ethical theories, and in particular those which ignore this basic point and pretend—to their detriment—that the search

for the good life is strictly an individual matter. His argument against

them 1s that any breach i n the social fabric is ultimately self-destructive, even if, as in Kant, this breach is itself in the name o f universal m o -

rality. Then, making the shift

to

Sittlichkeit, Hegel considers a breach

i n the social fabric o f a different k i n d , o r what h e calls “alienation”

(Entfremdung). These schizoid ethical theories may also involve individualism but, more generally, they involve an essential rupture in the very conception o f society as such. The arguments against individualism and “individuality” begin, naturally enough, with that m o s t common o f sophomoric philosophies, hedonism o r the life o f pleasure. T h e arguments are largely

borrowed from Plato and Aristotle and authors o f modern times: the conclusion (as i n the master side o f “Master and Slave”) is that the

search for pure pleasure becomes jaded and insatiable, and one soon becomes the slave o f one’s desires instead of the master of one’s fate. The rejection o f hedonism quite “naturally” t u r n s t o an attitude of self-righteous self-denial, n o t the extreme denial o f asceticism (as in

“Unhappy Consciousness”) but the identifiably romantic sense o f “inn e r goodness” that one finds i n Rousseau, i n Emile and, more clearly

and perversely, in Rousseau’s Confessions.?® But such “inner goodness” finds it hard t o adjust itself t o the temptations of the ways o f the world, and so, as in Rousseau’s Confessions, this inner virtue finds itself wholly c u t off from the w o r l d b u t at the same time caught u p i n its vices. This gives rise t o a sense o f impotence and not infrequent hy-

pocrisy, and the reason—so evident i n Rousseau—is the refusal o f this supposedly “rational” individual t o recognize himself o r herself as a n intrinsic p a r t o f a community, in which pleasures are n o t merely

individual and virtue n o t an “inner” state but an outward s e t o f social activities. I t remains strictly on the level o f the individual personality and its needs and supposed virtues, but fails t o see beyond itself t o the social source o f these needs and virtues. The n e x t alternative view, therefore, 1s a t u r n t o what would appear t o be a social c o n t e x t within which pleasures and virtues are socially derived and socially directed, but the c o n t e x t is bogus and the “society” i n fact n o society at all, rather m o r e o f a zoo, filled with individ-

ual “animals” each in their separate cages and with no community 23. Rousseau, Confessions, t r a n s . John M . Cohen (London: Penguin, 1954).

Hegel's Ethics

493

“ s p i r i t ” whatsoever. B u t it is community spirit that makes a community, n o t a mere collection o f individuals. I t is n o t difficult to recognize

here Hegel's borrowing from Rousseau once again, this time i n a critical mode, and the “zoo” is i n fact bourgeous society. The French, Rousseau had complained, “mistake a t o w n for a City and a bourgeois for

a citizen.”?* Findlay offers u p the amusing analog o f an academic community here,” b u t what is this but the m o s t blatant example o f the bourgeois community o f feigned fraternity and internecine rivalry, in which interpersonal antagonisms are thinly masked behind a veneer o f shared standards and interests? T h e zoo appears t o be a

social entity, but in fact i t is n o t this a t all. I t is unabashed individuality, modified only by the fact that i t recognizes, a t least, the pseudo-social interpersonal c o n t e x t which that individuality needs t o function. Instead o f taking the t u r n t o social life and ethics proper a t this point, Hegel remains faithful t o the historical-philosophical developm e n t h e would have k n o w n best—namely, from Rousseau and bour-

geois society t o Rousseau’s foremost German admirer, Kant. I t was well known that Kant praised Rousseau’s contributions t o ethics above all else and even compared Rousseau’s moral theories t o Newton's theories i n physics.26 Where Rousseau had used a “synthetic” method o f understanding the origin o f morals (that is, t h r o u g h his fiction o f

the “state of nature” and man’s “natural inner goodness”), Kant would use a n “analytic” m e t h o d to understand the nature o f m o r a l goodness as such. B u t t h e “ i n n e r ” m e t a p h o r w o u l d remain wholly intact, except that, where Rousseau considered this “ i n n e r virtue” to b e a property o f every individual (especially himself), Kant viewed the same source

of virtue as rational autonomy—the faculty o f practical reason. I n o f Hegel's over-all strategy, moving away from the particular

terms

toward the universal, Kant’s derivations from Rousseau have one de-

cided advantage: the products o f practical reason are universal principles, valid n o t only for the individual who formulates them i n any particular instance but rather “for all rational creatures.” I t is this universality that puts K a n t o n the brink o f the realization o f “Spirit,” b u t his insistence o n individual autonomy keeps h i m away from it.

N o w is the time for the social t u r n , the t u r n from Kant’s morality to Suttlichkeit o r “ethics,” the t u r n from individuality “in a n d for itself” t o “Spirit.” Chapter 6 (“Spirit”) begins again with Rousseau, but Fichte’s ethics are also much i n evidence here, and the presentation 1s com2 4 . Rousseau, Social Contract trans. Charles Sherover ( N e w York: N e w A m e r i c a n

Library, 1974). 25. Findlay, Hegel p. 111. 26. Q u o t e d b y Cassirer i n Goethe, Kant, Rousseau (Princeton: Princeton Univ. Press, 1970).

494

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

parable i n its content t o Hegel’s own System ofEthical Life o f 1802-3.27 I t begins, as Rousseau’s Social Contract begins, with the recognition

that “the m o s t ancient of all societies, and the only one that is natural, is the family.”8 I n his early System, Hegel introduces the notion o f sex and the family as the “supreme organic polarity” and “the supreme unity,” with the parents functioning as “ t h e universal” which cancels

the “external negativity o f the child.”*® This thorny language is reiterated i n the Phenomenology but as “the simple and immediate essence of the ethical sphere; as actual universality . . . a force actively opposed t o individual being-for-selt” (449). “The Family”, Hegel tells us, Is “the unconscious, still inner concept, . . . the element o f a people’s*® actual existence, the immediate being o f Sittlichkeit” (450). B u t the family, for Hegel as for Rousseau, is n o t yet society as such, and the road to

community is n o t merely a matter o f expansion from small groups

to larger tribes to states, as Rousseau seemed to suggest i n his second

Discourse (On the Origins ofInequality).®' Though the family is the “element” o f a people (nation), that is n o guarantee that their relationship will be harmonious or mutually supportive. Indeed, the origin o f modern society, Hegel tells us, lies i n the tragic conflict between family and community, just as the origin o f personhood is i n the conflict o f master and slave. Hegels example here is Antigone, who is torn between “the Divine Law” o f family unity and the “Human Law” of society and social obedience. T h e direction o f movement, here as al-

ways i n these chapters, is toward greater generality, i n which the family becomes absorbed (but by n o means eliminated) i n the larger community and, finally, i n the first enormous ancient state—the Roman Empire, i n which personal relationships and “immediate unity” are necessarily replaced by the impersonality o f universal laws.3? This transition from immediate family t o the prototype of the mode r n bureaucratic state is p a r t history, p a r t fiction, b u t mainly, i t is a

conceptual juxtaposition o f various concepts o f “Spirit.” Hegel is n o t here claiming the historical truth of Antigone, any more than he would have claimed historical accuracy for his “Master-Slave” parable or 27. System of Ethical Life, trans. Harris a n d K n o x , p p . 99-179. 2 8 . Social Contract, p . 1 .

29. System, pp. 110-11. 30. “Volk,” w h i c h Miller translates as “ n a t i o n . ”

31. Cf. Hegel's Philosophy of Right, 1181: “the family disintegrates . . . into a plurality o f families.” 32. 1t is i m p o r t a n t t o stress that i t 1s t h e e n o r m o u s state that is crucial here, t h e

attempt t o integrate a variety o f nationalities and peoples under a single set of laws. Thus Alexander's empire and the v a s t holdings o f the ancient Persians, for example, w o u l d n o t c o u n t as “ s t a t e s , ” e v e n d e s p i t e Alexander's attempts t o s p r e a d G r e e k culture

wherever he went.

Hegel's Ethics

495

Rousseau would have insisted that his “state of nature” was anything more than imaginative fiction. (“First, let’s ignore the facts,” h e famously suggested.)®3> Presumably there was some such progression

from “primitive” family and tribal life t o the bureacratic state, and so i t m u s t n o t be thought that the transitions here are entirely nonhistorical. Here we m e e t with the central principle o f Hegel's philosophy o f history, which would n o t be published until years later as the introduction t o his Lectures on the Philosophy of History; t h a t principle is that “Reason governs the world and has consequently governed history”.3* B u t Hegel also promises us there that “to h i m who looks a t the world rationally the world looks rationally back,’ which is t o say that t h e philosophical a p p r o a c h to history, for Hegel, is a partic-

ularly selective and interpretative process. What is essential is n o t the infinite array o f contingent details that make u p what he gruesomely calls “the slaughter-bench o f history”>¢ but the pattern o f divine selfrealization those details follow.?” I n the later Lectures, this pattern is

the emergence o f universal freedom, but here i n the Phenomenology it might better be described as the emergence of universal Spirit (though i t 1s sometimes apparent that these are m o r e o r less the same). T h e

“reason” that Hegel finds i n the quasi-history o f the “Spirit” section o f the Phenomenology is, in other words, the realization o f Spirit itself,

the increasing m o v e m e n t from merely implicit unity i n the “primitive” family or tribe t o the fully explicit concept o f legal citizenship i n the Roman Republic. I t is worth noting, however, that Hegel’s own ideal community—the polis—does n o t appear i n this progression, an odd fact indeed for anyone who wishes t o see this chapter as Hegel's philosophy o f history as such. A n d what follows is a n even more glar-

ing omission—the entire “middle ages” from the decline and fall o f the Roman Empire t o the German Reformation a t the t u r n of the 16th Century. One might argue that medieval Christianity has already been covered i n the “Unhappy Consciousness,” but the omission of Athens a t the height o f its development should show once and for all that this is in n o literal sense history for Hegel, b u t rather a

progression o f conceptual forms which as a matter o f fact have had 33. A t the beginning o f his second Discourse. 34. The introduction is translated as “Reason in History” by Robert S. Hartman (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953), p . 34.

35. Ibid. 13. 36. Ibid. 27. 37. O n page 18 he suggests that his project m i g h t accordingly be viewed as a “theo-

dicy”—a tracing o f the ways o f God i n the world. 38. Cf. Philosophy of Right, 105: “Ethical life is the Idea o f Freedom i n that o n the one h a n d i t is the good come alive . . . T h u s ethical life is the concept o f freedom

developed into the existing world and the nature o f self-consciousness.”

496

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

distinctive historical manifestations. That progression o f forms i n this instance concerns a single concept—the antithesis (but also tne presupposition) o f the realization o f spiritual unity—namely, what Hegel calls “alienation” (entfremdung). Greece is left o u t o f the picture for a simple reason—it was not, i n Hegel's vision o f the polis, alienated. T h e

medieval period is left o u t t o o because (in Hegel's biased opinion) it was n o t enough o f a social and spiritual entity t o deserve being called “alienated.” This is, o f course, historical nonsense, but Hegel's systematic distortion and exclusion o f the medieval period was both in line with his Enlightenment prejudices and i n keeping with his general distain o f the “Gothic” thinking o f the Romantic poets and critics who surrounded him. Hegel, like m o s t o f his contemporaries, (and this was true until very recently) tended t o view the Christian history o f

the West from (approximately) 500 A.D. t o the Reformation i n 1507 as something o f a wholly static, largely brutal period defined with only inessential variations by the themes o f faith, feudalism, and unenlightened despotism. With the m o d e r n period, however, comes a new concept—the con-

cept o f Bildung or “culture.” Hegel is here again reflecting the dominant prejudice of the Enlightenment, that “progress” begins only with the modern era,?? but his view o f “Bildung” here is hardly unqualified celebration: he sees “culture” as instrumental t o “alienation” and the

opposition o f “culture” and religion as ultimately detrimental. This was, we remember, the central lament o f Hegel’s earlier essay, “Faith and Knowledge” too, and his criticisms o f the Enlightenment are once

again repeated here. The fact that Hegel himself was mainly a produ c t o f that same movement should n o t deter us from appreciating the

depth o f his objections—which largely are objections

to

the calculat-

i n g utilitarianism o f that movement, as i f one could construct the ideal community from a mere philosophical blueprint.4® H e does recognize what h e calls “ t h e t r u t h o f Enlightenment,” however more modest this

may be than the pictures o f “paradise on earth” which had been 3 9 . T h i s v i e w h a s b e e n c h a l l e n g e d b y R o b e r t Nisbet i n h i s History o f the Idea o f Pro-

gress (New York: Basic Books, 1979), i n which he suggests the notion o f progress is

already firmly entrenched i n the great medieval philosophers, and i n particular, Auustine.

i 40. T h e idea that a thinker wholly immersed i n a way o f thinking might also be a harsh critic o f that same way o f thinking surprisingly surprises some scholars, especially when discussing Hegel. B u t i n a world i n which intellectuals are constantly demeaning

(in brilliant discourses) their own intellectual presumptions, I c a n n o t imagine why this would surprise anyone or strike one as the least bit inconsistent. Hegel was a thoroughly “enlightened” thinker, a n d as such was one o f Enhghtenment’s harshest critics—from

the inside.

Hegel's Ethics

497

promised by some o f the French philosophers.*! The end o f Enlightenment, in case we needed to b e reminded, is not yet paradise o n earth but sheer terror, a n d h e r e H e g e l makes one o f the few strictly

historical moves i n the Phenomenology: from Enlightenment t o the French Revolution and the Terror o f 1792-95. B u t , o f course, the

historical move displays a conceptual point too—that freedom, when “absolute,” t u r n s o u t n o t t o be freedom at all. O r more t o the point of the over-all strategy, individual liberties defended a t the c o s t o f the social order i n general are utterly impossible, but absolute freedom exercised at the cost o f so many individual lives is intolerable. Free-

dom presupposes, i t cannot be opposed t o , a stable society. Where would one go from here? I f it were history, there could be n o doubt—to Napoleon and the internationalization o f the Revolu-

tion. I f it were politics o r a proto-Philosophy of Right, we would have to move o n t o a renewed social contract o r the establishment o f a

constitutional state. What we find is neither o f these, nor any vague semblance o f t h e m ; what we find is a return to Kant and his theories o f practical reason. I n other words, from t h e French Revolution and

the Terror we move n o t forward in history but sidewards into Germany, where the only revolution outside the student Jacobin clubs was Kant’s “Copernican Revolution.” But the discussion o f Kant here is not at a l l revolutionary; it is rather Kant’s argument for the harmony

o f virtue and happiness—justice in doing one’s duty, or what he called the Summum Bonum.*? I n more religious terms, philosophers have often raised the so-called “problem of evil’—in other words, how is i t possible that there b e a G o d w h o guarantees justice in the world but at

the same time allows there

to

be unjust suffering and evil? For the

purposes o f Kant’s morality, the problem is rather more o f a formal

paradox: how is it possible for the good person t o act “for the sake of duty alone” i f h e o r she cannot b e assured at the same time o f not putting oneself a t a disadvantage b y doing so? T h e traditional answer

both questions is the invocation of the rewards and punishments of the afterlife. This is an answer which Hegel rejects entirely. I n the deliberations which follow, Hegel also rejects the various replies that one finds of a more secular and less religious persuasion, including to

41. Condorcet: " O u r hopes for the future condition o f the h u m a n race can be sub-

sumed under three important heads: the abolition o f inequality between nations, the progress of equality within each nation, and the t r u e perfection of mankind” (Sketch for a Historical Picture o f the Progress o f the Human Mind, i n Gardiner (ed.), Philosophies o f History. N e w York: F r e e Press, 1969).

42. Kant’s discussion is i n Book I I o f the second Critique, also in his Religion Within the Bounds of Reason Alone; the word thus used applies to this particular doctrine, not just “ t h e highest good.” See the present Chapter, 9d.

498

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

the somewhat opaque mystifications o f Fichte and, m o s t importantly, the moral personality o f Jesus himself, n o t as the Son or the Incarnation o f G o d , b u t as a moral example, the example that is to b e

found, n o t in Hegel's laughably Kantian “Life of Jesus” but in the actual text o f the “Sermon on the Mount.” I t takes little critical facility t o realize that this third section o f chapter 6 is perversely placed. I t is indeed part o f the story o f “alienation,” which is the conceptual theme o f the preceding section, but it has little thematic plausibility i n any other sense and would fit much better in the following chapter o n “Religion.” (That is where we shall

deal with much of it.) But one should also keep note o f the fact that the organization o f this whole last third o f the Phenomenology (that is,

the whole o f Part C on “Reason”) is horrendously disorganized and, as Hegel himself admitted t o Schelling, “disproportionate.” I t 1s here

that the historicist Hegel fully discovers himself, much t o the chagrin of the absolute idealist Hegel who began the work, several hundred pages ago.

b. Morality and the Good Life Man does not live for pleasure; only the Englishman does. —Nietzsche

HEDONISM

( “ P l e a s u r e a n d Necessity,” 5 , B , a.)

The search for the good life begins, almost inevitably it seems, with hedonism, the view that it is pleasure that makes life worthwhile. I n America in particular, i t is difficult t o think of the good life without thinking about the things that make life pleasurable—good food and wine, enjoyable activities, success and money, sex and companionship. Pushed into the background are the less tangible rewards of hard work for its o w n sake, the difficult dialectics o f a relationship (as

opposed t o the casual pleasures o f companionship and the erotic pleasures of romantic love), questions of duty and morality and the obligations o f citizenship. We tend to see these more as a network o f necessities which o n the one hand secure the possibility o f the good

life but on the other hand interfere with it t o o . The good life is pleasure, and as much o f it as possible. Hedonism is among the oldest of ethical theories; Plato had to deal

Hegel’s Ethics

499

with it, and Aristotle dedicated several separate sections t o discussing it i n his Nicomachean Ethics.*® B u t i n its more developed forms, it is a distinctively modern view, and i t has earned a special name: utilitarianism. Whatever its larger scope as a moral theory, the premise o f

utilitarianism is quite simply that the good is what gives us pleasure, and the bad is what gives us pain. The debate has been particularly vigorous since the mid-19th century, when John Stuart Mill established utilitarianism as one o f the leading moral theories—if not the

moral view o f our times. I n Mill as i n Bentham before him, “the utility principle”—that only pleasure is good in itself —became the axiom of his ethics.** This provoked questions still unsettled: Are there also differences i n the “quality” o f pleasures? I s the ecstasy o f a single sadist to count as much as the misery o f his victims? Can utilitarianism

form an adequate theory of justice or moral obligation? But however these questions are answered, the premise seems to remain intact,

almost unchallengeable; pleasure is the good, pain is the bad, and the good life is the maximization of the first and the minimalization of the second. I n the Phenomenology, hedonism appears virtually o u t of nowhere— that 1s—right after Hegel's discussion of phrenology and the mindbody (spirit-skull) problem. This means, o n the one hand, that he-

donism is one o f those “certainty” starting points—like “SenseCertainty” and “Self-Certainty”—that might just as well serve as the starting point o f the dialectic, as a m o s t obvious view, as the normal

starting point of any discussion of ethics, whether in a freshman philosophy class o r a distinguished treatise o n the subject. ( “ W h y should one ever act contrary t o his o r her o w n pleasures?) I f we ignore the

intervening chapter o n “Observing Reason,” however, we can also see hedonism as a n o t unfamiliar reaction against the rigors of an “unhappy self-consciousness,” notoriously Kierkegaard’s gloomy religious life of guilt and abstinence. The contrast between unhappy piety and “losing oneself” i n the pleasures o f life is by n o means Hegel's

invention, and the whole history of Christianity might be framed a t the e x t r e m e s by these two opposed forms o f consciousness, wholly self-absorbed self-consciousness of one’s own inadequacy vis-a-vis eternity, o n the o n e side, and the sensuous immediacy o f the moment,

on the other. I f we include the section on “Observing Reason”, we can, though less forcefully, appreciate another quite “natural” reac43. Aristotle, Ethics, B o o k 1.5; 11.3; V I I . 1 1 ; X . 1 - 5 .

44. Jeremy Bentham'’s Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789) and Mill's Utilitarianism (1863).

500

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

tion—the dedicated scientist o r scholar, wholly absorbed i n his or her work and its rigors, breaking away for an evening or a week of sheer hedonism. John Stuart Mill again comes t o mind, but i t is not an un-

known polarity in contemporary academic life. I n terms o f i t s basic conceptual s t r u c t u r e , t h e hedonistic form o f

consciousness has as its most essential attribute the fact that i t is strictly individual i n its ontology: pleasure is a property o f the individual (as

is pain), and whether one is concerned only with one’s own pleasures or, i n good utilitarian form, with the pleasures o f the greatest number

of people possible, the locus of the theory remains the individual consciousness. One might talk sensibly of the laws or morals o f a people without any reference to particular individuals (one can imagine

without difficulty a society in which the Law is known only by a small judicial elite, o r perhaps a single “infallible” authority), b u t one can-

intelligibly imagine a reference t o “the pleasures o f the people” without i t being clearly understood that i t is each individual person whose pleasure and pain is t o be taken into account.* Given Hegel's over-all strategy of moving from the particular t o the universal and showing how what looks like an elemental particular is not

i n fact b u t a node i n a complex nexus, we can anticipate Hegel’s ar-

gument against hedonism. Considered as a purely particular property o f a n individual, pleasure lacks the universality that is intrinsic to

the very idea of “reason” or “purposive activity.” That is, it c a n n o t

provide a sense o f “meaning” to life, b u t , at most, i t 1s a meaningless

distraction—however enjoyable. Behind these abstractions, we recognize once again a wholly familiar phenomenon—the fact that the life o f pleasure never seems to “ a m o u n t to anything,” that pleasures repeated soon become tedious, and soon we, l i k e the “master” i n the

“Master-Slave” parable, become jaded. Pleasures are no longer pleasurable, o r even a distraction. This, i n Hegel’s ontological jargon, is

precisely because they are particulars, because they have no “meaning.” They refer t o nothing else and add u p t o nothing. Even the greatest pleasure endures b u t for a moment, and then i t is gone, leavi n g u s a t b e s t p l e a s a n t l y d e v o i d o f desire, o r worse, a n d just as often,

bloated, exhausted, restless, disgusted, o r depressed. T h u s even i f we accept (for the moment) the view that i t is the individual who is the

locus of a meaningful life, mere pleasure is n o t sufhcient t o make life meaningful. Pleasure, alone, is nothing a t all. The argument here, looking ahead, could come (and later does 45. T h u s i n classical utilitarianism, the “utility principle” is linked to an “equality p r i n c i p l e , ” “ t h a t e a c h p e r s o n c o u n t s for o n e a n d o n l y o n e ” (Mill, Utilitarianism).

Hegel’s Ethics

501

come) straight out o f Kierkegaard. T h e “aesthetic life,” the life o f D o n

Juan, for example, is one of “pure immediacy,” lived for the m o m e n t and oblivious to eternity.*® O n e can, as D o n Juan, continue i n such a life indefinitely, until, t h a t is, o n e begins to reflect, to move beyond the moment a n d the immediate. A t that p o i n t , gloats Kierkegaard, the pleasure is n o more; D o n Juan’s lot is pure despair. Thus it is that

even Don Juan is eventually driven t o move on t o a more “ethical” form of life, a life concerned with virtue and other people, n o t merely as means to pleasure but, as i n Kant, as ends i n themselves.*” Looking back, however, one finds the same argument in Plato’s Republic and Aristotle’s Ethics; pleasure, i n itself, is nothing. Aristotle, for example,

insists that the good life and pleasure are inseparable, but n o t because pleasure is the good life; rather pleasure is “bound u p w i t h the activ-

ity i t completes . . . the pleasure intensifies the activity.” *® But this presupposes that the activity itself is good and worthwhile, for the pleasure i n itself is o f n o intrinsic value at all. Pleasure accompanying a n

improper activity is improper pleasure; there is nothing good about it. I n d e e d , the pursuit o f pleasure alone Aristotle considers a n unin-

telligible pursuit; pleasure “completes” o u r activities, but it is n o t by itself a n intelligible goal. I f eating produces pleasure, i t is because we

enjoy eating. I f sex produces pleasure, i t is because we enjoy a certain activity with (or without) another person. I f reading gives us pleasure, it is because we enjoy reading. B u t , in every case—even the purest examples o f hedonism—it is n o t pleasure alone that we seek,

but something else. One might think that drug-induced pleasures, a t least, are pure pleasures, or that those peculiar sensations induced by the psychophysiologist James Olds by stimulating certain “pleasure centers” o f the brain m i g h t count as pleasure “ i n itself” B u t even

here, Hegel would argue, either the pleasure has significance because it occurs in a larger context (for example, i n a drug culture, i n which such experiences are praised and encouraged) or else, sensations aside, it is nothing a t all. Even in Epicurus, supposedly the classic defender of hedonism, we find the following m o s t anti-Epicurean proviso; The pleasant life is n o t the product o f o n e drinking party after another o r o f sexual intercourse with women or

boys o r

o f t h e sea food

a n d o t h e r delicacies afforded b y a l u x u r i o u s t a b l e . O n t h e contrary, i t i s t h e r e s u l t o f s o b e r thinking—namely,

investigation of the rea-

s o n s for e v e r y a c t o f c h o i c e a n d a v e r s i o n , a n d e l i m i n a t i o n o f t h o s e

46. Kierkegaard, Either/Or, esp. his discussion o f Don Giovanni and “Diary o f a Seducer” i n vol. 1, pp. 297-440. 47. lbid., vol. 2, p. 1701. 48. Aristotle, Ethics B o o k X , chs. 4-5.

502

Hitching the Highway ofDespair false ideas a b o u t t h e gods a n d d e a t h w h i c h a r e t h e c h i e f s o u r c e o f mental d i s t u r b a n c e s . * ®

I t is from Aristotle that Hegel inherits the argument that pleasure, which looks like an immediate particular, is i n fact an abstract and mediated universal. Stated as such, this seems confusing, but the argument is that virtually n o pleasures are simply sensations pleasant

in themselves; it is always the context and the activity they accompany that makes them so. A bite o n one’s shoulder may be extremely plea-

surable i n the midst of a passionate embrace, but painful and disgusting when similarly administered by a stranger o n the subway. Even sexual orgasm, i n certain (admittedly rare) instances, m i g h t not be

pleasurable a t all, and the same t a s t e of raspberry sherbert that was so pleasurable with the first spoonful may well be repulsive by the end o f a half-gallon c a r t o n . Pleasure, like the sensations o f sense-

certainty, are n o t particulars and immediate but rather interpretations, mediated by context a n d concepts. T h e preceding set o f arguments embodies a now familiar Hegelian

twist—his perverse delight i n attacking a seemingly unassailable and certain position from both ends a t once: o n the one hand, pleasure

fails t o provide meaning because it 1s a particular and n o t a universal; on the other hand, pleasure t u r n s o u t n o t t o be a particular after all, but rather an abstract and mediated complex which is bound and defined by its context. B u t this 1s not as such an argument against hedonism; a n articulate hedonist could still insist that, whether pleasure is a particular o r a universal is surely o f n o concern to h i m , a n d

i f pleasure

turns o u t to

be an accompaniment of activities instead of

a n end i n itself, that does not i n any sense preclude his continuing to

live the life of pleasure—even a life of jaded dissipation. I t is Hegel, n o t the hedonist, who impresses upon us the importance of duration. Frankly, the pleasure-seeker is n o t impressed. I n a few paragraphs, i n his ontological prose, Hegel seems t o suggest n o fewer t h a n a half-dozen arguments against the hedonist. B y

the dictates of his o w n method, the only arguments that will work will have to b e internal arguments, that is, arguments which will show the hedonist (or someone attracted t o hedonism as a view o f the good

life) that the very pursuit of pleasure is self-defeating. With this in m i n d , however, perhaps we should first mention a n argument that

Hegel does n o t employ here but which has often been attributed t o him (e.g. by Findlay).>® This is the a r g u m e n t that hedonism—and 49. Epicurus, Letter to Menoecus, i n The Philosophy of Epicurus, t r a n s . G. Strodach (Evanston: N o r t h w e s t e r n U n i v . Press, 1963).

50. Findlay, Philosophy of Hegel, p. 108.

Hegel's Ethics

503

egoism more generally—is self-defeating because i t cannot be generalized, since several hedonists inevitably conflict with one another. (The

assumption is that hedonists are egoists and that pleasure is limited.) However old and honored this argument may be, i t is valid only if the hedonist (egoist) is also either a utilitarian who believes that other people’s pleasures are his concern or a quasi-Kantian who feels strangely compelled to urge hedonism (egoism) o n others even if it interferes

with his own pursuits. A hedonist may well wish everyone else well, of course, but i t seems t o me t o be philosophical obstinacy t o argue that, i f the hedonist is indeed a hedonist, h e must also defend a principle to that effect. This is not Hegel's argument. H e approaches i t

only where he points o u t (355) that the hedonist is inevitably “isolated and o n his own” and “ i n opposition t o the laws and customs,” but this

is an anticipation o f “alienation,” of “all against all”

not

a Hobbesian warning of a war

I f the hedonist ( o r someone attracted to hedonism as a theory) is to

be put off, it is necessary t o demonstrate that hedonism in itself is impossible o r self-defeating, not just that i t has untoward consequences (for others) o r breaks d o w n the social order. O f course, if one person’s hedonism could in fact tear d o w n the social order, to the extent

that n o one could obtain any pleasure a t all, that might be an

argument for a relatively reasonable hedonist, b u t one can always

imagine a Caligula, or a less personable David Hume, who would prefer the destruction of the world t o the slightest personal pain or deprivation of the slightest pleasure.’ Parents know how hopeless such abstract and implausible arguments are i n dissuading a teenage son o r daughter from hedonistic tendencies; the only workable appeal t o the hedonist—is t o hedonism. One argument, again only briefly suggested (362), harks back t o the master-slave relationship, i n the sense that hedonism confuses in a disastrous way the other person as an “independent selfconsciousness” a n d the other person as a mere means. W h e n Hegel

speaks o f “the vision o f unity o f the

two

independent self-

consciousnesses,” i t is not far-fetched o r a matter o f scholarly licen-

tiousness t o suggest that he is talking about sex. The argument here— often made against Don Juan—is simply that, i n using another person for one’s own pleasure, one denies them their independence as a person; but if what one seeks is n o t sheer sensual pleasure alone but 51. See, e.g. B r i a n Medlin, “ U l t i m a t e Principles a n d E t h i c a l Egoism,” Australasian

Journal of Philosophy, vol. 35 (1957). 52. T h e c o m m e n t is from H u m e , Treatise on Human Nature. “ I t is n o t contrary to Reason t o prefer the destruction o f the whole world t o the scratching o f my finger” (11.in.3,p. 416) (Selby-Bigge, ed. Oxford 1906).

504

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

rather—what I would think would almost always be the case—some interpersonal expression of unity as well, then the pursuit of pleasure narrowly defined directly contradicts the pursuit o f a sense o f unity that 1s far m o r e pleasurable. O r to p u t the argument in a more Aris-

totelean way, i t is the pursuit of unity that is pleasurable, and n o t pleasure itself that is pursued. Another argument, suggested in the same passage (362), is again familiar i n various discussions of Don Juan. Albert Camus, for example, i n his discussion of Don Juan as “the absurd hero” i n his Myth of Sisyphus, tells us yet once again that what D o n Juan wants is n o t this woman a n d that woman b u t Woman as such, a n d Hegel here tells us, less chauvinistically b u t more obscurely too, that “ i t is n o t as this particular individual that it becomes a n object to itself, but rather as the u n i t y o f itself a n d the o t h e r self-consciousness” (362); furthermore,

the “transition is made from the form of the one or unit into that of universality . . . (364). I n short, what the hedonist really wants is Pleasure, n o t just this o r that pleasure, a n d here Aristotle’s argument that pleasure c a n n o t be a goal i n itself but rather accompanies and “completes” good activity comes d o w n o n the hedonist full force, not as a n

abstract ontological consideration but a practical consideration of disastrous proportions: i t means that the hedonist can never b e satisfied, for what h e o r she wants is a n abstract a n d unobtainable univer-

sal, desperately pursued through innumerable particulars. But no number of particulars add u p t o the universal. N o number of women (“1003 i n Spain alone” according t o Mozart’s librettist) adds u p t o Woman; a n d n o number o f pleasures, not even a lifetime full o f them, adds u p t o Pleasure. I t 1s a n o d d argument, to be sure, and one can

imagine a dedicated hedonist waddling away with a shrug of the shoulders; b u t i f we take the argument o u t o f its abstract quasi-

ontological form and think o f i t once again i n t e r m s of the simple and familiar argument that the pursuit of pleasure inevitably ends u p i n frustration and the desperate pursuit of ever-more intense and perverse pleasures to fill the void (which H e g e l dramatically refers to as

“death” (363,364)), the power of the argument, whether heeded o r not, is undeniable.5? 53. B u t one could argue that it is only a very unthinking hedonist who would be

trapped i n this fatal progression; Alasdair MacIntyre argues, for instance, that i f the hedonist is n o t interpreted so crudely as a Don Juan figure, but as a scholar enjoying his work, as a fisherman enjoying his fishing, then i t is n o t as clear that one must become jaded, even if i t is also t r u e that “ i t exhausts you before you exhaust it, and just as much i n scholarship as i n sex.” Suppose the hedonist is aware o f the danger o f

becoming jaded and, like Charles I I , changes mistresses often enough—but n o t

too

often? A n d suppose h e recognizes the essence o f Hegel's argument, that too easily obtained pleasures are ultimately unsatisfying, a n d replaces more pleasurable pursuits

Hegel's Ethics

505

T h e n , finally, comes Hegel's m a i n argument, w i t h which h e ends the section (and w h i c h gives t h e section its title). I t is the conversion

of the pursuit of pleasure into necessity. Faust is explicitly quoted (360) but D o n Juan will d o as well; what begins as desire becomes need;

what starts as positive pleasure becomes the elimination of pain. Thus Don Juan initially enjoys his liaisons; later he needs them. Theoretically too, this transition has its (duller) manifestations; in the history

of utilitarianism, for example, the principle of pleasure tends t o give way t o the negative principle of avoidance of pain.>®* The most tragic illustration of this principle is the transition from pleasure t o necessity i n drug addiction: a person begins with a few shots of heroin or morphine for pleasure. Soon, there may still be pleasure i n it, but it will b e more relief than euphoria, and the relief is all b u t over-

whelmed by the despair of addiction. This is hardly “the good life”; i t is slavery. And i t is i n this sense that the pursuit of pleasure t u r n s into the degradation and “alienation” of need that should t u r n off any but the m o s t dedicated hedonist. T h e question is—Where to turn? As elsewhere i n the dialectic, this is not clearly indicated i n the form o f consciousness itself. A n d yet

again we have a “determinate negation”. I t is this: hedonism sought t o find the good life through pleasure, but it t u r n s out that the pursuit o f pleasure tends t o undermine itself and lead t o degradation and dependency. So, if we pursue o u r search for the good life ratio-

nally, we should look for a life that is not dependent on anything, that is intrinsically good instead of degrading, while still being wholly particular ( i n the sense o f pertaining t o each o f us as a n individual person) and truly immediate (that is, which I can find i n myself i n any context whatsoever).

w i t h hedonistic projects? Would h e still not be a hedonist but yet escape Hegel's dilemma? O f course, one would eventually get tired o f any such project too, b u t one o f

the premises o f hedonism is in fact the shortness o f life: the premise o f “eat, drink and be merry” is always, “tomorrow we die.” ( I n seminar, University o f Texas at Austin, Feb.

4, 1980.) 54. “ I t despises intellect and science The supreme gifts o f man I t has given itself t o the devil And must perish.” (ibid.) 55. For example, J.]J.C. Smart, “Extreme and Restricted Utilitarianism,” Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 3. (1953), and An Outline of a System of Utilitarian Ethics (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1961).

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

506

T H E L A W O F T H E HEART A N D T H E FRENZY

O F SELF-DECEIT

(ROMANTICISM) (5, B , b.)

L e t u s p e n e t r a t e t o t h e b o t t o m o f o u r hearts, a n d l e t u s reflect o n what the s t a t e o f t h i n g s must b e i n which a l l m e n a r e forced t o caress e a c h o t h e r a n d w h i c h t h e y a r e born enemies o u t o f d u t y a n d t o d e s t r o y e a c h other, a n d c r o o k s o u t o f self-interest.

ın

T h e impossibility o f a t t a i n i n g t h e r e a l p e r s o n s p r e c i p i t a t e d m e i n t o t h e l a n d

o f chimeras; and seeing nothing that existed worthy o f my exalted feelings, I fostered t h e m i n t o a n ideal w o r l d w h i c h m y creative imagination soon peopled w i t h b e i n g s after m y o w n h e a r t . — R o u s s e a u , Confessions

T h e turn from hedonism, still i n the form o f particular immediacy, 1s t o that sense of “inner goodness” that is the experience of every adolescent and perpetually associated with the name Jean Jacques Rous-

seau. I n fact, Rousseau m i g h t n o t implausibly be seen throughout all these sections, not j u s t o n the basis that we know so well h o w devoted

Hegel (and Kant) had been t o his work only a few years earlier, but because the somewhat schizoid fragments of Rousseau’s own thoughts and behavior fall without distortion into the three forms of “rational self-consciousness”: Jean Jacques i n Venice, the jaded libertine; Jean Jacques the self-righteous, internally good man, corrupted by society; and Jean Jacques the confessor, pulling back from the ways of the world a n d praising his o w n virtue. But, as always, i t would be seri-

ously misreading Hegel t o identify his “forms of consciousness” with a particular individual, and i t is n o less o f a mistake when commentators identify these three forms with three different individuals. (Jean Hyppolite, for instance, identifies them with the odd trinity—Faust, Schiller, and Don Quixote—the first obvious, the second plausible but

derivative—since Schiller too was a n admirer o f Rousseau—the third

wholly fanciful and with no justification i n the text.)*® The middle form, i n particular, has to b e identified (as Hegel even tells us, in a n

unusually candid moment (357)) with a widespread tendency i n the age,” t o be identified n o t just with Schiller and traced back t o Rousseau. I t is that general heart-felt sentimentality that still goes by the name “Romanticism,” “the law o f the heart” as opposed to the de-

mands of desire and the pursuit of pleasure and opposed as well t o the rule-bound cerebral conception of morals derived from Rousseau by such philosophers as Kant. 56. Jean Hyppolite, ston:

Genesis a n d Structure o f Hegel's “Phenomenology o f

Northwestern Univ. Press, 1974), p. 275n.

57. “ . . . b u t since i n o u r times

that

Spirit” (Evan-

form o f these moments is m o r e f a m i l i a r . . . ”

(357). Cf. Logic, 4: “The philosopher has t o reckon with popular modes o f thought.”

507

Hegel’s Ethics

T h e “law o f the heart” is a view o f life that seems to fulfill the de-

mands of the jaded hedonist. I t is not, however, the only possible alternative, and the transition is not i n that sense “necessary,” much less a “deduction.” ® T h e hedonist might well stay a hedonist, increas-

ingly jaded and self-destructive; he or she might become an absurdist, a sadist, retreat to the asceticism o f “ U n h a p p y Consciousness” o r throw oneself into work o r j o i n the marines to learn some “discipline.”

These too retain the essential outlines o f the form, insofar as they too are strictly personal i f n o t immediate and, in different ways, attempts

salvage some sense of dignity after the degradation of spent hedonism.5 But, of these various alternatives, Hegel presents us with to

one i n particular—not surprisingly the one with which h e was most

familiar and, t o an extent, m o s t sympathetic. I t is the very romantic one’s pure inner feelings and the sense that one has discov-

retreat t o

ered, in oneself, t r u e goodness and the beauty o f life. I t is, needless to say, n o t a n unpleasant o r unfamiliar feeling. T h e problems emerge

when one tries t o elevate this heart-felt sentimentality

to

the level of

ethics, to a n articulate philosophy which applies to anyone other than

oneself. The “contradiction” here is familiar enough i n Rousseau’s own writings, as h e wavers between love o f humanity—each member o f

which shares his “inner goodness”—and clinically diagnosable paranoia, as if h e alone were truly good and the world has set out to cor-

rupt and destroy him. I n fact, Hegel provides us with a series of arguments against the “law o f the heart” which are virtually identical i n

form t o some of the arguments he suggested against hedonism. They all come d o w n to a single all-important claim, which is that the good life cannot be a property o f a n individual alone, and to think so can

only emerge in a self-destructive self-righteousness (“the frenzy of self-conceit”). T h e arguments are, first, that what is taken to be a particular (the feeling o f i n n e r goodness) is i n fact not this at all, but that, 58. Alasdair MacIntyre interprets the passage somewhat more rigorously, and insists that the “pleasure and necessity” section reaches conclusions which are the premises o f “the law o f the heart.” H e does not hold that follows from a as such b u t that “anyone w h o thinks things t h r o u g h rationally must move t h r o u g h these stages.” I t h i n k

this is too strong. H e also interprets Hegel with unusual rigor here in suggesting that the method requires a literal contradiction of the “ p and not-p” variety t o establish the “breakdown” o f the section; b u t the s e t o f problems summarized i n Hegel's somewhat perverse interplay between universality and particularity do n o t give us a reductio ad absurdum of this kind. MacIntyre admits this, but accuses Hegel o f failing i n his method: I would argue that the characterization of the method i n t e r m s o f strict “contradiction” 15

too strong. 59. One thinks immediately o f Camus’s Sisyphus, cursing the gods who have con-

d e m n e d h i m w i t h “ s c o r n a n d defiance,” a n d Camus’s o w n insistence that we confront

the “absurdity” of life through admittedly pointless and aimless “rebellion.”

508

Hitching the Highway of Despair

if it 1s to b e presented as anything more than a mere feeling, i t must be a universal law. B u t at the same time, i t cannot b e universal without

losing its essential reference t o the singular individual, which is what motivates the theory in the first place. T h e dilemma, obviously, is the same we found i n hedonism, the claim that a feeling (pleasure) is

particular, destroyed by a demonstration that, i f i t is anything a t all i t m u s t refer to the universal, b u t insofar as i t is universal, i t cannot be

what i t is supposed t o be—a feeling. Thus the romantic becomes “in (his/her) o w n self a contradiction” (375); The law o f this particular heart is alone that i n which self-consciousness recognizes itself; but the universally valid order has, through the realizing o f that law, equally become for self-consciousness its own e s s e n t i a l b e i n g a n d i t s o w n reality. T h u s w h a t contradicts i t s e l f i n its consciousness h a s for i t i n e a c h case the form o f essence a n d i t s o w n

reality. (ibid.) and

this is a unity which is madness i n general. . . . i t holds the t w o sides i n t h e i r c o n t r a d i c t i o n t o b e immediately i t s e s s e n t i a l b e i n g , w h i c h i s

thus i n its inmost being distraught. (376)

Hegel did n o t argue against the hedonist that his or her hedonism would inevitably conflict with the hedonism of others, but he did argue that i t required a break from society i n general (362-63). H e now

argues that the self-righteous conceit of the romantic who elevates his or her own heart-felt sensibility above the dictates of law and society (which Rousseau, of course, chastised as “artificial” and “corrupt”) inevitably comes into conflict with society i n general, which finds the romantics self-declared nobility and inner goodness t o be “detestable” (373). The problem with moral sentiments, t o r e s t a t e the problem in standard philosophical parlance, is that different people may have different sentiments, a n d that cannot be—as K a n t so forcefully

argued against the British moral sentiment theorists—the basis of a universal morality.?® To become what the romantic w a n t s the law of his heart t o become—namely, the law of the land, his heart-felt sentiments m u s t be the same as everyone else’s; but here h e runs back into the first, familiar, ontological dilemma: either this law is univer-

sal, o r i t cannot be law, but i f i t 1s universal, i t can’t be i n any sense the

romantic’s own. This i n t u r n gives rise t o a third, again repeated, argument—that the motivation o f romanticism is that sense o f individual self-realization, 60. Kant argues directly against Hume i n the Preface

to

The Critique of Practical

Reason, trans. Lewis W. B e c k (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1956), p . 13f.

Hegel's Ethics

509

but insofar as the romantic succeeds i n suggesting that his own feelings should be elevated t o the s t a t u s of law, they thereby become alien t o him, and take on just that oppresive, external s t a t u s that he first objected t o i n the laws of society already established (371-76). Thus, t h e h e a r t - t h r o b for t h e w e l f a r e o f humanity . . . passes i n t o t h e fury o f consciousness t o p r e s e r v e i t s e l f from d e s t r u c t i o n. . . I t therefore speaks o f t h e u n i v e r s a l o r d e r as a p e r v e r s i o n o f the l a w o f the heart a n d i t s happiness, a p e r v e r s i o n i n v e n t e d b y fanatical priests, g l u t t o n -

ous despots a n d their minions, w h o compensate for their o w n deg-

radation by degrading and oppressing others, a perversion which h a s l e d t o t h e nameless m i s e r y o f deluded humanity. ( 3 7 7 )

Similarly, i n Rousseau we find, “Nature made man happy and good, and society depraves him and makes him miserable.”®! Thus the romantic finds himself torn between his demand that his feelings be universalized into law and his recognition that this same universalization would constitute a perversion o f those same feelings (378). H e

even begins t o suspect that what m o s t people call their own “law of the heart” is pure selfishness, and that—as i n the case of Hobbesian selfishness—any attempt t o institute universal order will in fact become “ a universal state o f war” (379). We are back to the “master-

slave”: The savage lives within himself, whereas social man, constantly o u t side himself, knows only how t o live i n the opinion o f others and it is, i f I may say so, merely from their judgment that he derives the consciousness o f his o w n existence. —Rousseau, second Discourse

The dialectic we pursued in chapter 4, “Self-Consciousness,” now reappears. There, the progression depended upon the search for an adequate conception of self; here i t follows the pursuit of the good life. These are not, o f course, different questions b u t only different

sides of one and the same search. The initial self-certainty o f “SelfConsciousness” in “desire” is here translated into pleasure, the difference being, one can plausibly argue, that desire is a t the beginning a

question of need while the search for pleasure already presupposes the satisfaction (or at least the lack of desperation) of such basic needs. (Spinoza, for example, defines desire as simply our consciousness of appetite, while pleasure is what motivates a person t o increasing energy and well-being.®?) O f course, desires can be made increasingly exquisite and self-created, and pleasure becomes—as we saw here— a matter o f need, b u t this is only t o say once again that desire and pleasure, self-certainty a n d hedonism, are two sides o f the same eth61. Rousseau, Emile, trans. B . Foxley ( N e w York: D u t t o n , 1974) p . 253. 62. Spinoza, Ethics, B o o k I I I .

510

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ical coin. They share the same contradictions—an artificial individuality, c u t off from the social c o n t e x t that gives them meaning, and both are insatiable, since they have a n inadequately defined and forever evasive object. T h e move away from hedonism a n d desire to-

ward a sense of virtue, which in “Selt-Consciousness” is expressed i n the cosmic philosophy o f Stoicism, here becomes expressed in a similar retreat t o “the inside” and one’s own sense o f integrity and independence (as “Thought” i n Stoicism, as “the Law of the Heart” here). Stoicism and Romanticism become—and n o t only for Hegel—parallel movements, both reactions to, rationalizations of, a n d retreat from a sensuous world that has proven to be intolerable.®?

Virtue and the Way of the World (Pietism) (5, B , c.) I drew this great maxim of morality, perhaps the only one of pract i c a l use, t o a v o i d s i t u a t i o n s w h i c h p u t o u r duties i n o p p o s i t i o n w i t h

o u r interests and which show us our good i n the hurts o f others,

sure that, i n such situations, however sincere o u r love o f virtue, we w e a k e n s o o n e r o r l a t e r w i t h o u t r e a l i z i n g i t , a n d become unjust a n d

wicked i n our actions, without having stopped being just and good a t h e a r t . — R o u s s e a u , Confessions

What is the self-appointed “good man”

to

do when he finds that he

c a n n o t improve the world any more than h e can satisfy his o w n insa-

tiable desires? Well, one suggestion is that he retreat even further from the world, protect his virtue from temptation, avoid those situations i n which either one’s sense of virtue or one’s desires are likely t o be threatened. Once again, Rousseau forms our perfect model, but again it is essential t o point o u t that this virtuous retreat was not in

any sense the invention of Rousseau alone. I t is, of course, parallel i f 63. K a r l M a r x , romantic to the core i n his youth, turned his o w n poetry against the romantic escapism i n an early verse,

He is a German A n d he lavishly throws about, “Melody” and “soul” A t every opportunity. T h a t sounds romantic,

B u t dear young Sir,

It’s only sound. (In S. Prawer, Karl Marx and World Literature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976), p- 14.) Arnold Hauser too condemns romanticism as “irrational a n d escapist,” as “es-

cape t o Utopia and fairy tale, t o the unconscious and the fantastic . . . t o childhood and t o n a t u r e , t o d r e a m s a n d madness . . . a l l t h e s a m e feeling, o f t h e s a m e y e a r n i n g for

irresponsibility” (A Social History of Art, vol. 3) (New York: Vintage, 1951). And Irving Babbit, a vitriolic critic, calls for “stripping idealistic disguises from egoism . . . exposing

sham spirituality” (in Rousseau and Romanticism (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1919)).

Hegel’s Ethics

511

in some ways identical t o the ascetic retreat of the “Unhappy Consciousness” (207-30; notice some similar language of “contradiction”

not

a n d “deceit”), a n d i t will b e found again i n the “Beautiful Soul,” at

the end of chapter 6. The romantic hero of “Virtue and the Way of the World” separates himself from the world and its temptations, and,

having tried t o change the world, even compromising his principles, drops the ideal o f virtuous self-realization altogether. The parallel with “Unhappy Consciousness” is obvious, but the ending is n o t so “unhappy.” I n dropping his arrogant sense of individual virtue, the romantic also finds his way back into the world, as we shall see i n a

few moments. Alasdair MacIntyre suggests quite plausibly that this section of the Phenomenology represents a reasonably accurate portrait o f the Port

Royale pietists of the Cistercian abbey (a few miles southwest of Paris). T h i s was n o t a monastic o r d e r as s u c h , b u t rather a consortium o f

hermits, w h o were p a r t o f that rather strict a n d elitist group in the

Catholic church called Jansenists. The m o s t famous occupant of Port Royale, however, was Blaise Pascal. After a reputedly dissipated and extravagant period i n Paris (1651-54), he experienced a violent mystical conversion there (November 1654) and lived there for some time. I t is n o t clear whether Hegel had any interest i n Pascal as such, but Pascal's somewhat “gloomy pessimism” (as Voltaire described it), with its e x t r e m e scepticism and emphasis on the frailty and contradictions of human life, fits perfectly into this segment of the Phenomenology and forms a precise parallel with both Skepticism (which Pascal explicitly defended) and “Unhappy Consciousness”. “Virtue and the Way o f the World,” i n a w o r d , is a study o f disciplined disillusionment as

itself a pursuit of the good life, albeit i n strictly negative form. I n Hegel's own lifetime, the Lutheran version of Pietism dominated the t h i n k i n g o f a great m a n y theologians and philosophers, particu-

larly Kant. I t formed the ruling ideology a t the Stift where Hegel w e n t t o college, and i t is with this i n mind that we should read Hegel's comment that this way of thinking and its keen demonstrations “all have vanished” (392). H e calls its rhetoric “fatuous” (390); i t too has

“vanished.” Here again, although divorced from any suggestion of distinctively religious terminology, is Hegel's reaction against the religion o f his upbringing, and i n m u c h the same t e r m s that h e more harshly attacked i t i n his early essays. A s opposed to t h e ancient con-

ception o f virtue, which plunged itself directly into the “way of the world” a n d tried to change things (390), this m o d e r n hermetic ver64. I n seminar, Feb. 6 , 1980. Cf. his discussion o f the Benedictines i n his After Virtue ( N o t r e D a m e : U n i v e r s i t y o f N o t r e D a m e Press, 1 9 8 1 ) .

512

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

sion o f virtue separates itself from the world a n d becomes only a hopeless, ineffectual, edifying form o f rhetoric (ibid.).

And yet, i t is important t o distinguish this sense o f “Virtue” (and its examples in the Jansenists and the Pietists) from the total withdrawal of the “Unhappy Consciousness,” however similar and interrelated these may be.® The Port Royale pietists and the Kantians too were n o t indifferent t o virtuous activity; they worked for the poor and did make a n effort to i m p r o v e the world, but always with a sense o f futil-

ity. Thus the form o f consciousness again becomes split i n t w o , holdi n g u p a n ideal o f virtue which is unattainable o n the one h a n d but o n the other fully aware o f and not attempting to deny the “way o f

the world” (as the ascetic “Unhappy Consciousness” had done). I n its actions, the virtuous consciousness compromises its high ideals and does what little it can, trying t o make the impersonal “way of the world” at least a bit better, to t u r n the i n d i v i d u a l aims a n d desires o f

the multitude into some good (382). Here Hegel briefly introduces one of the central themes of his philosophy of history, the idea of “universal law appearing. . . as a necessity within consciousness” (ibid.),

acting through individuals who may n o t know us purposes. I n the Lectures on the Philosophy of History, this is Hegel's famed “List der Vernunft,” (“the cunning of Reason”), which uses individuals—whether the lowest-ranked foot soldier o r Napoleon himself—as instruments to its o w n self-realization (as Spirit). Here i n the Phenomenology the idea plays a modest role b y way o f contrasting the sense o f public pur-

posiveness (however unconscious) with the separateness and cynicism o f the virtuous individual.® H e is n o t yet the “world historical individual” that Napoleon, for example, would be. (Hegel too.) For the virtuous man makes the mistake of divorcing himself from the world o f humanity, however charitably he may serve i t from time t o time (382-85). A n d this ultimately leads to that form o f nihilism i n which, even while sure o f the “good existing i n its o w n right,” the virtuous m a n sees that efforts i n the world are mere empty gestures, a “sham

fight which he cannot take seriously,” like the soldier i n battle who can think only o f keeping his sword well polished, o r like the troop com-

mander who would s t a r t a battle t o keep the weapons i n working order (386). The virtuous man participates i n the way of the world b u t , at the same time, h e does not d o so. Because the m a n o f virtue does n o t see himself as part o f society, 65. MacIntyre suggests a strong similarity here, i n particular, with Pascal's attack o n

the Jesuits. 6 6 . “ . .. i t s s h a l l o w cunning, . . . i t s fine-spun e x p l a n a t i o n s w h i c h k n o w h o w t o d e m -

onstrate the presence o f self-interest i n every action” (392).

Hegel’s Ethics

513

he has no way o f identifying himself with the way of the world, the power that does indeed cause significant change and provides a social order, whatever the virtuous m a n may think o f i t . B u t insofar as h e

stands apart from society, his ideal conception of virtue, which he (and his fellows) k n o w i n a privileged way, is o f n o use whatever (388).

Even as the virtuous man gives u p his impotent ideal and his edifying rhetoric (as the Germans had been d o i n g for the decade o r so since

Hegel was i n school) and submerges himself into the everyday exigencies o f ordinary life, he has unwittingly come t o recognize “by experience that ‘the way o f the world’ is n o t as bad as i t looked” (391).

Ultimately, i t is only through being an “actual” individual (a whole person) that one can partake i n the good life and come t o realize its meaning (“the movement o f individuality is the reality of the universal” (ibid.)). I t is with this realization that we begin to see, what ın fact

Hegel has been holding o u t for us all along, that the only meaning o f individual life is to b e found i n the social w o r l d , that whether i t is

happiness or righteousness o r virtue we seek, these are not t o be pursued by isolated individuals—at the cost of self-destruction; they are communal possibilities, t o be enjoyed in, through, and on the basis of, a given social order. I n attacking “Virtue and the Way of the World,” Hegel is once again rejecting any philosophy o r form of consciousness that is n o t i n t u n e with the tangible human everyday world; he is objecting once again t o a familiar kind of elitist moral pretentiousness and, i n passing, he takes a few more swipes a t the “old sourdough” pietist theology he was force-fed i n the Stift. There is a deep philosophical point being made here too, o n e w h i c h particularly exercised Kant; i t is the ques-

tion whether there could i n fact be a “disinterested” form o f virtue— whether people could indeed be motivated t o do the right thing apart from purely personal and self-interested motives (such as the promise of being rewarded or fear of being punished). The virtuous man o f this section emerges as a cynic i n the sense that he does n o t believe that there can be any such motivation; virtue is thus a n impotent ideal, a n d motivation is entirely selfish (389). T h i s is not the e n d o f the story, however, only the end o f this particularly cynical and self-

righteous form o f consciousness.

514

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

INDIVIDUALITY—IN

A N D F O R ITSELF:

THE BOURGEOIS ZOO

(5, C , a.

A N D T H E J E N A LECTURES)

This intrinsically real individuality is a t first again a single and specific one. The absolute reality which i t knows itself t o be is, therefore, as i t will become aware, a n abstract, universal reality l a c k i n g filling a n d content, m e r e l y the e m p t y

thought o f this category. . . . The concept o f this individuality, which as such k n o w s i t s e l f t o b e a l l reality, i s t o begin w i t h a result . . . .

—Phenomenology

(397-98)

I f we are t o understand what Hegel means by “individuality” in the Phenomenology, a n d why h e is so dead-set against it, we have t o first o f

all understand the force of Hegel’s realization that, contrary t o

most

o f the history o f modern philosophy, the individual self is i n n o sense

an immediately given element of consciousness (as Descartes claims in his cogzto) b u t a socially created concept, and a most peculiar concept at that. T h e peculiarity is that, even as i t is society a n d the social o r d e r that teaches us to think o f ourselves as individuals i n the first place, i t thereby teaches us t o ignore the fact that we are wholly social products and social participants. I t teaches us t o think o f ourselves as

ontological atoms for whom the formation of society is a puzzle and a mystery. T h u s Hobbes a n d Rousseau a n d hundreds o f other philos-

ophers from Locke t o Rawls have invoked a “social contract” t o explain away this mystery, confusing from the s t a r t the formation of individuality i n and through society with the myth that these same individuals, in some original state, gathered together t o form society. I t is this picture that Hegel vehemently rejects, for he realizes that i t is not o n l y a fiction b u t a logically impossible fiction; it presupposes

the existence of individuals capable of forming contracts before the existence o f society which alone constitutes the possibility of individuality and the validity of contracts.®’ I t is this pretension—that only individuals are truly actual—that Hegel explores in the central section of the Phenomenology, entitled “Individuality which takes itself t o be real i n and for itself.” The easily recognizable incarnation of such individuality, as rational autonomy, is K a n t , w h o dominates the last two-thirds o f the section (419-37).

But the larger number of pages is first given over t o a discussion that has surprisingly proved t o be the despair of many commentators, n o t so m u c h i n t e r m s o f its content as its significance. I t is quaintly en6 7 . “ I t d o e s n o t matter a t a l l t h a t H o b b e s t h o u g h t t h a t the c o n t r a c t was a matter o f

actual history; the story o f a n original contract is defeated by a logical incoherence. . . . H e tries to p u t together t w o notions that are incompatible, namely, subjects who can’t make contracts, and contracts” (Alasdair MacIntyre). 68. E.g., Findlay, Hegel, p p . 1 1 0 - 1 1 .

Hegel's Ethics

515

titled “The spiritual animal kingdom and deceit, or ‘the matter i n hand’ itself” (Das geistige Tierreich und der Betrug, oder die Sache selbst). Its content is readily identifiable as that form of individuality which loses itself i n “the task a t hand” (“die Sache selbst”), and Findlay rightly takes the academic scholarly community as a prime example.5? But it would be curious i f Hegel had taken u p this all-important space between Rousseau and the question of virtue i n Kant t o go on a t length about the familiar pretensions of academic life. H e does this, indeed, b u t as part o f a much larger picture. H i s discussion focuses o n the

notion of meaningful work and individual expression—which are by n o means the unique domain o f the scholars (a complaint Marx quite rightly leveled against Hegel). B u t this too is part o f a much more general philosophical set o f concerns which, unfortunately, are n o t a t all obvious in the text o f the Phenomenology. T o see what they are,

therefore, I w a n t t o t u r n t o the lectures that Hegel was in fact giving t o his students a t Jena during the time he was working on the book. Within the c o n t e x t of the Phenomenology, the important point is that we are already talking about individuals immersed i n society, attempt-

ing t o express themselves as individuals within the social context, (though the concept of “Spirit” has n o t yet been i n v o k e d ) . I n 1805-6, Hegel prepared a course entitled “the Philosophy o f Spirit,” now published i n Volume I I of Hegel's Jenenser Realphilosophie.” I n the third part of the Realphilosophie (“Constitution”) he discusses “ t h e Universal as Multitude; the People” (“a multitude o f i n -

dividuals i n general”) and what is readily identifiable as the “General Will” of Rousseau, the awesome power of the people in willful unity. B u t h e rejects here rather clearly the Rousseauan idea o f a social cont r a c t , upon

which this unity supposedly is based;

I t is thought that the community (Gemeinwesen) r e s t s o n an original concept, t o which each person is presumed by his silence t o give T h e multitude i s t h u s actually r e p r e s e n t e d as c o n s t i t u t i n g t h e community. I t i s as i f from the b e g i n n i n g t h e r e was n o community i n existence. consent— . . .

69. Ibid. 110; the same example is picked u p by Loewenberg Hegel's Phenomenology, p- 171, and by Lauer, A Reading, p. 171. 70. I t is here that the equivocation i n talk about “Spirit” which is so evident i n the Preface becomes philosophically significant; the word refers n o t t o the existence o f shared identity but t o the explicit recognition of this identity, “the recognition/realization of spirit as spirit.” Sittlichkeit, on the other hand, does n o t require this recognition, and we should say that, though “Spirit” has n o t yet been invoked, Sittlichkeit has been with us all along, though u n n o t i c e d . E v e n “Pleasure a n d Necessity,” for instance, involves

breaking the unity o f Sittlichkeit, which is thereby presupposed (357-62). 71. Jenenser Realphilosophie, i n Sämtliche Werke, ed. H e r m a n n Glockner, 2 0 vols.,

(Stuttgart, 1927-30), t r a n s . Allan Wood (unpublished).

516

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

The truth of the matter seems t o be quite the opposite, that i t is through tyranny and oppression—pure authority—that individuality learns t o assert itself. The Master-Slave relationship (in the Phenomenology presented as a matter o f self-identity) here appears as the foun-

dation of the state, the political cauldron o u t of which individuality emerges through “education t o obedience” and, eventually, rebellion. The master-slave s t r u c t u r e of society evolves eventually into the “beautiful, happy freedom of the Greeks, which has been and still is so envied.” I n the ideal society, “the people is at once dissolved into

citizens (Biirger) and are a t one with the state” The image is pure Rousseau; the ideal is pure polis. But i t is obvious that this ideal is n o t now realized i n modern European society. Why not? Rousseau had the answer; so d i d Schiller and Hegel and Marx soon after h i m . So-

ciety has become fragmented; the role of the individual has been t r u n cated and c u t off from the whole. Individuals are n o longer part o f

or representations of the universal; indeed, they struggle t o survive even against the universal. And each individual is no longer the ideal “whole human being,” which Schiller thought he found i n the ancient Greeks;’? he or she is now lost i n increasingly narrow and tedious jobs, “ t h e task a t hand.” I t is thus that Schiller envisioned a new har-

monious holism through

art

and morality, and that Marx, following

Schiller, looked forward to the day when a m a n could fish i n the

morning, hunt i n the afternoon, and be a whole and happy human being, instead of a fragment of one. But notice, this fragmentation is n o t the abstract individuality that we have been discussing under the labels “hedonism,” “romanticism,” and “pietism”; i t is a fragmentation within and determined by a certain kind of society. That society has a name; i t is the society dominated by the bourgeoisie,—biirgerliche

Gesellschaft o r “civil society.” T h e Phenomenology is not a political b o o k , despite the fact that H e -

gel was developing his political philosophy even as h e wrote it. There is virtually n o talk o f the formation o f the s t a t e and n o discussion a t all o f the soon to b e all-important notion o f classes (Stände). B u t i n the

lectures o f 1805-06 he talks a great deal about class society and the nature o f different classes, a n d it is i n the l i g h t o f this discussion that

what I shall take the liberty of calling “the spiritual zoo” of the Phe72. Schiller: “Why 1s i t that the individual Greek was able t o be the representative o f his age and why can n o single m o d e r n m a n make a claim to be such? (Letters on Aesthetic Education). C f . Herder, “Since together w i t h the classes, ranks a n d professions,

the inner faculties have unfortunately become separated . . . n o single fragment partakes o f the whole any more.” A n d Rousseau, “We have among us physicians, geometers, chemists, astronomers, poets, musicians and painters, b u t n o citizens” (discussed i n Plant, Hegel, p p . 171, 21, 25).

Hegel’s Ethics

517

nomenology, the bourgeois society i n which individuality is taken t o be all-important, is t o be understood. The “zoo” is not about society as such, but only about a certain class i n a certain kind of society. The content of the “zoo” section is mainly concerned with work, but work is here (as opposed t o the labors o f the slave i n chapter 4) a component i n a social nexus; i t is meaningful only b y being judged

and admired by others, and i t expresses a man’s or woman's skills or talents only by being “externalized” in this social context (400-05). Here the familiar dialectic between the “inner” intentions and abilities of the worker and the “external” use and approval of it re-emerges, in much the same form that dictated the twists o f the “master-slave” relationship; the external approval is n o t always appreciative of the individual o n the basis of its actual products, and sometimes intentions and talents fail t o be realized a t all (406-14). B u t here is the synthesis previously missing between “disinterested” (impersonal) motivation and personal ambition and ability; people are capable of “disinterested” activity insofar as they are interested in the task a t hand, even i f they derive n o “selfish” gain from its completion. What they gain, instead, is public approval. Thus the interests served by the task are public and “disinterested,” but the individual is nevertheless wholly involved. (Consider a scholar laboring for years o n a study of a philosopher who has been dead for 150 years; o n the one hand, n o

task could be more disinterested and free from suggestion of personal gain; o n the other hand, n o enterprise would be more person-

ally cautious since, for the scholar—as Hegel indelicately puts it— “ t h e most important thing is his o w n vanity.” B u t , o f course, this is

merely a hypothetical example.) T h e fact that a n individuals task and accomplishments are n o t

measurable by the results alone, but dependent instead upon public approval, makes it all too easy for the individual t o feel neglected, unappreciated, and resentful. Circumstances betray o r prevent the

expression of skill, and there is a rejection of the external i n favor of the internal (from which Kant’s ethics, “there is nothing good without qualification except a good will,” takes its origins). Years later, i n 1843-44, Karl Marx will develop his first theory of “alienated labor” along much the same lines, inspired n o t only by Hegel but by the British political economists and Schiller.” I f Hegel here develops a similar theory, however, it m u s t b e understood not as

a precocious lament for the working class (for whom Hegel shows little sympathy) b u t as a Schiller-type objection t o the fragmentation 73. “Alienated Labor” i n his Early Writings, ed. Coletti (London: Penguin, 1974), esp. pp. 429-30.

518

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

o f distinctively bourgeois labor. The equation o f work and selfexpression, although it might romantically be projected into the boring, exhausting, unrewarding work o f the peasant or the industrial worker by those who have never been forced t o so support themselves, refers quite specifically t o the mental labors of the bureaucrat, the civil servant, the professor, w h o consider themselves a “universal

class,” working not just for their own interests but disinterestedly for The Good or The Truth. I n the Realphilosophie, Hegel divides up the classes or Stände of the society he knew. First there were “the lower classes” (“raw concrete labor,” the peasants, “the elementary class”). The peasant is without individuality; h e has his consciousness “ i n the earth.” H e toils; h e is

taxed, and the fact that the fruits o f his labors are used t o support noble lords and professional men from whom he receives no benefit i n r e t u r n is accepted by him as “just so.” H e does what he is told t o do. “ I n war this class constitutes an uncivilized mass . . . i t reflects only o n its individuality and it grows spiteful.” Liberal as h e may have been, Hegel shows n o semblance o f sympathy for the peasants’ lot; indeed,

he barely considers peasants human. Theirs is n o t the proper realm o f individuality o r society; they are simply “the uncultivated ground o f the whole.” T h e peasant plays n o role i n this “zoo” section o f the

Phenomenology, nor, Hegel adds i n the Realphilosophie, in the realization of “Spirit.” I t is as if, anticipating Marx’s proper complaint, the entire laboring class were considered to b e n o more than a natural resource, part o f the land to b e exploited b y bourgeois society b u t not

part of i t . ” The burger class (Biirgerstand) is another matter; the businessman is “human” and “has stepped o u t onto the earth.” H e moves t o the city; he has a skill; he owns property. “ H e knows himself as he is recognized i n his particularity, and he impresses the stamp of his particularity on everything.” H e wants t o assert himself and show off; he does n o t enjoy simple pleasure, as the peasant does: “ h e has the en-

joyment o f his own self-conceit.” Here is the general theme of the “zoo” —being recognized and appreciated for one’s work, one’s talents, one’s skills. T h e problem is, the “conceit” o f one’s o w n worth is never sufficiently expressed in external results; a writer finds that, however much praised, n o piece h e o r she has so far written is u p t o

snuff; i t all falls short; the n e x t one will be better. Thus begins the desperation (not only of writers) which resembles nothing more than 74. Cf. The Philosophy ofRight, 1203.

Hegel's Ethics

519

the hedonist’s insatiable search for pleasure—more, always more.’* The greedy culmination of the Biirgerstand is the merchant class (Kaufmannsstand), for whom reality is all external, “all having,” and money (“a great invention”) which makes possible infinite acquisition. “All needs are grasped together i n this one element.” Particular goods and labors can n o w b e “represented”; the signification o f money replaces

conceit. “Value is the jingle of coins.” Money becomes everything; “Currency m u s t b e honored, but family, welfare, life, etc, may all per-

ish.” How much this sounds like Marx, writing a half-century later. Here is Hegel's liberalism, n o t on behalf of the peasants, perhaps, but in his familiar resentment of the “merciless” entrepreneurial class. The business and merchant classes do, t o a certain extent, play a role in the “zoo,” not just as resources and providers but as social structures as well. Their work, though not self-expression in a more

exalted sense, is certainly the outward expression of individual abilities and talents i n a way that “unskilled” physical labor is n o t . But i n the terms of the Phenomenology, the important point is this—that the businessman and the merchant are not yet members o f a universal

class; their work is aimed at serving their own personal interests and n o t i n serving the whole. (There may be, a la A d a m Smith, a n “invis-

ible hand” that coordinates these personal interests into an over-all harmony, but this is n o t Hegel’s particular concern here.) I n contrast to the business and merchant classes, then, Hegel introduces his extremely important notion of a “universal class,” the class of workers who aim not just a t their own good but a t The Good of society. The civil servant, i n doing his job, aims a t nothing less than Justice, and the scholar, i n d o i n g his, aims a t nothing less than T h e

Truth. Later, i n the Philosophy of Right, the “universal class” will refer to the bureaucracy as a whole, from the least civil servant u p to the

supreme court justices.”’ I n the Phenomenology, it is clear that the “zoo” consists largely o f skilled, creative laborers, skilled in the sense that “execution” is essential (as i n a n artist o r a writer, as well as a craftsman), “creative” in the sense that “individuality” and “original deter-

minateness” are essential (411). Again, one might project these images o n a tradesman (there are, o f course, creative electricians, creative 75. I n Key Largo, Bogart sums u p the Hegelian dialectic t o Edward G. Robinson: “ I ' l l tell you what you want, Ricco; what you w a n t is more, always more.” “Yee-ah, that’s what I want, more,” sneers Ricco.

76. A n d yet, Hegel had read Smith only a few years before, and he is by n o means u n i m p o r t a n t i n the early lectures o n “Sittlichkeit” i n 1 8 0 2 - 3 ; see Harris and K n o x trans.,

System. p. 74ff. o f the Introduction. Also Plant, Hegel, p. 57. 77. Philosophy of Right, pp. 131-34.

520

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

accountants t o be sure) b u t i t is clear that the paradigm o f Hegel's concern here is the creative artist, w h o interfuses individuality and

objectivity, personal expression and the universal. A t the top o f the social pyramid (leaving aside the monarch), is a sub-class o f the “universal class,” the class o f the professional m a n (Geschäftsmann) whose work is “extremely divided, abstract. . . . ” His

“inner disposition is t o fulfill his duty.” I n particular, there is the scholar, whose duty is knowledge and “it is only the universal that counts.” This is “Science” (Wissenschaft) and it is only i n Science that “Spirit has any object i t can treat without reference t o desire and need.” I t is indeed the scholar who perfectly fits into the “zoo” imagery of the Phenomenology, b u t only as the paragon o f a certain kind o f society, a

society which in general praises individual devotion t o work and creativity but in fact makes this possible only for a very small and select group of people. Even t h e scholar, however, finds that this ideal o f dedication and

serving the universal as an individual has its paradoxes. This is the dialectic that defines the “zoo”; as the worker o f the universal class

externalizes the object of his labors (namely, Thought), his work is no longer his. (This is, o f course, the same argument we found in the

dilemma of the slave i n chapter 4, and i t is also the general model of “alienated labor” ın Marx.) The scholar’s talents will be evaluated by others o n the basis o f what h e has produced, and with this realization,

either the scholar refrains from production, content t o be judged on what he can convince everyone he can do, or he produces work no longer with a n eye to the universal so much as a total concern with

his own performance (415).’® Thus once again we find a paradox arising from the opposition o f internal (talent, intentions) and external (the products of one’s labors) and this paradox destroys the whole point of the “task in hand,” namely, “objectivity,” concern for the object alone. But this is n o t the paradox of the scholar alone. H e or she is only the most dramatic representation o f the ideal that permeates

the whole of bourgeois society, namely—the expression of one’s individual self in work that is a t the same time wholly objective and universal. I f this is impossible for the scholar, so i t is impossible too as a n

ideal for that kind of society which does indeed, as Hegel imagines, 78. This 1s a familiar phenomenon i n academia, o f course, the “brilhant” professor who never publishes a line. B u t the same phenomenon will be found i n all the professions, especially law and c e r t a i n specialities i n medicine, where “reputation” is often, a t

least for a long time, more powerful than performance. This is certainly not true, however, a m o n g craftsmen and skilled workers, for w h o m performance is the only t e s t o f ability, n o r 1s 1t t r u e o f businessmen and merchants, for whom it is n o t “what's inside” t h a t c o u n t s b u t t h e s o - c a l l e d “bottom line.”

Hegel’s Ethics turn

521

into a “zoo” —civilized, peaceful, and busy. Better than a Hobbe-

sian war o f all against all, but still a “zoo,” n o t Sittlichkeit, all the same.

The “zoo” section of the Phenomenology takes the individual t o be primary, but primary only ın the context of his o r her fellows. H e or she is by being recognized, n o t i n the crude mode of domination and submission, independence and dependence, as i n the “master-slave” parable, but by way o f having a place i n society, an exalted place as a producer, a creator, an agent o f self-expression. B u t this sense o f place

is always contingent on the views and the recognition of others, and one’s conception of oneself and one’s talents are made “actual” only i n outer, comparative expression (397-404). There is n o valid distinc-

tion between the inner character and the outer expression of character (401) (a familiar argument from chapter 3 and the first part o f 5 as well). The product of work makes a person’ inner n a t u r e explicit, but no single performance, or string o f performances, adequately represents the “true individual” (405). Thus the split arises between what one is and what one has done, and we are ambivalent

about what we are judging—the person or the work (406-09). Occasionally, one reaches “the heart o f the matter” and, in a single instance, gives full-self expression (the definitive poem, the perfect piece) but this too leaves unsatisfied the continuing existence o f the c r e a t o r (410). (Consider Rimbaud, who completed his master works before the age o f 21; what could h e d o with himself then?) A n d so one shifts from the emphasis o n the product to a n emphasis o n the process, the

activity itself (411-14), the same move that Hegel makes i n the Preface of the Phenomenology from the “results” of philosophy t o the activity itself. The emphasis is shifted t o the effort instead of the success (412-13) and even failures are interpreted as expressive successes (414);

much modern a r t might be included here, and reams of embarrassing poetry.” As the shift moves “inward” the work itself c o u n t s for less and less, the character o f the agent more and more (415). ( N o t l o n g after Hegel, the artist becomes a hero as such, even i n the absence o f work. T h e French romantics o f the 1830s were a prime ex-

ample, with the “Bohemian” image that we inherited from them.®°) 79. The expression “an important failure” makes sense only given this conception o f a r t , and t h e very i d e a o f “self-expression” a m o n g t h e Romantics o f 1806 had overwhelmed the m o r e traditional canons o f taste and appropriateness, n o t t o m e n t i o n

quality o f performance. 80. One thinks of Hugo’s friend, Théophile Gautier, a totally forgettable writer, expending his energies trying t o “exasperate the philistines.” I n Germany, o f course, these B o h e m i a n pretensions had begun a quarter-century before, w i t h the “Romantic circle” that Hegel so lampooned i n the PG. F o r them too, the image often outstripped the talent a n d t h e p e r f o r m a n c e , a n d Marx's comment, “It’s only sound,” is a n echo o f H e g e l ' s n o less sarcastic comments i n t h e Preface.

522

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

Intention soon becomes everything; seriousness becomes the primary virtue, n o matter what the results (417). M u t u a l criticism takes the

place of encouragement and approval (ibid.) and this i n turn makes the inward t u r n even more inevitable, until, finally, the only thing good i n itself, without qualification, is, as Kant says, “ a good will” I t is work that makes us into true individuals, Hegel argues, b u t

this clearly means that some forms of work—and some workers—are more distinguished as individuals t h a n others. I t is a professional’s

pretension and the ultimate bourgeois arrogance (so sarcastically described by Stendhal i n Red and Black, for example): a man’s worth ultimately depends n o t o n his work nor even o n his outer success b u t o n the inner talent a n d virtue that is reflected b y that success—or

even by the lack o f it. Some animals i n the “zoo” are thereby worth far more than others, even i f it is the others that d o the hard work

and bring about the results. I t is with this bourgeois bit of arrogance that we turn t o the most distinguished beast i n Hegel's “zoo,” the universal professional philosopher—Immanuel Kant.

MORALITY AND SITTLICHKEIT: T H E C R U C I A L C O N F R O N T A T I O N ( 5 , C , b . & c.)

I t is impossible to conceive anything at all i n the world, o r even out o f it,

which can be taken as good without qualification, except a good will. Intelligence, wit, judgement, and any o t h e r talents o f the mind, as qualities o f tem-

perament, are without doubt good and desirable in many respects . . . but [it is] a good will that [alone] constitutes the indispensable condition o f our very worthiness t o b e happy. —Kant, Foundations o f the Metaphysics o f Morals

T h e two short sections o n Kant’s morality, “Reason as lawgiver” (419—

28) and “Reason as testing laws” (429-37), are indisputably among the m o s t important sections i n the Phenomenology. I f they are short, that is perhaps because here more than elsewhere Hegel knew exactly what he was arguing, for he was repeating arguments he had already published at greater length, and n o more obscurely. I n particular, the

arguments here against Kant had already appeared i n his “Natural Law” essay i n 1802-3, and in his System der Sittlichkeit, based o n lectures of the same period. The role o f Kant here is unmistakable, and the juxtaposition o f Kant’s morality—as the final form o f consciousness i n “Reason” and “Individuality”—and Sittlichkeit, as t h e first sec-

Hegel’s Ethics

523

tion of the chapter o n “Spirit”, is the definitive move of Hegel’s entire philosophy.8! The general drift of the Phenomenology is from the particular t o the universal, and the ethical argument thus far i n “Reason” is a series of transitions from the very particular search for the good life i n individual pleasure, to the still individual but more universal concern for virtue ( i n which the concept o f “law” is introduced), and now to the

fully universal concept o f moral law as embodied in Kant’s Critique of Practical Reason. I t is still part o f “Individuality” because this law is to

be found i n and validated by each and every rational individual, but it is universal i n that there is one and only one set o f laws that is valid

for all people, even “every rational creature.” B u t i f the drift in general is from the particular t o the universal, i t is equally important t o appreciate Hegel's insistence o n the “determinate” particular. The problem with hedonism, with the “law of the heart” and the virtuous ascetic, the problem with the Stoic, the Skeptic, and the medieval Christian t o o , and finally, the problem with Kant, is that the individual self that is supposed t o be the locus of selfhood or the good life is, o n closer examination, n o one i n particular at all. I t is a n artificially

conceived atom i n isolation from society and culture which alone can give i t meaning. They all prove to b e n o t what they seem, not a conception o f self o r the good life, b u t a k i n d o f confused abstraction from concrete social lite o r Sutlichkeit which will not bear critical examination. This is just as true o f Kant’s formalist ethics as the hedo-

nist’s search for pleasure and the Stoic’s search for freedom; i t is witho u t content, wholly indeterminate, a n d , consequently, empty.

For the reader who is n o t already well versed i n Kant’s moral philosophy—in fact, for the reader who & well versed—Hegel’s presentation o f Kant will n o doubt seem inadequate and unfair. Considering

that Hegel for years took Kant’s word as unquestioned law i n these matters, the glib dismissal of what he himself thought t o be the most important single theory in the entire history o f ethics is indeed scandalous. Kant’s theory is opaquely introduced i n t w o short paragraphs (419-20); the presuppositions of the theory (that morality is the essence o f [practical] self-consciousness a n d that reason knows “immediately” what is right and good) are presented in two even shorter 81. This is, o f course, a particularly “ethical” over-all view, but the same point can

be made, and is often suggested by Hegel himself, with reference t o the shift from Kantian “Understanding” t o “Reason” (and the logical shift t o “the Idea”). One might take the historicist Hegel t o the e x t r e m e and even interpret these more cognitive shifts i n t e r m s o f the ethical t u r n ; indeed, Hegel suggests no less than this both in the last paragraph o f the PG’s Preface and in his Logic o f the Encyclopaedia, 6, 7, 13, 14.

524

Hitching the

Highway o f Despair

paragraphs (421-22); and the theory is tested and rejected i n less than another seven pages (423-28). This is quite a novelty for a theory

which, even in Hegel’s time, had already inspired scores of enormous volumes of exposition, criticism, and defense. Without attempting t o provide another précis of Kant’s moral theory, i t is nevertheless necessary to state with some simple clarity the prop-

ositions which Hegel is here presenting and challenging so tersely. First of all, Kant’s moral theory is based on his notion of rational autonomy, o n the ability o f each individual t o recognize the good, o n the basis of reason.®? Indeed, i t is reason that gives us the principles that define the good, and for this reason, Hegel aptly titles his first section on Kant (chapter 5, C, b.) “Reason as lawgiver” (die gesetzgebende Vernunft). The reason here described is what Kant calls “practical reason,” which i n Fichte had become “self-consciousness” as such, and this is what Hegel calls i t here (419). I t is individual, but it is also “ a universal self” (ibid.). T h e dictates o f reason, o r “the moral law,’83 are “absolute” and “authoritative” (420) insofar as, in Kant’s words, morality Is the intention [ “ w i l l ” ] “to act o u t o f respect for the law [that is,

reasons’s law] alone.”® Respect for the law (or “duty”) is sharply distinguished in Kant from personal desires and “inclinations,” for t o act “in accordance with” the law is quite different from acting “for the sake o f the law.”8 Kant begins his entire discussion by insisting (as we

have already quoted) that the only thing good i n itself and without qualification (i.e. “absolute”) is a “good will”.® What this will does is to present us with formal laws which are a t the same time applicable

to particular moral contents.?” The requirement of formality is demanded by the very fact that these are rational (not merely empirical) laws; the requirement of applicability, of course, is essential t o having a morality, as opposed to a merely abstract and inapplicable concep-

tion o f virtue, as i n “Virtue and the way o f the world.” I n a n unforgivably obscure rendition o f Kant, Hegel insists that T h e object [ o f morality] is i n its o w n self real as object, for i t contains w i t h i n itself the distinction characteristic o f consciousness; i t divides

itself into “masses” (Massen) or spheres which are the determinate laws o f the absolute essence. These “masses,” however, d o n o t obscure the

Concept [Begriff], for the moments o f being and pure consciousness 82. FMM, pp. 399-402, 430-31, 440-41]. 83. I b i d . p . 392: “the sole aim o f the present work is

to

seek o u t and establish the

supreme principle o f morality.” 84. Ibid., p. 400-01. 85. Ibid., p. 397-98. 86. Ibid., 393. 87. Ibid. ch. ii. esp. p. 421 ff.: Hegel, “Natural Law,” pp. 75-80.

Hegel's Ethics

525

and o f the self remain enclosed within it—a unity which constitutes the essence o f these “masses” and which, in this distinction, no longer lets these moments fall apart from o n e another. (420)

Millers translation of “Massen” as “masses” only adds seriously t o the confusion; i n this context, i t m i g h t much better b e translated as

“criteria,” and then, a t least, we know what Hegel is talking about. As every introductory philosophy student knows, the heart of Kant’s moral theory—the embodiment of morality and duty—is what he calls “the categorical imperative.” (Hegel doesn’t use this term, b u t i f the reason

is t o avoid the impression that he is talking about Kant i n particular, the omission is perversity, n o t an appeal t o universality.) Kant’s phrase the categorical imperative (and the moral law) lends itself t o a certain a m o u n t o f confusion, as i f there were, i n effect, only a single law, a

s i n g l e criterion,

t o cover the w h o l e realm o f moral concerns, f r o m

cheating i n an algebra exam t o cold-blooded murder. Kant quickly lets us know, however, that although morality is unitary, i t does admit o f various “formulations,” such as,

Act only on that maxim through which you can a t the same time will t h a t it should become a universal law.%®

and

Act i n such a way that you always treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person o f any other, never simply as a means, but always a t the same time as an end.®

The categorical imperative may thus be a unitary phenomenon of practical reason, but i t nevertheless “divides itself” into more partic-

ular criteria which are more easily applicable t o cases. The various formulations o f the categorical imperative can in turn be further “di-

vided” (more accurately, “instantiated”) into particular moral rules, such as “ d o n o t l i e ” , “ d o not steal,” and “ d o n o t kill.” With this as background, Hegel sets u p his criticism o f Kant, which

is, simply, that such formal principles, no matter how further “divided,” never give us a sufficiently precise criterion t o make particular

moral decisions. Furthermore, the moral law is justifiable only in its o w n terms, n o t b y appeal to its origins and not b y appeal to its con-

sequences (421). (This is the meaning o f “autonomy.”) B u t how, then, can a particular moral law be justified? One might suppose that “sound

Reason knows immediately what is right and good” and that “this particular l a w ” is valid (422), b u t given Kant’s uncompromising conception o f autonomy, how could one decide for oneself between al8 8 . F M M , p . 4 2 1 ; Critique of Practical Reason, p . 30. 89. I b i d . p . 429.

526

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ternative laws? Kant here becomes, according t o Hegel, a kind of ethical intuitionist, who knows valid laws “immediately.” ® And indeed, though n o t so simply, Kant does take morality as a kind of given to be analyzed and explained, rather than justified. And this “ethical certainty,” like sense-certainty and self-certainty, is the focus o f Hegel's

objection. Hegel's argument, simply stated, is this: Kant assumes that a n ap-

propriately formulated moral imperative will both follow from reason itself and apply to particular cases unambiguously. B u t , Hegel

argues, there are any number o f formulations which follow from reason, all o f which are universal i n form, and none o f them, as univer-

sal, specify any particular behavior i n this particular instance. For example, i f the instance is a situation in which one is tempted to lie, the

appropriate moral law would be “everyone ought t o speak the truth” (242).°! Hegel's first move is this: he says, the commandment says one ought t o speak the truth, but what i t “means” is that one ought t o speak the truth if one knows it. T h e argument resembles the argument in “Sense-Certainty,” and the point is the same, t o show that

what looks like an unproblematic and unconditional claim i n fact has t o be qualified immediately. Once one admits that the imperative has t o be qualified, i t is n o longer “categorical” o r “unconditional”; it becomes, Hegel too quickly concludes, “completely contingent” (ibid.),

that is, “contingent” o n whether o r n o t I happen t o know the truth. The imperative remains universal in form, Hegel says, but a contingent content undermines this universality.

Hegel's argument here resembles many of the arguments in Plato’s Socratic dialogues, profound i n its insight, superficial and sophistical i n its presentation. The argument Hegel here anticipates (he had already developed i t to some extent i n his earlier “Natural Law” essay)

is an argument that has since become familiar t o every student o f Kant. Hegel is simply wrong when he suggests that the introduction o f a qualification which turns o n a contingency undermines the “universality” o f the law, for i f this were t r u e there would be no laws whatever insofar as every law has a c o n t e n t that t u r n s o n some contingency. (“Thou shalt n o t kill,” even i f utterly unqualified by “except i n

war,” etc., remains contingent upon the existence of some living beings w h o can be killed.) B u t what is true is that, having introduced one kind o f qualification, i t is n o t at all clear—as a matter o f “pure rea90. Walsh points o u t that Kantian commentators, including H. J. Paton, have held

this view t o o , for Kant did hold that certain moral conclusions “leap t o the eye” (Metaphysics o f Morals, 11), p. 8; Walsh, Hegelian Ethics p. 2 6 ; P a t o n , The Categorical Imperative (New York: Harper and Row, 196x), p. 138. 91. K a n t , F M M , p p . 4 0 2 - 0 3 , 441.

Hegel's Ethics

527

son” —where this qualification should stop. Either the law is a tautol-

ogy, o r i t is contingent; that is Hegel's argument. Could the law just as accurately be formulated as “tell the truth when you can” o r “tell

the truth unless you are a philosopher” o r “tell the truth i f you deem your listener worthy of it” or “tell the truth when you must” Are these all universal i n form, Hegel asks, and what qualifications are valid inclusions in the formulations of the law? As far as the notion o f “universal law” is concerned, there seem to b e n o criteria concern-

ing the validity of some formulations rather than others, apart from the general exclusion of particular references (names and pronouns designating particular individuals or groups). The most abstract laws are always incomplete and i n need o f qualification (“tell the truth”), while the most specific and qualified laws become so specific that they lose their status, i n practice i f not in form, as laws (“tell the t r u t h i f

you know it, i f you speak the same language as your listener, i f you have no reason t o believe that i t will be misunderstood or misinterpreted, i f i t will n o t do grossly more harm than good. . ” ) . What is i n question, i n other words, is the very notion of “universality.”%? Form is n o t enough, and the “idea of a universal, absolute content,” Hegel argues, cannot b e made intelligible (426).

I n a famous passage in his Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant argues that I t is doubtless i n this sense [ o f a n action d o n e for the sake o f duty]

that we should understand t o o the passages from Scripture in which we are commanded t o love our neighbor and even our enemy. For love o u t o f inclination cannot be commanded; b u t kindness d o n e

from duty—although n o inclination impels us, and even though nat-

ural and unconquerable disinclination stands i n our way—is practical, and n o t pathological love, residing in the will and n o t in the propensions o f feeling . . . *

I t is t o this passage that Hegel refers when he uses as his example, “another celebrated commandment . . . ‘Love thy neighbor as thys e l f ’ ” (425). Now, insofar as this is a matter o f reason and “intelli-

gence,” the amount o f good I can do for someone “as a n individual, is so insignificant that it is hardly worth talking about.” But insofar as my love for a person is a matter of “sentiment” (i.e. “pathological,” according to Kant), m y action is wholly contingent and transitory (ibid.). T h e argument here is inadequate b u t i t suggests, as Hegel obviously

knew i n his “Natural Law” essay, another argument o f considerable power; the question is n o t the impotence of individual action (which 92. F o r a n extended discussion and a defense o f Kant against Hegel, see Marcus

Singer, Generalization in Ethics (New York: Knopf, 1961), esp. p. 2511f. 93. Kant FMM, p. 399.

528

Hutching the Highway ofDespair

has nothing t o do with the Kantian or the Scriptural commandment) b u t the content o f morality i n general. Love (which we remember He-

gel had elevated t o the pinnacle of ethics only a few years before) always has a particular content, even if i t is, in fact, universal both i n

the sense that its moral worth is applicable t o everyone and that everyone ought t o be loved. The c o n t e n t of love, and thus the command t o love, is thus always personal, and it is in this sense that Hegel tells us, obscurely, that “such laws stop short at Ought, they have n o actuality; they are not laws b u t merely commandments” (425). I t is n o t m y purpose t o turn a pig's ear into a philosopher’s purse

here, and I think that it

must

be admitted by any reader that Hegel’s

arguments here are unsatisfactory. B u t what Hegel ought t o have said is rendered at least in his conclusion, which is that i t is n o t the “mak-

ing of the law” i n “the mere form o f universality” which is essential to ethics and morals (427) but the determinate content o f reason, which

means, particular people and particular situations (427-28). This is not to say (as a n ethical intuitionist might say) that one simply recog-

nizes the good, i n any particular case.° Reason still plays a role, which i n Kant appears as a “test” for deciding, for any proposed law o f

morality, whether it is indeed valid o r

not.

T h e distinction between section b (“Reason as lawgiver”) and section c (“Reason as testing laws”) may b e fine enough to try the patience o f the reader, b u t it is, o n the one hand, a distinction which c a n b e f o u n d , m o r e o r less, between t h e first t w o p a r t s o f Kant’s

Foundations of theMetaphysics ofMorals (and, t o some extent, between the

Foundations and its successor, the Metaphysics of Morals o f 1797) and, o n the other hand, a philosophical distinction o f some importance.

“Reason as lawgiver” claims that the moral law is presented by reason and can be known to be valid as such. T h e question is, how one knows

what the law given by reason might be and, ultimately, whether reason (as understood by Kant, as an autonomous individual faculty) is capable o f presenting us with any laws at all. T h e argument o f “Reason as testing laws,” however, is the more modest claim that, whatever the source o f the proposed laws, (whether given t o us by reason o r inclination o r suggested b y our friends), reason has the capacity to

tell us whether indeed it is a moral law or not. Hegel's argument against “Reason as lawgiver” was that, despite the 94. Both i n “The Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate,” and i n the “Love” fragment o f 1 7 9 7 - 9 8 ( b o t h i n Knox, p p . 1 8 2 - 3 0 1 , 302-8).

95. The British intuitionist-utilitarian G.E. Moore is exemplary as a contrast here, b u t there are strong elements o f i n t u i t i o n i s m i n Fichte, before Hegel. I n K a n t , however,

morality is always tied lar.

to

universal principles and never consists o f an isolated particu-

Hegel's Ethics

529

original appearance o f certain laws i n unqualified universal form, i t turned o u t that they were indeed qualified, and that once these qual-

ifications were made explicit, we lost what we originally thought that we had, a truly universal and absolute law that was independent o f

all contingencies. The argument against “Reason as testing laws,” accordingly, m u s t be that, n o t only does the moral law inevitably include contingencies, b u t t h a t t h e “ t e s t ” o f s u c h laws is also based o n contin-

gencies and prior evaluations and it is not, therefore, as Kant had argued, a question o f purely formal considerations, i n particular,

“logical consistency.” Kant’s argument, given his ambition t o present a purely formal conception o f moral laws as based o n reason alone, required that the criteria by which we j u d g e d o u r moral “maxims” (our intentions to act) could not depend o n the merely empirical (therefore “contin-

gent”) predictions about the actual consequences of our actions. This would turn morality into a matter of predicting and testing the consequences of action and evaluating these consequences in terms of their good and bad effects, which is t o sacrifice moral concerns t o the contingencies of circumstance and sacrifice the moral notions of “right and wrong” t o the merely utilitarian notions of “good and bad.” I t is important t o see what is wrong with “contingencies”; Hegel is n o t here imposing on Kant anything that Kant did n o t himself demand. I f reason is t o deliver t o us a priori commandments which are valid as laws, i t m u s t d o so w i t h o u t reference t o consequences and without

reference t o the particularities of circumstances and personal “inclinations” i n any given case.’ Similarly, i f reason is t o “test” proposed laws a priori (that is, n o t the proposed law but the standards of the test m u s t be a priori) that test m u s t be independent o f the circumstances, irrespective of consequences and unconcerned with inclinations; thus, “the only thing that is good without qualification is a good will.” T h e fact that, with the best intentions, one caused a wholesale

disaster and mass unhappiness is n o t of moral relevance, and the fact that, despite malicious intentions, one brought about a great good for a great many people, is n o reason for praise o f any kind either. This

is why Kant is so adamant that truly moral considerations be unmixed with merely contingent and particular considerations, and 1t is why Hegel takes such evident delight i n showing how morality and moral laws, i n every case, are hopelessly impure and contaminated with contingency.

What kind o f a

test

o f laws could be carried o u t without any refer-

96. K a n t , F M M , p p . 428-29.

530

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ence to consequences, circumstances, o r inclinations? O n e kind o f test

i n particular—an appeal t o logical consistency. A law can be judged by its effects only by considering the persons and situations in which i t will be used, but i t can be evaluated for its consistency without considerations of this kind. What Kant means by “inconsistency” is by no means straightforward: i t is n o t the simple inconsistency o f a concep-

tual falsehood (e.g. “Tell the truth when you lie” or “Don’t steal anything that is n o t already your own”) but the complex inconsistency o f the following procedure; 1) generalize the maxim (intention) o f your action. (Ask yourself,

“what i f everyone were t o act sor”) 2) see i f the generalization contradicts itself, in the sense o f making the original maxim impossible t o carry out.” The word “impossible” i n (2) refers t o logical impossibility; it is n o t enough if, when generalized, the maxim has disastrous consequences o r becomes extremely difficult t o carry o u t . (Thus the hedonist, if he generalizes his maxim “enjoy yourself, even at others’ expense,” may find i t increasingly difficult t o enjoy himself, and the world may indeed become an intolerable and unhappy place, but this alone is not enough t o show that hedonism is inconsistent.) If, for example, we take the Kantian example of promise-keeping, the argument would be as follows: (1) we generalize o u r maxim ( “ I a m going t o make a promise that I know I can’t keep”) into a universal law (“Suppose everyone would make promises they didn’t intend t o keep?”) (2) we evaluate this generalization for its consistency, i n the sense

noted. Kant says, I see straight away that this maxim can never rank as a universal law o f n a t u r e and be self-consistent, but m u s t necessarily contradict itself. For the universality o f a law that everyone believing himself t o be i n need can make any promise he pleases with the intention n o t t o keep i t would make promising, and the very purpose o f promising itself impossible, since no one would believe he was being promised anything, but would laugh a t utterances of this kind as empty shams.®

This is reason’s role i n testing laws, testing the consistency of generalized maxims. Inconsistent generalizations are conclusively n o t moral. ( I t is n o t so clear that consistent generalizations are therefore moral,

which is why so much of morality so conceived is negative, i.e. laws t o $ 7 . O n e c a n imagine a c i r c u m s t a n c e o r a s t r a t e g y i n which e i t h e r o f t h e s e w o u l d n o t h e a u s c t u a l inconsistency, o f c o u r s e , but, a t face v a l u e a t least, t h e y are i n c o n s i s t e n t i n a n o b v i o u s w a y i n which “ l i e i f y o u h a v e t o ” i s not.

98. FMM, pp. 417-23. 99. Ibid. 422-23.

Hegel’s Ethics

531

the effect o f what one ought not to do.) I t is this role that Hegel n o w

challenges. B u t before we state his argument, let us repeat his motive: i f h e can show that individual rational autonomy is inadequate both

i n the formulation and the testing of moral laws, then he has his argument for the necessity o f Sittlichkeit, the “ethical order,” which these

abstract formulations of moral laws i n fact presuppose, even i f (as i n Kant) it 1s ignored. The ground we have just examined is covered quickly (429); i f reason 1s n o longer considered to be authoritative w i t h regard to the

presentation of moral laws, it may still be authoritative as the test of them. (The argument is confused by distinguishing moral consciousness, o n the one h a n d , a n d “we”—Hegel and his readers—on the other.) A n d so, without looking at either origins o r consequences, we

look a t “the commandment simply as commandment,” testing i t impersonally and without moral concern ourselves (ibid.). But, the test

does n o t get very far (430). “The criterion 1s a tautology,” Hegel tells us, and “indifferent to the content, one content is just as acceptable t o it as its opposite.” To say that “the criterion is a tautology” is a somewhat misleading way of saying that the only criterion for acceptability t o be decided by reason alone is logical consistency and that, on the grounds o f logical consistency, could it n o t be t h a t a moral proposition and its opposite might both be consistent? Hegel's example, which he had developed i n some detail in his “Natural Law”

essay,'? is the case o f (private) property, which leads both into a gen-

eral consideration o f distributive justice and the quite specific commandment against stealing—which presupposes that someone owns the property to be stolen.!°! Suppose we generalize the principle that there ought to b e property; there is n o contradiction. N o w suppose

that we generalize the principle that there should be no property, “that something belongs t o nobody, or t o the first-comer who takes possession o f i t , o r to all together, to each according t o his need o r in

equal portions . . . . ” But this gives rise t o no contradiction either. I n what follows (430-31) Hegel considers various formulations of property and non-property i n relationship t o need and accessibility, b u t

what he concludes is simply that, as general laws, neither private property nor communism generate any contradictions, even if, i n the attempt to apply specific laws to specific cases, one does find para100. “Natural Law,” p p . 7 9 - 8 3 . The “tautology” language comes from there as well. 101. This excludes considerations o f public property, which is owned by n o one (or b y everyone) b u t can still obviously b e stolen. That is n o t relevant t o t h e argument here. O f course, H e g e l also could n o t have k n o w n about the twist o f the argument p r o v i d e d

by Pierre Proudhon several years later when he announced, flatly, “property is theft.”

532

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

doxes. B u t these are the same i n either case, since i t is the very nature

of “things” that they are n o t as such owned (which Hegel confusingly refers to as their “universality”’) and so again we have n o ruling about

what is moral and what is not.!°% N o w Kant would conclude at this point that n o moral issue is in-

volved, thus eliminating Hegel's putative counter-example as a counterexample t o his moral claims. But here the question should be pushed— What moral laws are so testable, such that reason and consistency alone can tell us what t o d o o r n o t to do? There is n o question about what Hegel ought to d o at this point; h e should consider more examples.

Consider the obviously moral commandment “Thou shalt n o t steal,” for instance: i f one generalizes the maxim “don’t steal,” d o we get a contradiction? Yes we do, i n the sense that, i f everyone took what they

wanted the institution of private property would be undermined i n just the same way that the institution of promise-keeping is undermined, according t o Kant. But are these institutions themselves desirable? This is the question reason does n o t ask, and i f Hegel had here pursued an argument he had already used (in the “Natural Law” essay) he could have struck a powerful blow against Kant: namely, that all that Kant’s criterion shows, at most, is that a certain institution,

which a given maxim presupposes, could n o t be sustained, given a certain generalized principle. But surely the question of stealing depends o n o u r evaluation o f the institution o f private property (consider a young communist, who steals o n principle) just as o u r evalu-

ation of breaking promises depends upon our evaluation o f the institution of promise-keeping.!%® Hegel's conclusion here might then justifiably be that Kant has begged the question; he has accepted certain institutions without question and then defended certain principles that define them with a circular argument. This is his “tautol-

ogy,” that i f you accept the institution of promise-keeping you also accept the necessity o f keeping your promises (whether o r not you

actually do so), and i f you accept the institution o f private property, you also accept the commandment that you ought not t o steal other people’s property (even i f you do so). Unfortunately, Hegel pursues n o such argument i n the Phenomenology. O n the basis o f the single

argument about “property” (430-431), one would n o t be unjustified in concluding that Hegel has n o t even begun to make his case against 102. Cf. Philosophy of Right, 135: “ . . . by this means any wrong o r immoral line o f

conduct may be justified.” 103. See Walsh, p . 23. M a r x takes this same argument ( i n his early writings) and

it around i n the predictable way; it is the illegitimacy o f the institution o f property that lends a certain legitimacy t o the a c t o f theft. turns

Hegel's Ethics

533

Kant. This is unfortunate because I believe that h e does have a case, and a good one. ! % I n what follows, Hegel brings t o a close the entire discussion of the search for the good life and individual morality. H e points o u t that even the most honest moral philosophers tend t o become lost i n fid-

dling around with the criteria for testing moral laws instead of engagi n g themselves i n the moral world itself (433). H e expresses the dan-

ger of intuiltionism i n reaction t o this, i n which laws appear “each by itself immediately as a reality,” often inconsistent and arbitrary, as in the “ l a w o f t h e heart.”

To legislate immediately i n that way is thus the tyrannical insolence which makes caprice into law and ethical behavior into obedience t o such caprice. (434)

Worst of all, there are those philosophers who, because they have learned to see through the pretense o f rational tests o f laws, have “ t h e

insolence of a knowledge which argues itself into a freedom from absolute laws, treating them as a n alien caprice” (ibid.). I n other words, they become nihilists, like Nietzsche, declaring themselves above o r

beyond the law just because they have the philosophical ability t o refute all rational claims and all possible tests and arguments.!%5 But this is the m o s t dangerous confusion, and the ultimate reason for rejecting n o t only Kant but the whole of individuality as an approach to

ethics. T h e moral force o f the law is to be found not i n reason ( i n

Kant’s individual sense of rational autonomy) but in the “reason” of an ethical community (435-36). N o law has its grounds i n “the will o f a particular individual” (not even the king); “ i t is the absolute pure will of all” “ I t is not a commandment, which only ought to be; i t is and is valid” (436). I n other words, i t is not a set o f ideals which are to be

juxtaposed against the actual practices and deeds of men and women, b u t the system of those practices and deeds as such. Whether we are consciously aware o f that system—in the sense o f being able to for-

mulate and canonize i t into bold propositions, as i n the Ten Commandments o r as i n Kant’s morality—is not, first o f all, the crucial

moral question. The crucial question is that there be such an ethical order, and this has nothing t o do with the individual o r with prin104. As stated, perhaps, Hegel is fairly characterized by Singer as “incredibly simplem i n d e d , ” b u t i f developed, I t h i n k t h a t H e g e l c o u l d show, as D o n Locke has recently

shown for example, that all plausible theories o f universalization in ethics t u r n o u t be trivial (“The Trivializability o f Universalizability,” Philosophical Review, 1968).

to

105. Nietzsche himself, o f course, had o t h e r reasons besides; n o t so, perhaps, w i t h most latter-day academic nihilists, for w h o m “nihilism” 1s n o t a n ethical position b u t t h e absence o f sound arguments for any ethical position.

534

Hatching the Highway of Despair

ciples and their justification nor with that limited sense of “rationality” that philosophers before and after Kant have tried t o foist on us. The key t o ethics and morality too, therefore, is what Hegel calls Sittlichkeit, a sense o f ethical order and community that precedes artic-

ulation, whose practice is the basis for its justification (rather than the other way around), in the life o f the unity which permeates them, unalienated spirits t r a n s parent t o themselves, stainless celestial figures that perserve ın all their differences the undefiled innocence and harmony o f their essential n a t u r e . (437)

The reappearance of ancient Greek tribalism is n o t at all hidden here, and Hegel even quotes Antigone; They are n o t o f yesterday or today, but everlasting, Though where they came from, none o f u s can tell.!%¢

The “tautology” re-emerges, not as a philosophical embarrassment, b u t as a new form o f certainty; I t is n o t , therefore, because I find that something is n o t selfcontradictory that i t is right; on the contrary, it is right because it is what is right. . . . By acknowledging the absoluteness of the right, I am within the ethical substance; a n d this substance is thus the essence o f selfconsciousness. (437)

c. Suttlichkeit and the Origins of Alienation (chapter 6) There is a difference between arguments from and those t o first principles. . . . We m u s t begin with things known t o us. Hence any one who is t o listen intelligently

Just...

to

lectures about what is noble and

have been brought up in good habits. For the fact is point, a n d if this is sufficiently plain t o him, he will n o t

must

the starting

a t t h e start n e e d t h e r e a s o n as well; a n d t h e m a n w h o h a s b e e n brought

up well has or can easily get starting points. —Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics

Suttlichkeit is morality as established custom, n o t a s e t o f principles. Sittlichkeit is shared activity, shared interests, shared pleasures; i t is n o t

first of all, and perhaps n o t a t all, rational reflection on the rules. Sittlichkeit is found as “fact,” as Aristotle tells us; our moral principles are derivations, formulations, impositions upon the facts. This is n o t 106. Antigone, q u o t e d i n P G , 437.

Hegel's Ethics

535

t o say that Sittlichkeit has no rules, or that the rules cannot be criticized o r even rejected o n rational reflection; but i t is t o insist that first there m u s t be such rules and the practices i n which they are embodied. So-

ciety is not, as in Hobbes a n d Rousseau, first o f all a conference for

the purpose of establishing the rules; society is that set of rules and practices. Their justification and legitimacy, the search for reasons, comes later, i f a t all. For the moment, “this is just the way i t is done,

and the way i t has always been done.” This is “the unmoved ground and starting point for the action o f all, their purpose and goal” (439). Chronologically, therefore, and also logically, the forms of consciousness that made u p “Reason,” in particular, “morality,” already presuppose the existence of Sutlichkeit, and chapter 6 should precede chapter 5. B u t i n terms o f the dialectical argument, the reverse order is significant, for primitive Sittlichkeit i n fact corrects the problems we have found in the preceding forms; the “alienation” of individual and society that Hegel diagnosed i n his early writings and i n his discussion of hedonism, the gap between individual feelings and universal laws that he discovered i n Romanticism, the opposition o f virtue and selfinterest, the tension between the competitive but supposedly cooperative members of the “zoo” and the abyss between Kantian moral principles and the particular circumstances i n which they are t o be applied. I n Sittlichkeit, pleasure is essentially shared pleasure and interests are essentially shared interests, action turns o n right teaching

and good judgment i n particular circumstances, and cooperation is n o t a special circumstance but the assumed constitution of the group. As Aristotle tells us so clearly (and there is n o doubt that i t is ancient

Greece where Hegel's ideal is t o be found), the facts come first and we learn these l o n g before we enter into philosophy and try to ration-

alize them. Indeed, Aristotle tells us, without good upbringing and familiarity with the practices first, there would be nothing t o talk about in moral discourse. Kant’s “rational autonomy” is a myth; i t is a philosopher’s invention, a n apparatus that is supposed to operate i n a social vacuum, a n d , consequently, has nothing to do.

The key t o understanding Sittlichkeit is the notion of a practice.’” A practice o r set o f practices might have a set o f explicit rules (as in

chess or music composition) but i t need not have any such rules. What i t does have is a set o f success conditions—whether o r not these a r e

easily formulated—a set of examples that define what “doing well” consists in, and “doing poorly” t o o . There may be rules for surfing, horseback riding, singing rock-and-roll, burying the garbage, and 107. The analysis which follows owes much

to

Alasdair MacIntyre, i n seminar and

i n After Virtue ( N o t r e D a m e : N o t r e D a m e U n i v . Press, 1981).

536

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

kissing, b u t these are rarely i f ever articulated as such, and when they are, i t is usually i n a somewhat belated attempt to correct a continuing

error. What constitutes proper skiing technique, for example, is primarily one’s proximity t o certain examples and one’s success in getting down the mountain vertically and in one piece. I n d e e d a “natu-

ral” skier might find him o r herself completely unable t o say anything o f interest about “ h o w ” they d o i t o r even “what” it is that they are doing. Yet there is n o doubt that, whether o r not there are formal

rules (these are usually made up, somewhat arbitrarily and always derivatively, by olympic committees and other bureaucracies) anyone familiar with the practice would already know “good” from “terrible.” Someone not so familiar, even armed with a detailed set o f rules and checklists, would not k n o w t h e difference. (Consider a n American asked to evaluate his o r her first cricket match, o r bullfight, o r Ba-

linese cockfight.) A practice, essentially, has a history. “This is the way i t 1s done, and this is how i t has been done.” N o t always, perhaps; one might know

of a time when things were done differently, when horses were ridden without saddles and rock-and-roll was played without electronic amplification, but every practice is by its nature established as given, its ideal examples and implicit norms n o t easily open to question. O n e can challenge them, b u t only by assuming that they are already estab-

lished t o be challenged. “But we’ve always done i t that way” is in itself a prima facie reason for continuing t o d o it that way i n Sutlichkeit. (According t o Kant’s insistence on “rational autonomy,” of course, i t is no reason at all.) Though Sittlichkeit might often seem “irrational” t o those o n the outside (as i f those o n the outside counted for anything any

way) it also provides the only basis for rationality that there is.!® “Spirit,” i n other words, is quite properly the successor t o “Reason” in the Phenomenology, for the latter presupposes the former, unreflectively,

as Sittlichkeit. Sittlichkeit is a set o f practices, a way o f doing things, with a history, without reflection, without question. Indeed, once the unquestioning, pre-reflective acceptance is broken, the legitimacy of Sittlichkeit is seriously threatened, for, using rationality alone, i t is n o t at all difficult, as the Sophists showed in their daily debates, to reduce all maxims and laws to pointlessness (747), and even a Socrates, desperately searching for some rational absolute t o re-establish them, cannot succeed (ibid.). T h u s Aristotle insists that ethics turns first o f all n o t o n 108. Which is

not to

say, again, that there is n o t o r c a n n o t be any “rational” consid-

erations w h i c h e x t e n d beyond a given community, o r are even “universal.” B u t there is

no extra-ethical source o f such considerations.

Hegel’s Ethics

537

“the Good” but on right perception and good judgment (phronesis),!°® and that i t is teaching and practice that make u p morality, n o t mere ratiocination.!!® Since a person is defined b y his o r h e r upbringing

and place i n society, the individual and individual pleasures and interests are themselves determined by the society. Nothing is more detrimental t o the understanding o f Sutlichkeit (except, perhaps, the Kantian ideal o f rational autonomy) than the insistence that the legitimacy o f its practices be justified by appeal t o “extrinsic” rewards and individual self-interest.!!! Doing well i n the established practice and being accepted as part o f the group is itself the reward i n question, and the very idea o f “extrinsic” rewards already signals the fatal breakdown o f Sittlichkeit.''? Individual interests and group interests therefore coincide; personal virtue and the needs o f the group are mutually defining, and what one “feels like doing” o r “perceives as right” is always—in a coherent society—the same as what the moral

rules—if there are any—demand. The fact that Suthchkeit may be unreflective does n o t mean—as strict defenders of the “rational autonomy” ideal sometimes suggest—that in such a primitive state there is n o individuality. Quite the contrary;

individuality is defined by the group and it is i n distinct individuals that the practices and the solidarity o f the group have their foundation (439, 444). B u t the individual as a function o f the group

is something other than the individual o f hedonism o r romanticism o r rational autonomy; h e o r she is defined b y roles, b y duties, b y

expectations, by relationships, by status, by all of those interactions which b i n d a person t o others, instead o f those ephemeral preten-

sions o f “virtue” and “the law of the heart,” the self-defeating pursuit 109. Ethics, B o o k II, esp. c h . 9.

110. Ibid. Book I I , esp. ch. 1. 111. MacIntyre illustrates “extrinsic” and “intrinsic” rewards by considering a child t o whom we are teaching the game o f chess. A t first, we offer him or her rewards for correct moves; soon, we assume, h e o r she will take delight i n simply doing well a t the game; the former rewards a r e extrinsic, the latter are i n t r i n s i c rewards. Indeed, i f the child never learned t o recognize a good move, b u t only learned which moves to make i n order to get a n “extrinsic” reward (a piece o f candy, etc.), we should probably say that h e o r she had n o t yet learned the game. So too, a tourist may have learned to

behave—or n o t t o behave—in certain ways i n a foreign city, but insofar as the tourist is simply imitating behavior i n o r d e r t o stay o u t o f trouble o r enjoy the visit, we would surely say that he o r she does n o t understand and is n o t part o f this other society and i t s practices.

112. One can easily imagine Hegel providing an analysis o f contemporary American society, in which it is all t o o generally conceded that people behave and obey the law largely

to

avoid punishment o r to “get ahead,” with little reverence for the integrity

o f society as such. (“What's i n i t for me?”) B u t even t o ask about one’s personal stake is t o signal the loss o f Sittlichkeit, and this is so whether o r not—what is palpably n o t the case—everyone’s good would be maximized by the general obedience o f the law and

acceptance o f the (legal) status quo.

538

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

of personal pleasure and the purely formal and uninformative dictates of “practical reason.” Over and above n o t only each individual b u t all individuals t o o , t h e r e i s Sıttlichkeit itself, t h a t set o f traditions

and the sense of “Spirit” that, though it does n o t exist apart from and is i n n o sense opposed to individuals, nevertheless has a status, i f not

an existence, o f its own. Hegel makes this sound extremely mysterious, b u t i n fact i t is n o t h i n g more t h a n the common observation that a sports t e a m o r a philosophy faculty o r a nation i n some essential sense continues to exist as such even when all o f the individuals i n i t

are replaced. I t would be a mistake, however, t o think that Sittlichkeit is simply a happy “natural harmony.” I n fact, Hegel tells us, Sittlichkeit splits u p into t w o opposed sets o f laws, “human and divine” (445, 448—653). The human law is what we have been calling “practice,” the established customs of a society, fully known, articulate when necessary, constitutive o f i n d i v i d u a l roles a n d social status (447-48). T h e D i v i n e Law, o n the other hand, is “ t h e simple and immediate essence o f the

ethical sphere” (449). The human law, Hegel tells us, is essentially the law of the state and the people (447-49); the Divine Law, however, is opposed t o this and opposed t o individuality (“individual being-forself”) as well (449). There is no question what Hegel has i n mind here; i t is an introduction t o the breakdown of primitive Sittlichkeit through an inner conflict of laws, as exemplified i n particular by Sophocles’ Antigone. I t is questionable, however, how well his analysts fits that play, and i t is a dubious account of the forces o f primitive tribal and family society. The interpretation, however, follows a familitar Hegelian fault line—between the finite (the limited practices o f a circumscribed g r o u p ) a n d the infinite (in this case, manifested b y the family). T h e assumption is that the family, which is “ t h e inner essence o f Sittlichkeit” (450) has n o t only a “natural status” (as Rousseau, for example, had argued) b u t even a “ d i v i n e ” a n d eternal o n -

tological status. The “New Right” i n America as i n Germany might well agree with Hegel's quasi-theological view of woman and family (“barefoot a n d pregnant” o r “Kirche, Küche, Kindern”), for the fact is that here, more blatantly than anywhere else, Hegel has conflated

cultural history and ontology—with sometimes offensive results.

H E G E L O N F A M I L Y A N D F E M I N I S M (6, A , a.)

. . . the feminine, i n the f o r m o f the sister, has the highest intuitive awareness o f what 1s ethical. She does n o t attain t o consciousness o f it, o r t o t h e o b j e c t i v e e x i s t e n c e o f i t , b e c a u s e t h e L a w o f t h e Family i s

Hegel's Ethics a n implicit,

539

i n n e r essence which i s n o t e x p o s e d t o t h e d a y l i g h t o f

consciousness, b u t remains a n i n n e r feeling a n d the divine element that is exempt from existence in the real world. (457)

T h e family represents a n ideal for Hegel—as for Rousseau, n o t a n

ideal that can be intelligibly striven for i n the modern state, perhaps, but nevertheless a model, embellished with nostalgia and no small a m o u n t o f wishful imagery, by which all social relations might be tacitly measured. A t least in certain societies (late 18th-century urban Germany among them) i t is the mother who symbolizes that family feeling. T h e r e can be n o doubt that Hegel sees the family as the cornerstone

of society, the original locus and the source o f education, i n

m o d e r n times, for children’s entrance i n t o civil society. H e seems to

give little attention t o other alternatives—to Plato’s suggestion that children be raised by the community, for example—and he calls the Roman law that children were t o be considered property o f their fathers “gangrene o f the ethical order.” ! ! * H e does n o t suggest, as some mode r n fascists have suggested,!!* that the state become, i n effect, a

monolithic extended family; but there can be no question that the family imagery of mutual affection, shared identity, and “immediate” unity—however much fact and however much fiction—is just as central to Hegel's thinking about Sittlichkeit as i t was to m u c h more neu-

rotic Jean Jacques Rousseau’s elaboration of the social contract.!!® Suttlichkeit may be a n ideal for Hegel, but n o t unreflective Sittlichkeit. The Greek polis was clearly n o t unreflective, and modern society, i n any case, has n o choice b u t to b e reflective.!'® I s reflective Sutlichkert

possible i n modern society? I t was possible for the Greeks, but only after c e n t u r i e s o f conflict a n d effort. A s G o e t h e says i n Faust,

What from your fathers you received as heir, Acquire, i f y o u w o u l d possess it.

113. Philosophy of Right, 173-75, esp. 175 Zusatze. Hegel's only discussion o f education here suggests that h e thoroughly accepts the “childhood” theory o f Rousseau a n d

others, though he expresses his doubts about Schiller’s “play” theory o f education (175). T h e over-all image is t h e relationship between parents a n d children as simply one o f

“love” (173) and no other considerations e n t e r into it. (Is i t m o o t t o remind ourselves t h a t Hegel's mistress was currently several months’ pregnant?) 114. Benito Mussolini, notably; see his “Doctrine o f Fascism,” trans. I.S. M u n r o (Rome: Encyclopedie Italiano, 1 9 3 4 ) .

115. Rousseau’s o w n fantasies about childhood are t o b e f o u n d i n his Emile (1762) a n d , o f course, I n his Confessions. The Social Contract is strategically limited o n such points.

116. This p o i n t was lost o n J o h n Stuart Mill, when i n his Utilitarianism h e argued that a p i g satisfied could consider n o other life, b u t Socrates, having experienced both

the pig’s pleasures and the pleasures o f reflection, wisely chose the latter. I n fact, Socrates had n o more choice about his lost “innocence” than the p i g had about the possi-

bilities o f becoming philosophically sophisticated by reading the Meno.

540

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

The established practices of the Greek community could become the polis of Aristotle only after the primitive Sittlichkeit of Greek tribal society had been broken and all but destroyed. The break, according t o Hegel, came with Antigone—not the play but the symbolic e v e n t — the inevitable conflict of “natural” family ties with the increasingly impersonal laws of the state. I n fact, the breakdown of Greek tribal life has been explained by historians by reference t o a dozen more tangible factors—the cost of the wars and the threat of the Persians, the rise of democracy and the coming o f the philosophers. B u t Hegel is n o t particularly interested i n history here, and what he is trying t o provide is an allegory o f inner conflict and a general account—using a particular fictional example of the breakdown of tribal society—in which family interests and societal interests are virtually the same, since tribal society is essentially nothing other than an “extended family.” ! ! ” One can ignore Hegel’s t o o predictable division of the laws into “human” and “divine” and render his point much more generally i n modern terms: as society

gets larger and m o r e complex, the authority o f the state o r government (whatever its form) and the autonomy o f the family are bound t o conflict,

a n d t h e legal s t a t u t e s o f s o c i e t y w i l l c o n t r a d i c t t h e moral

obligations of interpersonal relationships. A Mennonite couple i n Pennsylvania wish t o raise their children without sending them t o school, but state law intervenes, denying their autonomy i n such matters a n d asserting its o w n legal authority. A law legitimately consti-

tuted makes duelling impermissible, but long-standing codes of family and personal honor demand a duel i n certain circumstances. The law requires a young man t o e n t e r the army, but family morals proscribe killing for any reason. Creon commands that Polyneices remain unburied; family rules require that Antigone bury him. I n all o f these cases, i t is n o t merely a matter o f two antagonistic sets o f

rules, perhaps with

two

antagonistic groups supporting them; the

conflict is i n every case a potential inner conflict, a conflict between t w o equally valid commands within the individual who must choose between them. I n this, Antigone could n o t be bettered as an example. The problem is the n a t u r e and source o f these conflicting laws, according t o Hegel. One might argue that the division into “human” and “divine,” i n addition t o merely presenting once again the finite-

117. The phrase “extended family” already indicates what is wrong with the Hegelian analysis, as if the “natural” family consisted o f that truncated minimal unit o f motherfather-children, instead o f the whole complex o f kinship relations. Indeed, what Hegel considers “ n a t u r a l ” m i g h t well b e considered m o s t unnatural, even i n the context o f

modern society, a n d i f h e was looking for the sources o f “alienation” h e might better h a v e s t a r t e d there, i n s t e a d

o f h i s family

fantasy.

541

Hegels Ethics

infinite distinction, is a reproduction of an ancient fallacy i n Plato— that since the mind has conflicting aspects, it must have different parts

in which these aspects are embodied. Nothing could be less Hegelian, o f course, but the separation o f conflicting laws into t w o categories seems t o suggest just such a move. Indeed, there are traditions n o t

long removed from us that hold that it is family and inner morality that is strictly “human,” the laws o f larger justice and morality “divine”; and there are other arguments in Hegel (in the Philosophy of Right, in particular) that would support this.!!® A better interpretation, In m y opinion, is to see the first stage i n the argument as simply

the inevitable split in the solidarity o f Sittlichkeit as society begins t o grow, regardless o f where the fault lines o f that split may be. Before we go on t o investigate what Hegel says about the breakdown o f Sittlichkeit, however, i t might be more profitable t o look again at what h e takes the n a t u r e o f Sutlichkeit to be. I n fact, the discussion

in the Phenomenology 1s shockingly short (fewer than eight paragraphs). I t is, we are told, Spirit, which has n o t yet recognized itself as such (439). I t is, as Spirit, “self-supporting, absolute real being” (440); it precedes law and legality (442) and is “immediate truth” (441). A n d i n more concrete terms, i t 1s, first o f all, as “ a natural ethical community—the Family” (450). T h e family is the “element o f the

peoples actual existence” (ibid.); it is “immediately determined as an ethical being” (451). Here we recall Rousseau’s equally confident ann o u n c e m e n t a t the beginning of The Social Contract, T h e most ancient o f all societies, a n d the o n l y one that is natural, is the family; a n d e v e n s o t h e c h i l d r e n remain a t t a c h e d t o t h e f a t h e r o n l y s o l o n g as t h e y n e e d h i m for t h e i r p r e s e r v a t i o n . A s s o o n as

this

need ceases, the n a t u r a l bond is dissolved. T h e children released from obedience o w e d to the father, a n d the father, released from the c a r e h e o w e d

his

c h i l d r e n , r e t u r n equally t o i n d e p e n d e n c e . I f

t h e y r e m a i n u n i t e d , t h e y c o n t i n u e s o n o l o n g e r naturally, b u t v o l -

untarily; a n d t h e family i t s e l f is t h e n m a i n t a i n e d b y convention.

The family then may be called the first model of political societies; t h e r u l e r c o r r e s p o n d s t o t h e f a t h e r , a n d t h e people t o t h e c h i l d r e n ;

. . . t h e whole difference i s

that, i n

t h e family, t h e l o v e o f t h e f a t h e r

for his children repays h i m for the care he takes o f them, while, i n the s t a t e , t h e p l e a s u r e o f commanding

t a k e s t h e p l a c e o f t h e love

w h i c h the c h i e f c a n n o t have for the p e o p l e s u n d e r h i m . ! ' ?

Hegel

too

distinguishes between the family as a “natural” unit, held

118. Philosophy of Right, 257ff. I n Rousseau, t o o , the social contract a n d the laws are d i v i n e (Social Contract, p . 237). 1 1 9 . S o c i a l Contract, p p . 1 - 2 .

542

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

together by bonds of “feeling” and affection, and political societies i n which the union is rather i n some sense “voluntary” o r “conventional.” I f Hegel disagrees with Rousseau on the “independence” of individuals apart from the family and prior t o the formation of society, h e nevertheless gives the “natural family” its central role as the

model of Sittlichkeit, the ideal and even “divine” pre-reflective social reality within which all other bonds take their initial form. Hegel was n o t alone i n his time t h i n k i n g that the family was the

eternal social entity, with “man and woman” as its divine ingredients. I n d e e d i t was almost a platitude o f the period that the family is a n entirely natural a n d a timeless concept, that the ties between family

members are n o t a m a t t e r of rules or morals but of “immediacy,” that the “masculine and feminine” roles are somehow set by n a t u r e and fixed for eternity, that children are “naturally” the d o m a i n o f the

household and dependent on the family.!?° I n fact, these concepts were invented in the 17th and 18th centuries; what Hegel describes as “Divine Law” is in fact the s t r u c t u r e o f bourgeois society a t the turn o f the 19th century. This is not t o deny, o f course, that male-andfemale is a “natural” o r biological unit i n the m o s t obvious sense o r that there is some “natural” b o n d between parents and children that is n o t to be found, for example, i n the founding o f a n industrial community i n Northern Siberia b y a group o f strangers recruited from

around the country. But what anthropologists call unsentimentally “kinship relations” are n o t t o be confused with “family life” as de-

scribed by Hegel and Rousseau. Bonds of love may be delightful (in Rousseau’s case, a matter o f mere fantasy!?') b u t they are n o t the

essence of the family. The household is primarily an economic unit— i f we are talking about its genesis; family life in Greece, i n particular,

was far more a matter of politics and morality than of n a t u r e . (Aristotle, for example, talks m o s t about the family when he is talking about “honor,” and h e does n o t speak o f the family in terms o f love o r emotion at all.'?2) What we call “the family” was a by-product o f the ur-

banization and industrialization o f society, when self-sufficiency of the household came to a n e n d a n d smaller economic units were required 120. MacIntyre, noting Hegel’s agreement with Adam Smith and David Hume on the supposed irrelevance o f rules and considerations o f justice w i t h i n the family, comments

“ I can only conclude that they were never in families.”

121. Rousseau sent his o w n five children to orphanages u p o n the death o f their mother.

122. Ethics, Book I . O n justice i n the family, Aristotle comments that “there can be n o injustice i n an unqualified sense towards things that are one’s own” (including child r e n as property), Book V, ch. 6, p. 123. H e too distinguishes political justice (under

law) from household justice (with one’s wife) but a t no time does he analyze the latter i n terms o f such emotions as love and affection.

Hegel’s Ethics

543

by circumstances—when production moved beyond the small group and itself became a function of the larger society. What we call “the family” is one o f a number o f small-scale social arrangements with

sex and kinship as their basis, and Hegel has made the mistake of universalizing this particular arrangement as n o t only “natural” b u t

eternal. The fact is that i t is n o t “immediate” at all but rather the mediated structure of a particular kind of society.!?? This does n o t undermine the over-all argument of the Phenomenology, o f course, b u t i t does present us w i t h a n unusually clear warning—albeit late i n the game—that Hegels dialectic is more than a n

odd mix of history and logic; it is sometimes a confusion o f the two. T h e family i n some minimal sense, a m a n and a woman mating to

produce a child, may be “natural” i n any sense, but it is n o t conceptually necessary; a female chimpanzee takes on every male in the group, a n d h e r children are n o t i n the requisite sense p a r t o f what Hegel

calls “family” A woman might well mate with a series of males, with different males the father o f different children, and the children might

well become the heirs o f the father (as i n feudal society), the wards of the state (as i n Sparta and The Republic) o r the undifferentiated children of the group (as i n an Israeli kibbutz and many primitive farming communities). I point this o u t simply t o make i t quite clear that the “natural” relations o f a m a n and a woman, as a durable couple,

their affection for their children and the children’s expected affection i n r e t u r n and, especially, the expected mutual affection between siblings of the same family, is n o t a matter of “nature” and much less of “logic.” I t is a question o f social arrangements, expectations, child-

rearing practices and needs and, n o t least, conceptions of social roles regarding m e n , women, a n d children. I n fact, Hegel bases his ontology o f Sutlichkeit n o t only o n the no-

tion o f the (nuclear) family but o n the specific conceptions o f sex and

that now go along with it. The conception of childhood that is thought t o be essential t o the function o f the family is a modern notion, i n fact very much the conjuring o f the imagination o f unhappy Jean Jacques Rousseau—who imagined a childhood he thought he status

h a d missed. I n f a n t s a n d children are dependent a n d need to be educated, to be sure, b u t that distinctive period o f “innocence” a n d ir-

responsibility which we call “childhood” and have managed in r e c e n t years t o extend into the mid-twenties for brighter middle-class child r e n i s n o t t o b e f o u n d i n m o s t societies, a n d i n p a r t i c u l a r n o t i n

Greece, where a “ y o u t h ” may have been young a n d ripe for education 123. MacIntyre i n seminar, Feb. 1980.

544

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

but i n no sense a child.!** B u t far more essential t o the Phenomenology is the relevant relationships between m e n a n d women, both as a romantic couple and potential parents, and as brother and sister—which

Hegel takes t o be the ideal sibling relationship (456).125 Hegel lists three different family-relationships that fall under the domain of “Divine Law”—husband and wife, parents and children, brothers a n d sisters (456). With regard to the first a n d last, Hegel's views o f the relative roles o f m e n a n d women are, b y contemporary

standards, disturbing. Yet they were, i n his time, quite common, and some o f his more offensive pronouncements are virtual paraphrases from Rousseau, for example, the separation and independence o f the children (456). According t o Hegel, women are strictly dependent and supportive, intuitive and the ethical essence o f the family. Men, o n the other hand, are more independent and rational. Women are passive, m e n are active, a n d so on. Years later (then married) Hegel wrote

i n the Philosophy of Right; 1 6 5 . T h e difference i n t h e physical characteristics o f t h e t w o sexes

h a s a r a t i o n a l basis a n d c o n s e q u e n t l y a c q u i r e s a n i n t e l l e c t u a l a n d

ethical significance. This significance

is determined

by t h e difference

i n t o w h i c h t h e e t h i c a l substantiality, as t h e concept, i n t e r n a l l y s u n ders i t s e l f i n o r d e r t h a t i t s v i t a l i t y m a y b e c o m e a c o n c r e t e unity c o n -

s e q u e n t u p o n t h i s difference.

1 6 6 . T h u s o n e s e x i s m i n d i n i t s s e l f - d i r e m p t i o n i n t o explicit personal s e l f - s u b s i s t e n c e a n d t h e k n o w l e d g e a n d volition o f free universality, 1.e. t h e s e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s

o f c o n c e p t u a l thought

and the

voli-

t i o n o f t h e objective final e n d . T h e o t h e r sex i s m i n d maintaining i t s e l f i n u n i t y as k n o w l e d g e a n d volition o f t h e s u b s t a n t i v e , b u t

knowledge and volition in the form o f c o n c r e t e individuality and feeling. I n relation t o externality, the former is powerful and active, t h e l a t t e r passive a n d subjective. I t follows t h a t m a n h a s h i s actual

substantive life i n the state, i n learning, a n d so forth, as well as in l a b o u r a n d s t r u g g l e w i t h t h e e x t e r n a l w o r l d a n d w i t h himself s o t h a t

i t 1s only o u t o f his diremption that he fights his way t o self-subsistent u n i t y w i t h himself. I n t h e family h e h a s a tranquil i n t u i t i o n o f this u n i t y , a n d t h e r e h e l i v e s a subjective e t h i c a l life o n t h e p l a n e o f feel-

i n g . Woman, o n t h e o t h e r h a n d , has h e r substantive destiny i n t h e

family, and

to

be imbued with family piety is her ethical frame o f

mind.1%6

124. T h e view

that

childhood is i n fact a significant episode i n a person’s life, as

opposed t o various degrees o f young adulthood, can be contrasted with Aristotle’s discussions, where c h i l d r e n as such are mere “chattel” (Ethics, p . 123) a n d a y o u t h becomes

ethically relevant only after he is old enough t o know the rules and begin the trainin’, that will make him a citizen. The idea o f a “happy childhood” would have struck 2 ıy Greek as a bit o f conceptual nonsense—one called a child “happy” only because oc’ his potential for the f u t u r e . (Aristotle, Ethics, 1100a3) 125. C f . Philosophy of Right, 1611f a n d 167.

Hegel’s Ethics

545

I n t h e Phenomenology, virtually the w h o l e emphasis i s o n t h e relation

of brother and sister, which most commentators agree can be traced t o Hegel's own emotional relationship with his sister Christiane.!?” Adfeminem accounts aside, Hegel’s division of sexes has an ontological c a s t that is n o t t o be dismissed. When he argues that women are intuitively ethical a n d devoted n o t to a particular brother o r husband but t o family as such (459), he is once again trying t o provide an

eternal justification for a social structure which was, even then, arbitrary and somewhat insupportable, based as i t was on a society in which suddenly the labor o f women was lessened and new time-

consuming tasks had t o be manufactured. (MacIntyre: “the invention o f sewing, gossip and bad novels”) When Hegel argues selfcongratulatorily that “the loss of the brother is . . . irreparable t o a sister and her duty towards him is the highest,” he is n o t just reminding Christiane t o remember his birthday and setting u p the Phenomenology for Antigone; he is also putting together the foundations of a role model which extends far beyond this one essential step in the

dialectic. Indeed he leaves little doubt that it has become one of the essential structures o f n o t only Sittlichkeit, but of the whole Phenomenology of Spirit, which is now, admittedly, a male odyssey. We now have a happy i f wholly false picture of Siutlichkeit i n front o f us, a m a n a n d a woman, m u c h in love,!2® children w h o are also loved and, as brother a n d sister, love each other as well. T h e woman protects the family a n d the divine law; the brother reaches o u t t o the

larger community and “leaves this immediate, elemental and therefore, strictly speaking negative ethical life of the Family, i n order t o acquire and produce an ethical life that is conscious o f itself and actual” (458). H e enters the realm o f “ h u m a n law,” a n d puts himself primarily u n d e r its domain. T h e woman stays behind mn the imme-

diacy and “strictly speaking, negative ethical life of the Family,” subject primarily to the Divine L a w (ibid.). I t 1s sex, Hegel tells us, that determines the law. (“Nature, n o t the accident o f circumstance o r choice, assigns one sex t o one law, the other t o the other law” (465).)!2° 126. Ibid. 165-66. 127. K a u f m a n n Hegel, p . 143; W i e d m a n n , p p . 1 1 - 1 2 .

128. I have n o t here broached the argument that “love” too is a distinctively modern n o t i o n (as o f the 18th century i n Europe) a n d a n anthropological curiosity. I have argued this at length i n m y Love (New York: Doubleday, 1981). I n particular, the concepts o f “romantic love” a n d “brotherly love,” far from being “natural,” are taught to us only

with the greatest o f care, and any parent knows full well that the more “natural” affect i o n between siblings, as F r e u d r e m i n d e d the world, is as often homicidal as tender.

129. I n Philosophy of Right, Hegel summarizes his argument on Antigone as follows: F o r this r e a s o n , family piety i s e x p o u n d e d i n S o p h o c l e s ’ Antigone—one o f t h e m o s t suhlime p r e s e n t a t i o n s o f 1 h i s v i r t u e — a s principally t h e law o f woman, a n d a s t h e l a w o f a substantiality a t once subjective a n d o n the plane o f feeling, the law o f the inward life, a life which has n o t

yet a t t a i n e d its f u l l actualization; as t h e l a w o f t h e ancient gods, “ t h e gods o f t h e underworld”;

546

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

One important point that we have not yet broached concerning the

nature of the Divine Law is the fact that i t is primarily concerned with death. The realm o f human law, which ultimately resides i n the state, is concerned with welfare and happiness and other such finite trivia; the Divine Law, a n d therefore the family as such, is n o t concerned with well-being b u t rather with the dead (451). Now, o n the one hand

this is the perfectly reasonable suggestion (though by no means universal, as Hegel supposes) that one o f the functions o f the family is t o

remember its ancestry and respect the dead; but Hegel suggests something much more than this, even that this is the function of the family.!*® I would suggest that this is somewhat preposterous, but, again, we know what he is leading u p to, a discussion of Antigone as the symbol of the opposition o f the t w o laws with the precipitating incident the death o f h e r brother. B u t to think o f this as more than a

limited illustration would be t o exaggerate Hegel's illusions about family and, more seriously, misunderstand the all-important notion of Sittlichkeit itself, which 1s only tangentially a form o f death and essentially a form o f life.

ANTIGONE, “ALIENATION,

AND “CIVIL SOCIETY”

(6, A , b . & c.) And yet the wise will know my choice was right. . . o f impiety,

I s t a n d convicted

T h e e v i d e n c e o f m y p i o u s d u t y d o n e . —Sophocles, Antigone

The city s t a t e fails as a realization o f the universal because its paroc h i a l n a t u r e contradicts t r u e universality. —Charles Taylor, Hegel

The ideal of Sittlichkeit for Hegel was the Greek polis, with its “touch o f the divine.” B u t the unreflective Suttlichkeit o f tribal Greek society, the society i n which Antigone is set, is n o t yet the polis a n d , indeed, one question which should n a g at us throughout o u r reading is the

apparent absence of Hegels ideal—the city-state of the short-lived Golden Age of early 5th-century Athens.!3! I n this ideal and exceedingly rare circumstance, the unity of the whole and individuality were as "an everlasting law, and no man knows a t what time i t was first p u t forth.” This law is there displayed as a law opposed to public law, t o the law o f the land. This is the supreme opposition i n ethics and therefore in tragedy; and it is individualized i n the same play i n the opposing n a t u r e s o f m a n a n d woman. ( 1 6 6 Zusatze)

130. Findlay certainly reads h i m this way; “the Family exists t o promote the cult o f t h e d e a d ” (“Analysis,” p . 5 5 2 ) .

131. G. Glenn Gray, Hegel and Greek Thought (New York: Harper and Row, 1941), esp. pp- 58-61, 63.

Hegel's Ethics

547

(at least arguably) i n perfect harmony; the individual could n o t exist

without the polis, and the polis could n o t exist without its individuals. This is n o t the brutal, primitive world of Antigone, in which Hegel freely admits that “might makes right” and the reflective wisdom and harmony o f the polis is n o t a t all in evidence. But then, Antigone is just a vehicle for Hegel's discussion o f the break-up of tribal society and its development into a larger, disharmonious whole, the larger “zoo” of “civil society,” (biirgerliche Gesellschaft) “a multitude o f separate atoms” (476).1°2 Hegel’s actual discussion of Antigone i n “Ethical Action” (Ch.6,A,b.) contradicts his affectionate projections of the preceding discussion, as does the actual t e x t of the play. Hegel rendered the relation between brother and sister as one o f love and family piety (457); b u t in the

play, i t is clear that her primary concern is her duty, her obligation maintain the “divine” bonds o f family; CREON:

to

. . . Did you know an edict had forbidden this? Of course I knew . . .

ANTIGONE:

So you chose flagrantly t o disobey my law? Naturally! Since Zeus never promulgated such a law. Nor ANTIGONE: will you find that Justice publishes such laws t o man below. I never thought your edicts had such force they nullified the laws of heaven,

CREON:

which, unwritten, n o t proclaimed, can boast a currency that everlastingly 1s valid; a n o r i g i n b e y o n d the b i r t h o f m a n . A n d I , w h o m n o m a n ’ s frown c a n f r i g h t e n , a m f a r from r i s k i n g H e a v e n ’ s frown

by flouting these.’®®

I t is not a private gesture o f love b u t a public a c t o f righteous rebellion: . . . R e m i n d ourselves t h a t we are women, a n d as such n o t

ISMENE:

made

fight with men. For might unfortunately is right . . . . . . g o . . . a n d please your fantasy... . . . A t least tell n o one what you do. . .

to

ANTIGONE:

ISMENE

ANTIGONE:

. . . O h tell i t , tell it, shout i t out!!$*

Antigone must carry o u t the death ritual,

not to

soothe her sisterly

conscience b u t i n o r d e r to maintain kinship structures against the en-

croaching authority o f the state, despite the fact that her brother is a traitor w h o has tried t o overthrow the government. Hegel tells us: S i n c e t h e community with the happiness

of

only g e t s a n e x i s t e n c e through its i n t e r f e r e n c e t h e Family, a n d by dissolving self-consciousness

132. Esp. Philosophy of Right, 182-256. And in the Jena Realphilosophie lectures as well. I am again indebted t o James Schmidt for his discussions o f these topics. 133. Antigone, translated Paul Roche (New York: N e w American Library, 1958), 11.910,

9 2 5 - 2 6p. , 179. 134. Ibid. 169.

548

Hüching the Highway ofDespair i n t o the universal, i t creates for itself i n what it suppresses a n d what 1s a t t h e s a m e t i m e essential t o i t a n i n t e r n a l enemy—womankind

in

general. (475)

What is a t stake for Antigone is the ultimacy o f family bonds; what is stake for Creon is obedience t o his authority and a more imper-

at

sonal sense o f justice. This 1s n o t a conflict o f t w o laws, “ h u m a n and Divine”; i t is a conflict o f two priorities, t w o notions o f justice, two sets

of obligations, and t w o kinds of societies. Antigone signifies the end of family-tribal society; Antigone represents the losing battle against the breakdown o f this m o s t elementary and “natural” Sutlichkeit and the hegemony of “civil society”. ( I t m u s t be remembered that Creon perishes t o o ; there is no “synthesis” and reconciliation for the individuals caught i n one of Hegel’s contradictions, only death. Spirit moves on, b u t they d o not.!35)

I n his discussion o f the tragedy, Hegel insists that there is a t first no conflict i n Antigone, no “comic spectacle of a collision between duty and duty” o r “passion and duty” (465) but rather her immediate “simple, pure direction of activity” And yet, Hegel tells us, (466) the conflict makes her self-conscious, no longer merely implicit and inarticulate as i n unreflective Sittlichkeit. Action makes inherent conflicts real.!% I t is here that Hegel makes his gratuitous ontological remarks that it 1s sex alone that determines one’ loyalties and obligations, but only a few paragraphs later h e makes i t clear that n o one can escape

allegiance t o both sets o f laws. Guilt is inevitable, whatever one’s sex and whatever one chooses. (The notion of “original sin” is evident here, n o t the Biblical variety b u t a la Jean-Paul Sartre; whatever you

choose, the n a t u r e of the choice itself guarantees guilt and anxiety. ' ® 7 ) Guilt, Hegel says, haunts not just Antigone; i t is common to her sex, 135. This is the locus o f the classic confrontation between Kierkegaard and Hegel o n “ t h e existing individual” ( i n Journals o f 1843 (trans. S. A . D r u , New York: Harper,

1948)) and Concluding Unscientific Postscript, (trans. W. Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1944 p. 173.) Kierkegaard is c o r r e c t that the resolutions o f Hegel’s dialectic d o nothing for the individual caught between two worlds, but Hegel never claims that it does. T h e individual, for Hegel, does n o t particularly count, a n d m a n y i n d i v i d uals, h e w o u l d admit, a r e lost i n j u s t this way. But this raises the question w h e t h e r t h e

concept o f tragedy might be wholly missing from Kierkegaard’s own conception. See Pierre Mesnard, “Is the Category o f the Tragic Absent from the Life and Thought o f Kierkegaard”, i n Howard A. Johnson and Niels Thulstrup, A Kierkegaard Critique (Chicago: Regnery 1962), pp. 102-15. O n the Greek view o f the ethics o f death, see MacI n t y r e , After Virtue, c h . 1 0 “ T h e Virtues i n H e r o i c Societies.”

136. Here too one thinks o f Kierkegaard, i n particular his version o f the Abraham

and Isaac story in Fear and Trembling (1843). The potential conflict between God’s command and ethical law does n o t become an actual conflict until Abraham actually is ordered to do something. T h e mere contradiction o f t w o laws o r two ways o f life need cause n o despair—so long as there is n o need t h a t actually brings about their confrontation.

Hegel i s n o t

wholly c o n s i s t e n t h e r e , however.

137. Sartre, Being and Nothingness, esp. Part 1, ch. 2, “Bad Faith.”

Hegel’s Ethics

549

and, ultimately, t o Creon (who is also destroyed by it) and the whole of the tribe, which is destroyed thereby also, t o be replaced by something quite different. Moreover, i t is n o t Antigone who explodes the harmony of primitive Sittlichkeit; her brother, remember, took u p arms against the state, thus m a k i n g i t quite clear that all was n o t harmont-

ous before she faced her own dilemma. Strangely enough, Hegel doesn’t m e n t i o n

this.!38

Instead, h e gives us his famous argument i n

favor of war—that “war 1s the Spirit and the form in which the essential m o m e n t o f the ethical substance, the absolute freedom o f the ethical self from every existential form, is present in its actual a n d authentic existence.” (475)

I n other words, i n war the individual n o longer counts and is dispensable, t o b e sacrificed to the state (“the ethical self”) as necessary.!*®

Death, here i n the discussion of Antigone and elsewhere t o o , plays a shockingly positive role i n Hegel's philosophy, as the ultimate argum e n t against the vanity of individualism. But yet, whatever unifying virtues w a r m a y have, civil war does n o t have those virtues, a n d i t is civil war, the conflict o f t w o kinds o f society within one, that is a t stake here. T h e inevitable en d is “the ruin o f ethical Substance” (476). What is left is “soul-less,” “ a multitude o f separate atoms” (475,476).

The official term for this shattering of society, of course, is “alienation” (entfremdung). We have m e t this term and the general idea of internal, destructive opposition all the way through the Phenomenology; i n fact, the theme o f the entire book, i n one sense, is to overcome

such “alienations”—the false separation of “subject and object,” the f r a u d u l e n t distinction between “ i n n e r and outer,” a n d now, the tragic separation o f individuals who, ideally, find their true identity o n l y within a coherent, harmonious society. B u t i t m u s t n o t b e thought

that this new form of society is sheer anarchism, i n any sense; i t 1s i n every way still a society, with organization and government, i n which individuals find their place and their livelihood; what i t lacks is Suttlichkeit, that is, allegiance to some “higher” existence, “ t h e univer-

sal living Spirit” (479). This is bourgeois society, the political counterpart o f the social “zoo” o f chapter 5, a society i n which the ultimate element is the individual person, reduced to a mere personality o f a n

isolated self-consciousness within an organized conglomerate of such isolated self-consciousnesses, united only by an abstraction. The section entitled “Legal Status” (Ch. 6,A,c.) is generally interpreted as the world of the Roman empire, in which citizenship is open 138. H e talks a r o u n d i t i n 1473. 139. See also P G , 455, a n d Philosophy of Right, 3 2 4 - 2 6 , 3 3 4 - 3 9 .

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

550 to

any individual who just happens t o live within the far-flung bor-

ders o f the empire.!*° Here there is n o question o f a shared Sittlichkeit,

o r even a shared language, shared customs, shared experiences. The unity 1s sheer abstraction, devoid of spiritual significance. I n compensation for this massive alienation and loss of identity, the ethical concept o f a “person” comes to take priority, with the equally abstract

notion o f “rights”—which have nothing t o do with an individual’ talents o r abilities o r place i r society. T h i s characterization, however,

reaches far beyond life i n the Roman empire and, indeed, includes most Western societies ever since. What is key t o personhood is property (cf. Hegels discussion o f Kant i n chapter 5, and more impor-

tantly, his discussion o f property i n the Philosophy of Right!) and property rights as primary rights (480). This 1s, o f course, n o t far from a description o f o u r o w n society, a n d i t fits—far better than

Rome—the realm o f John Locke’s second Treatise on Government of 1689. Hegel’s attitude toward such a society is hardly flattering, i n fact, h e tells us Consciousness o f right . . . i n the very fact of being recognized as h a v i n g v a l i d i t y , e x p e r i e n c e s t h e loss o f i t s r e a l i t y a n d i t s c o m p l e t e i n e s s e n t i a l i t y ; a n d t o d e s c r i b e a n i n d i v i d u a l as a “ p e r s o n ” i s a n

expression o f contempt. (480)

To compensate for this irreplaceable loss, Hegel suggests, we appeal to an arbitrary individual to r u n the state, which is now n o more

than a monstrous machine, whose virtues are ethciency and fairness b u t whose vices (inefficiency a n d unfairness) are often more i n evi-

dence (481). Hegel's objection here is n o t t o excessive governments and tyranny so much as t o the primary loss of collective sensibility which requires such a state—even an enlightened and beneficent state.

I t is clear that Hegel is using as his model “the utanic self-consciousness” o f a Tiberius o r a Nero, who envisions himself as “the living God” but i n fact Is n o one i n particular (481). B u t the model would fit any modern government, o u r o w n included, and the idea that this leader is, i n himself, “ a n unreal impotent self” would seem t o point as much

toward our modern electoral processes as t o the chaos of poisonings and successions i n 2nd-century Rome. The leader is as empty and insignificant as anyone else, and what is more, his power, coupled with his own lack of communal spirit, leads him t o “lay w a s t e everything” a n d “abandon his o w n self-consciousness” (482). O n e is re-

minded here of Rousseau’s characterization of the sovereign a t the 140. Philosophy of Right, 80; see Findlay, Hegel, pp. 117-18. 141. Philosophy of Right, 189,209-10, 217-18.

Hegel’s Ethics

551

beginning of the Social Contract, where he distinguishes between the father who rules with love and the leader who enjoys “the pleasure o f commanding.” B u t insofar as the leader represents nothing higher

than the individual citizen, no “richer o r more powerful existence” (479) he provides his society with no meaning either, and the intended compensation of individual rights only results in ever more tragic “alienation,” as everyone comes t o see him-herself against the whole o f the w o r l d , society itself as a n alien and intrusive presence,

and one’s own empty self as everything (483). Bourgeois society (bürgerliche Gesellschaft) i n the Philosophy of Right is defined as the state “as understanding envisions it,” which is blind to the most essential aspects o f what i t is to be a member o f a com-

munity and sees only the superficial ingredients—the exchange of goods protected by civil law and a system for ensuring something by way o f the welfare o f the common people.!42 I t is distinctively a n

achievement of the “modern world” i n which there is “free reign of individual caprice and desire, that spectacle of extravagance and want” that Rousseau and Hegel viewed with disgust. I n Philosophy of Right, Hegel describes i t as “that self-subsistent inherently infinite personality of the individual,” “dawned in an inward form i n the Christian religion a n d i n a n external form in the Roman world” (1185). T h e state is merely a “means” o f individuals mn pursuit o f their o w n self-

interest and civil society, therefore, consists solely i n the satisfaction of personal needs and the administration of justice (1187-188). What is missing is meaning, and so it is that civil society inevitably passes over into the state (Philosophy of Right, 1256).

The concept o f “civil soctety” occupied Hegel from his earliest writings; i t appears i n a discussion of contracts in “The Positivity of the Christian Religion,” but in the more traditional sense as a synonym for “the state”.!*® The argument i n the “Positivity” essay is the straightforward Enlightenment argument that contracts c a n n o t apply t o matters of faith, and thus he distinguishes the realm of civil society a n d the r e a l m o f faith, a crucial distinction i n the section o n Culture and the Enlightenment t o follow in the Phenomenology (484-595). Later on, i n the “Natural Law” essay and in the Phenomenology, h e seeks a synthesis o f the two, a resurrection o f Sittlichkeit i n the new world o f

Spirit reborn, i n the wake of Napoleon (12). Indeed, in the Philosophy 142. Ibid. 183. I am indebted throughout this section t o James Schmidt's detailed analysis o f the concept o f “civil society” i n Hegel's thought; “ A Paideia for the ‘Burger als Bourgeois’; t h e Genesis and Function o f Biirgerliche Gesellschaft in Hegel's Philosophy o f Right,” History o f Political Thought, vol. 2 , n o . 3 (1982). 143. Cf. L o c k e , Two Treatises on C i v i l Government, w h o also equates t h e two. I n t h e

P G they are already distinguished a n d i n Philosophy of Right they are clearly at odds

(185).

552

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ofRight, Hegel famously insists that “The march of God in the world . . . is what the State is.” '** Hegel seems t o say explicitly that the realization of the State 1s also the fulfillment of God. I n the Greek polis, of course, there was n o disharmony o r separation o f religion and poli-

tics, and that 1s Hegel’s ideal throughout.!* B u t i t is essential that such a religion n o t be “positive,” for this would lead t o ecclesiastical tyranny, a n d the state, accordingly, is n o t to be confused w i t h “civil society.” I n d e e d , again, the closest comparison is Rousseau, w h o defended the notion o f a n elemental civil religion in his Social Contract,

which would be required of all citizens (and sanctioned by the death penalty).!4® Such extreme measures make sense only when one views how tragically far we have come, according t o Hegel, from the har-

monious ideal of the polis. I n fact, the largest single segment of the entire Phenomenology is now dedicated precisely t o showing how we have so “alienated” ourselves, elevating the finite ultimately empty individual personality and its rights t o everything, and denying alm o s t totally the entire realm of “Spirit” as such. Here, we can see the whole o f Hegels writings come together, his mixed attitudes toward religion and his doubts about the Enlightenment, his rejection of mere individualism and “civil society” and his diagnosis of the culmination o f all of these “enlightened” conceptions—the Reign of Terror which followed the French Revolution, i n 1792.

“ C U L T U R E , ” T H E ENLIGHTENMENT, AND THE FRENCH REVOLUTION (6, B, I. & II.)

. . . Spirit constructs for itself n o t merely a world, but a world that is double, divided a n d self-opposed. . . . i t falls apart into a realm i n which self-consciousness as w e l l as i t s object i s actual, a n d i n t o another, t h e r e a l m o f pure consciousness which, lying beyond the first, is n o t a present actuality but exists only for

Faith. (486) T h o u g h h e i s n e v e r m e n t i o n e d , t h e r e c a n b e n o doubt t h a t t h e tow-

ering figure who dominates Hegel's conception of the Enlightenment is Kant. The “world of self-alienated spirit” is first of all Kant’s division o f human life into t w o realms—the world of knowledge and understanding, on the one side, the world of morality and religion and “practical reason” o n the other. T h i s was n o t , however, a universal 144. I b i d . 258 Zusatze; see also Taylor, Hegel and Modern Society, p. 73. 145. See H.S. Harris, Hegel's Development, pp. 273-74. 146. “ . . . the existence o f a mighty intelligent beneficent divinity, possessed with foresight and providence, the life t o come, the happiness o f the just, the punishment o f t h e wicked, the sanctity o f t h e social contract, a n d t h e laws” (Social Contract p . 237).

Hegel’s Ethics

553

division throughout the Enlightenment, and for many of the French philosophes— Voltaire, for example—there was no division, only denial of the realm of “faith” and “pure consciousness” altogether. I n this very l o n g chapter, therefore, we should take some care t o distinguish

the different elements of the Enlightenment, the Aufklärung of Lessing and Mendelssohn, the critical philosophy o f Kant, the more matertalistic a n d atheistic criticism o f the French, the sentimental specu-

lations of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and the anti-Enlightenment writings of such figures as Herder and Jacobi. Indeed, harking back t o Hegel's earlier essay “Faith and Knowledge,” we can be sure that the primary target o f the whole o f this section is that triad o f mere finttude—Kant,

Fichte, and Jacobi. I n fact, i t would n o t be a mistake t o read the whole o f this section, from the first references t o K a n t (484—-87)—one pas-

sage quoted above—to the secularization of the t w o worlds (581) as Hegel’s revision o f his “Faith and Knowledge” essay of 1802. Hegel often makes his criticism sound like a criticism of the Enlightenment as such, thus raising the question how he could so vigorously attack a m o v e m e n t o f which h e was so much a part. B u t it is

Enlightenment as such that Hegel attacks, only the division of the finite world o f understanding and individual happiness as engineered by “civil society,” and the infinite world of cosmic comprehension, expressed usually in the overly Christian word “Faith.” Regarding that world of “Faith,” Hegel objects t o the attempts of this strictly finite world o f the understanding t o intrude into the realm i t c a n n o t possibly understand— not

I t upsets the housekeeping o f Spirit in the household of Faith by bringing into that household the tools and utensils o f this world, a world which that Spirit c a n n o t deny is its own, because its consciousness likewise belongs to i t . (486)

Hegel’s objection here is clearly aimed a t Kant’s Religion Within the Bounds o f Reason Alone—and at Hegel's o w n early attempts to reduce

religion t o the domain of everyday morality—in which religion t o o is subjected t o the critical scrutiny of Enlightenment and, inevitably, emasculated i n the process. B u t i t ts clear that Hegel has no desire either to reinstate that “beyond” o f the religious world o r the world

of the “thing-in-itself” with which Kant gives i t ontological support. What he objects t o is the complete refusal of the Enlightenment— and of Kant until his third Critique—to consider the place of humanity i n the universe as a whole. Indeed, those who d i d think so cosmologically—Kant i n his third Critique, Jacobi in his use o f Kant’s crit-

icism—tended t o deny u s knowledge of this. This is what Hegel reject-

554

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

But i n his enthusiasm, and because he is covering ground which he obviously wanted t o retrace from the “Faith and Knowledge” essay, h e takes as l o n g to say this as i t took h i m to present the whole o f his epistemology and “Self-Consciousness” together. We will n o t attempt t o treat i t i n so m u c h detail here.

The world of self-alienated spirit (Die Welt des sich entfremdeten Geistes) 1s ostensibly concerned with the concept o f culture (Bildung) but i t

is important t o clarify the far from obvious relationship between this t e r m and the concept with which we have tried t o analyze the whole progression of the Phenomenology (chapter 4,b). “Culture” here is much more like o u r o w n word, with connotations o f effete elitism a n d arti-

ficial sophistication. I t is just that feature of society that Rousseau so devastatingly attacked as “corruption” and which the young German literati of 1800 inevitably associated with the French. “Culture,” i n this context, is n o t so much a matter of aesthetic appreciation as i t is o f power. Indeed, being “cultivated” 1s far more important than personality or talents; i t is this alone that opens the doors t o court privileges a n d the best d r a w i n g rooms i n Paris a n d Berlin (489). “Good taste” is

of extreme importance; whether consistent or reasonable is of no importance (491). Such elitism inevitably gravitates towards the center

of power—the king—and there is again little doubt what specific reference H e g e l has i n mind—the court o f Louis XIV, “ t h e S u n King,”

and his strategic use o f bourgeois talent and ambition t o counteract the established power o f the nobility (494). A t the same time, this concentration o f n o t o n l y p o w e r b u t taste i n the hands o f state au-

thority leads t o doubt about the value of these public rewards of power and wealth (495-502). These doubts are resolved in “ t h e noble consciousness’ by means o f dedication t o the state, which o f course earns one more rewards without the taint o f selfish motives (503). What Hegel is d o i n g h e r e is half history, h a l f Rousseauan social criticism;

he is tracing the consolidation o f power under the Bourbons (Louis X I V in particular) and the formation of the various “estates” in France. H e is tracing the origins o f (French) nationalism and exposing the

hypocrisy o f “state power” which, “in spite o f its chatter about the general good, reserves t o itself what suits its own best interest, and is inclined t o make this chatter about the general good a substitute for action” (506). This is n o t a bad characterization o f L o u i s X V (“Apres

mot, le deluge”), and the complementary characterization o f the citizen as “always on the point o f revolt” is n o t an inaccurate c o m m e n t about France at mid-century. ( I n 1755 Lord Chesterfield wrote his son, “All the symptoms I have e v e r m e t w i t h i n history, p r e v i o u s t o great changes

Hegel's Ethics

555

and revolutions in government, now exist, and daily increase, i n France.”)

As history, of course, Hegel is far too obscure t o be worth reading, but his point, as always, is conceptual. What he 1s trying t o depict here are the tribulations o f “civil society” and its embarrassing attempts to create m e a n i n g for itself i n the strictly “finite” concerns o f social s t a t u s . Much o f the section is devoted t o the place of language in this personal debasement (508, 511-13) in which speech is no longer expressive, which 1s its primary function (a la Herder and Rousseau), but is strictly functional and impersonal, as in the discourse o f the c o u r t and the flattery due one’s superiors. This flattery in turn c r e a t e s the self-delusion o f superiority, and i n the absence of any more spiritual values the pursuit of wealth becomes primary for both king and court (512-17). This further increases the power o f the monarchy insofar as it 1s the monarchy that consolidates wealth and status, but it is strictly impersonal status, and ultimately without significance. This leads t o

a new bout o f rebelliousness (517) and arrogance (519) a n d one can

here picture Voltaire exercising his formidable wit i n the c o u r t of Louis X V and i n the drawing room of the king’s mistress, the equally formidable Madame de Pompadour. Indeed, the literature of the French philosophes is here much in evidence, particularly Diderot’ sarcastic parody, Rameau’s Nephew, which Hegel generously absorbs into his own prose. The irony of wit exposes the false values of the times, much as Socrates and the Sophists used their own form o f ironic comedy t o explode the hollow maxims and laws of Greece i n its period of decay. (Cf. 746, in the chapter on “Religion.” I t is a t this point that Rousseau clearly enters the picture as “the plain mind” which adopts the “wisdom of Nature” (523). But Hegel clearly takes Voltaire’s position (in fact Rousseau’s position too) against simple-minded primitivism: 4 7 . .

if

the demand

[for

of individuality, i t

the dissolution

directed to the universal

s h o u l d g i v e u p again t h e spiritually

this

world o f p e r v e r s i o n ]

is

cannot m e a n t h a t R e a s o n

d e v e l o p e d consciousness i t h a s

a c q u i r e d , s h o u l d s u b m e r g e t h e w i d e s p r e a d wealth o f i t s moments

a g a i n i n t h e simplicity o f t h e natural h e a r t , a n d r e l a p s e i n t o t h e wilderness o f t h e n e a r l y animal c o n s c i o u s n e s s , which is a l s o c a l l e d Nat u r e o r innocence.

(524)

147. See especially Arthur Lovejoy, “The Supposed Primitivism o f Rousseau’s Discourse o n Inequality,” in Essays in the History of Ideas (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1948), pp. 14-37. Cf. Voltaire’s unfair but eminently quotable reply t o Rousseau: “ I have received sir, your new book against the h u m a n race . . . the reading o f your book makes us want to creep o n all fours. However, as i t is more than sixty years since I lost that habit. . . ”

556

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

O r i n Rousseau’s o w n w o r d s , “ w e c a n n o t g o b a c k ” — t h a t i s , b a c k t o

primitive innocence o r unreflective Sıttlichkeit, n o r can we return to

that strictly individual “law o f the heart,” which we rejected so many pages ago (367-80). But then, where does one go? What happens t o the Enlightenment when i t faces such cultural degradation and “corruption”? I t turns, at least i n Germany, to religion, to “Faith and Pure

Insight” (527-37). Chronologically, i t would be absurd

to

interpret

these passages as Christianity as such, despite the cross reference to

“Unhappy Consciousness” (528) and t o the Trinity (532-33). This is a portrait o f that strictly defenstve religion that found its uncomfortable place i n the Enlightenment, in Jacobi and Lessing i n particular and i n the view that all religions are essentially the same, or they are steps o n the way to the same ultimate truth. True religion is a single

“pure insight” underlying all religions, but this “pure insight” t u r n s o u t n o t t o be religion a t all, since religious belief c a n n o t be all things at once ( 5 3 8 - 4 0 ) . Against the Enlightenment view, i t m u s t b e u r g e d

that it is the particular content that counts i n religion (537) and n o t a universal insight. For this reason, Hegel will later (chapter 7) reject religion too. B u t now, h e returns again to the spirit o f the times, t o the Enlightenment, both to repeat his now tiresome criticism o f its

shallow finitude and lack of spirit but also t o praise “the truth of enlightenment”—that “heaven is transplanted t o earth”—which is no small point o f agreement. Hegel's realm o f Spirit may be infinite but i t is also earth-bound. The Enlightenment was many things—the spirit of criticism, a powerful reform movement, the ambitiousness o f the m i d d l e class, the e n d o f feudalism, a n e w sense o f religious tolerance, a literary

and artistic epoch, a period o f political upheaval.!*® B u t Hegel is concerned here primarily with only a single dimension of this great movement—its attitude toward religion. I n fact, it is simply absurd t o say “its attitude,” for the Enlightenment had almost as many attitudes as i t h a d spokesmen. B a r o n d’'Holbach was a n uncompromising

atheist; Voltaire accepted a minimal God but despised the church (“I'm tired of hearing how it took only twelve men t o establish Christianity; I would like t o show that one can destroy it”). Rousseau incorporated a minimal set of religious beliefs (including belief i n the Supreme Being) into his ideal State. Kant defended Christianity as a pair o f “postulates of practical reason” while Lessing and Mendelssohn de148. See Peter Gay, The Enlightenment: An Interpretation (New York: Vintage, 1966), and also ch. 1 o f my History and Human Nature (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979).

Hegel’s Ethics

557

fended a far more tolerant conception o f “true religion” which included other faiths too, Judaism especially. To write simply o f “the Enlightenment”, therefore, especially given Hegel's detailed knowledge o f its various approaches t o religion, is somewhat irresponsible, to say the least. A n d indeed, his account shows the strain o f these

many variations. The various modes o f the negative attitude of consciousness, the attitude o f scepticism and that o f theoretical and practical idealism, are inferior shapes compared with that of pure insight and its diffusion, o f t h e Enlightenment. (541) I n terms o f what i t attacks, however, the Enlightenment does dis-

play remarkable unity; i t opposes the church and the priests, who manipulate the general masses with superstitions (542). Authority and superstition are as m u c h the target o f Kant and Lessing as o f Voltaire,

Rousseau, and Holbach. The notion o f “pure insight” or what Descartes called “the natural light o f reason” is the Enlightenment antidote t o superstition. I f only people would be rational instead o f gullible, i n other words, the power o f the priests would be broken. “By this simple means “pure insight” will clear u p the confusion o f this world” (54).

Hegel has no objection t o the Enlightenment attack on “superstit i o n ” ; b u t t h e question is what is to c o u n t as superstition. T h e reliance

on “pure insight” has that singular flaw that we have seen Hegel expose again and again in the Phenomenology, in “Sense-Certainty” and “Self-Certainty,” i n the cosmic insight o f the Stoics and the self-righteous virtue o f Romanticism—namely, it has no determinate content. The Enlightenment critic exposes the objects o f religious faith as mere fabrications, b u t is i t n o t the case that the self-certain reason o f the E n -

lightenment is just as much a fabrication and a “superstition” too? Thus Enlightenment criticism tends t o dismiss the religious consciousness for having irrational beliefs instead o f recognizing religion for what i t is, some sense o f one’s own spiritual identity and cosmic significance (548-53). Enlightenment criticism often takes Christianity, for example, to be nothing more than the belief i n a certain i m plausible historical event (on the basis o f evidence poorer than most newspaper accounts (554), Hegel quips). B u t religious faith is n o t i n

need o f “evidence” or “proof”; “it is Spirit itself which bears witness to itself, both i n the inwardness o f the individual consciousness a n d through the universal presence i n everyone o f faith i n i t ” (554). ( N o t even Kierkegaard sounds so m u c h like Kierkegaard, and the anti-

Hegelian Dane would n o doubt be surprised

to

realize how much his

558

Hatching the Highway ofDespair

antagonist anticipated his views.!*?) Indeed, i t is only when pressured by the Enlightenment critics for “reasons” that the religious consciousness began t o stumble o n admittedly inadequate arguments. I n

religious Suttlichkert (“folk-religion”) no arguments had ever been necessary.

Here Hegel again repeats his criticism of Enlightenment empiricism for its reduction o f all experience t o sense-experience, o f the Absolute to its sensuous properties (557-58), o f all ethics to its narrow

ethical standard o f “utility” (559-62). From the point of view o f faith, he concludes, this attitude is an “abomination” and “utterly detestable” (562). The so-called “wisdom” o f Enlightenment consists o f nothing but platitudes (ibid.) and utility omits any sense o f value beyond mere pleasure; this is what Hegel criticizes as the finitude o f

Enlightenment i n “Faith and Knowledge,” and it is n o t t o be thought that the alternative need be anything so elaborate as the religious consciousness o f Christianity. Indeed, he now plays oft “Faith” against Enlightenment as complements, the former providing the absolute vision (“the Concept”) that the latter lacks, and Enlightenment correcting the fatal flaw o f religious consciousness—namely, taking the Absolute t o be something outside o f itself (563-66). Both faith and Enlightenment make the mistake o f separating the finite and the infinite, the merely sensuous, useful, a n d pleasurable from the all-

encompassing concept o f the cosmos itself (567), and Hegel's aim is t o break down this division between the banal and the cosmic which is the source o f the disagreement. H e comments that Enlightenment m u s t be made t o appreciate the fact that religious sacrifices, whether a day o f fasting or giving o n e life, are n o t “purposeless” but symbol-

ically meaningful (570-71). There are desires that go far beyond mere

needs and pleasures, which mere utilitarianism refuses t o see.!>° But it is Enlightenment i n t u r n that makes possible a renewal o f faith, by bringing i t down t o earth and illuminating “that heavenly world with ideas belonging to the world o f sense” (572). Enlightenment alone,

Hegel concludes, is stuck w i t h “ a n unsatisfied yearning” which i t cann o t even recognize, condemning “ i t s individual self t o a n e m p t y a n d

unfulfilled beyond” (573). But, however harsh Hegel’s criticisms— 1 4 9 . Concluding Unscientific Postscript, e s p . p . 180ff.

150. The vulgar utilitarian here would be Hume, who did indeed criticize religion in general as nothing more t h a n childish superstition a n d fears a n d held u p a straightforward criterion o f “utility” as the only measure for h u m a n actions. Contrasted with

him would be J.S. Mill, who tried desperately t o introduce the notion o f “quality” of p l e a s u r e s t o e n c o m p a s sjust s u c h transparently anti-utilitarian g e s t u r e s as ascetic self-

sacrifice. (Nevertheless Nietzsche, very m u c h i n t h e G e r m a n Spirit, later accuses Mill o f “vulgarity”

as well.)

Hegel's Ethics

559

Enlightenment will rid itself o f this blemish; a closer examination of the positive result which is its truth will show that in that result the blemish is i n principle already removed. (Ibid.) Thus we reach “the truth o f Enlightenment” (574-81), a truth which

Enlightenment has already pointed o u t i n criticism o f the religious consciousness, namely, that its putative object o f reverence is i n fact its own creation. A n d this is the truth—that the Absolute is indeed one’s own self-consciousness, which Hegel explicitly attributes t o Descartes, “that being a n d thought are, in themselves, the same” (578).!5! Hegel even eases his attack o n the banality o f “ t h e Useful,” so l o n g as

this notion is expanded t o include the whole realm o f practical reason, instead o f the petty interests discussed b y the utilitarians. What “Faith” lacked was any sense o f its o w n reality; the principle o f utility, broadly conceived, at least has the virtue o f b e i n g “certain o f its indi-

vidual self.” Here again we find the shift that marked the transition from mere “Understanding” to “Self-Consciousness” i n the Fichtean

notion o f the pragmatic. Thus Kant’s two worlds were united into Fichte’s singular world o f moral action, and now Hegel tells us, with

regard t o faith The t w o worlds are reconciled and heaven is transplanted below. (581)

“ABSOLUTE FREEDOM AND TERROR”

I f we have

to

to

earth

(6, B , I I I . )

choose between an excess o f patriotic zeal and the

empty shell o f bad citizenship, o r the morass o f moderatism, we will n o t hesitate.

—Robespierre

Let us n o t be afraid

to

repeat it, we are farther from freedom than

ever; for n o t only are we slaves, b u t we are slaves legally, as a conse-

quence o f the perfidy o f our legislators, who have become the accomplices o f a rehabilitated despotism . . . —Marat

There is n o question what the section o n “Terror” refers to, b u t once again, Hegel's history is far more obscure than informative. As a student, Hegel was, like most o f his friends, enthusiastic about the French

Revolution and, like m o s t o f his friends, he was appalled when the turmoil in France, apparently stabilized i n the National Assembly, took a n extremely violent t u r n i n 1792, beginning w i t h the execution o f

the king and the establishment the following year o f the first modern 151. Cf. Lectures on the History of Philosophy, vol. 3, p. 228, where Hegel makes the same (dubious) c l a i m for Descartes.

560

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

dictatorship. The dictator was Robespierre, and i t would not be an overstatement t o say that Hegel despised him.!5? But a t the

sanie

time,

from the security o f retrospect, Hegel clearly recognized that Robespierre was as much a victim o f circumstances as anyone else. Far from wielding the awesome power o f the revolution, he too was being used, would be swept away and destroyed by it. The section of the Phenomenology is not about Robespierre, of course, but he dominates i t from the opening references t o his hero Rousseau and the “general will” (584) t o the cult o f the “Supreme Being”, founded i n 1794 by Robespierre i n accordance with Rousseau’s own dictates i n the Social Contract. Robespierre is clearly the individual at the head o f government who can be easily replaced (591), and I take i t that the reference t o “Being suspected” i n the same paragraph is the infamous “Law o f Suspects” o f 1793.152 Robespierre, a bourgeois lawyer, inevitably t u r n s against “the people” (the working class, the peasants, the “sans culottes”) when the street violence gets o u t o f hand (593). Finally, the revolution changes “round i n its inner concept i n t o

absolute positivity” (594), i n other words, dictatorship (first Robespierre, then Napoleon). B u t just as we are ready for some philosoph-

ical insight into this classic t u r n from revolution t o mob rule t o authoritarianism, the subject matter changes again, abruptly. Having left Robespierre o n the guillotine, we now find ourselves once again talk-

ing about “Morality.” Why? T o make sense o f this most curious transition, I suggest that what

Hegel has done is n o t pursue his subject through its actual vicissitudes (the fall o f Robespierre, the shaky stability o f the Directoire, the

rise o f Napoleon) but rather, with a simple shift i n perspective, he leaves France a t the height o f the Terror and moves back t o Germany, where Kant was establishing his own revolution, i n particular, with 152. H e makes his o p i n i o n s k n o w n , for example, i n a private Christmas 1794 letter.

H e discusses Robespierre more ambiguously and opaquely i n the Jena “Philosophy o f Spirit” lectures. 1 5 3 . September 1 7 , 1 7 9 3 , “ T h e L a w o f S u s p e c t s ” : “1. Immediately a f t e r t h e publication o f t h e p r e s e n t d e c r e e a l l t h e s u s p e c t - p e r s o n s w h o a r e i n the territory o f the Republic and who are still a t liberty shall be placed under arrest. “ 2 . T h e s e a r e a c c o u n t e d suspect-persons: l s t , those w h o b y t h e i r conduct, t h e i r connections, t h e i r remarks o r their writings s h o w t h e m s e l v e s t h e partisans o f tyranny o r f e d e r a l i s m and t h e

enemies o f l i b e r t y ; 2 d , those w h o cannot, i n the m a n n e r prescribed b y t h e decree o f M a r c h

21st last, justify their means o f exislence and the performance o f their civic duties; 3d, those who have been refused certificates o f civism; 4th, public functionaries suspended or removed from t h e i r f u n c t i o n s b y t h e N a t i o n a l C o n v e n t i o n o r its commissioners a n d n o t reinstated, es-

pecially those who have been or shall be removed i n virtue o f the decree o f August 14th last; 5 t h , those o f t h e f o r m e r nobles, a l l o f the husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons o r daughters, brothers o r s i s t e r s , a n d agents o f t h e Emigrés w h o h a v e n o t constantly manifested t h e i r a t t a c h m e n t t o t h e r e v o l u t i o n ; 6 t h , t h o s e w h o h a v e e m i g r a t e d from F r a n c e i n t h e i n t e r v a l from July

1, 1789, to the publication o f t h e decree o f M a r c h 30-April 8, 1792, a l t h o u g h they m a y have

returned t o France within the period fixed by that decree o r earlier”

561

Hegel's Ethics

his Critique of Practical Reason and Religion Within the Bounds of Reason Alone. Accordingly, we will come back t o that i n a moment, with “Spirit” [once again] Certain o f Itself.”

We have said very little about freedom during the course o f our discussion o f “Reason” and “Spirit.” I n fact, the only attention we have given t o “freedom” in our discussion of the entire book is i n the wholly non-political section on “Stoicism, Skepticism and Unhappy Consciousness,” where “freedom” emerges as an evasive illusion, an attempt t o escape from the hardships o f lite, a purely negative freedom. That is what we find here too, a purely negative freedom, but i n this instance, “absolute freedom” pertains n o t t o individuals but t o “the people” as a w h o l e . ’ Thus the meaning o f “freedom” is no longer, as in Rousseau’s second Discourse, “independence from other people”; i t i s rather t h e c o n c e p t t o b e found i n Rousseau’s Social Contract, i n

which freedom is ultimately a property o f society, rather than individuals. I t is “negative” i n the sense o f freedom from restraint, b u t also i n the sense that i t is wholly destructive, which is not to say, however,

that i t does not serve an essential role i n the dialectic. The terror at least plays the same function i n modern life that war and systematic violence have always played, to remind the individual o f his o r her

dispensability vis-a-vis the state, t o assert the ultimate reality o f society and “the people,” i n place o f the alienated individualism and utilitarianism o f the Enlightenment. Hegel suggests several different arguments here, all o f them u n -

usually abstract for the subject matter. We can ignore here the usual accounts o f “the second revolution”—the growing differences bet w e e n the very different interest groups that made u p “the people” (more formally, “ t h e third estate,”) the likelihood o f foreign invasion

and a counter-revolution by displaced aristocrats and clergy, the travesty that was called “ t h e National Assembly,” and the subversive vitriol

o f e x t r e m e radicals like

Marat.!®®

The Terror for Hegel had t o be

seen as a conceptual development, first, from the Enlightenment concept o f “utility” taken to its extreme, second, o f the intrinsically destructive orientation o f this notion o f “freedom,” a n d third, the asser-

tion o f the general will against all individuality.!*®¢ What Hegel does not argue here is what we might m o s t expect h i m to argue, that i n 154. F o r a n extensive discussion o f Hegel's notion o f “freedom” here, see Richard

Schacht, “Hegel on Freedom,” i n MacIntyre (ed.), Hegel, pp. 289-328. 155. See, for example, R.R. Palmer, The World o f the French Revolution ( N e w York: H a r p e r a n d Row, 1972) a n d his Age o f Democratic Revolution, 2 vols. (Princeton: Princeton

Univ. Press, 1969-70).

156. I have developed a somewhat different ideological interpretation o f the vicissitudes

of the

revolution

i n History

and Human Nature, c h .

5.

562

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

dividualism as such, a n d the inordinate emphasis o n individual rights

above all else, ultimately emerges i n a kind o f bloody anarchism, a neo-Hobbesian war o f “all against all.” B u t this is what the revolution was not, however m u c h chaos and small-scale anarchy there may have been i n the streets o f Paris. “ T h e Terror” was “the people” a n d not mere individual thuggery. “ T h e Terror” was “Spirit” unleashed, as-

serting itself absolutely and without regard t o cost. T h e first argument is obscure and ostensibly confused, b u t i t seems to b e this: as we increasingly emphasize “utility” we tend to lose o u r hold o n “objectivity” and all that counts is usefulness. B u t the notion

o f usefulness 1s itself indeterminate when specific ends are n o t specified and this lack o f determination is what Hegel calls “absolute freedom” (582-83). H e then immediately turns to Rousseau and more o r

less paraphrases the main arguments o f the Social Contract: the world consists of the “General Will” o f the people, which cannot be represented and is t o be found i n every citizen (584). The notion of “utility” gets lost here, as Hegel begins to discuss (cryptically) the tenuous al-

hance o f different social groups under a single auspice (“the third estate”) i n which all distinctions o f r a n k a n d privilege are done away with (585). A n d i n case we were still looking for i t , the concept o f

“utility” 1s said t o disappear, as it did indeed i n the moralizing o f Rousseau—and Robespierre (586); We desire t o substitute i n our country, morality for egoism, honesty for mere honor, principle for habit, duty for decorum, the empire o f reason for the tyranny o f fashion, contempt of vice for scorn o f misfortune, pride for insolence, large-mindedness for vanity . . .

'%7

The second argument is more straightforward: the “absolute freedom” o f the revolution was essentially the destruction o f classes, privileges, ranks, a n d distinctions, b u t once this has been done, it contin-

ues its destructive activities within itself, destroying individuals and all distinctions because it does not know how to d o anything else (585— 90). I n d e e d , the success o f the revolution i n its initial aims was com-

pleted by the end o f the summer o f 1789, with the meeting o f the Estates-General.’”® T h e rest was aftermath, like the various settling

and spontaneous eruptions following a brief earthquake. Indeed, Kant used the events o f 1789 and the turning o f power to the people as a 157. Robespierre, “Definition o f t h e Goals o f t h e R e v o l u t i o n ” (Feb. 5 , 1794). See also, T M . T h o m p s o n , Robespierre (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1953), and G . R u d e (ed.), Robespierre (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1976).

158. T h e m e e t i n g o f t h e E s t a t e s G e n e r a l a l r e a d y signified t h e e l e c t o r a l p o w e r o f t h e Third Estate (by having equal voting power to the Clergy and Nobility) and repres e n t e d e v e n i n t h e King's e y e s t h e t r a n s f e r o f t h e o r g a n o f p o w e r t o w h a t w o u l d s o o n become (by t h e e n d o f the summer) “ t h e N a t i o n a l Assembly.”

Hegel's Ethics

563

rationalization for the whole o f the revolution, including the execu-

tion o f the king, activities which, i n principle, he ought t o have abhorred.!3® B u t Hegel's argument here is simple and full o f cautionary advice: a revolution is intrinsically negative, but once its goals have been fulfilled, i t c a n n o t then be turned around to do positive work. I n Carlyle’s famous phrase, “ i t cannot stop, till all the fuel

is done.” 1 6 0 The third argument is m o s t important, however, for it is here that we can see along with Hegel the positive feature o f the revolution,

despite its destructive manifestations. I n the terror-filled assertion of “the people” as “Spirit” against alienated individuality, Hegel sees the real selt-assertiveness o f Spirit, n o t i n the abstract “General Will” of Rousseau, b u t its positive assertion o f the moral will. I t is not the for-

mal apparatus o f the categorical imperative (which Hegel rejected a t the end of “Reason”) but the final, more “speculative” aspects of Kant’s (and Fichte’s) practical philosophy. As the Enlightenment moves away from the banality o f “utility” and adopted the more spiritual ideals o f Rousseau and radicalism, it thereby abandoned its primary concern with individual human happiness, and, n o t surprisingly, the later days o f the French revolution resembled nothing so much as a religious civil war. Thus Crane Brint o n a l s o writes, Robespierre survived because the terror was i n large part a religious movement, and Robespierre had many o f the qualities of a secondrate religious leader.'®!

I n the realm o f “absolute freedom,” the world is pure will, and the will is in every person as well as in the whole (584). B u t the only

results o f absolute freedom are negative and “the fury o f destruction” (589). T h e Absolute (as freedom) can prove its total independence only i n the same way that ( i n a n earlier section) the state could prove

its ultimate authority—but sending t o death or putting to death its own citizens (590). Hegel has a grisly allusion t o the guillotine here: I t is thus the coldest a n d meanest o f all deaths, with n o more signifi-

cance than cutting off a head o f cabbage . . . (Ibid.)

B u t i n this destruction, the spirit o f absolute freedom does indeed

discover what i t truly is; the spirit o f the whole i n which all individuals and distinctions are ultimately secondary. This “negative essence” of 159. Kant, The Metaphysical Elements ofJustice, trans. John Ladd (Indianapolis: BobbsMerrill, 1965).

160. Carlyle, The French Revolution, 2 vols. (New York: Dutton, 1955). 161. C r a n e B r i n t o n , A Decade o f Revolution ( N e w York: H a r p e r a n d Row, 1934), p . 108. M a r x , The German Ideology ( N e w York: I n t e r n a t i o n a l Publishers, 1977), p . 206.

564

Hitching the Highway of Despair

self-destruction turns around i n the positive confidence o f morality, the concrete “Will” o f Kantian morality (592—94). The final realization o f Spirit, i n other words, will have t o come about in Germany, not i n so “immature” a people as the French. (This particular insult was so stated b y Schiller, b u t most o f his countrymen, i n their new

chauvinism, would have agreed wholeheartedly.)

d. “Spirit Certain o f Itself”:

The Postulates o fPractical Reason (6, C.) While the French bourgeoisie, by means o f the m o s t colossal revolution that history has ever known, was achieving domination and conquering the Continent o f Europe, . . . the impotent German burghers did n o t get any farther than “good will” . . . Kant’s good will fully corresponds t o the impotence, depression and wretchedness of the German burghers, whose petty interests were never capable of developing into the national interests of a class [but] had their counterpart in their cosmopolitan swollen-headedness. —Karl M a r x , The German Ideology

The revolution i n Germany was Kant’s philosophy. Not for the German intellectuals was the threat o f prison and the guillotine, nor even the censure o f the state. As Lessing once said, “freedom” i n “Old Fritz’s” 162 Prussia consisted o f “the freedom t o advertise as many antireligious imbecilities as you wish,” but m o s t o f the German philosophers were n o t even willing t o risk this minimal, undependable freedom. (See the following chapter, “The Secret of Hegel”) They avoided politics and disguised even their unorthodox religious views in opaque discussions about “Practical Reason” and Kants obscure but eminently respectable jargon. So what emerged from these discussions was a sense o f virtue that, o n the face o f i t , seemed as unobjectionable as i t was politically impotent—the concept o f morality.

I t might seem t o the reader that we have been over this ground before. Indeed, what were we talking about i n chapter 5 if n o t Kant’s moral theories? B u t our topic there was “rational autonomy” and its formal results and criterion—the categorical imperative. What concerns us here is rather the broader moral picture i n which that formal moral theory is embedded. Individual “rational autonomy” is n o t the issue o f morality as such, a n d the whole discussion o f Kant can be

turned around; instead o f reading Kant in t e r m s o f the individual 162. L e . F r e d e r i c k t h e Great.

Hegel’s Ethics

565

formulating universal moral laws, one can understand Kant as the

recognition o f a universal moral community (“the kingdom of ends” '%3) i n which every individual 1s defined by the moral law. We also recognize this as the essence o f Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre, that the moral

consciousness is n o t merely an individual particular consciousness but a universal consciousness, “the consciousness o f this law which . . . forms

the basis for the intuition o f self-activity and freedom.1®* Hegel describes i t as immediately present t o itself i n its substance . . . this immediacy which is its own reality . . . the immediate [as] being itself, and, as pure 1mmediacy purified by absolute negativity, i t is being i n general, or all being. (597)

I n his earlier essays “Faith and Knowledge” and “Natural Law,” Hegel treated Kant and Fichte together as the theorists of “formal morality” and “Practical Reason.” The crucial point t o his interpretation here, accordingly, is that both o f them—whatever their differences—

hold that the moral consciousness is a universal consciousness, purged o f everything particular and empirical and literally identical i n everyone. Indeed, i n both Kant and Fichte, though with very different metaphysical twists, i t is asserted that the moral self-consciousness is indeed reality “ i n itself” 165 (597), n o t only the form o f freedom but its c o n t e n t as well (598). Hegel comments that this consciousness is both immediate and mediated—immediate i n the Fichtean sense that one knows oneself by “intuition” as “an immediate consciousness derived from no other” ' % and mediated i n the Kantian sense that one does n o t merely pick u p one’s moral principles from surrounding unreflective Sittlichkeit but through rational understanding o f one’s duty. Summarizing the whole o f Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre i n t w o sentences, Hegel tells us Into its conscious will all objectivity, the whole world, has withdrawn. I t is absolutely free in that it knows its freedom, and just this knowledge is its substance and purpose and its sole c o n t e n t . (598) Nature, i n other words, is n o longer viewed as “external” but becomes

the stage o n which we exercise and prove o u r moral consciousness. 163. K a n t , F M M , p p . 433ff, 438ff. 164. Fichte, Wiss., p . 41.

165. F o r Kant, the moral self is “ t h e self-in-itself,” as opposed t o the empirical self

o f experience and the transcendental self o f knowing. For Fichte, the self is quite literally everything, b u t he denies what Kant generally refers t o as “the thing-in-itself”—

that is, objects “outside o f us.” O n the essential n a t u r e o f the self-in-itself, however, they are i n perfect agreement. What they would disagree about (violently) is whether this self is also t h e self w h i c h “constitutes” (“posits”) the w o r l d o f nature. F o r Kant, i t is not; for Fichte, i t is.

166. Fichte, Wiss.

566

Hitching the Highway of Despair

We have been through this before, o f course, i n a more primitive way at the beginning o f chapter 4 and a t the beginning o f chapter 5 too, but we have repeatedly warned against viewing the Phenomenology as

a covert sequence o f particular thinkers. Fichte—or different aspects

o f Fichte’s thinking— appear throughout the Phenomenology and, e v e n more so does Kant. Indeed, there are fewer chapters that d o n o t have a Kantian constituent than d o , whether o r not they are, like the prese n t section, so obvious.

“The Moral View o f the World” is essentially a t r e a t m e n t o f Kant and Fichte, but this raises once again the question o f the over-all structure o f the Phenomenology. I f we read the first part o f chapter 5 as Schelling’s identity-philosophy, then i n that sense, we m u s t ask, are

Kant and Fichte, whom Hegel had attacked in Schelling’s defense only a few years before, “higher” o n the dialectical ladder than H e g e l ’ friend? T h e answer is, again, I think, that these various sequences are not t o be taken as a n ascension b u t rather as various roads along

a cosmic phenomenological panorama, the sum total o f which adds u p to a n all-encompassing view o f the whole. T h e present section, in one sense parallel to the “Individuality” discussion o f Kant’s morality

but i n another sense quite distinct from it, fits what Hegel takes t o be an utterly central place i n that panorama—as a truncated b u t yet

agreeable view o f the Absolute, from which he (and Schelling) could make the few final steps.!% “The Moral View o f the World” ( 5 9 9 - 6 1 5 ) is i n fact concerned with two views o f the world—the view one has o f the world qua moral agent, and the view one has o f the world as observer o f nature. I n d e e d , i t is

the very essence o f Kants and Fichte’s philosophy that these be n o t only distinct b u t i n some sense opposed, since it would make n o sense to speak o f moral “oughts” i f the world ( o f nature) were not other than the way things ought to be (599). I n Kant, the distinction between the t w o worlds (or two “standpoints”) is a n elaborate distinction between faculties o f reason and the consequent realms they constitute;

i n Fichte, the opposition between the moral consciousness (self) and nature

(non-selt) is precisely in order to provide a stage for moral ac-

uvity. For Fichte, consciousness o f one’s duty (Pflicht) is taken t o be “the essential fact” and nature is “completely devoid o f independence and essential being” I n other words, it is strictly supportive o f the moral consciousness, not, as in K a n t , a n independent realm o f its own. I n K a n t , however, the independence o f nature is both independent a n d “indifferent” to o u r moral concerns—at least i n the realm 167. Differenz-essay o f 1801, on Fichte’s System, pp. 119ff.

Hegel's Ethics

567

o f the second Critique; since “the only thing that is good without qualification 1s a good will” (i.e. a well-intending consciousness), i t 1s only the intention, not its consequences in nature, that count— Even i f it should happen that, by a particularly unfortunate fate or by the niggardly provisions o f a stepmotherly nature, this will should be wholly lacking in power t o accomplish its purpose, and even i f the greatest effort should not avail it t o achieve anything o f its end . . . 1t would sparkle like a jewel i n its own right, as something that had its full worth in itself.'®®

B u t for Kant too, nature is without “essential being” insofar as it is

mere appearance o r “phenomenon”; morality and the moral consciousness are real. Thus a conflict develops in Kant—which Fichte tried t o resolve i n a one-sided way—between viewing n a t u r e as independent and i n itself essential vis-a-vis the moral consciousness and nature as dependent and inessential. I t 1s a conflict that can be made more evident to us independently o f the technical considerations o f

Kant’s “faculty” philosophy if we think of the following kind of query— “ t o what extent is i t necessary that o u r (good) intentions actually have

an effect i n the world?” What it—Ilike Dostoyevsky’s Prince Mishkin i n The Idiot—our every good intention were to turn into a disaster, would that n o t undermine o u r moral goodness, despite our inten-

tions? What is the difference between having good intentions and making a mere wish for the good, devoid o f action? O r as Hegel puts i t , what i f the moral consciousness

finds cause for complaint about such a state of incompatibility bet w e e n itself and existence, and about the injustice which restricts it t o having its object merely as pure duty, but refuses t o let it see the object and

self realized. (601)

O n the one hand, the very notion of moral consciousness requires that the world not always conform t o its view o f how things ought t o be; o n the other h a n d , i f nature is i n d e e d “incompatible,” that is, i f

the essence o f morality lies simply i n one’s sense of duty and n o t i n actions—morality seems to lose its point, which is n o t just to have a n “inner” sense o f being a virtuous soul but to d o well i n the world.

That is what this section is about. I n Kants second Critique, the division o f “Nature and Freedom” turns o u t some odd divisions i n moral philosophy—which are a cause

o f much debate among his followers. For example, “happiness” t u r n s out o n the “ N a t u r e ” side o f the dichotomy, and this leads to some

famously awkward questions that plagued Kant himself until his death. 168. K a n t , F M M , p . 394.

568

Hitching the Highway of Despair

For example, does one have a duty to be happy?—or 1s happiness not a moral concern? ( K a n t i n fact answers i n the Foundations that one

does have a duty t o try t o become happy, for the somewhat odd reason that, i f one is not happy, one is less inclined to d o one’s duties

toward others.) I f happiness is the end o f the good life (which Kant admits readily) then what is the relationship between duty—which is impersonal and universal—and happiness, which is strictly personal and individual? (602) Kant argues that moral worth is based on the sense o f duty alone, without reference to personal happiness.!%® Hegel answers, “The moral consciousness cannot forgo happiness and leave this element o u t o f its absolute purpose” (Ibid.). O f course, Hegel is right. N o matter what conception and emphasis

on duty and good intentions might be necessary for an adequate moral theory, we surely look with suspicion—at least—upon a theory that does n o t place some conception o f personal well-being and happiness a t its very core. But i f “happiness” as such is n o t within the realm o f “Will” b u t part o f “Nature,” a “natural aim” rather than a duty, then once again 1t appears as i f a single set o f considerations—living the

good (including morally good) life, splits into t w o , the pursuit o f happiness on the one hand and moral obligations and duties on the other.!? B u t this is n o t only schizoid, i n Hegel’s view; i t also leads to a most unreasonable consequence, even i n Kant’s o w n view. I t is simply a

matter of fact that the wicked sometimes prosper and the good suffer. A n d this fact is anathema t o our sense o f morality and justice. There-

fore, Kant says, moral goodness, though i t must n o t be performed for the sake o f happiness, ought nevertheless t o be rewarded by happiness. This leads, however, to a paradox; how is i t that one can d o one’s duty for duty’s sake a n d at the same time have a n eye to its rewards? K a n t i n fact never resolves this for himself (and was worki n g o n some new solutions t o i t when h e died i n 1804'7!). B u t this is a crucial consequence o f the Kantian split between “Nature” (the world

o f our natural inclinations, our physical actions and our happiness) and “Freedom” (the world o f our good intentions, our will, sense o f duty and m o r a l w o r t h . ) I t is this schizoid split i n o u r sense o f ourselves that had turned

Hegel against Kant i n 1798, when he studied Kant’s Metaphysics of Morals and attacked Kant’s “formalism” i n “The Spirit o f Christianity 169. Kant, FMM, p. 397. 170. 1bid. p. 442. Cf. Kant’s Political Writings, t r a n s . H . Reiss (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1970): “The individual is n o t thereby expected t o renounce his natural aim o f attaining happiness when the question o f duty arises; for like any finite rational being, he simply c a n n o t do so” (64). 171. Opus Posthumum, Adickes, ed. (Berlin, 1929).

Hegel's Ethics

569

a n d I t s Fate” i n 1799. There, a n d i n t h e “ N a t u r a l L a w ” essay, Hegel

objected to the “alienation” o f o u r selves f r o m our selves, o u r passions (“inclinations”) from o u r reason, o u r sense o f well-being from o u r sense o f duty—and this, o f course, is what leads to his all-important

conception o f Sittlichkeit, that set o f tellow-feelings that are both inclinations ( i n the sense that we “naturally,” 1.e. spontaneously, want to pursue them) and social duties as well. B u t K a n t has n o such concep-

tion, and his notions o f duty and inclination are hopelessly isolated i n each individual. The notion of duty includes reference to other people as a matter o f logical necessity, according to Kant; b u t i t does not

include any reference t o social welfare—which he would consider a mere contingency, and so too the notion o f sacrifice for the group,

which Kant finds a perennial puzzle and considers “supererogatory” (“beyond the call o f duty”) just because his solipsistic notion of morality cannot find a place for it. The notion that doing one’s duty 1s rewarded i n a t least one important sense by the sense of belonging i n Suttlichkeit 1tselt 1s a notion that Kant never takes sufhciently seriously.!72

Where this split between duty and happiness, “Freedom and Nature,” becomes m o s t critical, however, is in the seeming “incompatibility” o f the virtuous life o f duty and the actual rewards of happiness. The desired commensuration o f virtue and happiness, or what K a n t calls “ t h e

S u m m u m Bonum,”

1s n o t a matter o f fact (Kant: “ I t m u s t

appear strange that philosophers o f both ancient and modern times have been able t o find happiness i n very just proportion t o virtue i n this life” ! 7 ? ) . And so Kant makes i t a “postulate o f practical reason”— i n other words, a principle that must b e believed i f one is t o be rational. I t 1s not known to be true (since nothing i n the realm o f practical reason is known, o n Kant’s view) and is to be believed as a nec-

essary presupposition o f morality, according t o Kant. But here Hegel sees a flaw in Kant’s thinking which, years before, he had examined i n some detail i n the “Spirit o f Christianity” essay and i n the “Natural Law” essay t o o . Hegels objection is, first o f all, that such an utterly critical aspect o f our search for the good life should be part o f knowledge, n o t o n l y a “postulate” (602). This is why, i n the Phenomenology

and 1n his later lectures on the Philosophy o f History, Hegel is so concerned that some sense o f “reason” i n the over-all picture o f h u m a n affairs can actually be demonstrated—not for each and every i n dividual, perhaps, but for humanity i n general. But, o n the other 172. “ A good will is capable . . . o f its own k i n d o f contentment” (FMM, 396) and “reason should have a power o f infusing a feeling of pleasure o r satisfaction i n the fulfill

ment o f duty” (460). 173. I b i d . p. 456.

570

Hitching the Highway of Despair

hand, Hegel has a keen sense o f tragedy regarding individuals caught between duties a n d happiness o r conflicting duties (Antigone, notably) which K a n t seems n o t to have. Kant’s “postulates o f practical reason” make such a sense unnecessary, for through faith, i f not knowledge, h e really believed that, i n the end, virtue a n d goodness would

be made commensurable. T h e “Postulates o f Practical Reason” a t stake h e r e a r e t w o , i n es-

sence—the belief i n God as an all-powerful all-good Judge and the b e l i e f i n t h e immortality o f t h e h u m a n s o u l . ( A t h i r d postulate—be-

lief in human freedom o f action—is also crucial t o Kant, but Hegel is n o t objecting t o that here.) Kants argument follows quite readily from what we have already indicated; since a good person would n o t reasonably act for the sake o f duty i f he or she also believed that the effort was ultimately hopeless, i t w o u l d seem to follow i n some (nondeductive) sense that, if one were to act morally a n d reasonably, h e o r

she would also have t o believe i n future rewards and punishments, i n this life, guaranteed by a Supreme Judge who knows all and is concerned with perfect justice. The problem Hegel sees here is the tentative n a t u r e o f that “ i f ” ; i f the justification for believing i n the t w o postulates 1s their necessity as presuppositions for accepting the moral view o f the world, and i f the justification of our acceptance not

o f that moral view depends u p o n o u r acceptance o f the t w o postu-

lates, we have just argued ourselves into a tight and n o t a t all virtuous circle. We believe A and B because they are entailed by C but we believe i n C because o f A and B. This is the central argument o f the second (critical) stage o f the section “Moral Duplicity” (616-31). T h e problem o f the Summum B o n u m , like the problem o f under-

standing the role o f action i n morality (as opposed

to

pure “good

will”), stems from Kant’s drastic division o f the faculties o f the soul,

and i t is this sense o f dividedness that motivates Hegels efforts throughout his various discussions of Kant and, ulumately, througho u t the Phenomenology. B u t t h e split between faculties is a problem i n

its own right, i n addition t o the paradoxical consequences i t entails i n the realm o f action a n d o u r sense o f ultimate reward. T o so distin-

guish the rational faculties o f “Will” and our sense o f duty from our “inclinations”—our sensuous urges, o u r “natural” desires, o u r p u r suit o f happiness—is to present us with a tragically alienated picture

of ourselves, i n which our “real selves” are our morally self-conscious selves and, opposed t o them, are our various desires, needs, and hopes (603). Here again is that fatal split o f the “Unhappy Consciousness,” divided against itself, like the wretched ascetic w h o views his o w n “ani m a l functions” w i t h unmitigated h o r r o r a n d revulsion. Kant, how-

Hegel’s Ethics

571

ever, is neither an ascetic nor unhappy. What he gives us, Hegel says, is another “postulate,” this time, the postulate o f the harmony o f inclinations and duty, first o f all i n isolated individuals who have what Kant calls “a holy will” and “the idea of moral perfection” (in which one only wants what one o u g h t to do).!”* Furthermore, K a n t ex-

presses his confidence i n moral progress which, strangely enough, was particularly bolstered b y the French Revolution.!”> Here again,

Hegel rejects the postulation o f some far off reconciliation i n favor o f the demand that one now demonstrate the necessary harmony o f con-

sciousness, instead o f beginning with the view that our natural inclinations are intrinsically “vice-breeding” and “monsters which reason has to fight” (603). T h e desire t o free oneself from one’s inclinations

which Kant urged is viewed as utter self-destruction by Hegel, particularly since Kant himself insists that this harmony “is a perfection o f which n o rational b e i n g in the world o f sense is at any time capable.”!76

Furthermore, i f one did succeed i n the impossible—in making oneself holy and harmonious—the moral consciousness as such would disappear (603). This is why Fichte, for whom striving is everything, celebrates the lack o f what Kant postulates, since it is internal opposition, indeed something o f a n internal war, that makes life worth

living. Thus Hegel rightly points o u t that both Kant and Fichte have masked another paradox, i n this case, the goal o f a task fulhlled and the need t o retain that task as a task (ibid.).!”” O n e cannot have both a

desire and its tulfillment.!’8 Hegel thus interprets Kant with three wishful “harmonies” which i n fact are all appealed to “ t h e d i m remoteness o f infinity” (603): (1)

the necessary interrelation of the moral consciousness as will and the actual state o f the world through action; (2) the reasonable expectation that living the (morally) good life will be rewarded proportion174. Ibid., p. 408-09. 175. “ T h e revolution o f a gifted people which we have seen unfolding i n o u r day

may succeed or miscarry; i t may be filled with misery and atrocities

t o the point that a sensible m a n , were h e b o l d l y to h o p e to execute i t successfully the second t i m e , w o u l d

never resolve

to

make the experiment

at

such cost—this revolution, I say, nonetheless

finds i n the hearts o f all spectators (who are n o t engaged i n this game themselves) a

wishful participation that borders closely on enthusiasm, the very expression o f which is fraught with danger; this sympathy, therefore, can have no other cause than a moral predisposition i n the human race” (Kant, On History, t r a n s . L W . Beck (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959), p. 144. 1 7 6 . Critique o f Practical Reason, p . 1 2 6 (emphasis a d d e d ) . Cf. S a r t r e , i n B e i n g and t o be God,” s t i l l t o h a v e purposes, struggles, aspirations.

Nothingness, again o n “man’s desire

i.e.

to

be complete within oneself b u t

177. FMM, p. 422. Cf. “Virtue is the strength o f man’s maxims i n fulfilling his duty. We can recognize strength o f any k i n d only by the obstacles i t can overcome” (Metaphysics o f Morals, p . 54).

178. Cf. P l a t o , Symposium:

“Socrates:

Love c a n only

want

what i t

lacks.”

572

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ately; and (3) the psychological necessity of finding one’s inclinations n o t always a t war with one’s sense o f duty. I t is i n action and the first hoped-for harmony, however, that Hegel believes all three come together (just as i n Antigone i t is action that brings the conflict o f laws i n t o consciousness (604)). Laws a n d the S u m m u m B o n u m are univer-

sal, but actions are particular and geared t o particular situations. Therefore, one needs t o distinguish i n the Kantian-Fichtean philosophy two different moral consciousnesses: one providing the concept

o f morality (“the categorical imperative” etc.) i n general, the other geared t o the particular circumstances (much as Aristotle distinguished between the “major premise” o f a practical syllogism which consisted o f a general law and a minor premise which consisted o f a “perception” (605)).!7° T h e first moral consciousness provides laws o f d u t y w i t h o u t reference t o particular c o n t e n t ; t h e second moral con-

sciousness 1s geared t o circumstances, including one’s own desire for

happiness. There are elements i n Kant which suggest such a division, but the target o f this discussion is clearly Fichte who argues the idea o f an “absolute” moral consciousness acting through us, which makes our duties “sacred” (605).18¢

A new dichotomy has appeared, between the everyday self o f moral activities a n d the “sacred” law-giver w i t h i n us (607). (This new split

will be o f particular importance i n understanding the final vicissitudes o f this chapter.) As individual moral agents, we are condemned as the “ U n h a p p y Consciousness” was condemned to forever seeing

ourselves as imperfect and inadequate moral agents, unworthy o f happiness and hoping for i t only as a matter o f “Grace” (608). The

dialectic then takes its by now wholly predictable twist—as this unhappy moral consciousness makes every effort t o reconcile its projected moral ideals with its own less than ideal intentions and actions, n o t realizing that w e ourselves are the t r u e moral consciousness, n o t merely imperfect shadows o f some more perfect b u t unrealizable self

inside o f us (609-15). We once again reject Kant’s two-world view and Fichte’s one-sided emphasis on the moral struggle, on the “opposition” between the way things are and the moral struggle, o n the “opposition” between the way things are and the way they ought t o b e . ! 8 ! I t was the appeal t o the moral consciousness through which Fichte thought that he would “systematize” Kant and break down his schizoid world-view; i n fact, he only replaced one opposition with another, 179. Aristotle, Ethics, B o o k VI, esp. chs. 9-11. 1 8 0 . Fichte, Science of Ethics, t r a n s . A . E . Kroger, a n d Vocation o f M a n e s p . p p . 148—

49. Kant’s employment o f this formulation o f duty is t o be found especially i n his Rel:gion o f 1793 and his posthumous writings. 181. Differenz-essay, p. 159, Cf., o f c o u r s e , t h e f a m o u s apologem for actuality that o p e n s u p t h e Philosophy o f Right, “ W h a t i s r a t i o n a l i s a c t u a l a n d what i s actual i s rational.”

Hegel’s Ethics

573

no less damaging, no less “unhappy,” and no less cynical; “There is no moral existence i n realıty” (613). The sub-section “Moral Duplicity” is mainly concerned, as w e have already indicated, with Kant’s postulation o f an ultimate harmony bet w e e n virtue (doing one’s duty) and happiness (as its reward). But this concern is subsumed under a generally more Fichtean discussion o f a set o f separations within the moral consciousness itself, i n particular, the shift o f the m o s t important moral considerations t o a transcendent moral consciousness within us (but not, as such, us), relegat-

ing personal actions t o mere imperfect efforts toward the realization o f this “other” moral consciousness. This is the “duplicity,” as i n other parts o f the Phenomenology, o f shifting the burden o f responsibility

from oneself t o some projected “other” and, i n this case, treating one’s own particular actions as o f no real importance (616-17). I t is here that Hegel advances his second, more logical objection against the S u m m u m B o n u m thesis, that, even without questioning “the assumption that there is a n actual moral consciousness” one cannot

defend the postulated “harmony o f morality and Nature” [virtue

and happiness] as necessary to moral consciousness (618). T h e mere postulation is n o t i n fact enough to justify moral action, and we can-

both defend our postulation in terms o f morality and morality i n terms o f our postulates (618-19). Furthermore, in our “duplicity” we

not

tend t o dismiss the importance o f o u r o w n actions as insignificant i n the over-all improvement o f the world, even though action, for most o f us, is always possible and the only locus o f o u r o w n moral efforts

and moral worth. (We saw a similar argument against Kant’s “love” formulation in the chapter o n “Reason as law-giver” (425).) This concern should be p u t i n the perspective o f Hegel's o w n times, and his

keen awareness, under the shadow o f Napoleon and monumental forces a t work i n Europe, that little can be expected o f the individual, a n d h e can expect little o f himself (Preface,72). B u t this does n o t i n

any way unburden us o f responsibility for our own actions and, ironically, i t is this Kantian-Fichtean conception o f “the moral consciousness” that allows us to do so. The view of ourselves as absolutely moral, i n other words, allows us to dismiss o u r particular personal performances as n o t o f ultimate moral importance (619). K a n t clumsily corrects this intolerable paradox with his “second formulation o f the categorical imperative,” that one should always act as if the maxim of

action were to become, n o t just a universal law ( o f morality), b u t a universal law of nature (619).182

I t 1s only “the highest good” (the Summum Bonum) that really m a t 182. FMM, p. 421 (emphasis added).

574

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ters, b u t this again carries with it the paradox that, i f achieved, moral

consciousness—that is, the struggle—would no longer exist. This, Hegel argues, is why the moral consciousness cannot be absolute, c a n n o t be the ultimately harmonious consciousness which idealism requires; moral struggle is not itself the end, the meaning o f life (as i n Fichte) b u t at most a n over-zealous description o f one distorted aspect o f the

over-all domain o f spiritual concerns (620-21). I n its efforts t o purity

the moral will and eliminate contrary desires and impulses, morality renders itself irrelevant t o everyday action and the actual content of our actions, again only “postulating” some ideal agreement between them. This renders morality ultimately vacuous, since i f this harmony were ever realized, the result would be, again, the e n d o f moral con-

sciousness, the end o f the Fichtean struggle (622). Hegel also rejects Kant’s (and Fichte’s) confidence i n “moral progress,” insisting that morality cannot be so quantified (623). B u t the upshot o f all o f these arguments 1s that morality as conceived by Kant and Fichte is an ul-

timately hopeless effort, n o t the concrete and satisfying participation i n Sutlichkeit that is Hegel's own ideal. Morality is not a n isolated i n -

dividual effort i n which we are torn apart by warring factions within ourselves, discouraged by the fact that our individual actions contribu t e little i f anything t o the actual improvement o f the world, embittered by the fact that o u r good deeds are n o t in fact rewarded i n some

individual tangible way and that our happiness—if indeed we are so lucky—has little i f anything t o do with our moral consciousness (624). Thus i t 1s, years later, that Kierkegaard will attribute a mode o f despair t o the “ethical” person of much the same variety that he attributed t o Don Juan, once he realized that he would never be satisfied. The ethical person, ultimately, accomplishes nothing. For Kierkegaard, this realization would hopetully lead t o a “leap o f faith” t o religion, i n which this impotence would be rationalized. For Hegel t o o , t h e i n t r i n s i c a l l y frustrating ideals o f Fichte’s “ e t h i c a l i d e a l i s m ”

a n d Kant’s moral postulations suggest such a “leap,” n o t yet to reli-

gion, but—as we have seen several times before i n the Phenomenology when times got tough—a withdrawal from the world. I n this case, t h e withdrawal is from t h e m o r a l world a n d t h e rejection o f moral consciousness as such ( m u c h as we saw i n “Virtue and the Way o f the World” i n chapter 5). There is a tendency to nihilism, a rejection o f the notion o f moral worth altogether (625) and a final

projection o f all moral worth t o the “other” moral consciousness i n whom, again, Hegel suggests the moral consciousness itself would vanish ( 6 2 6 - 2 8 ) . T h e n o w familiar paradox has a Sartrian r i n g ; to b e moral, we would have t o be perfect, in fact, be God; b u t as God, mo-

Hegel’s Ethics

575

rality would lose its point, a n d so we reject G o d (629-30). I n fact, we reject everything but our own “inner” moral sense, making once again

that retreat from the world which has demeaned philosophy and religion since ancient Stoicism. But this ume, the retreat is from a too perfect idea o f a distinctively moral world, a n d (as i n the “Virtue” section o f chapter 5) the retreat is i n fact a k i n d o f re-entry, a renewed

recognition o f our own moral worth, without the unflattering baggage o f Kant and Fichte’s too-transcendental interpretation o f “the moral consciousness” (631).

The final set o f t u r n s , again familiar t o us throughout the Phenomenology, (particularly the sequence from “Stoicism” through “Unhappy Consciousness”) consists o f the various strategies o f inward ret r e a t , n o w i n t h e g u i s e o f “ c o n s c i e n c e ” a n d a peculiar character c a l l e d

“the beautiful soul.” I n the preceding two sections, we have already seen how moral perfectionism leads (both i n theory and i n our own familiar practice) to a kind o f moral paralysis—an inability t o act and a sense o f despair when we do. Out of this impasse, t w o courses o f action (or inaction) present themselves immediately. The first “nihilist” course 1s to forget about morality a n d aim simply for happiness,

one’s own and others’ (625). The other course, which Hegel traces here, is t o imagine the moral absolute i n one’s own individual self (632). Thus the moral self-consciousness which goes by the name o f “conscience” (also taken from Fichte, Science of Ethics'®3) is yet a fur-

ther breach with Sittlichkeit, since it utterly rejects the authority o f community laws a n d opinions. I t is also a k i n d o f compromise, o f sorts,

between the too abstract and formal universal laws o f morality

a n d the particular circumstances o f action. ( T h u s Fichte calls i t “ t h e

material condition for the morality o f action,” p. 217.) I n addition, o f course, i t is also—though unacknowledged—the voice o f Sittlichkeit.

Thus Freud quite reasonably attributes “conscience” t o the “Superego” and the consciously forgotten instructions o f one’s parents i n childhood; and Heidegger more mysteriously describes “conscience” as nothing but a seemingly foreign voice which is i n fact one’s own,

“unplanned, unprepared, unwilled.”!#* Nevertheless, conscience has the distinct advantage o f n o t confusing morality with an abstract set o f formal calculations (as i n Kant) o r with the whole o f a religious

(Christian) world-view without which morality would be impossible (634).

Conscience is another one of those “forms o f consciousness” which c a n b e c h a r a c t e r i z e d as “ c e r t a i n t y , ” l i k e “ S e n s e - C e r t a i n t y , ” “Self-

183. Esp. ch. 8, p. 150ff, p. 217 £f.; also Vocation ofMan, pp. 136, 154. 184. Heidegger, Being and Time, p . 189.

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

576

Certainty,” etc. (635—37). I t simply “sees” what is right, through the morass o f conflicting duties and claims o f the Kantian moral con-

!® I t does n o t separate duty from n a t u r e and the concrete sciousness. reality i n which i t acts, for i t is always geared precisely t o the particular situation.!®® I t is also relativistic, however, and i n this i t n o t only breaks with communal Sittlichkeit but r e t r e a t s from the moral sphere proper, for morality, as Kant rightly insists, cannot b e just a matter o f

personal feelings but necessarily universal and applicable t o everyone. B u t conscience is certain only o f what 2 m u s t do, a n d the m a n

o f conscience, though he feels bound t o obey his own intuitions, need not demand that anyone else d o so (637). A n d yet, Hegel says, con-

science nevertheless confers universal validity on its actions, and must be recognized as such by others too (639-40). I n other words, we respect someone w h o “obeys” the dictates o f conscience, even i f we

ourselves do

not

agree with or find absurd its demands. But here

we find another familiar dilemma (from the sequence o n “Self-

Actualization” i n chapter 5): the personal dictates o f conscience a t the same time present themselves as universal laws, a n d supposedly ob-

jective moral considerations turn i n fact on personal emotional and personality factors (643). Thus the dictates o f conscience can just as easily be viewed as a species o f “duplicity” i n which “conscience,” for example, m i g h t dictate a course o f action that might better be described as “cowardice” (644). Since the criteria for conscience are strictly

personal, virtually any course o f action can become “ a matter o f conscience,” a n d its content is arbitrary (645). I n d e e d , i t has n o content at all, since i t can arbitrate any law as i t will at the moment (646) a n d there is utterly n o guarantee o f consistency o r agreement w i t h others

i n the moral community (647-49). As i n “ T h e Law o f the Heart,” the dictates o f conscience are quite rightly suspected by others as mere expressions of self-interest under the guise o f morals (649-50). Moral language a t this point loses its intelligibility, for words like “ought,” which necessarily refer t o what moral philosophers call “universalizable” propositions, now come t o refer only t o the “perverse . . . assurance that consciousness is con185. Kant’s problem with conflicts o f duties is notorious (FMM, 421f.) and exercises Fichte as well (in h i s Science o f Ethics). K a n t a t t e m p t s a s e r i e s o f complex d i s t i n c t i o n s between “perfect and imperfect duties” and “inner and outer” duties t o provide criteria for decisions between them, b u t i t is Fichte who attempts t o resolve the issue i n a single

stroke with “conscience” as “the material condition for morality” (217ff). 186. T h i s same move has been manifest i n r e c e n t years i n a simple-minded moral

theory entitled “situation ethics”; it t o o appeals t o immediate “insight” and systematically ignores t h e s o c i a l p a r a m e t e r s a n d d e t e r m i n a n t s o f conscience. Nevertheless, t h e p r o b l e m t o which i t addresses itself—our o v e r l y formalized n o t i o n o f “morality”—is very real.

Hegel's Ethics

577

vinced o f its duty” (653), regardless o f the form o r content o f that

duty. I t is the conviction itself, i n other words, that is “the essence of the matter” (ibid.). I f a person says h e o r she is acting o u t o f conscience, there 1s nothing more to say, n o proof, n o argument (654).

I n due course, Hegel warns us, the person of conscience comes t o see h i m o r herself as divine; every act is right, “for its action is its contem-

plation o f its own divinity” (655). But like all forms o f certainty so deprived o f any determinate content, conscience soon comes to rec-

ognize itself—however unhappily—as utterly empty, mere selfrighteousness without any actual concern for what is right. The person o f conscience is ultimately a fraud. Again, we reach one of those impasses with a number of possible retreats or leaps. The c o r r e c t response, i n Hegel's view, would be t o recognize what conscience has ignored all along, that its “voice” is i n fact the echo o f its own moral community, the dictates o f Sıttlichkeit and i n n o way its own; these dictates are neither arbitrary n o r empty. B u t so l o n g as morality is caught i n the bind o f individuality, this answer is n o t available (except, i n Kantian language, under the u n -

acceptable rubric o f “heteronomy,” “external” considerations which interfere with the purity o f moral autonomy).!8? Or, one could, again, retreat t o amoral “eudaimonism,” working for a m o r e o r less measur-

able happiness but giving u p claims t o “morality” as such; or, one could make a further retreat “within,” giving u p morality but giving u p happiness too, like the ascetic soul o f “Virtue and the Way o f the World,” and like the “Unhappy Consciousness” once again (658). This is “the beautiful soul,” the “pure consciousness” which stands “above” the moral w o r l d , w h o will n o t commit itself, w h o abstains from all

actions as “compromising,” and prides itself on “impotence”; I t v a n i s h e s l i k e a shapeless v a p o u r t h a t d i s s o l v e s i n t o t h i n air. ( 6 5 8 )

There is considerable debate concerning the actual references in this curious section. Hegel no doubt has i n mind the self-styled “beautiful souls” o f t h e local “ r o m a n t i k ” circle—Novalis (Friedrich v o n

Hardenberg), the Schlegel brothers and dozens o f lesser lights. And indeed, retreat into the pretensions o f “divine” self-appreciation without regard t o the state o f t h e world was n o t a n uncommon o r a

wholly unreasonable reaction t o the state o f Europe and Germany in particular i n the first years o f the new century. B u t I find this somewhat trivial interpretation o f this crucial t u r n of Hegel’s dialectic im187. F M M , 443—44. T h e notion o f “Individuality” h e r e is n o t i n k e e p i n g w i t h t h e s t r u c t u r e o f H e g e l ' s chapters, b u t t h e p r o b l e m i s t h a t v a r i o u s m o d e s o f individualistic thinking weave i n and o u t o f chapters 5 and 6 (as well as 4), interspersed with sections o n alienated Sittlichkeit. I t is n o t always possible t o clearly distinguish them.

578

Hitching the Highway of Despair

plausible, although, to b e sure, the Romantics d i d play a part i n his

thinking and are m o s t certainly alluded t o here. B u t the “beautiful soul” section is the last section of “Spirit,” the immediate predecessor o f the high-placed chapter o n “Religion”, and i t seems to m e to b e

overly provincial t o view Hegel's concern a t this critical juncture t o be some o f his obnoxious colleagues i n Jena. The “beautiful soul” is indeed a key image o f Romanticism, but i t is n o t the Romantics themselves. Allusions aside, t h e moral content o f the sub-section, o n “evil and forgiveness,” suggests a far more significant interpretation o f “the

beautiful soul.” I suggest that the beautiful soul in fact is Jesus, as a historical, moral

example, n o t yet the Christ o f Christianity but the spokesman for a moral move that Hegel had discussed explicitly, under the same name, i n his early essay “The Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate.” 8 8 I will treat this aspect o f the sub-section, accordingly, i n o u r next chapter, o n Hegel's philosophy o f religion. Jesus said that we should put our-

selves “above” evil and forgive those who trespass against us, and H e justified these attitudes by appeal t o the loving concern of God His Father. That is n o t so m u c h a n ethical theory as a matter o f theology.

As an ethical position, however, we can understand Jesus’ position as follows; given the already completed breach i n Sutlichkeit and consequent retreat to the individual soul as moral agent, given the in-

applicability o f abstract and formal Kantian principles and the ultim a t e emptiness o f the voice o f individual conscience, the honest selfconsciousness m u s t accept the painful consequence that all moral declarations are hypocritical and self-serving (660-62). I n fact, even t o attack conscientiousness i n others is a sign o f a similar selfrighteousness, and so too, attacking any moral position inevitably

presupposes some other moral stance which is no more justifiable, just as self-serving and just as hypocritical (663). The “beautiful soul” therefore abstains from moral judgment altogether, and i t does n o t act (664). But this i n t u r n exemplifies a new kind o f hypocrisy, since refusing t o a c t against evil is in fact t o condone it; i n other words, no action can b e as significant as action. ( “ I f you're n o t part o f the solu-

tion, then you're part o f the problem.”) The “beautiful soul” sees through the pretensions o f morality and the selfish motives within. When i t judges others, however, i t also deserves t o be judged i n turn. So i t learns—through the genius o f Christianity—not t o judge a t all. (“Judge not, that ye n o t be judged.”) Indeed, i t is by confessing its 188. Early Theo. Mss., p p . 234-37.

Hegel’s Ethics

579

own total inadequacy that the “beautiful soul” finally evades all judgpossibly through the salvation of Christianity, or possibly by the ironic t u r n that, in avoiding judgment, the “beautiful soul” emerges the moral superior, the victor i n a moral contest which is no longer being played in the field o f action, but simply i n the realm o f personal self-righteousness.!®® Hegel seems t o believe the latter (666—68) but he proceeds t o discuss the first, for the “beautiful soul” finally emerges as the reconciliation that is absolute Spirit (670) and enters into exisment,

tence n o t just as the historical person o f Jesus b u t as G o d himself

(671).190 Before we make the

turn to

Hegel's philosophy o f religion, how-

ever, we ought t o remind ourselves by way o f a summary the simple

moral o f the preceding long and complex tale, from the refutation of hedonism t o the rejection o f “the beautiful soul.” Hegel's point has been the inadequacy o f individual ethics and the primary sense of ourselves as part o f a n ethical community. T h e various twists a n d t u r n s o f t h e argument, n o matter h o w curiously organized, all lead us to this same conclusion. O u r practical efforts i n life, n o matter h o w disastrously thwarted by a society that is n o longer ( i f it ever was) a harmonious Siuttlichkeit, all lead us to the same conclusion too—that the meaning o f life is t o be found i n o u r sense o f belonging, i n friend-

ship, love, patriotism and, ultimately, i n humanism. But with our eye t o the n e x t chapter, we should also distinguish t w o humanisms—in line with Hegel's own objections t o the Enlightenment: there is the negative, defensive, typically utilitarian notion o f humanism, which rejects all suggestions o f religiosity and, for that matter, all forms o f

individual self-sacrifice and dedication

to

a larger whole—whether

G o d o r the State; and then there 1s the more spiritual, more exhilarating humanism which is all-embracing, a sense o f the human world itself as the ultimate object o f worship and respect. I t is the latter sense o f humanism, n o t the former, which we n o w see emerging from those forms o f consciousness traditionally a t war with humanism. I n

religion, as Hegel sees it, humanism is

not to

be submerged under

t h e shadow o f a n external divinity; to the contrary, the h u m a n world

is itself that divinity. That is t o say, “the Absolute.” 189. The best example of this particular dialectic I know is Albert Camus’s charmingly resentful “juge-penitent” Clamence i n La Chute (The Fall). H e confesses his “sins” to others i n such a w a yas t o r e n d e r h i m s e l f beyond any possible criticism, a n d i n d o i n g

so sets himself u p as the moral superior

to

anyone who would listen

to

him—or who

would not (trans. J. O ’ B r i e n (New York: Vintage, 1957).

190. I owe a special debt of gratitude i n this last section t o John Leamons, who w r o t e his seminar paper o n Hegel o n this topic, May 1980 and helped me with m y research.

Chapter Ten

The Secret of Hegel (Kierkegaard’s Complaint): Hegel's Philosophy of Religion N o h u m a n being c a n e v e r h a v e b e e n i n s u c h distress as Christianity o f late .

..

The entire

Christian

terminology h a s been a p p r o p r i a t e d

by

speculative thought t o its o w n purposes . . . T h e concepts h a v e been emasculated a n d the w o r d s h a v e b e e n m a d e t o m e a n a n y t h i n g a n d e v e r y t h i n g . — S g r e n K i e r k e g a a r d , Concluding Unscientific Postscript

The Secret of Hegel.! With that provocative title, James Stirling launched his extravagant pioneering study o f Hegel in English (1865). I t has since been commented, wryly and often, that i t has been a secret well-

kept. But Stirling claimed t o have divined the secret, and m o s t British commentators? claim t o have learned i t with him: Hegel is a Christian, “the greatest abstract thinker o f Christianity”? and the aim o f his difficult works is to “restore o u r faith, Faith in God, faith i n Christianity

as the revealed religion.” The “secret” is that “the universe is but a materialization, externalization, o f the thoughts o f God.”> So would McTaggart argue a t the t u r n of the century,’ and only a few years ago J-N. Findlay held that ( H e g e l ’ s ] w h o l e system m a y i n fact b e r e g a r d e d as a n a t t e m p t t o see

1. J . H . S t i r l i n g , The Secret of Hegel, 2 vols. ( L o n d o n , 1865).

2. But n o t only British commentators: cf. Emile Brehier, in his Histoire de la philosophie; “What is religion for Hegel? I t is essentially Christianity with its dogmas o f the incarnate Word and the remission of sins” (vol. 4, p. 167). See also, Pannenberg i n Hegel Studien (1970) and o f course, B . Croce, Cio che vive e cio che e morto della filosofia di Hegel ( B a r i : Laterza, 1927).

3. Stirling, vol. 1, p. 78. 4. Ibid. 5. Ibid., 85. 6. J.M.E.M. McTaggart, Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1901).

580

The Secret ofHegel

581

t h e C h r i s t i a n mysteries i n e v e r y t h i n g whatever, e v e r y n a t u r a l p r o -

cess, every form o f h u m a n activity, a n d every logical transition.”

For the reader who has troubled t o read through Hegel's two-volume

Science of Logic, or worse, through Stirling’s two-volume Secret, this conclusion m u s t be a bitter disappointment. O n the contrary, Hegel's Christian apologetics would appear t o be one o f the best known “facts”’about h i m , well-known even to those w h o would n o t t h i n k o f

reading him. Hegel took great pains, a t the cost o f great obscurity, t o remind us o f his ultimately religious intentions. The beginning o f the Logic, for example, makes this difficult work all the more so with its

abstruse suggestion that the truth o f logic is nothing other than God. ( “ G o d and G o d only is t h e truth.”®) Similarly, t h e Phenomenology (and

the later Encyclopaedia) is peppered with references t o Divinity in the unlikely places. The sections on “Religion” appear t o have been gratuitously and inappropriately but prestigiously placed a t the penultimate stage o f the dialectic (somewhat like Napoleons mother in most

the chronicles o f t h e coronation). Hegel insisted that h e was a good

Lutheran until his death, and in his lectures, he apparently defended the traditional doctrines o f the Christian faith. One might say that Christianity is as much o f a secret i n Hegel as class conflict is i n Marx. But is Hegel “the greatest abstract thinker o f Christianity”? There is good reason to think otherwise. Let us first consider a n unsolved

puzzle; i n the years 1793-99, Hegel w r o t e but did n o t publish his early manuscripts o n Christianity. Some are virulently anti-Christian, with Nietzschean contempt for the church and its priests, for Christian doctrines and authority. H e even criticizes and parodies Christ himself. These essays have been argued t o be o f great importance for understanding the “mature” Hegel (e.g. b y Dilthey (1905),° Kaufm a n n (1954)19). Yet i t is generally agreed that Hegel underwent a n

abrupt shift i n his attitude toward Christianity about 1800. Even Kaufmann, who has been most responsible for familiarizing English readers with these essays and their import for Hegel's later work, refers t o them as “Hegel's anti-theological phase.” 1 ! But why this abrupt 7. J . N . Findlay, Hegel, p . 130.

8. Logic, sect. 1, p. 3. 9. W. Dilthey, “Hegels Theologische Jugendschriften” (Berlin 1905), edited by Noh! (Tübingen, 1907), t r a n s . T.M. Knox, as Early Theological Manuscripts (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago Press, 1948) (Early Theo. Mss.). 10. W. K a u f m a n n , i n From Shakespeare to Existentialism ( N e w York: D o u b l e d a y / A n chor, 1959), ch. 8 .

11. “Where he had previously condemned Christianity for its irrationality, Hegel later celebrated Christian dogmas as ultimate philosophical truths in religious form. Instead of achieving a crowning synthesis, he unwittingly illustrated his own dialectic by overreacting against the views o f his youth and by going t o the opposite extreme” ( p . 161).

582

Hatching the Highway of Despair

shift? What explains the radical difference between the young and the “mature” Hegel? (“Maturity” signifying, as usual, the more con-

servative position.) The answer I should like t o pose t o this puzzle (and several others) is unusual, for I believe that Hegel really did have a secret, and that it has been well-kept, a t least by most orthodox Hegelians, including Sterling, McTaggart, and Findlay. The secret, abruptly stated, is that Hegel was essentially a n atheist. H i s “Chris-

tianity” is nothing but nominal, an elaborate subterfuge t o protect his professional ambitions in the most religiously conservative country i n Northern Europe. Hegel had seen Spinoza’s Ethics condemned i n Germany. H e had seen Kant, whom he considered t o be unquestioningly orthodox, censured and censored by the narrow-minded regime o f Frederick Wilhelm I I . H e had seen Fichte dismissed from the University a t Jena for views that were (incorrectly) construed as atheistic. Is it only coincidence that the year of Hegel's “great conversion,” 1800, 1s also the beginning o f his professional philosophical career, and that the writing o f the Phenomenology (1806) 1s simultaneously the time o f his first professorship? Hegel may have been a champion o f the Truth, but he knew how t o look o u t for himself. H e may have stuck t o the letter o f Christianity, but in “spirit” he was anything but a Christian. H e was n o t t h e great abstract thinker o f Christianity b u t

rather the precursor o f atheistic humanism in German philosophy. While holding a series o f lucrative and powerful professorships under state auspices and with church approval, Hegel formulated the very doctrines which would soon undermine the Christian world-view, preparing the way for Feuerbach, Marx, Nietzsche, and Freud. But the “secret” was a prudential necessity for Hegel, much as we might think o f Plato burying his Pythagorean formulae in anagrams t o escape the fate o f his illustrious teacher, or o f Descartes, struggling i n double-meanings t o pass church censorship with his Meditations. T h e poet Heinrich Heine, once a student o f Hegel, confessed, I was young and proud, and i t pleased m y vamity when I learned f r o m Hegel t h a t i t w a s n o t t h e d e a r G o d w h o l i v e d i n h e a v e n

that

w a s G o d , as m y grandmother s u p p o s e d , b u t I m y s e l f h e r e o n e a r t h . ! ?

Heine, a Jew and already a n outcast, felt l i t t l e o f t h e usual timidity i n

calling a spade a spade. There is no God, only man. But t o defend that conclusion i n a respectable way, Hegel used religion and religious vocabulary as his instruments, as i f the last logical consequence t o be drawn from Christian doctrine is humanism, and the final meaning to

be given t o theological terminology is a meaning which refers strictly 12. Quoted i n Kaufmann, Hegel, p. 366.

The Secret ofHegel

583

and exclusively t o man’s conception o f himself. I n other words, t o solve our puzzle, there is no change i n Hegel's attitude t o Christianity, only i n his sense o f prudence and his ability to use what h e rejects as

the tool for its own rejection. What he hated i n the early manuscripts, he still despises i n the Phenomenology and his late lectures on Religion. What was false is still false, and what was repulsive t o h i m was

still

repulsive. There is no t u r n from the “young” Hegel t o the “mature” Hegel, except in style. Hegel may have despised Christianity, but he recognized its social power. Heine tells us o f an incident: One beautiful starry-skied evening, we

two

stood n e x t

to

each other

a t a w i n d o w , a n d I , a y o u n g m a n o f a b o u t t w e n t y - t w o w h o h a d just

eaten w e l l a n d had good coffee, enthused about the stars a n d called them the abode o f the blessed. B u t the m a s t e r grumbled t o himself:

“the

stars,

hum! hum! the

stars

are only a gleaming leprosy i n the

sky.” F o r God’s sake, I shouted, then there is n o h a p p y locality u p there t o reward virtue after death? B u t h e , staring a t m e w i t h his pale eyes, said cuttingly: “ S o y o u want to get a t i p for h a v i n g nursed y o u r s i c k m o t h e r a n d for n o t h a v i n g p o i s o n e d y o u r d e a r b r o t h e r ? ” —

Saying that, h e looked a r o u n d anxiously, b u t h e immediately seemed r e a s s u r e d w h e n h e s a w t h a t i t w a s o n l y H e i n r i c h B e e r , w h o h a d ap-

proached h i m t o invite h i m t o play whist.!?

The idea that Hegel was a humanistic atheist was briefly defended after Hegel's death by the “left” Hegelians (e.g. Bauer and Marx), w h o saw him as a subtle subverter o f Christian faith, against the “right”

Hegelians, who took Hegel a t his word as a Lutheran and as a defender o f the faith. But this essentially religious dispute between the “left” a n d the “ r i g h t ” had political overtones, and soon the antago-

nism moved from the theological t o the political arena, where it remains today. The atheistic Hegelians, including the young Marx, were far more concerned with changing the world than haggling with academic theologians. Accordingly, they left Hegel's religious position t o the “right,” who retained domination within the small circle of scholars who cared one way o r another, at least until recently.!* Using He-

gel’s own public declarations, his explicit celebration o f “revealed religion,” and his consistently religious vocabulary, any theologian with a first degree i n pedantry can prove that Hegel was a Christian. What is more difhcult, however, is t o understand just how limited the “religious dimension” o f Hegel's thought really is, how nominal and how 13. Heine, ibid., p. 367. 14. S e e for example, t h e

v a r i e t y o f essays i n D. C h r i s t e n s e n , e d . , Hegel a n d the Philosophy o f Religion (The H a g u e : Nijhoff, 1970). T h e atheistic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n i s s c a r c e l y m e n t i o n e d , m u c h less d e f e n d e d t h e r e . T h e H e g e l i a n “ l e f t ” h a s h a d i t s m o d e r n p r o moters, however, principally i n K o j é v e ’ s l e c t u r e s ( A n I n t r o d u c t i o n to the Reading of Hegel) a n d i n D i e u est m o r t : E t u d e s u r Hegel.

584

Hitching the Highway of Despair

ironic.'® B y the n a t u r e o f the case, o u r thesis can have n o public dec-

larations t o rely upon, and m u s t argue against the explicitly religious doctrines and unquestionably exalted position o f “religion” i n Hegel's dialectic on the basis o f conjecture and indirect evidence. But there are many clues, n o t the least o f which are to b e found i n Hegel’

curious s t a t e m e n t o f those doctrines and his structuring o f those positions. I t is Hegel, before Nietzsche, who tells us (through the “unhappy consciousness)

that

“God Himself Is Dead” (785). I t is a phrase that far

better summarizes Hegel's philosophy of religion than all the abstruse speculation about “the externalization o f thought” and the divinity o f Spirit. I n his early published essay (“Faith and Knowledge”) Hegel invokes the image o f “the Good Friday of speculation,” which replaces the naiveté o f Christianity with “the cheerful freedom o f Godlessness.”!® A n d readers o f the Phenomenology have long been puzzled by its closing imagery, “ T h e Calvary o f absolute Spirit (808).”!7 What is

Calvary other than the death o f God? But where the New Testament Calvary murders a man, returning H i m t o God, Hegel's Calvary mur-

ders God and

returns

him

to

man (763,779,781,785). A bizarre im-

age, i f the Phenomenology were i n fact a religious treatise, b u t a fitting

image for an elaborate and elusive defense of humanism. With a touch o f perversity, Hegel uses the language and imagery o f Christianity t o establish the blasphemous position for which Spinoza was condemned and Fichte fired. I t was as i f a perverse Menshevik had pub-

lished John Locke’s second Treatise using Marxist terminology and the pen name o f Karl Marx, then laughed as pedantic Bolsheviks attempted t o integrate its doctrines with their own. I f there is comedy to Hegel's work, as Jacob Leewenberg!® has so long argued, then surely

i t is here. Hegel’s secret has been well kept. Only a few suspected, particularly an eccentric i n Copenhagen who discovered the secret early o n , b u t found the j o k e not at all amusing.

Hegel's Philosophy o f Religion

Hegel's interest—and his writings—in the philosophy o f religion span his entire career. H e studied theology in Tübingen, and his first known I 5 . E. Fackenheim, The Religious Dimension of Hegel's Philosophy (Bloomington, Ind.: I n d i a n a U n i v . Press, 1967).

16. “Faith and Knowledge” (Glauben und Wissen). See Ch. 3. 17. Hegel: “die Schidelstitte des absoluten Geistes.” Baillie t r a n s . : “Golgotha.” 1 8 . F o r example, i n h i s m u c h - r e a d i n t r o d u c t i o n t o t h e S c r i b n e r Hegel: Selections a n d

i n h i s o w n dialogal b o o k , Hegel's Phenomenology.

The Secret ofHegel

585

writings are the early “theological” (or “anti-theological”) manuscripts

o f the years 1793-99, the years o f his fascination with Kant’s Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft (1793). I n 1802, he published “Faith and Knowledge” i n the second volume o f the journal he edited w i t h Schelling. I n

1807, Phenomenology

appears w i t h “revealed reli-

gion” (“Offenbare Religion”) standing conspicuously a t the end of a long historical “dialectic” o f religious forms. I n his Encyclopaedia, Hegel omits the historical dialectic, mentioning only “revealed religion” (“Die geoffenbarte Religion”), a g a i n a t t h e e n d o f t h e dialectic b u t a d d i n g a

!'? polemical attack o n alternative contemporary religious conceptions.

Finally, there are Hegel's Lectures on Philosophie der Religion, delivered and reworded i n 1821, 1824, 1827, and 1831 (the year o f his

death), collected together by his students.? From the Phenomenology, in fact from “Faith and Knowledge,” until the Philosophy of Religion, the content, structure, a n d strategy o f Hegel's arguments change remarkably little. A n d though the structure and strategy o f argument are surely different i n t h e early manuscripts and the published work,

i t can be argued that the c o n t e n t remains the same. Underlying the polemical “anti-theology” o f the manuscripts o f the 1790s and the alleged rationalization o f Christianity that are to b e found i n the Phe-

nomenology, the Encyclopaedia, and the Philosophy of Religion is a continuity which m u s t n o t be overlooked. We have already seen how the early manuscripts are decidedly anti-

Christian, sometimes viciously so, e.g. “the system o f the church can b e nothing b u t a system o f contempt for h u m a n beings,” which pro-

vides “debasing monuments o f human degradation.”?! This opinion o f the church never varies, b u t the strategy changes. I n his Lectures on

the History of Philosophy, Hegel argues that, i n the Middle Ages thought begins within Christianity, accepting it as absolute presupwhen t h e wings o f t h o u g h t h a v e grown s t r o n g , philosophy rises t o the s u n like a young eagle, a bird o f prey which strikes down religion. B u t i t 1s t h e l a s t d e v e l o p m e n t o f s p e c u l a t i v e position. Later,

t h o u g h t t o do j u s t i c e t o faith a n d m a k e p e a c e w i t h r e l i g i o n . ? ?

Hegel does make peace, but only that peace which emerges after a decisive battle and a devastating victory. Enemies alive are objects of scorn, b u t enemies defeated are n o t only accepted b u t may be safely 19. Encyclopaedia, pp. 564-71. 20. Translated and edited by E.B. Spiers and J. Burdon Sanderson (New York: Humanities Press, 1962), 3 vols. ( F r o m Schulze, Sämtliche Werke, vols. 1 1 a n d 12.) A b b r e viated hereafter: “Philosophy ofReligion.” 21. These comments are from the Positivity—essay and the Tübingen essay, respectively.

22.

Lectures o n the Philosophy o f History, I n t r o d u c t i o n ,

published separately as Reason

i n History, trans. R.S. H a r t m a n n . ( N e w York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953), p . 21.

586

Hitching the Highway of Despair

celebrated i n praise. The Phenomenology constitutes such a thorough victory over the forces o f Christian theology that Hegel can easily afford t o allow its emaciated veterans t o sit a t the foot o f absolute Truth, honoring them only so that he may be seen as merciful as well as victorious. I n the early manuscripts, Hegel had attacked Christianity “from the outside,” from the side o f the Enlightenment (even though Kant, with those same Enlightenment instruments o f intellectual warfare, had served the church without serious complaint). But the church had long weathered such attacks, and the priests were well-fortified against them. I n the Phenomenology, however, Hegel no longer challenges t h e stony walls o f theology, but rather enters these walls as a

gift, offering his philosophy t o the battle-weary theologians. Forty years later we will hear the cry o f Kierkegaard’s Laokoon: I f this effort were to succeed, t h e n w o u l d i t have the ironical fate that precisely o n the day o f its triumph it w o u l d have lost everything a n d entirely q u a s h e d Christianity.?3

I n t h e Phenomenology (and also i n the Encyclopaedia a n d the Lectures),

Hegel argues that the short step from “revealed religion” t o absolute truth consists i n the simple alteration o f form, the c o n t e n t remaining the same; T h e Spirit

o f the revealed

religion

h a s n o t as y e t surmounted

its

consciousness as such. . . . Spirit itself as a whole, a n d the selfmoments within i t , fall within t h e s p h e r e o f p i c t u r e thinking, a n d i n t h e form o f o b j e c t i v i t y . T h e content o f t h i s figurative t h o u g h t is a b s o l u t e Spirit; a n d all t h a t r e m a i n s t o be d o n e is t o

differentiated

supersede [aufheben] this m e r e form, . . . (788)

Faith has t r u e

content;

still lacking i n i t is the form o f t h o u g h t .

And i n his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, Hegel tells us that “Religion and Philosophy have a common object, God in and for Himself,” but that these have different “modes of appropriation.” What are these different modes? Religion occupies itself with images and “picture-thinking” (Vorstellungen)—unsystematized, quasi-empirical spatio-temporal imagery. Philosophy abandons such mythology and restricts itself to what is essential to thought, that 1s, t h e Concept (Be-

griff). Thus the step from “revealed religion” i n Phenomenology (chapter 7) t o “Absolute Knowing” o f chapter 8 is accomplished by “simply” replacing Vorstellungen by Begriffe. T h r o u g h o u t his works, Hegel warns us o f the dangers o f such glib 23. Kierkegaard,

Concluding Unscientific Postscript t r a n s .

Princeton U n i v . Press, 1941) (CUP), p . 326.

24. Philosophy of Religion vol. 111, 148.

W. L o w r i e (Princeton:

The Secret o f Hegel

587

distinctions as “form” versus “content.” Let us be suspicious, there-

fore, o f the glib suggestion that the difference between religion and philosophy is one simply o f form, while their contents are identical. What is the “content” that remains the same?—Absolute Spirit o r God in and for Himself. But Hegel has told us throughout the Phenomenology that Spirit is actual or “ i n and for itself” only when i t has comprehended itself as a Spirit, and that the object or content of consciousness changes with its different forms (or “modes o f appropriation”). The difterence between Spirit as a represented object of awareness and spirit aware o f itself is n o t merely a difference o f form; i t is the most essen-

tial difference o f the Phenomenology, the difference between otherness, alienation, negativity a n d inadequacy, o n the one hand, and ab-

solute harmony and total comprehension on the other. God as object is the fateful disharmony o f the early essays; God as subject is a conception which is o u t o f reach o f orthodox Christianity. So it is clear that this “mere” alteration i n form m u s t be far more than a simple “mere.” The replacement o f religious Vorstellungen with philosophical Begriffe, even while retaining something, is i n fact the rejection of everything significant t o Christianity. What is Christianity, “revealed religion,” divested o f its “picturethought” (787)? I t is a faith w i t h o u t icons, images, stories and myths, without miracles, w i t h o u t a resurrection, without a nativity, w i t h o u t Chartres and Fra Angelico, without wine and wafers, without Heaven

and Hell, without God as judge and without Judgment. With philosophical conceptualization, the Trinity is reduced t o Kant’s categories o f Universality (God the Father), Particularity (Christ the Son), and

Individuality (The Holy Spirit).2* The incarnation no longer refers t o Christ alone, but only t o the philosophical thesis that there is no God other than humanity. Spirit, that is, humanity made absolute, is God. This is i n fact all that 1s left o f religion, the conception o f humanity as God, which is t o say that there is nothing other than humanity. O n e m a y h a v e all s o r t s o f i d e a s a b o u t t h e K i n g d o m o f G o d ; b u t i t 1s always a realm of

Spirit

t o be realized and brought about in m a n . ?

God and incarnation become nothing more than the human community, Original Sin becomes human moral responsibility?” and immortality, Heaven and Hell, are reduced t o nothing more than the survival o f t h e h u m a n Spirit i n others after our individual deaths, a sense i n which any animal is immortal insofar as i t is survived by its 25. See, e.g., Encyclopaedia 567-71. 26. Lectures i n the Philosophy of History, “Reason i n History,” p. 20. 27. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 2, pp. 45—48.

588

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

species.?® What is left after the philosophical conceptualization of religion? To the orthodox Christian, nothing is left, save some terminology which has been emptied o f its traditional significance. From Hegel’s gutted Christianity t o Heine and Nietzsche’s aesthetic atheism is a very short distance indeed. Even McTaggart, who takes such considerable pains t o save Hegel's Christianity for Christendom, is forced t o concede, H e g e l supports

Christianity

against all attacks but

his o w n ,

and

thus

r e v e a l s h i m s e l f as i t s m o s t d e a d l y antagonist.?

And Findlay, who elsewhere remarks that Hegel's exegeses “catch the very spirit and savour o f the New Testament,” finds i t necessary t o say

that Hegel has defined r e l i g i o n . . . i n a m a n n e r to s u i t himself, h i s m a i n motive

being t o s e c u r e for t h e difficult t h e s e s o f his philosophy t h e approval normally accompanying the words “religion” and “religious”. . . . Hegel, i t may be claimed, is stmply “cashing i n ” o n this widespread approval, a n d s e c u r i n g i t s a d v a n t a g e s for h i s o w n system.3°

There is a vital difference, o f course, between mere atheism a n d

irreligion, and i t is t o Hegel's credit t h a t he c o n s t r u c t s a humanist position transcending both. Similarly, there is a difference between n o t being a Christian a n d n o t being religious i n some broader sense. I t m u s t n o t be thought that Hegel was n o t religious because h e was not a Christian. I n fact, his atheism was bolstered b y his religiosity,

the same religiosity that sustained him through the cynicism o f his theological studies a t the Stift, the same striving for übermensch status that characterized Goethe’s Faust and Nietzsche’s Zarathustra. They too might be called “religious” thinkers, but surely there was little that was Christian about them. For Hegel too, “religion” is a n appeal to

what is “above,” but n o t what is better than humanity, rather what is potentially best in humanity: he tells us throughout his writing that “every person brings i n t o the world n o t only the right to a mere ani-

mal existence but also the right h u m a n being.” I t is a position

to

that

develop capacities, t o become a m i g h t have come directly

out

of

Goethe o r Schiller. (Compare Schiller’s remark: “Every individual hum a n being carries w i t h i n himself, as h i s potential a n d h i s destiny, t h e

pure ideal image o f man.”) By “religion” Hegel means a striving for the infinite, n o t t h e “bad infinite” o f endless Faustian dissatisfaction

but the “genuine infinite” o f total comprehension and participation 28. Logic, 11, 24. 29. McTaggart, Studies, p. 251. 30. Findlay, Hegel, p. 131.

The Secret of Hegel

589

in the world. Thus Hegel’s concept o f religion fits squarely into the French Enlightenment o f Voltaire and Rousseau as well as into the German Aufklärung o f Lessing, Herder, and Kant. Religion 1s mankind’s impulse t o a better life. I t is n o t the lust for “otherworldly” after-life o f the Christian Heaven but the “this worldly” aspirations o f great artists, philosophers, statesmen, and truly religious people.

Anticipating Nietzsche, Hegel tells us that religion is a “reconciling Yea” t o the world, n o t an escape from it. Our evidence for this thesis can be summarized by five more-orless distinct considerations, although a thorough defense would have t o examine, in detail and as a whole, the entirety o f the Hegelian corpus. There are: (1) the now well-known anti-Christian diatribes o f

the early unpublished manuscripts; (2) the discussions o f “Religion i n General” i n both the Phenomenology and the Philosophy of Religion; (3) the bewildering configuration o f religious Vorstellungen o f the Phenomenology and the more carefully developed dialectic o f religions o f Hegel’s Philosophy of Religion; (4) the appearance and aufhebung o f Christianity a t least twice i n the early chapters o f the Phenomenology; and (5) the demonstrably irreligious interpretation he gives t o what he calls “revealed religion” (both i n the Phenomenology and i n the later lectures).

THE NATURE OF RELIGION! THE EARLY MANUSCRIPTS

The aim and essence o f all true religion, our religion included, is morality. —Hegel, “ T h e Positivity o f Christianity”

We have already discussed Hegels early “anti-theological” manuscripts in chapter 3. I n his first essay o f 1793 (“Folk Religion and Christianity”), Christian gloom and dogma are contrasted with the communal harmony o f the Greeks. The “excesses o f the bacchanals” are played against Northern “disharmony” and Christian melancholy, and Socrates is juxtaposed favorably against Jesus. The criterion is distinctively Enlightenment—the betterment o f humanity—but the sense 1s Romantic, that familiar sense o f unity and communal belongi n g . I n d e e d , Hegel attacks t h e Enlightenment even as h e uses it, for it too (as we have seen i n chapter 6 o f the Phenomenology) 1s “alienat-

ing.” Hegel attacks knowledge and doctrines i n favor o f communal rituals and practices, and what emerges is a celebration o f a religion which is in every aspect diametrically opposed t o Christianity. He praises

590

Hutching the Highway ofDespair

religion, but n o t the “true” religion—"“subjective religion is pretty much the same i n all human beings.”3! I n 1795 the “Life o f Jesus” essay was Hegel's clumsy attempt t o integrate Jesus and the Enlightenment, interpreting the Sermon o n the Mount as Kant’s Critique ofPractical Reason, more o r less. B u t Jesus here is n o t anyone more than a n ordinary mortal; the theology o f

Christianity is thoroughly jettisoned, and the mysteries and miracles o f that religion are thoroughly discredited (as they had been by Kant too) as anti-thetical t o reason and morality. The Positivity-essay o f the same year pursued this theme more systematically and with more o f a sense o f historical fidelity; b u t t h e criterion is t h e same—that religion serve morality and practical reason—and the conclusion is the same too—that Christianity fails t o d o so. I t is “positive” (authori-

tarian) and antithetical t o rational autonomy; i t is degrading and alienating, and therefore harmful t o our sense o f health and community.3?

I n the “Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate,” in 1799, one discerns a change o f temper, a new sense o f conciliation. Hegel's ambition was to found a new religion m u c h more like Greek folk religion, which h e shared i n the middle o f that decade w i t h Hölderlin and Schelling,

and which he had so awkwardly formulated in his “Life o f Jesus” essay. I n the “Spirit” essay, his efforts are aimed more a t salvaging what is rational and acceptable in Christianity, its “Spirit” instead of its letter.?®> Whether what is left—which mainly revolves around the concept o f “love”—is indeed Christianity is

not

a matter I want to

argue here. But i t is crucial t o note how much is lost—virtually the whole o f Christian theology, the church and even the new theological doctrines o f Kantian practical reason—the doctrines Hegel and his friends had debated i n the Tübingen Stift. What remains is a confidence i n reason a n d t h e emphasis o n unity, and, a few years later, i n

“Faith and Knowledge;” “Reason” is defined by Hegel as the search for unity’>* But “unity”—not only between people but with nature, the law, the state, and ourselves—is n o t the exclusive province o f Christianity. One might refer t o this, as Hegel and his friends did, as “religion,” but religion 1s n o t just Christianity, and the search for unity could be as much the ideal o f the pre-monotheistic philosophy o f Aristotle o r the atheistic thoughts o f Heine, Nietzsche, Camus, and Sartre 31. K a u f m a n n , Hegel, p . 131. 32. Early Theo. Mss., p . 58. 33. I b i d . p p . 182-301.

34. “Faith and Knowledge.”

The Secret o f Hegel

591

as i t was a part o f 19th-century Christian theology. With this in mind, we can finally turn t o the discussion o f religion i n the Phenomenology.

T H E NATURE O F RELIGION I N T H E PHENOMENOLOGY

(AND L A T E R

WORKS)

The self-knowing spirit is, i n religion, immediately its own selfconsciousness. (677)

What is immediately striking about Hegel's introduction t o “Religion” i n t h e Phenomenology (672-83) i s that there is n o t a s i n g l e m e n t i o n o f “God” o r “Divinity” o r even “Sacred” but only the familiar terms “Spirit,” “Self-Consciousness,” “Reason,” a n d “absolute Being,” terms

which apply just as well t o non-theistic religions and non-religious metaphysics. Hegel surprisingly informs us that we have been tracing the various forms o f religious consciousness throughout the Phenomenology, i n the chapter o n “Understanding,” i n the “Unhappy Consciousness” o f medieval Christianity, o f course, i n our investigation o f

“Reason” and throughout the chapter on “Spirit.” “Religion,” we now come to see, 1s nothing other than that search for all-comprehensive

unity that has driven the Phenomenology from its Introduction onward, t h e motivating force behind almost all o f the various forms o f consciousness, whether they (or we) recognized this o r not. Accord-

ingly, Fackenheim tells us, “Religion may be one o f the forms o f spiritual life, but i t is also the basis and the condition o f the possibility o f 3? the system in its entirety.” What sense o f “religion” would include not only Greek folk-religion (in Antigone, for instance) and “ t h e Unhappy [Christian] Conscious-

ness” but “Understanding” (673) and “Enlightenment” (675) as well? I t 1s the recognition o f a supersensible infinity, I n some sense “be-

yond” the immediate finitude o f everyday life.3¢ Thus “Understanding” recognizes the “supersensible or the inner side o f objective exis35. Emil Fackenheim, The Religious Dimension of Hegel's Philosophy. I t is Fackenheim, most recently, who might serve as our dialectical complement i n this chapter (along with McTaggart, Sterling et al.). I n his illuminating book, he stresses Hegel's religious w a n t t o de-emphasize them. H e derides the “idolizers o f the early writings,” thus eliminating the first o f o u r arguments, o n the grounds that one should n o t t r u s t unpublished manuscripts (p. 156). B u t i f o u r suspicions are c o r r e c t about

athnides, while I

Hegel's c o v e r t anti-theology, we should t r u s t imprudent unpublished assertions a t least as much as we trust his published works. 36. This question o f m a n as capable o f the infinite is one o f the main themes Hegel

borrowed directly from Schelling, whose religious sensibilities were never so much i n question. This allows Hegel, however,

to

make impressive claims against Kant et al. and

592

Hitching the Highway of Despair

this is “devoid o f self” a n d t h u s “ a l o n g way from being Spirit” (673). I f we take Kant t o exemplify this “form of contence” (673), b u t

sciousness,” we can think o f that “ u n k n o w n x ” o r “noumenon” which

lies behind (or “within”) the objects o f the understanding, the “thingin-utself” which later appears, i n Kant’s theory o f “Practical Reason” and religion, as the c o n t e n t o f morality and religious faith.3” “Unhappy Consciousness” is quite explicitly aware o f a “beyond o f selfconsciousness” as well as its o w n “changeless essence,” b u t i t is pure “pain o f spirit,” which has n o t yet come t o see its ordinary self-

consciousness and this infinite “beyond” as a harmonious and happy unity (Ibid.). “Reason,” however, “has n o particular religion”, because

it is so caught u p i n “the immediate present”, whether i n the “observing reason” o f scientific curiosity o r the “rational self-realization” o f the search for the good life in pleasure or virtue (Ibid.). And yet, though “Reason” has no religious forms as such, “Spirit” does, even the godless Enlightenment, which, Hegel charges, recognizes the infinite ( o f “Understanding”) b u t ignores i t , remaining “satisfied i n this world” (675). This is a curious charge, to b e sure, b u t not

entirely original. Hegel had used it before, i n “Faith and Knowledge,” seemingly for religion—for example, i n the following sarcastic passage from “Faith and — Knowledge” The fixed standpoint which the all-powerful culture o f our time has established for philosophy is t h a t o f a Reason affected by sensibility. I n this situation philosophy c a n n o t aim a t the cognition o f God, but only a t what is called the cognition o f man. This so-called man and his humanity conceived as a rigidly, insuperably finite s o r t o f Reason form philosophy’ absolute standpoint. Man is n o t a glowing spark o f eternal beauty, or a spiritual focus o f the universe, but an absolute sensibility. H e does, however, have the faculty o f faith so that he can touch himself u p here and there with a spot o f alien supersensuousness. I t is as i f a r t , considered simply as portraiture, were t o express its ideal aspect through the longing i t depicts on an ordinary face and the melancholy smile o f the mouth, while it was strictly forbidden t o represent the gods i n their exaltation above longing and sorrow, on the grounds t h a t the presentation o f eternal images would only be possible a t the expense o f humanity. Similarly philosophy is n o t supposed t o present the Idea o f man, but the abstract concept o f an empirical mankind all tangled u p i n limitations, and t o s t a y immovably impaled on the stake o f the absolute antithesis; and when i t gets clear about its restriction t o the sensuous—either analyzing its own abstraction or entirely abandoning i t i n the fashion o f the sentimental bel esprit—philosophy is supposed 1 0 prettify itself with the surface colour o f the supersensuous by pointing, i n faith, t o something higher ( p . 65).

B u t “the cognition o f m a n ” is ambiguous between men’s knowledge and knowledge about m a n , and so too is the “something h i g h e r ” ambiguous between something more

than man and man himself (and his philosophy) as “higher.” The language o f “the gods,” o f course, is poetry and obfuscation, and the upshot o f the passage—and the

essay—is that knowledge itself is infinite and of the infinite. But nothing much follows about the divine s t a t u r e o f that infinity, unless “divine” means simply “holistic.” 37. T h i s was Hegel's charge against Kant, Fichte, and Jacobi i n “Faith and K n o w ! edge.” H e says, for example: The idealism o f which these philosophies are capable is an idealism o f the finite; n o t i n the sense t h a t the finite is nothing i n them, but i n the sense that the finite is received into ideal form: they posit finite ideality, i.e., the pure concept, as infinity absolutely opposed t o finitude, together with the finite that is real and they posit both equally absolutely. ( I n its subjective dimension, that is, i n Jacobi’s philosophy, this idealism can only have the form o f scepticism, and n o t even o f t r u e s c e p t i c i s m , because Jacobi t u r n s pure thinking into something merely subjective, whereas i d e a l i s m consists i n t h e assertion that p u r e t h i n k i n g is objective thinking.)

(p- 64).

The Secret o f Hegel

593

and half o f the undergraduates in philosophy have used i t a t one time o r another. I t i s t h a t perverse t w i s t o f argument t h a t informs t h e athe-

ist, much to his o r her surprise, that atheism is itself a religious belief,

since (in the paradoxical formulation of Tom Stoppard??), there must b e a G o d for o n e to refuse to believe i n . I n other words, i t is enough t o be religious, i f n o t honestly and adequately so, simply by having a concept o f the infinite beyond everyday experience. I t may b e “an

empty beyond,” but i t is still a “beyond,” and this is enough for religion i n general.“

Religion, i n short, is nothing but the recognition of the infinite, and true religion, accordingly, is the recognition o f this infinity as oneself. Thus Hegel accuses even “ t h e religion o f morality” (i.e. Kant’s “Practical Reason” and Hegels own early attempts t o reduce religion t o

morality) o f being “bound u p with the negativity o f the Enlightenment,” that is, trying t o deny the validity o f the religious as such and reducing i t instead to some function o f the finite, for example, as

“postulates o f Practical Reason” i n Kant (676). Indeed, the problem all along has been that same division o f the finite (ordinary, everyday experience) and the infinite, which always escapes us. This was the

problem Hegel announced i n “Faith and Knowledge” and turned against Kant, Jacobi, a n d Fichte. A n d now, in the Phenomenology, i t is

about t o be corrected. “Religion” proper is “Spirit knowing itself as Spirit” (677), and the wholesale rejection o f this distinction between finite self and finite objects o f knowledge and activity, o n t h e o n e side, and infinite “beyond” o n the other. B u t n o t even “religion” actually

succeeds a t this, Hegel tells us, for throughout its long history i t has always tended t o see itself in only part of our existence, in other words, in certain religious objects o r persons (678). For Hegel, “religion” must

encompass everything and here, again, we recognize that grand image o f the universal “Spirit” that Hölderlin had formulated back i n Tübingen. The religious is n o t a special realm o f objects o r concerns but the holistic consciousness o f everything in life. Against Holderlin’s poetic image and the whole o f Christianity, Hegel also insists that this holistic consciousness cannot be mere “picture-thinking” (Vorstellungen). I t c a n n o t remain an “image”. I t m u s t be the “concept” (Begriff) 38. Tom Stoppard, Jumpers (New York: Grove Press, 1972). 39. Here, of course, we should remind ourselves again of Hegel's classic pre-Kantorian distinction between t w o senses o f “infinite,” the spurious infinite o f “beyond” (that is, an endless sequence) and the “genuine infinite” o f self-containment. Although

the distinction is n o t made here i n the PG i t is clear that Hegel rejects virtually all religious thinking as the former, while preparing t o defend his own conceptual formulation o f the Absolute as the latter. Religion looks for infinity i n “beyond”; Hegel finds i t i n self-enclosed Oneness (Logic, 94ff: on Spinoza and, p. 322n.).

594

Hitching the Highway of Despair

o f the whole, and this is what religion has never given us (ibid.). A t most, religion has been a movement ( i n fact, t h e entire movement

traced in the Phenomenology) toward this realization ( 6 7 9 - 8 0 ) . Goethe's Faust was warned against saying to the moment, “Stay, thou art so fair!” This was n o t because the Devil had any fear that Faust would b e satisfied; h e knew that striving is the very soul o f

human consciousness. I t does n o t matter whether this “striving” takes o n a secular o r a particularly Christian content; the striving is essen-

tial t o every form o f consciousness, and this is what Hegel calls “religion” ( 6 8 0 - 8 1 ) . I t need not concern a sense o f mystery o r the frustration o f never seeing o r understanding the goal. I t certainly need not

be the striving toward some external salvation and judgment. I t

is rather, Hegel tells us, “ t h e completion o f the life o f the Spirit,” the

recognition o f its holistic unity. Religion is that sense o f striving for unity which, i n his early writings, Hegel had said was the very antithesis o f Christianity. Indeed it is as i f every form o f consciousness is religious, and so what Hegel calls “revealed religion,” terminology aside, resembles Aristotle’s metaphysics far more than i t does the theology o f the Christian church. The Phenomenology provides us with much too little by way o f a general account o f religion. Under pressure t o complete the manuscript, Hegel evidently hurried o n to the religious dialectic itself,

embedding the general analysis o f religion and the criteria according t o which religions can be evaluated within this dialectic. The Encyclopaedia is also o f little help. The brief section on “Absolute Spirit” includes n o religious dialectic and simply repeats, in encapsulated form,

the principles which were anticipated i n the early manuscripts: Religion . . . issuing from the subject and having its home i n the subject, m u s t no less be regarded as objectively issuing from the absolute Spirit which as Spirit is i n its community.*!

and, more succinctly, “God m u s t be apprehended as Spirit i n his community.” 4 2 Fortunately, Hegel's lectures on the Philosophy of Religion contain a laudable account o f his conception of religion i n general, employing the same terminology a n d maintaining the same general theses as the

Phenomenology.*®> We might also say that the lectures maintain the same ( in considerable detail) for its “pic40. Thus even “Revealed Religion” is criticized t u r e - t h i n k i n g ” a n d for its f a i l u r e t o recognize itself, r a t h e r t h a n the object of its worship,

as “absolute being-for-self” (787). 4 1 . Encyclopaedia, 5 5 4 .

42. 1bid. 43. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 1, p p . 8 9 - 2 5 8 ; P G , 6 7 2 - 6 8 3 .

The Secret o f Hegel

595

general theses as the earliest manuscript o n “Folk-Religion,” except,

of course, that Christianity is treated far more respectfully—or should we say, prudently. What is o f first importance i n religion is feeling (Gefühl), a feeling of awe, of worship, of respect for something greater than ourselves, a feeling o f dependence and subordination. But this “something greater than ourselves” c a n n o t be something wholly other than ourselves, except at cost o f the alienation that Hegel rejected in

the “Spirit o f Christianity” We may quickly summarize Hegel's religious dialectic i n a sentence: the closer a religon comes t o recognizing

the ultimate religious object as Spirit, the higher i t is placed on Hegel’s ladder. Christianity is salvaged by a sleight o f hand, since Christianity approaches the conception of Spirit by maintaining t h a t at least one historical h u m a n being is identical with God. That is o n e more than other religions (not counting the less celebrated because so much more transient roles played b y the vartous Greek, Roman, and Norse

gods and goddesses, who were fond o f taking mortal shapes and intruding into the way o f the world). Thus Hegel attempts t o pull off the m o s t tenuous, i f n o t outrageous, transition i n his philosophy.

Hegel's concept o f “feeling,” which he borrows from Kant’s third Critique, 1s worth considering i n some detail, n o t only for its importance i n his philosophy o f religion, but for its anticipation o f certain contemporary issues as well. Hegel's “feeling” is emphatically not merely

“subjective” but necessarily takes an object and an objective content. Hegel insists (with Kant) that this notion of feeling overcomes the distinction between “subjective” and “objective.” Seventy years later, Franz Brentano (who disliked both Kant and Hegel) and then Husserl (who despised Hegel) would introduce a similar concept o f “intentionality.” B u t here i n Hegel is the explicit rejection o f his old, simple-minded distinction o f the first manuscript, yet based on an appeal t o its central tenet, the primacy o f feeling over theology.** Religion begins with feeling, but feeling is n o t sufficient. Against the dominant Romantic theology o f the time, Hegel insisted that feeling be bolstered by thought, and that the object o f feeling could n o t remain an indeterminate something or other. “Religious feeling becomes yearning hypocrisy.” (Against Schleiermacher’s msistence upon the sufficiency o f feelings o f dependency for religion, Hegel commented that “a dog would then make the best Christian.”) The object o f religious feeling m u s t be represented, by an image, an icon, an idea. But the objects o f religious worship are infinite, while images and 44. See ch. 3 , “ F r e e d o m , F e e l i n g a n d Folk-Religion.” Harris, Hegel's Development, pp. 481-507. 45. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 1, p . 50.

596

Hitching the Highway of Despair

icons are finite. (Ideas, that is, concepts, need not b e finite, and so

ultimately are the best vehicles o f the Absolute.) But the tension between infinite object and finite representative symbol requires resolution. “Unhappy Consciousness,” is precisely the attempt t o resolve this tension i n the realm o f thought alone. But what is required (and here we r e t u r n t o the Greeks) 1s n o t thought but practice, n o t theology b u t ritual. Where the unhappy consciousness resigns itself t o the impossibility of unity (Cf. Kierkegaard’ “knight of resignation”), folkreligion resolves the tension through action. Thus Hegel introduces the third essential component o f religion, “the cult’—the same folkelement that appeared i n the first essay. This tripartite conception o f religion as feeling, representation, and cult constitutes faith i n gen-

eral. Where Kant rationalizes faith as a postulate o f practical reason, Hegel makes faith a m a t t e r o f community spirit. Faith is a shared feeling for the symbolically represented infinite. I n transcending religion for philosophy, Hegel retains feeling and community, but gives up representation. This means giving u p image and icon i n favor o f the idea, and so means giving u p art i n general

as a vehicle o f absolute Spirit.#® Representation served as a vehicle for the religious only until philosophy found its strength. That is, until the mass o f m e n were sufficiently intelligent t o understand the bold

humanism o f Hegel's philosophy and reject the old mythology. But they are still n o t ready, Hegel finds (like Nietzsche's despairing madm a n o f The Gay Science).*” I n the essay o n “Positivity,” Hegel repeatedly insists t h a t Jesus’ reliance o n miracles and magic was justified by

the conceptual opacity o f his audience.®® I n the Phenomenology too, there are frequent musings t o the effect that m e n i n general are per-

haps n o t yet ready for “science,” and even i n the Philosophy ofReligion, there are repeated warnings that “Man in general c a n n o t grasp the idea . . . H e needs to see it.” Thus religion is a primitive groping to-

ward philosophy, a view o f the Absolute through finite symbols. I t is an approach t o philosophy, but falls as short o f its subject m a t t e r as the stories timid parents tell their inquisitive children. Religion earns its high place i n Hegel's dialectic only because i t encompasses all other forms o f consciousness and is essentially community spirit and the collective effort t o comprehend the whole. Religious feeling has been driving the dialectic from the first; religious representation, we n o w

find, is nothing other than that variety o f inferior attempts t o grasp the Absolute which we have followed through the Phenomenology. Re46. Thus, Hegel parts company with Schelling and the Romantics once again. I t is

worth noting, however, that a r t plays virtually n o role whatever i n this all-encompassing p a n o r a m a o f h u m a n experience. F o r the reason, see “ S p i r i t as Artist,” i n this chapter. 47. Nietzsche, Gay Science, t r a n s . W. K a u f m a n n ( N e w York: R a n d o m House, 1972). 48. Early Theo. Mss., p . 78f.

The Secret o fHegel

597

ligion earns its h i g h status, therefore, n o t o n the basis o f feeling o r

Vorstellung, but on the basis o f cult. I n “Spirit,” we have earned our sense o f community, but our communities are still individual a n d separated nations a n d states, at odds w i t h each other, sometimes at war with each other. Here is religion’s

ultimate contribution t o human consciousness—religion teaches us universal Spirit, that is, the human community, unlimited by geographical boundaries or epochs o f history. Here 1s the culmination o f the movement from the clash o f egos i n the Master-Slave conflict t o the harmomous community and nation-state o f Spirit. But if anything, “the slaughter bench o f history” has been caused by religious disputes. Thus Hegel’s exaltation o f religion is distinctly opposed t o any particular religion, and it is as antithetical as possible toward those which would designate themselves “chosen people” or “the Way” or “the Righteous” The point o f religion 1s precisely t o teach us that there are no special privileges i n Spirit, that humamty is One.

The Dialectic ofReligions The genesis o f religion in general is contained i n the movement o f the universal moments. B u t since each o f these attributes was exhibited, not merely as i t determines itself i n general, b u t as i t is i n and for itself, i.e. as i t runs its course as a totality within itself, therefore, what has come to b e is not merely the genesis o f religion in general:

those complete processes o f the individual aspects a t the same time contain the specific forms o f religion itself. (Phenomenology, 680)

I t is no surprise that the chapter o f the Phenomenology on “Religion” 1s dialectical, that is, progressive or developmental i n form. We should be surprised a t the scope o f this dialectic, however. I t does n o t begin a t the end o f the preceding chapter and build upon it: rather, this progression immediately r e t u r n s t o the beginning o f the Phenomenology a n d reconstrues the entirety o f the book as a series o f religious

forms. Moreover, the particular entries i n this progression ought t o disturb us. Each o f them is an ancient religion, sometimes grossly mischaracterized, and conveniently stuffed into a dialectical pigeonhole. A moment’ reflection, however, coupled with a reading o f the Introduction t o the Philosophy of Religion (esp. “The Relation o f the Philosophy o f Religion t o Its Presuppositions and t o the Principles o f the T i m e *”%) shows that this is not merely a play-off of historical forms 49. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 1, pp. 6-48.

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

598

a t all, but that each has a contemporary c o u n t e r p a r t . Thus i t is

ım-

portant to keep i n m i n d the religious polemics i n which Hegel was

involved a t the time: Enlightenment “deism,” Romanucism and intuitionism, the glorification of God as an Arust (Schelling, for example), scientific atheism (e.g. LaPlace’s rejection o f God as “an unnecessary hypothesis”), the K a n t i a n characterization o f religion i n

terms

o f mo-

rality and practical reason. Moreover, the dialectic o f the Phenomenology 1s essentially repeated i n the Philosophy of Religion. The religious dialectic o f the Phenomenology appears i n t w o diftere n t yet parallel forms. First, there is the dialectic o f t h e Phenomenology as a whole, viewed as a (non-temporal) progression o f religious forms o f consciousness. Hegel reviews these i n “Religion” (677-82). Second,

there is the actual dialectic of chapter 7, which may be cautiously mapped o n t o the later lectures that make u p t h e Philosophy ofReligion. Hegel has already picked o u t for us the key “religious” forms of the Phenomenology so far—“Understanding,” “Unhappy Consciousness,” the whole of “Spirit” but especially Greek folk-religion and “the religion o f morality,” which is readily identifiable as the theology of practical reason o f Kant (and Fichte), which Hegel had learned a t the Stift.3° I n the dialectic o f religious forms that occupies the bulk o f Chapter 7, however, Hegel does n o t limit himself t o these but treats virtually every “form o f consciousness” so far discussed as a possible religious form, albeit i n “an arrangement t h a t differs from the way they appeared i n their own order” (681). This v a s t array o f possible forms is basically reduced t o a general triad, albeit n o t exactly “thesisantthesis-synthesis”; there is, first o f all, immediate o r “natural” reli-

gion, which looks for its sacred forms i n objects outside itself. Then there is religion “ o f the self,” or “the Religion o f Art,” which “raises itself t o the form o f the self through the creative acuvity o f consciousness whereby this beholds i n its object its a c t or the self” (683). This is virtually always interpreted by commentators as Greek anthropomorphic religion, but it also contains n o small a m o u n t of Schelling and Schiller. Finally, there is “the unity o f both” as “Revealed Religion,” which is “ t h e

needs only

to

true

form” (Gestalt, “shape”) o f religion, which

be made into philosophy. The three categories clearly

fit the “Consciousness; Self-Consciousness; Reason” divisions o f the

Phenomenology, and they also fit exactly the divisions o f the later Philosophy of Religion: “The Religion o f Nature,” “The Spiritual Work o f Art,” and “Revealed Religion.” But the dominant inspiration o f this dialectic, however different its forms, is t h e Bildungsreligion of Gott5 0 . See Harris, e s p . p p . 5 7 - 1 5 3 .

The Secret of Hegel

599

hold Lessing, for it was he who had argued that the various religions could be seen as a logical progression o f realizations o f the Absolute,

i n varying stages o f inadequacy.’! The very idea of a dialectic o f religions deserves some comment, and Hegel provides us with one i n his introduction t o “Natural Reli-

gion” (684). H e says, The series o f different religions which will come into view, just as much sets forth again only the different forms of a single religion, a n d , moreover, o f every single religion, and the ideas w h i c h seem to

distinguish one actual religion from another occur in each one. A t the same time, however, the difference must also be viewed as a difference o f religion. (Ibid.)

The problem here is a paradox that virtually defined the Enlightenm e n t concern w i t h religion, though Hegel does n o t talk about i t mn

chapter 6 (where i t is the French Enlightenment that is mainly considered). The problem exercised Lessing especially, and 1t 1s this: i f one insists that “there are n o religions, but only religion,” that all the par-

ticular religions—whatever the differences i n their imagery and theology—are actually but different approaches t o one and the same subject, “ t h e sacred” o r “the infinite” o r “God,” then one cannot be-

lieve that one’s own religion is the “true” religion. O n the other hand, i f a believer does believe i n the absolute truth o f his own religion,

then he c a n n o t also accept the co-validity of other religions.>2 That is, one needs t o show that n o t only the content b u t the forms o f these various religions can somehow be brought together. I n a sense, this is

what Hegel (following Lessing) is doing; but i n another sense, he cirthe problem by rejecting religion i n favor of philosophy, which dispenses with religious forms altogether.

cumvents

NATURAL R E L I G I O N : THE RELIGION O F LIGHT

T h e first form o f religion considered, Das Lichtwesen, “ t h e pure, all-

embracing and all-pervading essential light of sunrise, which preserves itself in its formless substantiality” (686), is explicitly paired with “Sense-

Certainty.” (Thus “Understanding” is not, as announced, the first form o f religion t o be considered.) The God of this form is “pure being,” but also “the many-named One,” “clothed with the manifold powers yy

Le

5 1 . O n Lessing’s Education [Erziehung] o f Mankind, see H a r r i s , Hegel's Development,

p p . 99, 157. Lessing's three stages were the Old Testament, the New Testament, and a n e w “ e n l i g h t e n e d ” religion.

52. See Fackenheim for a good discussion o f this; pp. 126, 162.

600

Hiütching the Highway o f Despair

of existence and with the ‘shapes’ of reality as with an adornment that lacks a self . . .” (687). These “shapes” are “merely messengers, having n o will o f their o w n , messengers o f its might, visions o f its glory, voices

i n its praise” (687). “Its otherness,” Hegel tells us, “is equally simple negative, darkness” (686).

What is this “religion of Light”? I n the Philosophy ofReligion, Hegel identifies i t historically with Zoroastrianism.?® Yet i t is also necessary t o wonder whether or n o t it applies more importantly t o Judaism, which Hegel does n o t discuss a t all i n the Phenomenology, but which receives extended attention i n the later lectures.’* A n d , more immediately, we should n o t prevent ourselves from noticing the essential

similarity between this “sense-certainty” religion of light with its formless and indeterminate God and the claims of Jacobi and the intuitionists. I n our discussion of “Sense-Certainty,” we pointed o u t that this form of consciousness was n o t only t o be construed as empiricist epistemology but as a form which included all forms of intuitionism, religious intuitionism as well. Thus i t would not be far-fetched, and would certainly bring this religious dialectic back into the 19th century and avoid o u r “temporalizing” o r “historicizing” it, if we were to take this Lichtwesen as an allegorical presentation o f one mode o f

religious theory which Hegel was particularly anxious this time.

to

refute

at

PLANT A N D ANIMAL WORSHIP

The second form considered, n o t surprisingly, 1s exphcitly inked t o Perception (Wahrnemung), with its religious forms rendered determin a t e through various c r e a t u r e s of the earth. Like its epistemological counterpart, this form of religion finds itself i n an uncomfortable position o f being unable t o see its diverse forms as a unity. I t is worth noting that this form, tailor-made for the dialectic o f the Phenomenol-

ogy, does n o t appear i n the Philosophy of Religion. I t 1s also worth noting that the dialectic of the later lectures does n o t begin with the religion of light, which appears only in the third section of “The Religion of Nature.” Preceding i t are discussions of “immediate religions,” cults of magic, and then Chinese and other religions which are “conscious of a Substantial Power, . . . and of the powerlessness of the immediate w i l l . ” Hegel explicitly designates Chinese religion as a form of 53. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 2, pp. 70-82, esp. 77f. 54. Ibid., pp. 170-219. 55. I b i d . vol. 1, p . 317.

The Secret of Hegel

601

“pantheism,” and here i n the Phenomenology i t is clear that “plant and anımal” religion is a form o f pantheism (the view that God is t o be found i n everything, o r that every creature 1s sacred). I n The Philosophy of Religion Hegel seems t o ascribe pantheism t o virtually all o f Eastern religion (as much as he knew o f it). Indian religion too is treated as “an abstract unity more nearly akin t o Spirit” * ¢ and Buddhism is mentioned as “the c o n c r e t e embodiment o f this unity living i n one individual.”57 B u t i n the Phenomenology, h e refers to this “ p l a n t

and animal” pantheism as “impotent” (694). I n the later lectures, when Hegel is n o longer concerned with an

the Phenomenology, the religion o f light (which is there also referred t o as the “religion o f the Good,” bringing i t closer t o historical Zoroastrianism) is succeeded by “the Syrian religion o f Pain” and religions o f “Mystery.” The differences between the books make us wonder just how much the religions o f the Phenomenology are forced into the shape of the preceding dialectic without regard for historical accuracy o r their conceptual relationship t o each exact mapping o f religion o n t o

other, free from extraneous “architectonic” considerations. I f there is

any section o f the Phenomenology against which the charge o f “arbitrariness” ( o r manipulativeness) may be levied, i t is this section o n

religion.

THE TASKMASTER (“ARTIFICER”)

It

is a t this point t h a t a religious form comparable t o “Understanding”

appears, a n d once again, we are tempted

to

accuse Hegel o f squeez-

ing i n historical forms for the convenience o f his chapter, rather than “letting the concepts develop themselves” as h e insisted i n the Pref-

ace. This new religion is entitled “the Taskmaster” (die Werkmeuster) who enjoys producing “pyramids and obelisks” (692). Here is the beginning o f art-religion, the expression o f Spirit i n material images. I t is the difference between this attempted expression of t h e Absolute in images and the impossibility o f such expression o f the formless God o f das Lichtwesen t h a t adds t o the possibility that, historical order aside, the m o s t significant historical interpretation of that first section is Judaism, which i n fact proscribed artistic representation of God. I t is a transition o f considerable interest—but n o t for us here—as this ancient art-religion of Old Kingdom and Middle Kingdom Egypt turns 56. I b i d . , p . 318. 57. Ibid., p . 320.

602

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

increasingly anthropomorphic images and “statues in human shape” but which do n o t speak (697).>® Hegel is obviously fascinated by hieroglyphics, which were just being translated by Napoleon's archaeologists after he found the Rosetta Stone i n 1799. (The three lanto

guages were Greek, hieroglyphics, and a simpler, reduced, demotic

writing.) Hieroglyphic representations were for the

most

part picto-

rial, and the demotic inscriptions were already a move toward a n al-

phabet and possibility of conceptual thought, o r as Hegel puts it, “the hieroglyph o f another meaning, o f a thought” (695). H e comments o n the general integration o f more primitive plant and ammal forms into “more rigid a n d umversal forms o f thought” (694) a n d credits

the Egyptians, i n particular, with the attempt t o overcome t h e dual1sm between mind and body (an odd claim, since that distinction was hardly apparent even i n t h e Greeks, and more than a few philosophers have claimed that its origins are only i n the 17th century). B u t , i n any case, this religion o f the “taskmaster” creates its sacred

images through a r t instead o f simply finding them growing and running around i n the woods, and this, i n Hegel's anthropomorphic view, 1s a grand conceptual advance. The sacred object is no longer something found b u t something made b y us, and from this, it 1s a short step to the realization that one is oneself sacred, n o t only as object o r

object-maker but, more essentially, as subject. But, i f we are t o keep our parallel with the r e s t of the Phenomenology, how is “the taskmaster” t o be understood with reference t o the chapter on “Force and Understanding”? I think the answer is t h a t the object so interpreted is but a n “outer shape” which contains i n its

possession “an inner being” (696). Just as a scientific theory is constituted by us ın order t o discover (but i n fact postulating) an inner “force” i n the phenomena o f n a t u r e , the “taskmaster” builds a pyramid t o hold the soul of the Pharaoh, or creates a holy object t o contain the soul o f a god. Hegel's reference t o “the black formless stone” is significant. Miller interprets this as the Black Stone o f Kaaba (696n.)

but the practice of worshipping stones 1s an extremely general practice t o be found i n many primitive religions, i n ancient Greece and Rome as well as i n Islam.%® ( T h e Kaaba Stone was i n fact a meteorite,

which was naturally taken

to

be a gift from Heaven. I t is also a part

58. Hegel is n o t just referring t o the general fact that s t a t u e s d o n o t speak; he is referring specifically t o the Sphinx, whose silence plays a special role i n ancient Greek

mythology, i n Oedipus i n particular. 59. E.g., Gilbert Ryle i n his Concept ofMind (London: Routledge, Kegan Paul, 1949) a n d R i c h a r d Rorty, Philosophy and the Mirror of M i n d (Princeton: Princeton Univ. Press,

1980). 60. J o h n B . Noss, Man's Religions (New York: Macmillan, 1956), p . 20.

The Secret of Hegel

603

o f Jewish mythology, however; i t was Abraham who found the s t o n e and the legend takes i t back t o Adam.)®! I n worshipping stones, the distinction between the o u t e r lifeless form and the inner spirit 1s far m o r e obvious than i n the worship o f plants a n d animals, a n d i t is i n

this distinction t o o that the effort t o “unite the t w o

moments

o f Spirit”

(697) m u s t be understood. T h i s resembles i n its basic form, a t least,

precisely what we found i n the chapter o n “Force and Understanding”—our own (conceptual) activities creating the distinction between inner and outer, postulating the inner, and t h e n finding ourselves without an adequate conception of either the inner supersensible force or

the

role o f o u r o w n contribution.

is clear t h a t the section on “ t h e Taskmaster” 1s n o t intended t o include only a single religion, although the religion o f the ancient Egyptians is surely i n evidence there. But Islam also seems t o be inIt

cluded and so t o o any number o f religions which worship things o r

idols of any kind and any size, and this would include Christian icon and relic worship just as much as the spectacular colossi created by t h e Pharaohs. Just as the first section on “light-religion” might m o s t helpfully be interpreted t o include an entire range o f religions whose God 1s some Heavenly cosmic force—including Zoroastrianism and Judaism, and as “plant a n d animal” religion should be interpreted as including a n entire range o f religions whose objects are living crea-

all living creatures—this section includes all o f those religions (notably excluding Judaism i n particular) which worship idols o f their own making. Spirit is t o be found i n a r t , but this is n o t y e t Spirit as Artist, in which i t is the creative activity itself, rather than its lifeless object, which becomes the focus of religious enthusiasm. The progression from the religion o f light (Zoroastrianism) t o the worship o f plants and animals (Eastern pantheism) t o the worship of man-made idols and then Greek art-religion has, as anticipated, a second kind o f interpretation. Through t h e language darkly one can tures—or

envision a s e t o f forms more modern than the ancient religions; “light-

religion” includes strong indications o f a reference t o modern Judaism as well as t o Romantic intuitionism. The attack o n pantheism is surely n o t confined t o the ancient Eastern versions, and i n the Encyclopaedia, Hegel advances precisely t h e same arguments against Hinduism and, one surmises, against all those modern pantheisms derived from Spinoza. The rejection of the “taskmaster” and art-religion t o o is surely n o t t o be wholly dissociated from Schelling’s philosophy 6 1 . I b i d . 6 8 8 . I n t h e c o n t e x t h e r e , however, i t m a y n o t b e insignificant t h a t t h e

Rosetta stone, j u s t a l l u d e d t o , is also, i n its general shape, a “ b l a c k formless stone.” ( I t n o w resides i n t h e British Museum.)

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

604

of a r t and religion, and Hegel’s reconsideration o f Greek religion 1s surely connected t o his and Hélderlin’s own prior enthusiasm. The rejection of that “Reason” which has no religious significance surely includes Deism, that heretical reduction o f G o d t o a hypothesis o f

physics, which Hegel had studied and rejected i n school, and the chapter as a whole, written with its intentional vagueness, can be read

as a survey and dismissal o f contemporary rather than ancient religious views. O f course, as always, H e g e l is concerned w i t h conceptual

forms, and it 1s n o t t o be supposed t h a t any o n e religion will fit into a single form precisely. ( Judaism, for example, has elements o f “lightreligion,” but it is surely partially contained ın “revealed religion” too.) I n turning t o “art-religion” and the Greeks, it will be particularly important t o keep i n mind Schelling and Hélderlin, who only a few years before had joined with Hegel ın resurrecting a renewed Attic art-religion of their own. Spirit as Artist: Religion as Art

art-religion is, first o f all, a t u r n from the Egyptian taskm a s t e r who has his images built for him t o the Greek artist who creates his own. This proletarian shift is paralleled by a number of theologically significant changes as well; the m o s t important is the shift from silent idols (including the quasi-human sphinx) t o the spoken The

turn to

word, which allows a consequent shift t o self-conscious activity and

expression. Hegel defines language as “an o u t e r reality t h a t is immediately self-conscious existence” (710). I t is by now a familiar image— l a n g u a g e as a s e l f - e x i s t e n t s y s t e m w h i c h w e internalize t o g i v e expres-

sion t o ourselves. (Heidegger: “language is the house of being” and “language speaks through us.”%?) I t is through t h e verbal a r t s , drama, and poetry, t h a t we c o m e t o express ourselves as Spirit. (Hieroglyphics, o n the other h a n d , are n o t yet language insofar as they are n o t yet “blended w i t h the shape o f t h o u g h t ” (695).) This suggests a n ex-

tremely important shift t h a t is t o o often overlooked by readers o f these passages.®® Hegel is n o t here merely contrasting the Greek visual a r t s , especially t h e magnificent sculpture o f the Greek gods and goddesses, with the more primitive decorations of the Egyptians. The triumph of Greek a r t and religion is distinctively verbal. Hegel does 62. See, for instance, J.L. Mehta, The Philosophy ofMartin Heidegger (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1971), esp. p p . 2 2 3 - 4 3 ; and Charles Guignon, “Heidegger o n Language,” i n The Monist, 1981.

63. E.g., John Findlay i n his “Analysis,” p. 590.

The Secret of Hegel

605

include and discuss the visual arts, but as a distinctively inferior and “abstract” form o f art. I t 1s Sophocles, n o t Polyclitus, who gives Spirit its shape here. I t 1s important t o avoid thinking o f a r t as a n instrument o r a vehicle

of expression which sometimes happens t o be used for religious feeli n g . T h r o u g h o u t his career, Hegel treats a r t as essentially a n expres-

sion o f the Absolute and therefore tied t o religion. I t is n o t as i f a r t were one form o f h u m a n activity which, i n Greece and the ancient w o r l d , became enlisted i n the service o f religion. Art as such, as

Schelling had argued t o o , was the expression of Spirit, whether or n o t this was appreciated by the artist.° And though it is n o t discussed i n the Phenomenology i n any detail, ıt is clear t h a t art too is t o be “transcended” i n favor o f some “ h i g h e r representation”, that is, through concepts as such (702). This means that the functions o f a r t give way to

philosophy, and a r t presumably loses a dominant place i n our lives.

I n our times, this is indeed a very real question—what apart from

decoration and a peculiarly profound form o f entertainment, should the a r t s be? But for Hegel, the a r t s were n o t a t all “aesthetic,” much less simple craftsmanship (“instinctive fashioning of material” (ibid.)); a r t is spiritual expression. I n a society fulfilled by “the Concept,” a r t n o longer has a primary spiritual function. Exit “art as reason itself” (Delacroix). Incipit commercial a r t , Muzak, and “art for art’s sake.” I n art-religion, “spirit has raised the shape i n which i t is present. . . and produces such a shape for itself” (699). B u t here i t is clear that

we have skipped several stages o f the Phenomenology, including the whole o f “Self-Consciousness” (ignoring for t h e m o m e n t the craftsmanship of the slave) and the whole o f “Reason” t o o , which Hegel has already told us has no religious connections. I n art-religion, we find ourselves squarely i n the middle o f Spirit and Sittlichkeit, “the free people (“nation”) i n whom hallowed c u s t o m constitutes the subs t a n c e o f all, whose actuality and existence everyone knows t o be his o w n will a n d deed” (700). This is where the “arrangement o f forms” is indeed varied from the structure o f the book i n general, i n o r d e r

for Hegel t o p u t i n historical order first the Greeks and then medieval philosophy and Christianity. The point t o be made, of course, is that the Greeks made their very lives into a r t and religion, t h a t religion 64. See, e.g., Hegel's Introduction to Aesthetics (“Aesthetics”), trans. T . M . K n o x , (Oxford:

Clarendon Press, 1979), and the introductory essay by Charles Karelis. Art is the ideal unification o f t h e “ u n i v e r s a l a n d particular,” a n d thus its representational content is

always more important than its form (esp. p p . 75 ff). 65. Ibid, p . 25f. One can anticipate Hegel's opinion o f the “art for art’s sake” movem e n t that begins i n the later part o f his century.

606

Hitching the Highway ofDespatr

for them was first o f all “folk-religion,” a community unity rather than a s e t o f doctrines o r the worship of anything outside themselves.® Even the gods were among them, took part i n their ceremonies, and chose sides i n battle, n o t a t all like the distant God o f the Hebrews and the Persians, who intervened o n occasion b u t by n o means was t o

be thought of i n human shape and with human all-too-human weaknesses. A r t for the Greeks was the expression o f their o w n commu-

nity, their legends, their heroes, their feasts and good fortunes. Religion t o o was an expression o f community, and so art, religion, and tribal life were all o f a piece, not, as i n m o d e r n times, separate h u m a n

concerns with “specialists” i n different, often antagonistic, disciplines. Life was “absolute levity” and “joyfulness,” “the consummation of the

ethical sphere” (701). I t was n o t o u t o f “joyfulness,” however, that the Greeks became the master artists and the m o s t profound spokesmen for Spirit. I n a pre-

cociously Nietzschean analysis, Hegel argues that Greek a r t and religion become self-consciously realized only when that mythical unity had been lost.” “Spirit, inwardly sure o f itself, mourns over the loss o f its w o r l d ” (ibid.). Art thus becomes a form o f salvation, a striving

after a unity that has been lost, the translation o f misfortune into pathos and pathos taken u p as the material for a r t (702). “How much these people m u s t have suffered,” Nietzsche exclaims years later, “to be so beautiful”.®® Greek art, Hegel tells us, truly begins as “absolute

art” only with the breakdown o f community, i n which “out of the purity of self i t (Spirit) c r e a t e s its own essence which is raised above the real world” (701). Antigone thus becomes the representation of Greek life as such (704), a n d i t is in this light that we should remem-

ber Schiller’s rhetorical query—“How is it that the individual Greek was able t o be the representative o f his [her] age?”%® I n Greek tragedy,

and comedy t o o , every individual has “the positive power of universality” (704), and i t is thus that the Greeks approach, but do n o t yet reach, that absolute sense o f unity that Hegel, with the Greeks as his ideal, spends his life trying t o find. The discussion of art-religion is divided up into three separate stages, whose logic is strange even within the c o n t e x t o f the Phenomenology. T h e three divisions are “ t h e abstract w o r k o f art,” “the living w o r k o f

art,” and “the spiritual work o f art.” Only parts o f the first and third 66. See H a r r i s , Hegel's Development, p . 390f.

67. Nietzsche, Birth of Tragedy, t r a n s . W. Kaufmann (New York: Random House, 1966). 68. I b i d . Also, “ H o m e r ' s Contest” (1872) trans. W. K a u f m a n n , Nietzsche ( N e w York:

Viking, 1954). 69. Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Mankind, p . 322.

The Secret of Hegel

607

divisions are ostensibly about “art” as such; the second division 1s about festivals a n d Dionysian revels, Greek warriors a n d athletes, “ a r t ” only

i n that very general sense i n which anything of beauty, whether manmade o r n o t , might be called “art.” I n Hegel’s later Philosophy of Religion, the parallel chapter “Spiritual Individuality” 1s divided u p as “the religion of sublimity,” “the religion o f beauty,” and “the religion of utility or o f understanding.” These correspond more t o the movement i n the first stage than t o the three divisions o f the Phenomenology as such. I n Hegel’ later lectures on a r t , however, he divides up the arts into three general categories: architecture (making the world comfortable t o us); sculpture (which gives shape t o inert m a t t e r and makes i t like us); and what he calls community (which includes music, painting, and poetry). Poetry, finally, is “the m o s t spiritual presentation o f romantic art,” “the highest stage” in which “art transcends itself” and “passes o v e r from the poetry of the imagination t o the prose o f thought”?! Since Hegel here is discussing n o t only his view of Greek religion but his analysis o f the a r t s and Greek culture as well, these later writings may be o f some help t o u s . ” The first thing t o be said about “abstract art” is t h a t its meaning for Hegel is t h e very opposite o f its meaning for us. “Abstract” art is a r t

that is

too

particular, that does n o t fit i n with the r e s t o f h u m a n life

except as an object for devotion or appreciation. Thus a Greek

statue

is a clear example o f “abstract art,” t h o u g h i n o u r terms i t w o u l d n o t

be abstract a t all. Hegel argues that, as an individual representation, a single s t a t u e o f a god o r goddess o r mythical figure 1s a n inferior

work o f a r t — n o matter how brilliantly executed—precisely because i t 1s n o t enough o f a reflection of self. I t does have human form, which 1s a monumental advance over t h e icons and sculptured plants and animals o f m o r e idolatrous religions, b u t i t is still too

silent,

too

too

m u c h “other,”

non-conceptual. The argument here is repeated i n He-

gel’s later Lectures on Aesthetics—that t h e “highest” a r t s are the m o s t conceptually expressive a r t s , poetry i n particular. (Later, the hier-

archy will be reversed by Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, who will place music a t t h e t o p , as “most spiritual,” j u s t because i t 1s so non-conceptual.) T h e argument, i t is w o r t h noting, resembles the argument in the “zoo” section o f chapter 5; the problem o f the arust (the sculptor,

for example) is t h a t familiar a n t a g o n i s m b e t w e e n “ i n n e r ” i n t e n t i o n s and t h e “outer” product. But here, unlike t h e “zoo,” t h e problem is one o f expression o f the truly universal, the creation o f an art-work 70. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 2, p p . 1 7 0 - 2 1 9 , 2 2 4 - 8 8 , 288-323. 71. Aesthetics, p . 89. 7 2 . Harris, p . XXvill.

608

Hitching the Highway of Despair

that is wholly “selfless” (in the individual sense), inspired by the Absolute as its o w n expression a n d n o t the particular w o r k o f a particul a r artist (708). T h e limitation is the l i m i t a t i o n o f the m e d i u m , n o t the artist o r his abilities. A statue is always just a s t a t u e . I t is always “ o u t there,” a mere object. A n d thus the search for a n expression o f unity—

the aim o f absolute art—moves t o the verbal a r t s . (Not surprisingly, we might add, Greek mythology itself is filled with s t a t u e s that speak, come

to

life, a n d participate i n the lives o f their c r e a t o r s . Pygmalion

and Galatea provide the m o s t dramatic example.) A s t a t u e may resemble a man, b u t i t is n o t yet “like himself” (709).

For that, we need “another element of

existence”—language,

“an outer

reality that 1s immediately self-conscious existence” (710). T h e first

role o f language i n n o longer confined

art

to

1s the Oracle, and here i t is clear

that

“art” is

that somewhat truncated discipline that we (not

Hegel) call “the history o f art.” The Oracle is the language o f religion and the Absolute, b u t as a n alien voice (ibid.). What is more i t is a

voice (too much like Hegel) important is

the

that

speaks i n riddles and opaciues. More

use o f language i n

the

transmission o f epic poetry,

Homer i n particular. The Spirit speaks through Homer and the Homerids n o t as individuals but as Greek universality as such. ( I read “ t h e spirit o f Sunrise” as a n opaque allusion t o Homer’ “rosy fingered d a w n ” (711).) T h e epic has a substantial c o n t e n t b u t is full o f

details, which “appear trivial t o the progressively developing self-consciousness” (ibid.). From Homer’ epic poetry the Greeks learned t o distinguish the mere details o f

the

story from the essential h u m a n

truth within it. Here we find the golden age o f Greek theater, concerned n o t with details but with “ t h e sure and unwritten law of the gods.” The oracle becomes “individuality in general,” n o t an alien voice but “peculiar t o the god who is the spirit of an ethical people (sittliche Volkes),” whose speech “is n o longer alien

to

i t but their own” (712).

Finally, Greek language becomes fully conceptual in “ t h a t wise man of old” (Socrates) who “searched his own thought for what is true and b e a u t i f u l ” (1ibid.). Thus i t 1s t h a t the essentials o f Spirit are t o be found i n oneself, a n d the ultimate wisdom o f the (Delphic) oracle becomes “ K n o w Thyself.”

A t this point, the discussion takes a violent

turn.

Having summa-

rized t h e history o f Greek verbal representation from Homer t o Socr a t e s in a few opaque s e n t e n c e s , Hegel now t u r n s back t o what (in his lectures on the Philosophy of Religion) he takes t o be t h e basic form of all religion—the cult. This is, I think, the “community” ( i n primitive f o r m ) o f t h e Lectures on Aesthetics, a n d i n i t t h e v a r i o u s a r t s a r e all

expressions o f and joint activities o f the group. Hegel's example is

The Secret of Hegel

609

“the s t r e a m o f sacred song” (715) which is exemplified by the JudeoChristian ritual of the “hymn” but in this c o n t e x t more likely refers t o the song o f the Greek chorus, the theatrical device for representing the voice o f the community in Greek drama.”® The chorus, as opposed t o the s t a t u e , is n o longer “out there” but is identical t o the activity o f the community as such (713-14). ( I t is o f some significance

that the chorus itself is n o t the composition of any particular writer, and even i n the plays, the lines o f the chorus are usually familar warnings and judgments o f the community (734).) The discussion of “cult” that is discussed as “religion i n general” i n the later Lectures is transferred here t o the realm of the Greeks. What Hegel takes t o be the essence o f all spirituality 1s this sense o f com-

munity, but ın particular self-conscious community. Here in the Phenomenology he repeats his early analysis o f 1793, o f Greek folk-religion as a

set

o f rituals and rites instead o f the mere abstract theology o f

Christianity. I n t h a t early essay on “Folk Religion,” this cult of rituals emerged clearly superior t o Christianity; here, and i n the later lectures, this 1s no longer clear a t all. T h e “ l i v i n g w o r k o f a r t ” seems to b e neither religion n o r art, as we would understand those t e r m s . Hegel repeats with some relish his early fantasies concerning Greek Bacchanalia and festivals ( 7 2 0 - 2 6 ) ,

complete with the loss of consciousness and giddy whirl t h a t he also celebrated i n the Preface o f the Phenomenology (47), i n which each individual loses him or herself i n the festivities and in which—one can see Hegel’s fantasies flickering—*“a crowd of frenzied females” represent “the untamed revelry of Nature” (723). But Hegel ultimately rejects the “mysteries” of these ancient rites and recommends as superior the more straightforward worship o f the Greek athlete, as h a n d s o m e as a statue, perhaps, b u t n o t “ o u t t h e r e ” l i k e a statue;

h e is one o f us. His powers are o u r own. A r t and religion become corporeal b u t , H e g e l adds, t o o much so. I n this sweaty secularism we

have lost t h e spirituality with which religion is essentially concerned, and so we r e t u r n , under the guise o f “the spiritual work of art,” t o literature, the “highest expression o f S p i r i t ” a n d a form o f commu-

nıon

that

is wholly “conscious o f the universality of its human exis-

tence” (726). H.S. Harris tells us i n some detail h o w Hegel devoted m u c h o f his

youth, m o s t o f his studies, and much of his life t o Greek literature,’ and i t 1s with t h a t i n mind t h a t we should read “the spiritual work o f art” (727-47). Here Hegel gives us in extremely condensed form some 7 3 . See Findlay, “Analysis,” p . 5 8 1 ; Harris, p p . 234-38.

74. Harms, pp. 47-48.

610

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

twenty years o f reading and thinking about the Greek epic, the Greek gods (keeping i n mind that Hegel, Holderlin, and Schelling once tried to revive a religion with Zeus at its head), the chorus o f Greek tragedy

and the nature o f tragedy itself, the relationship between tragedy and comedy and, specifically, the plight o f Antigone and the irony o f Socr a t e s . There are even references (so disguised that they are hard t o confirm) to Hamlet a n d Macbeth (737).75

The epic, Hegel tells us, is a kind of “picture-thinking” which (as we have been told i n the “abstract art” section) is less than thought a n d more o f a sequence o f details which, nevertheless, represent the unity o f the whole through a single individual (“the Minstrel,” “ t h e

Middle Term”) (728-31). Gods and men, goddesses and women, battle all together, the various factions i n fact representing an underlying unity and each individual i n fact represents different aspects of spiritual forces i n general. I n the epic, Hegel tells us, the real c o n t e n t o f the story is t o be found primarily on the human level, while the gods and goddesses, for the

most

part, are largely comic. A n d behind the

seemingly chaotic sequence of events for both mortals and gods, there lurks Fate or Necessity, i n fact “the Concept.” I n the epic, this necessity—like the minstrel (Homer) who tells the story—is n o t brought into the picture. The graduation from epic poetry t o tragedy, accordingly, is making explicit both fate and the role o f the n a r r a t o r (732-33). Tragedy, according t o Hegel, 1s about necessity.” The chorus, representing the community, express foreboding, horror, and pity, but they are resigned t o fate. T h e individuals i n the drama, however, are n o t so wise o r so resigned; they fight against their fate, even as they

struggle t o find o u t what i t 1s. Tragedy, accordingly, 1s this conflict of determination and necessity, the conflict o f opposing rights and duties. Hegel is quite openly opposing the standard “tragic flaw” view o f tragedy that has come d o w n t o us from Aristotle’s Poetics, but at the same time h e is advancing his own theory o n a similarly limited

basis, the Oedipus cycle i n particular. (The clash of duties and the obscurity o f fate particularly well characterizes the themes of Oedipus Rex and Antigone.) I n any case, Hegel’s analysis takes this clash o f du-

ties, forces equally right,

to

be the essence o f tragedy and the result,

inevitably, is the death o f the individual, o r absolution from guilt, b u t

i n either case the

return

to

“the repose o f the whole, the unmoved

75. Hamlet is explicitly mentioned (vis-a-vis Yorick’s skull) i n PG, 333, but n o t in this section.

76. O n Hegel o n tragedy, see Walter Kaufmann, Tragedy and Philosophy (New York:

Doubleday, 1969).

611

The Secret ofHegel

unity o f fate, the peaceful existence and consequent inactivity and lack of vitality o f family and government . . . the r e t u r n of spiritual life into the umtary being o f Zeus” (740).

Opposed t o the deep, troubling antagonisms of fate i n tragedy, i n which Zeus and necessity strike us as alien impositions into human happiness, comedy reduces everything t o ridiculousness, even, especially, the gods. Comedy delights i n exposing hypocrisy (“the contrast between the universal as a theory a n d that with which practice 1s concerned” (745) and exposes both the pettiness o f individuals and the

contempt o f individuals for the universal order (ibid.). The striking role of comedy here i n the Phenomenology, immediately preceding “Revealed Religion,” should give us warning; Christianity for Hegel c a n n o t be the gloomy and certainly humorless schizoid sensibilities of the “Unhappy Consciousness,” if, that is, Christianity is the “revealed religion.” I f we take the order of the dialectic with any seriousness, Greek comedy, this disdain for the gods and rendering them (as well as ourselves) ridiculous, 1s as close as we have come (so far) to the Absolute. O n e here senses Goethe's great cosmic j o k e a n d the laugh

o f Mephistopheles far more than the seriousness o f the theologians and the sufferings o f Christ. But comedy plays another role i n the realization o f Spirit, according t o Hegel, and, curiously enough, i t is also the backdrop against which Hegel presents us with the “wise m a n o f old,” the greatest phi-

losopher (in Hegel’s early writings)—Socrates. I t is the ironic spirit o f comedy which allows the Sophists t o reject all t h a t has been given t o them, t o refute all arguments p u t before them, and expose “the vanishing of t h e absolute validity previously attaching t o [ethical laws and maxims)” (746).

It

is this same sense o f irony

that

lets Socrates too,

far from being the mere opponent o f the Sophists, refute even the sophistry o f the Sophists and prepare the way for his own positive

theories of the Beautiful and the Good. Rational thinking frees the divine Being from its contingent shape and, i n antithesis t o the unthinking wisdom o f the Chorus which produces all sorts o f ethical maxims . . . lifts these into simple Ideas o f the Beautiful and the Good. (Ibid.)

Socrates, like the Sophists but going beyond them, recognizes “the movement

o f this abstraction (as) the dialectic contained i n the max-

ims and the laws themselves” (ibid.). I n his dialogues, he uses “Socratic irony” t o t u r n the “pure thoughts of the Beautiful and the Good” Into “a comic s p e c t a c l e . ” I t is n o t the wisdom o f S o c r a t e s t h a t is o n display here so m u c h as the disintegration o f Sutlichkeit a n d naive

612

Hitching the Highway of Despair

ethical certainty under the onslaught of the Sophists. Socrates’ bold questions—l]ike the Sophists’ cynicism—was symptomatic o f the breakdown of Greek harmony, as Nietzsche later argued too.”” The laws and maxims o f morality are “liberated” from Sittlichkeit and become “empty opinions,” “the caprice of chance individuality” (ibid.) replaced only by the “clouds” of Socrates’ Forms (“Ideas”).”® Hegel is thus once again repeating the key step i n his dialectic, from individuality t o Sutlichkeit, but now i t is being played for us i n its proper historical order, that is, backwards. I t is the split between the individ-

ual and the ethical whole—whether i n the misery of unhappy consciousness and tragedy or the ridiculousness and mockery of comedy— which destroys t h a t easy innocence. The point of the Sophists—with which Hegel ends this section, is t h a t even the Absolute is a t the “mercy” o f o u r o w n self-consciousness. We c r e a t e o u r gods a n d the Good and the Beautiful; thus they are rendered impotent and empty. A n d so

Hegel ends with a warning, t h a t however satisfying this comic attitude may be, i t is n o t the whole of life: t h i s self-certainty i s a state o f spiritual w e l l - b e i n g a n d repose therein,

such as is n o t t o be found anywhere outside o f this Comedy. (747) N o w what, you should ask, does any o f this have

to

d o with religion?

That 1s just the point; religion, for Hegel, has little t o do with the rather specific and highly speculative doctrines t h a t we call by that honorific name. Greek comedy is just as much religion as Sunday Mass, and Homer is just as much a holy t e x t as the Bible. Religion is t h a t search for unity t h a t characterizes every intelligent society mn social and conceptual disarray. “Alienation,” i n this perspective, 1s primarily a religious concept, and tragedy and comedy together represent the t w o sides of our remedy for alienation—the one, seeing ourselves as universally determined b y one and the same shared “Fate” (or Fates),

the other, seeing the ridiculousness o f ourselves i n o u r seriousness. B u t both p r o v i d e us w i t h a sense o f unity, that is, as spectators, at least. B u t then again, we are

comedy—or ın Spirit.

Though Hegel seems

to

not

just spectators—in either tragedy o r

find a certain “levity” i n

“The Self is absolute Being” (748), I

must

the

proposition

confess t h a t I miss t h e joke.

77. Esp. Twilight of the Idols, t r a n s . W. Kaufmann, Nietzsche, pp. 463-564, “The Problem o f Socrates,” pp. 473-79. 78. T h e reference t o “Clouds” is presumably an allusion t o Aristophanes’ mocking c o m e d y a b o u t S o c r a t e s b y t h a t name.

79. T h e warning that comedy is contained within its own sphere might perhaps better

apply t o that l a t e r G e r m a n genius, H e r m a n n Hesse,

w h o i n Steppenwolf, at least,

pursue a c o s m i c view o f t h e “ c o m i c ” in just t h i s s e n s e . Hegel i s preted, attractively, by Joshua Loewenberg i n his Hegel's Phenomonology. tends to

a l s o s o inter-

613

The Secret ofHegel

But the levity raises the question that confronts him once again, as ı t had earlier i n his career: the question o f Christianity. How does Christianity or “revealed religion” fit into human life? How does i t fit in the history o f religion? H o w does i t serve t o unify us all as “Spirit,”

when its history shows so clearly that its secular consequences have been t o divide us and s e t ourselves against each other? H o w can He-

gel, a German writing a t the height of the new secular era, see his way past the horrors and destruction o f the Thirty Years War, which had destroyed Germany a century and a half before i n its bloody confrontation of Christians against Christians? I n both the Phenomenology and the later lectures on the Philosophy of Religion, Hegel is obviously attempting t o minimize the importance of Greek Volk-religion, vis-a-vis Christianity, in c o n t r a s t with his own critical attacks on modern religion i n his early writings. Greek religion is now viewed as a primitive anticipation o f Christianity (“Spirit has n o t yet sacrificed itself as self-conscious Spirit to self-consciousness, a n d the mystery o f bread a n d w i n e [in Dionysian festivals] is n o t yet the mys-

tery o f flesh and blood” (724). I t is a t this point that the Phenomenology t u r n s

to

Christianity, as

“Revealed Religion” (748). B u t before we j o i n Hegel in that t u r n , let

us look for a m o m e n t a t the later lectures, where Hegel divides u p “Spiritual Individuality” i n quite a different way, as we mentioned before. T h e three sub-forms there, “the religion o f sublimity,” “the

religion o f beauty,” and “the religion o f Utility o r of the understandi n g ” are perhaps more parallel t o the s t r u c t u r e o f the Phenomenology

than the divisions i n the Phenomenology chapter, and i n any case, more historical and more informative. The three divisions in the lectures correspond, respectively, t o Jewish religion, Greek religion, and Rom a n religion.® We have already noted that Judaism is given n o clearly

delineated position in the dialectic o f the Phenomenology, surely a curiosity given Hegel's own background. (“Old Testament Religion,” for example, finds a most prominent place i n Hegel’s early model, Lessing’s Education of Mankind). I t is worth noting that, i n the lectures as

they were delivered i n Berlin i n 1827, Hegel switched the order o f Jewish and Greek religion and treated Greek religion as a step t o Judaism. Hegel praises Judaism for its “demythologizing,” and the Old Testament is retained as the m o s t important presupposition and anticipation of “revealed religion.” Roman religion, on the other hand, 1s given the optimum position i n the dialectic but is treated as religiously empty. I t is, i n fact, the ancient equivalent o f the Enlighten80. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 2, pp. 170ff, 22411, 288ff.

614

Hıitching the Highway of Despair

in modern times, a rejection o f the religious consciousness (which finds itself a t a disadvantage i n its relations with this powerful secu-

ment

larism), n o t i n the name o f Reason but in the name o f utility. I t 1s this

conflict between Jewish faith and Roman pragmatism that sets the stage for their ulumate confrontation and transcendence. The secular impotence and infinite power of the Jewish God confront the secular power and spiritual impotence of the Roman empire—both entering their age o f decadence i n the period i n question—and the consequence is a new synthesis. T h e Jewish religion, faced with the

fateful “disharmony” of God against man t h a t Hegel first criticized i n his early manuscripts and later made the basis o f the “Unhappy Consciousness” of the Phenomenology, makes t o o little of man. The Greek religion, “the religion o f humanity,” makes “confidence i n the gods a t the same time human self-confidence’?! b u t Rome takes this secular-

ization

to

the ultimate conclusion and destroys both human confi-

dence a n d religion. T h i s was not true, o f course, in its adolescence o f

restless empire-building. By the ume of Herod, however, Rome was already falling into disillusionment, and a t the same time that the Jewish people were finding their lot on earth inadequately served by their faith. The time was ripe for Christ—the synthesis of Jewish transcendence and Greek self-confidence—the formulation o f a religious mythology which combines the infinite “Other” and the finite self-conscious self i n a single representation. And so we turn, a t last, t o “revealed” o r “absolute religion.”

“Revealed Religion” (Christianity?) I f this effort [to render Christianity plausible] were t o succeed, then would this effort have the ironic fate that on the day of its triumph it would have lost everything and entirely quashed Christianity. —Kierkegaard, Concluding Unscientific Postscript

I t 1s time t o account for o u r original claim—that Hegel is n o t a Chris-

tian and his philosophy is only a pretense o f Christian apologetics. This account can best be completed in t w o stages: first, it can be shown that “revealed religion” i n the Phenomenology 1s not orthodox Christianity, but that Christianity appears and is “sublated” i n a t least t w o preceding sections of the dialectic. Second, we m u s t spell o u t our claim 81. I b i d . , p . 257.

615

The Secret of Hegel

that the key doctrines o f Christian theology, the Trinity and incarnation, Original Sin and the immortality o f the Soul, are utterly devoid of Christian c o n t e n t in Hegel's analysis. I n our account o f the religious dialectic we have avoided every attempt t o single o u t the particularly Christian elements of its various forms. The essence o f religion, we have seen, is its appeal t o the infınite or Absolute, t o a whole that is greater than ourselves. This Absolute 1s ultimately Spirit, and Spirit, once adequately realized, should abandon the religious “picture-thinking” which always falls short o f its goal (787). B u t now, what is the essence o f Christianity? As a religion, i n Hegel's sense, i t m u s t consist of an appeal t o the Absolute, and as Christianity, i t

must

represent this Absolute i n t e r m s o f an

identity o f God and man, in a particular instance. Thus, Christianity is a special attempt t o reconcile the finite self with the infinite Absolute, an attempt which necessarily involves the notion o f “incarnation.” Thus

Judaism attempted

to

reconcile the finite and infinite through feel-

i n g , study a n d prayer, the Greeks attempted to d o so through art, and the Romans through their state. B u t only Christianity, according to

Hegel, involves this very special notion o f historical identity,

not

the Greek a n d Roman gods appearing as m e n (also as bulls, swans, and doves), but God existing as a man. T h e chapter o n “Religion” ex-

plicitly

returns to

(or try

to

the beginning o f the Phenomenology i n order

to

give

give) every form o f consciousness a religious interpretation.

I n the section “Revealed Religion,” Hegel takes us back t o t h e beginning once again, this time with a particularly Christian outlook. How, i n the dialectic o f forms we have traversed so far, is the Christian identity o f G o d a n d m a n t o b e traced? T h e answer, o f course, begins

with “Unhappy Consciousness,” and Hegel repeats his analysis o f that earlier treatment here ( 7 4 8 - 5 3 ) , i n contrast t o the comic consciousness we have just discussed. (We remember i n the early essays too,

how Hegel repeatedly played oft Socrates against Jesus, as well as folk religion against Christianity). Both comic consciousness and unhappy consciousness see their world reduced t o absurdity, but the former as

a cosmic joke, the latter as sheer misery (752). Hegel tells us that the one consciousness 1s mn fact “ t h e c o u n t e r p a r t a n d completion o f the o t h e r ” (752) a n d revolves around opposite sides o f the same antago-

nism between the individual consciousness and the Absolute; in comedy the Absolute is a t the mercy o f the individual, while in unhappy Christianity the individual is a t the mercy o f the Absolute (748, 749). Consequently, the comic consciousness sees itself as the Absolute (747)

and “is perfectly happy within itself” (752) while the unhappy consciousness has lost all reason for living, lost all respect for itself a n d

616

Hitching the Highway of Despair

the laws and ethics i n general (753). D o we need a dialectical argument to

tell us which is preferable?

The argument does n o t stop here, however; i t has just begun. Hegel steps back still further a n d describes for us once again the break-

u p of society i n which the comic consciousness flourished (750) and along with it the escapist philosophies of Stoicism and Skepticism (750— 51) which provided the conceptual framework for the Christian worldview (754). I t would be naive n o t t o see here too the elements o f social unrest

among the Jews under Rome, though they are n o t mentioned.

Here 1s the crucible i n which Christianity was b o r n ; alienated Rome,

eternity minded-philosophers, restless Jews awaiting for “the birth of self-consciousness.” “All conditions are ready for Spirit t o recognize itself as Spirit” ( 7 5 3 - 5 4 ) . I n the midst o f arrogant Roman secularism— “The Self as such is Absolute B e i n g ” (750) and “Stoic independence o f thought” (ibid.)—we find the truth i n “that shape which we

have called the Unhappy Self-Consciousness” (751). So before we ent e r “Revealed Religion” as such, let us go back i n the Phenomenology and see how Christianity has already been covered, first as “Unhappy Consciousness” i n chapter 4, and then, i n the person o f Jesus Himself, as the “beautiful soul” in chapter 6.

CHRISTIANITY AS “UNHAPPY CONSCIOUSNESS”

“Unhappy Consciousness (206-30) or das ungliickliches Bewusstsein is a consciousness divided against itself, h a l f master, h a l f slave—the mas-

the alien sense of “the Unchangeable,” the eternal, God; the slave the “wretched” “changeable” being of flesh and blood who longs for

ter

a u n i o n with the Unchangeable. There can be n o doubt that “ U n -

happy Consciousness” 1s orthodox Christianity, which takes both God and Christ t o be something “other” than oneself. The question is, what 1s the scope o f the chapter and how much o f Christianity does it include? The several “triplets” i n the chapter make recognition of the Trinity and the traditional Catholic church unmistakable®?, but how much more than this? How much o f this chapter is theology and metaphysics? And how much is i t rather—in keeping with the title “Self-Consciousness”—a description o f a certain form o f consciousness, i n which the nature o f its objects is o f secondary interest? What

1s “Unhappy Consciousness” about? The analysis o f “Unhappy Consciousness” t u r n s o n 82. Findlay, Hegel, p . 99.

two contrasts

The Secret of Hegel

and

two

617

progressions o f three. The language 1s sufhciently convo-

l u t e d so that many readers are relieved just to recognize the Trinity

and be done with it, but i t is n o t the Trinity as such that is being discussed here. First, however, let us introduce the two sets o f contrasts:

changeable (and unessential) consciousness

versus Unchangeable (essential) consciousness and, from the earlier chapters o f the Phenomenology:

universal and particular.

With these two sets o f contrasts, Hegel discusses the story o f the J u -

deo-Christian tradition and our various attitudes toward the Unchangeable. The resultant matrix includes the Universal Unchangeable (God), the particular Unchangeable (Christ), the universal

changeable (which will eventually be Spirit, as “reconciliation o f individuality w i t h the universal”) (210), and the particular changeable, which is each o f us, i n o u r animal, wretched, earthly condition.

The first progression 1s clearly identifiable as the Trinity, but i t is more accurately described as three different views of our “link with the Unchangeable”— 1. as opposed t o the Unchangeable . . . thrown back t o the beginning of the struggle which is throughout the element i n which the whole relationship subsists. (210) 2. consciousness learns that individuality belongs t o the Unchangeable itself, so that i t assumes the form o f individuality into which the entire mode o f existence passes. (Ibid.) 3. i t finds its own self as this particular individual in the Unchangeable. (Ibid.)

T h e first 1s G o d the O l d Testament Father, a n alien B e i n g w h o passes j u d g m e n t u p o n us, threatens us, and reduces us (as Hegel had ar-

gued i n his early writings) t o slaves.® The second is the incarnation o f God as Christ. Third is the holy spirit, which allows us t o “experience the j o y o f finding ourselves therein.” What concerns Hegel here is n o t the metaphysics o f the dissected G o d , however, b u t the marked

difference i n attitudes that each o f these views represents; the first is a projection o f a n almighty G o d that, as Nietzsche and Kierkegaard agree, can only make us feel pathetic i n comparison. Furthermore, as a n alien consciousness, we have n o idea “ h o w the latter will behave,” n o doubt a reference t o the whimsical and unpredictable n a t u r e o f 83. I n “ T h e Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate,” Early Theo. Mss., p. 182f.

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

618

the Old Testament Jehovah (211). The second view represents a vision o f G o d as “ o n e o f u s ” b u t , a t the same time, still “ o t h e r ” and

“alien,” and “the hope o f becoming one with i t m u s t remain a hope, i.e. without fulfillment and present fruition” (212). Hegel also raises the then serious worry among theologians about how a “contingent moment” i n history could have eternal significance, and how Christ's appearance almost 2000 years ago, i n a very distant land, could c o u n t for us now, since “ i n the w o r l d o f time i t has vanished, a n d i n space it had a remote existence and remains utterly remote” (ibid.). T h e t h i r d view, o n the other hand, is exactly what Hegel wants to defend, as the unity o f ourselves w i t h G o d , but, accordingly, he does n o t discuss i t at all i n t h i s chapter.8*

The second progression is with the Unchangeable;

a

series o f attempts

to

unify ourselves

1. through purity o f consciousness. (214) 2. through work, as a particular, living, desiring individual (Ibid.). 3. as consciousness aware o f its own being-for-itself (Ibid.).

I t 1s not difficult t o see these three attempts as encompassing the whole

domain o f Christianity; the first is traditional Catholicism, and Hegel's sarcasm is u n b r i d l e d (“the chaotic j i n g l i n g o f bells, a mist o f warm incense, a musical t h i n k i n g that does n o t get as far as the Con-

c e p t . . . ”) (217). T h e effort t o unify one’s lowly changeable existence with the Unchangeable here is a withdrawal into oneself through pure feeling or “devotion” (ibid.). But inevitably, unhappily, one falls back t o the “inessential,” mere feeling, which is fleeting and utterly changeable. I n desperation, Hegel adds, this s o r t o f consciousness seeks a tangible object for its devotion, and so seeks “the form o f an object,” a n icon or, ideally, the tangible actuality o f Christ. I n a particularly opaque reference, Hegel says that “Consciousness can only find as its present reality the grave o f its life,” which commentators generally

agree, o n the basis o f very little evidence, (“the struggle o f an e n t e r prise doomed t o failure” (ibid.)) refers t o the Holy Crusades o f the 11th t o 13th centuries.?> What 1s clear is that Hegel considers the search for physical icons the symptom o f a deep failing i n Catholicism itself—its devotion t o a single, contingent, historical event. This i n t u r n leads t o a self-defeating dependency on the church and other tangible symbols o f God, rather than God—or the Unchangeable itself. 84. T h e third stage might well be viewed as the new “enlightened” religion envisioned by Lessing i n his Education of Mankind, b u t one should n o t assume too quickly

that i t is identical t o “revealed religion” i n chapter 7. 85. E.g., Findlay, Hegel p. 99; and Baillie, i n his translation of the PG, p. 258.

The Secret o f Hegel

619

The second attempt is the religion of “good works,’ from Pelagius i n the 4th century t o much o f secularized Protestantism, where the withdrawal from the world is replaced by a new enthusiasm for the world itself as “sanctified” (219) a n d b y activity (218). F o r the “ p u r e

consciousness” the world itself was a “nullity,” but for the active consciousness this is n o t the case. The modern Christian enjoys life and work; he sees his mission as changing the world (220). F o r this ability

enjoy and work this energetic consciousness “gives thanks” t o the Unchangeable and “denies itself the satisfaction of being conscious o f to

its independence,” even “renounces itself” (222). I t 1s a familiar picture

for us—the secular Christian missionary, working for fame and

fortune (often o n television) i n the name o f Christ. B u t here Hegel's

early criticisms emerge once again against this duplicity o f both acting and renouncing, doing deeds but n o t ultimately taking responsibility for t h e m and, i n t r u e Nietzschean f o r m , h e claims that the whole

business of renunciation, which does indeed give one a sense of “unity with the Unchangeable” (ibid.), 1s exactly the opposite o f what it pretends t o be—a renunciation. The very a c t o f renunciation, i n all of 1ts self-righteousness, is at the same time a n arrogant act o f self-asser-

tion. Here is the dilemma o f the self-consciously Christian businessman, who claims dependence o n God and “gives thanks” for his success b u t a t the same time takes p r i d e i n his being a “self-made man.” A t some p o i n t , h e m a y well feel e i t h e r t h a t his claims t o success are

fraudulent, or, that the pretense o f dependency is a sham and renun-

ciation the furthest thing from his self-made mind.®® The third form o f consciousness, accordingly, is the renewed realization that worldly success c a n n o t be made compatible with this uncompromising self-denying view, that every success 1s a “vanity” that

draws us further away from the unity with the Unchangeable, and that the only way t o unify oneself with the Unchangeable is t o deny oneself completely. This is the ascetic religious consciousness, which also plays such an important role i n Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morals many years later.® The Catholic consciousness tried t o ignore itself i n devotion t o the Unchangeable consciousness; the second, more sec-

ular form of consciousness devoted itself mainly t o its life and its work, with peripheral “thanks” t o God. B u t now, the ascetic self sees itself 86. T h e obvious afhnity here is Kierkegaard’s harsh attacks o n “Christendom” throughout his philosophy but particularly i n hisJournals, and his later (1854) Attack on Christendom ( P r i n c e t o n U n i v . Press, t r a n s , W . Lowrie, 1 9 4 4 ) :

“The fault with the monastery was n o t asceticism, celibacy, e t c . ; no, the fault was that Christianity had been moderated by making the admission that all this was to be considered extraordinarily Christian—and the purely secular nonsense t o be considered ordinary Christianity.” 8 7 . T r a n s l a t e d b y K a u f m a n n , p a r t i i i . A l s o i n Thus Spake Zarathustra as “ t h e despisers

o f t h e b o d y ” (Part 1, sec. 4).

620

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

as the enemy, the “Fiend,” as “flesh,” as “vile,” as “petty” and “wretched.”

This 1s the truly unhappy consciousness, the morbid life o f religion described by Kierkegaard or Augustine on their w o r s t days. This final form of the unhappy consciousness attempts t o deny itself altogether. I t gives away its property (since property, i n the thinking o f the time, was definitive o f selfhood too). I t fasts and mortifies the flesh. I t is

particularly repulsed by “its awareness of itself i n its animal functions” (225) which are “no longer performed naturally and without embarrassment” (ibid.). I n them, “ t h e enemy reveals himself i n his

characteristic shape” (ibid.) and so he sees himself “defiled” and impoverished and becomes a “brooding, wretched” self, as unhappy as 1s imaginable (ibid.). The compensation for this misery, however, 1s “consciousness of its u n i t y w i t h the Unchangeable” (226). T h e attempted destruction o f

the self is “mediated by the thought o f the Unchangeable” and this, i n a familiar pathological sense, has some success. The argument would seem t o be that, i n the frenzy o f total self-denial, which is wholly negative, there is a positive consciousness o f gain o n the side o f the Unchangeable; as there is less a n d less o f one’s worldly self, there is m o r e a n d more room for one’s divine soul-—assuming, that is, that selfhood

is a kind o f vacuum and that the Unchangeable soul is capable of filling it. Hegel takes a n o d d twist here, which suggests, a t least, that all o f

“Unhappy Consciousness” remains within the realm of the early church; Christ, by way o f the church, again appears (227-30) and heartens this most unhappy ascetic consciousness by giving advice and, i n effect, taking all responsibility for our actions and our fate on Himself. I n the realm o f the church, we renounce o u r actions a n d o u r enjoyments; we are encouraged t o give u p o u r property; we are told t o say “what is meaningless” (228) and “practice what we don’t understand” (229). Here, i n other words, is everything Hegel hated about Christianity as a youth, its “positivity” (authoritarianism), its senseless

jargon and catechism, its denial o f o u r responsibility for o u r actions and o u r autonomy o f t h i n k i n g ; a n d most o f all, the c h u r c h turns us i n t o something less t h a n human, into a “ t h i n g ” (229) ascribing all o f this degradation as “ a gift from above” (ibid.).® I t m a y be, as Chris-

tians have often said, that theirs is a religion—perhaps the only religion—in which God actually reaches down t o his people instead o f 88. A n d from t h e o t h e r side, M e n thus corrupt, m e n who have despised themselves from the moral point o f view, even

though i n other respects they prided themselves on being God's favorites, were bound t o c r e a t e the doctrine o f the corruption o f human n a t u r e and adopt i t gladly.

(The Positivity-essay, pp. 159-60).

The Secret of Hegel

621

requiring them t o one-sidedly reach u p t o him. But Hegel’s view of this virtue is unmistakable—that the very idea o f a God “above” and alien to us is a miserable misunderstanding o f the Absolute, and we

shall see this criticism invoked again and again, as an error i n “picture-thinking,” i n the chapter on “Revealed Religion” as such. Although the time sequence is backward, one could n o t do better than t o see “ t h e unhappy consciousness” as best exemplified by Kier-

kegaard.?® The Danish existentialist’s conception of “becoming a Christian” is precisely this third and ultimate phase of “unhappy consciousness,” the resignation and willingness t o abandon oneself, “to fill one’s consciousness with meaningless ideas and phrases,” t o voluntarily “disclaim all power t o independent self-existence,” but nevertheless retain the awareness o f “its own resolve” and “its own selfconstituted content.” Kierkegaard would agree with Hegel that the church is “positive” or authoritarian, and he would insist that the “resolve” m u s t be formulated directly before God without this corrupted “ministering agency.” But Kierkegaard would ultimately reject the entire “cult” and “communal” dimension of Hegel’ religion, and he would insist that the “representations” o f Christianity, whether they be icons o r theological treatises, a r e ultimately irrelevant to t h e faith. What is left, therefore, is feeling a n d devotion, b u t n o t the simple innocent

feeling of Hegel's first phase. I t is rather the anguish and “unhappiness” that comes i n the ultimate phase. Hegel now takes his dialectic o n t o happier ground, first t o the idealistic and self-confident world o f science, then t o the increasingly spiritual world o f the community. Kierkegaard insists upon remaining i n “Self-Consciousness,” indignantly “individual,” stubbornly “unhappy,” and belligerently opposed t o just that sense o f community ultimately deified by Hegel. Kierkegaard refers t o Hegel’s Spirit as “the Crowd,” “the Public,” the “collective Idea,” “the Christian hordes” and variously compares them t o geese, sheep, and factory products.” I t is a t this point that the dialectic finds religious consciousness intolerable and flees t o the happy refuge of science. I t would be strange, t o say the least, i f we were to r e t u r n back t o this same “ u n h a p p y ”

phase once we have had our

taste

of it. I n fact, we do n o t . This is the

last we will see o f traditional Christianity. Kierkegaard complained 89. “Christianity is c e r t a i n l y n o t melancholy; i t is, o n t h e contrary, g l a d t i d i n g s — f o r

the melancholy.” Kierkegaard,Journals (1843). 90. “ T h u s i t was established by the state as a kind o f eternal principle that every child is naturally b o r n a Christian . . . so, i t took i t u p o n itself to produce Christians. . . . So t h e state delivered, generation after generation, a n assortment o f Christians; each b e a r i n g t h e m a n u f a c t u r e r ' s t r a d e m a r k o f t h e s t a t e , w i t h p e r f e c t a c c u r a c y o n e Christian

exactly like all the others. . . .the point o f Christianity became: the greatest possible uniformity o f a factory product” Kierkegaard, (Papirer, X I , A12).

622

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

that Hegel had given u p Christianity, and he was c o r r e c t . What is commonly interpreted as Christianity i n “revealed religion” is Christian i n terminology and triads only. One might as well suggest that the Bohr atomic theory is Christian because of its reliance on groups of three (though there a r e c u r r e n t theories o f religion that would probably n o t find this suggestion implausible).

JESUS AS “THE BEAUTIFUL SOUL”

“Unhappy Consciousness” was concerned with the more theological and metaphysical aspects o f Christianity. But there 1s another aspect o f Christianity which many Protestants—Kant and Hegel among them— would argue is even more essential: Christian ethics. I n Hegel's early manuscripts and i n Kant’s Religion, moral concerns define religious doctrines, and religion is justified solely on the basis o f the supp o r t i t provides for morality. Accordingly, Jesus can be considered, n o t as G o d Incarnate, b u t as a h u m a n moral example. I n a grotesque

fashion, Hegel's “Life o f Jesus” attempted t o consider Jesus only as a normally born and normally buried human being, who distinguished himself as the first Kantian i n his “Sermon o n the Mount.” T h e

at-

tempt was abortive, but the motivation evident; the Jesus that interested Hegel was n o t the Christ o f the Trinity but rather the Jewish moral teacher as a late colleague and a n illustrious competitor o f Socrates.

Because Hegel thought far more of Jesus than he did o f Christianity as such, Jesus appears i n the Phenomenology long after we have left the unhappiness of Christianity. This is a historical Jesus, n o t a divinity, a “beautiful soul” who teaches ethics by example. This Jesus appropriately follows Kantian morality i n the dialectic, giving the bare forms o f the categorical imperative substantial c o n t e n t . This section is the last section o f chapter 6, “Spirit”, and immediately precedes the long chapter o n “Religion.” I t is worth noting that the section ends i t is G o d manifested in the m i d s t o f those w h o k n o w themselves i n

the form o f pure knowledge. (671)

“The Beautiful Soul: Evil and Forgiveness” (die Schöne Seele: das Böse und seine Verzethung (658-71, esp. 668f.)) has often appeared as a mystery t o commentators, a n arbitrary addition to the fairly solid dis-

cussion o f Kant and conscience preceding it. T h e “beautiful soul” was

a well-known Romantic phenomenon, discussed extensively by Jacobi, dramatized by Goethe, and enacted by Novalis. Accordingly, this

The Secret ofHegel

623

section o f Hegel is typically interpreted as an awkwardly placed discussion of this phenomenon.?! But however obnoxious this bourgeois melodrama may have been i n w a r - t o r n Germany i n 1806, it 1s not just the Romantic “beautiful soul” that Hegel portrays a t this prestigious stage o f the dialectic. T h e references to “self-destruction” may fit cer-

tain Romantic heroes, but they are surely tailor-made

to

the Passion

o f Jesus, just as the somewhat strained conceptual nativity scene o f

the following chapter (referring back t o “Unhappy Consciousness”) is tailor-made for the beginning o f the Jesus-story. One might well agree that references t o Novalis (including the pointed reference t o “ p i n i n g away i n consumption”) are o u t o f place here, b u t a discussion

of Jesus as moral teacher is surely very much in place here; i n fact, i t is absolutely necessary i f we are t o make any sense of this discussion a t this all-important juncture o f “Spirit” and “Religion.” I n the Phenomenology, the “beautiful soul” appears immediately following “Conscience,” Fichte’s attempt t o reconcile Kant’s formal morality with individual feeling. Hegel sees “conscience” as a quasi-reli-

gious position, “God immediately present t o mind and heart” (656). With the r e t r e a t of conscience into itself, with the recognition that i t is incapable of distinguishing between moral and immoral dictates of conscience, with its rejection of “all externality,” conscience evolves into the beautiful soul. Hegel explicitly links this “soul” t o “Unhappy Consciousness” (658) i n its withdrawal from the world— I t lives i n dread o f besmirching the splendour o f its inner being by action a n d a n existence; a n d i n order to preserve the purity o f its heart, it flees from contact w i t h the actual world, a n d persists i n its

self-willed impotence t o renounce its self which is reduced t o the o f ultimate abstraction. . . . it vanishes like a shapeless vapour dissolving into thin air. (658) extreme

The beautiful soul abstains from moral judgment, places itself above such judgment, and ultimately amounts t o a condemnation o f moral concerns. T h u s we recall that many o f Jesus’ teachings were n o t moral

exhortations but meta-moral preachings, attitudes t o be taken toward moral laws and transgressions o f laws rather than laws themselves. But judgment about moral laws is still judgment, even moral judgment, a n d the “morality” o f the beautiful soul is to place itself above

all such judgment (“Judge n o t that ye be n o t judged”). To do so, the beautiful soul t u r n s t o the spirit o f forgiveness, the ability t o look beyond the “moments” o f moral and immoral action t o the whole of Spirit. (“The wounds of the Spirit heal, and leave no scars behind” 91. E.g., Baillie, p p . 642, 667, 6 7 6 ; Findlay, Hegel, p . 129.

624

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

(669).) Here is Jesus’ contribution t o Spirit, not Christian morality as such but the teaching that we should rise above morality. This does

not mean, o f course, that we should be immoral. I t means that we

should acknowledge our participation i n flawed humanity, with its many varyıng moralities and provincial prejudices, and view o u r own efforts a t morality with a k i n d o f humility, as part o f a universal broth-

erhood o f mutual weakness and forgiveness.“ Why should we believe that this beautiful and forgiving soul is Jesus? I f we confine ourselves t o the Phenomenology, the identity is debatable, and o u r argument can only be that the Jesus-interpretation

renders the discussion unquestionably essential t o the dialectic as a whole and provides an easily understandable bridge t o the chapter on “Religion.” But there is better evidence, i f we once again r e t u r n t o Hegel's early “theological” manuscripts, i n particular, the fourth o f these, “ T h e Spirit o f Christianity and Its Fate.”® Hegel explicitly introduces a picture o f the “beautiful soul” as Jesus.** T h e beautiful

soul is the unity of courage and passivity which “renounces its own mastery of reality, renounces might, and lets something alien, a law o f the judge’s lips, pass s e n t e n c e on him.” The beautiful soul voluntarily gives u p his rights and his possessions, including the right t o sit i n judgment over others and the right t o defend himself ( “ I f any side of h i m is touched. . .;” Le. “ t u r n the other cheek”).® By placing himself above all such rights, Hegel adds, Jesus ultimately destroys himself. T h e beautiful soul withdraws from life a n d the world, “ l i k e a

sensitive plant, he withdraws into himself when he is touched.” “Hence Jesus required his friends t o forsake father, mother, and everything in order t o avoid entry into a league with the profane world.” Jesus renounces everything t o maintain himself, refrains from action and

moral judgment but ultimately m u s t find that such a course becomes more judgmental t h a n the judgments i t condemns ( “ I t sets u p a fate

for them and does n o t pardon them”) until he realizes that forgiveness, n o t judgment, is the only way t o spiritual unity; “ T h y sins are

forgiven thee, n o t a cancellation o f punishment, as an elevation above law and fate.”” This is precisely the same progression that we find i n the Phenome92. The conflict between secular ethics and religious faith is n o t unfamiliar i n religious literature. Kierkegaard, m o s t famously, takes the Abraham a n d Isaac story o f the O l d T e s t a m e n t a n d uses i t t o i l l u s t r a t e t h a t potential conflict a n d declares i t t o b e u n -

resolvable except by faith. ( “ T h e teleological suspension o f the ethical,” i n Fear and Trembling, trans. W. Lowrie ( N e w York: O x f o r d U n i v . Press, 1954)).

93. Early Theo. Mss., pp. 234-44. 94. Ibid. 236, 239. 95. Ibid. 235. 96. I b i d . (cf. L u k e 14: 26).

97. I b i d . 239 (cf. L u k e 7: 48).

The Secret o f Hegel

625

nology, and so we may have some confidence that o u r interpretation was Hegel’s intention as well. B u t , though Hegel’s opinion o f Jesus

has mellowed since his essay i n 1795, he still accuses Jesus of positivity, still has limited regard for h i m as a person, a n d still conceives the

“other-worldliness” of his renunciation a defacto compliance with evil. Ultimately, the beautiful and forgiving soul may provide the “word of reconciliation” that is necessary for our “reciprocal recognition which is Absolute Spirit” (670), and he may represent “God manifested i n the midst o f those who know themselves i n the form o f pure knowledge” (671). B u t the historical Jesus is still a t best an example, a t most a “moment” o f Spirit, and consequently, he disappears from the dialectic a t this point, before we have entered the dialectic of “Religion” proper. Christianity makes other appearances i n the Phenomenology t o o , as “Deism” i n the section on “Enlightenment” and as Kant’s “Postulates of Practical Reason” i n the “Morality” section preceding “Conscience and t h e Beautiful Soul.” B u t r e l i g i o n is n o t a function o f either theoretical reason (as i n Deism) o r practical reason (as i n Kant); i t is a

search for unity which is neither one nor the other, but that ambitious sense o f ultimate identity that Kant had struggled with i n his third Critique and Schelling had made the centerpiece o f his Identity-philosophy. As religion, this ultimate identity is t o be found n o t i n Buddhist pantheism—where one might reasonably look for it—nor i n Spinoza, where i t had already been handed t o us o n a philosophical

platter. I t is t o be found i n “revealed religion,” ostensibly Christianity, despite all o f Hegel's criticisms i n the past.

RELIGION REVEALED

Finally, we can broach the penultimate section o f the Phenomenology,

“Revealed Religion” and the self-recognition o f Spirit as Spirit (755— 8 7 ) . The question is, Is “revealed religion” Christianity? And our answer is, “ I n name only” (though, significantly, Hegel never bothers t o call i t by name). The language is indisputably the language o f Lutheran theology. B u t a t every t u r n , Hegel makes the critical point that the t e r m s have been misunderstood by “picture-thinking,” and that what 1s o r o u g h t to b e a conception o f ourselves as Spirit i n t h e prese n t is misunderstood as a story i n the distant past, along with a p r o m -

ise o f a distant future to come (787).

The simple essence o f revealed religion is the identity of God and 98. C f . Encyclopaedia, V I I , sec. in. B . b . 5 6 4 - 7 1 ; Philosophy of Religion, vol. 3 , Pt. iii,

pp- 1-151.

626

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

man as Spirit. B u t the vehicle o f Hegel’s presentation, as well as the

single m o s t important historical-mythological symbol of this identity, is the Trinity. Thus, as i n “Unhappy Consciousness,” the section “Re-

vealed Religion” is s e t as a concern for a three-part relationship, God, Jesus as Son o f God, and Holy Spirit (758-63). The doctrine of the Trinity has its origin i n Jewish theology. I n the traditional Christian church, the t h i r d term, Spirit, has always been

obscure, vaguely referred t o by Paul and the early writers as God entering into the Holy community through Jesus and the Incarnation. Lutheranism shifted the emphasis t o the Holy Spirit and, obviously, i t is this shift that weighs heavily i n Hegel’s speculations. The debate over the t r u e n a t u r e of the Trinity had been going on for centuries, o f course, and many Christians tended to reject i t alto-

gether on the grounds that it violates the central canon of JudeoChristian monotheism—the singularity and unity o f God. This is Hegels argument too, and, toward the e n d o f his discussion, h e even

pokes fun

at

the very idea o f a “Trinity” (Why

not

a Quaternity, or

even a five-in-One? h e asks (776)). I n Hegel's search for Spirit, however, i t 1s the Father a n d the Son w h o are sacrificed t o the t h i r d t e r m ; G o d is reduced to p u r e t h o u g h t and the Son becomes n o one i n par-

ticular. (Hegel also lampoons the very idea of interpreting God and Jesus in the language o f a “natural relationship,” i.e. father and son (771).) God is One. God is nothing but the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit 1s only i n us; Finite consciousness knows God only t o the e x t e n t t o which God knows himself, spirit 1s nothing other than those who worship h i m . Man knows God only insofar as God knows himself as man. The Spirit o f man, whereby he knows God, is simply the spirit o f God himself.1%

This incarnation o f the divine Being, or the fact that i t essentially a n d directly has the shape o f self-consciousness, is the simple content

o f the absolute religion. I n this religion the divine Being is known as Spirit, or this religion is the consciousness of the divine Being that is Spirit. For Spirit is the knowledge o f oneself i n the externalization of oneself . . . (Phenomenology 759)

Given the long debates and the age-old charges of “heresy” on the proper interpretation o f the Trinity, and given Hegel's rather complete education on the subject and my own lack thereof, there is no point going into the elaborate historical and theological background o f Hegel's discussion except by way o f laying o u t the key alternatives. 99. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 2, p . 327.

100. Ibid. 496.

The Secret of Hegel

627

O n the one hand, there is (more o r less) the traditional view, that the

Trinity 1s indeed a unity, which raises awesome metaphysical and logical questions about how that is possible. There is the weaker Protestant view that Christ

zs G o d incarnate a n d the H o l y Spirit permeates

the community on that basis, and the more heretical view that only God is God, and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, even i f divine, are not. Then there is the blasphemous view—defended by Hegel i n his early writings—that Jesus is just a man, a special man, perhaps, b u t n o t h i n g more. I t is blasphemous because—however honored o r moral this

Jesus may be—he is

not

the Christ o f Christianity. T h e literal incar-

nation, o n either the traditional view o r perhaps the weaker con-

strual, is the very essence o f that religion. B u t this is the view that emerges from the section on “Revealed Religion” i n the Phenomenology, that Jesus is no one i n particular, that i t 1s the Holy Spirit, and n o t some Fatherly God, who n o t only e n t e r s into b u t who

all o f us,

only Jesus. What makes this topic so difficult t o talk about is both its elaborate and perplexing metaphysical history and Hegel's own intentional obnot

scurity o n central points. O n the one hand, one can find the most

pious spokesmen for Christianity asserting theses that sound very much like Hegel (Aquinas on God as Thought, for example, or Luther— whom Hegel quotes and utilizes liberally). O n the other hand, there is little doubt, reading through the traditional language, that Hegel himself is anything but pious. He claims that what he is doing is t o convert the form o f Christian dogma from “picture-thinking” to con-

ceptual truth, but i t is n o t hard t o show that what he saves (as essential content) is n o t Christianity, a n d that the form into which h e converts

i t is wholly compatible with atheistic humanism. For example, Hegel’s analysis o f the Creation is somewhat less than faith-inspiring. This too, 1s an example of “picture-thinking” and n o t t o be taken seriously. Using a familiar Schellingian ploy, Hegel analyzes Spirit i n two ways, as substance becoming self-consciousness, and

as self-consciousness making itself substance.!®! The first, i n standard philosophical jargon, is Aristotle’s metaphysics, hardly Christian and barely theistic; the second, i n religious picture-thinking, is the JudeoChristian conception o f the Creation. B u t for Hegel, (as for Spinoza)

Creation is n o t t o be understood as a temporal coming-into-being, and Spirit i n any case is n o t t o be understood apart from its Creation (755, 774). Hegel’s view o f the Fall, similarly, is an atemporal conceptual recon1 0 1 . Cf. Schelling, System o f Transcendental Idealism, p p . 347-48.

628

Hitching the Highway of Despair

struction (775). H e interprets “innocence” as simply n o t yet knowing oneself, “ t h e Fall” as n o t h i n g more than the recognition o f evil, and

evil as ultimately indistinguishable from (that is, part of the same moral world as) good (776). Hegel also points t o the story o f the fall of the devil as more picture-thinking, and it is a t this point that he blasphemously suggests that Lucifer b e added to the Trinity to yield a Qua-

ternity (776), and perhaps the fallen angels t o o (for “a five-in-one”). I t 1s the “middle term” of the Trinity that exercises Hegel the most; God or “Spirit” is easily reinterpreted as immanent, and the “Holy Ghost” already has precisely the status Hegel wants it t o have, as Spirit effused throughout the community. B u t it is the role o f Jesus that distinguishes Christianity from other religions, and the notion o f “incarnation” which “contradicts all understanding.” !%? Christianity 1s the theory o f the incarnation, and i t is Hegel's interpretation of this mom e n t o u s n o n - e v e n t that shows his humanist colors. Lessing had asked, “How is i t possible that Christianity can base the whole o f its faith o n a n historical accident?”!9% I t is not a pressing

question still, but the problem o f contingency, when applied t o the existence o f a necessary being, seemed t o be incomprehensible indeed. Hegel's answer, i n fact, is found i n Goethe, w h o described this

as an allegory, “a particular considered only as an illustration, as an example o f the universal.”!° A l l m e n a n d women are incarnations o f God. I t is n o t the life of Jesus that 1s significant, b u t his death. I t 1s “ t h e

vanishing of the immediate existence known t o be Absolute Being” i n which “the universal self-consciousness o f the community” is born, “not the individual by himself, but together with the consciousness of the community and what he is for this community, is the complete whole o f the individual spirit” (763). (Findlay: “ I f Christ does n o t go, the H o l y Ghost cannot come t o the worshipping community . . . G o d as a picture must die i n order that G o d as thought may live.” 19%)

Lessing’s question, reiterated later by Kierkegaard, might be restated as the question how the Eternal (Unchangeable) could e n t e r into the time-bound events of history. Hegel's answer here is that the historic e v e n t o f the incarnation and the death of Christ does n o t matter at all; i t is “dead and cannot be known,” “ a n heirloom handed

down by tradition,” a “degraded content” (771). Jesus was n o t a special case b u t only a n example— 102. Philosophy of Religion, vol. 3, p. 76. Cf. Kierkegaard i n CUP: “Christianity is the p a r a d o x ; p a r a d o x a n d p a s s i o n a r e t h e mutual fit . . . F a i t h i s t h e objective uncertainty

along with the repulsion o f the absurd held fast i n the passion o f inwardness.” And, “what is the absurd? T h e absurd is that the eternal truth has come into being i n time”

wos

Cf. Kierkegaard, CUP, 11, 2.

104. I n Maxims and Reflections, t r a n s . Ronnfelt (London: Scott, 1897). 105. Findlay, “Analysis,” p p . 586, 589.

The Secret ofHegel

629

The dead divine Man or human God is in himself the universal selfconsciousness; this he has t o become explicitly for this self-consciousness. ( 7 8 1 )

This passage is o f particular interest, first because i t is one o f the few places that Hegel actually uses the t e r m s “Man” and “God”, and philosophically because the reference t o “this self-consciousness” only makes sense here as a secular reference, n o t t o G o d b u t t o us ( “ M a n ”

i n general). The phrase “ i n himself” here might better be translated as “implicitly” (as i n Baillie) and so we see the continuing theme o f

Hegel's analysis—that Christ is significant as an example, a symbol (in picture-thinking) of the conceptual truth that there is no God but in and through humanity. Furthermore, the traditional Christian teaching that, i n Christianity (unlike Judaism and other religions) God “comes down” t o man (760) is turned around by Hegel t o declare that the identity o f M a n a n d G o d is “ t h e highest essence” o f G o d (ibid.)

and, i n a familiar Hegelian twist, “the lowest 1s the highest” (ibid.). The point again and again becomes clear—there 1s no “alien” God. who reaches down t o us; God is Spirit and Spirit is us, nothing more. (See esp. 759, 761, 763, 779, 781-84.) I t is the death o f G o d , n o t His

historical life, that is o f greater significance. But this is n o t because (as picture-thinking would have it) the death o f Christ is a n all-imp o r t a n t event which signifies the salvation o f all true believers; the

death of God signifies the unimportance of Christ, and the fact that our lives t o o are Holy and Immortal, through the universal Spirit of the community (781-84). Indeed, the m o s t tragic mistake of picture thinking (i.e. Christianity) is the idea that our salvation and unification with the Holy Spirit will come some time i n the distant future, when the truth 1s that the unification of ourselves with Spirit is now i f only we will realize i t (787). B u t i n realizing this, it is doubtful o n what grounds we m i g h t also say that we have become o r are still Christians. W h a t we have done, i n effect, 1s t o t h r o w o u t t h e w h o l e o f t h e B i b l e

and the Judeo-Christian religious tradition, t o reassert an ancient truth that both the Bible and that tradition have always rejected as the ulumate heresy—the view that the human Spirit, in and for itself, is God. I do n o t know how t o pursue this argument much further. The thicket o f theological interpretations o f these matters is such that n o

doubt a good Christian Hegelian could reinterpret these themes once again i n a respectable i f n o t exactly orthodox way.!° I n m y secular impatience, I sometimes find i t necessary t o use a H u m e a n razor, a n d 1 0 6 . “ Y o u m a y a d v a n c e t h e most c o n t r a d i c t o r y s p e c u l a t i o n s a b o u t t h e Christian r e l i g i o n , b u t n o m a t t e r w h a t t h e y m a y b e , n u m e r o u s voices a r e a l w a y s r a i s e d against you, a l l e g i n g t h a t w h a t y o u m a i n t a i n m a y t o u c h o n this o r t h a t s y s t e m o f t h e Christian r e l i g i o n b u t n o t o n t h e Christian r e l i g i o n i t s e l f ” (Positivity-essay, p . 6 7 ) .

630

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

ask, rather bluntly, does Hegel believe anything that a thorough-going atheistic humanist c a n n o t believe—even in the guise of “the Absolute” and “infinity”? Does he believe i n any sense in a God other than ourselves, i n the Divinity o f Christ ın the only sense that can be called “Christian,” i n the literal or a t least symbolic truth or much (if n o t all) o f the Scriptures? T h e answer seems t o be i n every case “no.” What religion reveals for Hegel is our striving for absolute Unity, for “the infinite,” for something beyond the hurly-burly of everyday life and ordinary happiness. But t o think that this is Christianity seems t o me t o be absurd. Hegel is no Christian. The Absolute is in no interesting sense, God.

HEGEL'S H U M A N I S M AS A SPECIES OF PANTHEISM . . . what i n religion was content or a form for presenting an other, is here Self’s own act . . . This last form o f Spirit—the Spirit which a t the same time gives its complete and t r u e c o n t e n t the form of the Self and thereby realizes its Concept . . . i n this realization—this is absolute knowing; i t is Spirit that knows itself i n the form of Spirit, o r a comprehensive knowing. (Phenomenology, 797-98)

I ask that my impatience with theological niceties will be excused as an antidote for the excessive apologetics that have l o n g been forth-

coming from the Hegelian “right,” for example, when Findlay suggests that Hegel m i g h t be called Christian for his appreciation that

something is “god-like i n the facts o f human thought,”!%? or when McTaggart argues a t considerable length that N o religion i n history resembles the Hegelian philosophy so closely as Christianity. . . .The orthodox Christian doctrines are n o t compatible with Hegel's teaching, but they are far closer t o that teaching than the doctrines o f any other religion known t o history.'%®

These euphemisms do n o t hide the fact that “closeness” does

not

compensate for “incompatibility,” a n d the claim that Hegel's ultimate

conception of religion is closer t o Christianity “than any other religion known t o history” is clearly false. Once the incarnation has been purged o f its orthodox mythology, it is clear that Hegel's conception o f religion is far closer t o a great many Eastern religions than t o Christianity, probably closer i n spirit t o Greek folk-religion than t o medieval Catholicism, as close t o Hasidic Judaism as t o traditional 107. Findlay, Hegel, p . 349.

108. McTaggart, Studies in Hegelian Cosmology, pp. 249-50.

The Secret of Hegel

631

Lutheranism, and far closer t o Spinoza’s pantheism than t o the Christianity of the Church and the New Testament. Ultimately, even McTaggart is forced t o conclude that Hegel's philosophy “reveals itself as a n antagonist [ t o Christianity]—an

antagonist a l l t h e m o r e deadly

1%? B u t what is this because i t works n o t by denial but by completion.” “completion” but “aufheben”, i n the same sense that the philosophy o f the Phenomenology “outgrows” Romantic individualism and the fad of phrenology. Similarly, Findlay ultimately admits that Hegel “may be held t o have given merely a ‘persuasive definition’ of ‘religion, . . . and is simply ‘cashing in’ on the widespread approval (of such terms).”!1° T h e same may b e said for his use o f Christian terminology, for i t must

be admitted, and it is time t o do so without apology, that Hegel is no Christian. Toward the end of his examination o f “Hegelianism and Christianity,” McTaggart makes a final attempt to “save” Hegel, i f n o t Hegel's

Christianity— I t is impossible t o believe that i t was a deliberate deception, prompted by a decision for his own interest. There is nothing whatsoever i n Hegel's life which could give us any reason t o accuse h i m o f such conduct.!!!

Less sympathetically, H.S. Macran does accuse Hegel of “self-deceiving sophistry or sordid dishonesty,” and insists that he is “mistermed” as a Lutheran.!'? We may insist that Hegel's conduct was neither “de-

liberate deception” nor “sordid dishonesty,” keeping i n mind his own precocious awareness o f the “unconscious” forces o f reason and his teaching that philosophers typically signify more than they intend. N o t a “deliberate deception,” perhaps, b u t i t is very likely intentional

obscurity. There is no lie i n Hegel's claims, and his atheism is right t h e r e i n t h e text i f we are willing to l o o k for i t . B u t o f course, most o f

his readers were n o t expecting any such conclusions, preferred n o t t o find them, and so, naturally, they did not. I t might be maintained that Hegel, though n o t a Christian, is yet a theist, namely, a member of that elite and controversial group o f philosophers championed by Spinoza called “pantheists.” Stirling, for example, admits that Hegel is a pantheist, “but with a purer reverence for God than pantheism of ordinary views.” ! ! ® The fidelity t o the mast e r may again make us smile; b u t Hegel often argues i n such a fashion; 109. Ibid., p p . 250-51.

110. Findlay, Hegel, p. 131. 1 1 1 . McTaggart, Studies, p . 2 4 5 . 1 1 2 . H . S . M a c r a n , Hegel's Doctrine o f Formal Logic ( O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press, 1 9 1 2 ) .

113. Stirling, The Secret of Hegel, vol. 1, p . 87.

Hitching the Hıghway ofDespair

632

The realm o f Spirit is all-comprehensive; i t includes everything that ever has interested or ever will interest man.!!*

The view that Hegel’s atheism is a form of pantheism raises t w o insuperable problems, however; first, Hegel vociferously denies that he is a pantheist.!!> Second, i t may seriously be doubted that pantheism, the name aside, is a form o f theism a t all. Applying o u r H u m e a n razor, we ask, “ W h a t would a pantheist admit to exist that a n atheist

would not?” But t o say God is the world (“Without the world, there is no God”) is clearly n o t t o make any such admission. A pantheist may approach his w o r l d with a more religious attitude than his straight-

forwardly atheistic colleagues, but n o t with a richer ontology.!!¢ Hegel's relationship t o pantheism was a point o f controversy even

i n his own time. Accordingly, t o avoid the charge (which had recently forced Fichte from his position), Hegel openly attacked the position and attempted t o distinguish i t from his own (in the Encyclopaedia, “Philosophy o f Spirit,” para. 573). I t is worth noting the defensive and at times abrasive tone o f the argument, i n contrast w i t h Hegel's usually casual and often ironic style, a sure sign o f the polemicism that

often accompanies inadequate convictions. Paragraph 573 is among the longest of the Encyclopaedia, another sign that we are finding Hegel a t his most defensive. T h e section is filled with insults, “shallow pantheism and shallow identity,” “ a n attenuated and emptied God,” “ a n indeterminate and abstract God,” “the stale gossip o f oneness o r identity,” and, regarding the pantheist

interpretation of his own thought, “it is only his own stupidity and the falsification due t o such misconceptions which generate the imagination and the allegation o f such pantheism.” Hegel betrays a personal concern (for example, employing considerable use of the first person singular, which is very unusual for him) for the fact that the allegation of pantheism has replaced the charge o f atheism against philosophers (the latter “having too little of God,” the former having 1 1 4 . Lectures o n the Philosophy o f History, I n t r o d u c t i o n ( “ R e a s o n i n H i s t o r y ” ) , p . 20. 115. Encyclopaedia, 573.

116. One might object that this too-Humean criterion eliminates a large class o f theists, namely, those (as i n “plant and animal worship”) who identify some particular object as h a v i n g d i v i n e status (whether this b e cats, lizards, fire, clouds, o r the king).

The theist and the atheist would agree i n ontology but disagree in theology. What is the difference? N o t one o f philosophy but, one might say, o f “attitude,” though this need be n o small m a t t e r . One m i g h t c o n v e r t a mediocre dinner into a feast by saying “grace” over i t , and so t o o there may be all the difference i n life between someone who sees the world as divine a n d someone who sees i t as mere material “substance.” B u t this

only

points t o w h a t

Christianity.

Hegel broadly

c o n c e i v e d as a

“religious”

outlook, n o t t o

theism o r

The Secret of Hegel

633

“too much of him”). “To impute Pantheism instead o f Atheism t o Philosophy is part o f the modern habit of mind,” he accuses, “ o f the new piety and the new theology.” But his argument against pantheism turns on a small technical point, one which may indeed have significance for certain metaphysical disputes but is surely n o t sufficient t o establish Hegel as a n orthodox theist. T h e point r e s t s u p o n the distinction

between “everything” considered as a collection or totality of things (“empirical things, without distinction, whether higher or lower i n the scale . . . each and every secular thing 1s God”) and “everything” considered as a unity, a “universe” (what Heidegger, struggling with the same problem, would call “the worldhood o f the world”). What Hegel denies is that he has ever claimed that “everything is God” i n the first sense. B u t h e clearly holds this view i n the second sense, so long as we Insist that this “everything” is a “subject as well as substance.” I n this holistic sense, Hegel is neither more n o r less o f a pantheist than Spinoza o r Fichte. I n this same section, Hegel curiously defends Spi-

noza’s philosophy as a monotheism, n o t a pantheism, which errs i n its “apprehension o f God as substance, stopping short o f defining substance as subject a n d as spirit.” B u t surely this is a m i s r e a d i n g o f Spinoza, w h o insisted that t h o u g h t was one o f the essential attributes o f the O n e Substance, a n d i t 1s even more unfair to Fichte, w h o shared

with Hegel the notion o f the Absolute as absolute Ego. B u t Hegel’s argument moves quickly from these controversial issues into one of the more notorious r e d herrings o f philosophy, a several-page cele-

bration o f “the

most

poetical, sublime pantheism” o f the Bhagavat-

Gita, complete with several lengthy verses. I n short, Hegel's argument

is a pedant’s delight, advancing his defense with loaded questions (Is G o d a n ass o r a n ox?), impressive b y learned distractions and conscientiously speaking away from the point at issue. B u t Hegel's o w n po-

sition, that of God as Spirit and nothing but Spirit, places him i n the pantheist camp without qualification. And pantheism, as we have argued (despite Hegel's objection) 1s no more than pious atheism. This 1s not, finally, t o deny that Hegel might be considered a man o f spiritual reverence. I n his Logic, for example, he tells us that “Speculative truth means very much the same as what i n special con-

nection with religious experience and doctrines, used t o be called Mysticism.” 7 But Hegel’s mysticism is emphatically without mystery, a n d his reverence is w i t h o u t G o d . Hegel has a certain reverence for thought, for life, above all for humanity. B u t he is not, i n the usual 117. Logic, V I , 82.

Hitching the Highway ofDespair

634

sense, a religious man, much less the “greatest abstract thinker o f

Christianity.” H e is, perhaps, one o f the first great humanısts of Germ a n philosophy. T h a t was Hegel’s secret, and the source o f Kierkegaard’s righteous complaint:

Modern philosophy is neither more nor less than paganism. But it wants t o make i t s e l f a n d u s b e l i e v e t h a t i t i s Christianity.!!®

118. Kierkegaard, Sickness unto Death, trans. W. Lowrie (Princeton: Princeton Univ. Press, 1954). T h u s M a c I n t y r e ( i n seminar, Feb. 1980): “ i f Kierkegaard h a d n ' t existed,

i t would be necessary t o invent him.” Alternatively, “God invented Kierkegaard light o n Hegel.”

to

throw

(Tentative) Conclusion:

“Absolute Knowing” T h e skies were m i n e , a n d so were the Sun and Moon and Stars, a n d

all the World was mine, and I the only Spectator and Enjoyer of it. — Thomas Traherne

The Absolute, Hegel tells us i n the Preface (20) is essentially a result, the final product of a process, the process being the conceptual development described i n the Phenomenology. Accordingly, the final chapter o n “Absolute Knowing” is mercifully short, half o f i t once

again reviewing the whole o f the Phenomenology, i n case we missed 1t the first time, the other half consisting o f an outpouring o f exuberance concerning the self-recognition o f Spirit and, n o doubt, the e n d

o f an extremely painful several months o f pressured work. Since Hegel is mercifully short, we will be t o o . There is no need t o once again explain how i t is that consciousness gropes towards selfconsciousness and self-consciousness stumbles toward recognition o f itself as Spirit until, finally, i n the images of Christianity and the I n carnation, i t discovers its t r u e identity (788-98). Nor is this the place to follow t h r o u g h Hegel's final instructions, that we can really under-

stand all of this only by turning our attention t o history (“Spirit emptied o u t into time” (808)) as well as t o the philosophy o f logic and

(Hegel's advertisement for his works t o come.) Indeed, what is m o s t remarkable about the concluding chapter o f the Phenomenology 1s how little i t says, how empty it is, and how many questions i t leaves unanswered. nature.

. . . from the chalice o f this realm o f spirits, foams forth for H i m his o w n infinitude.

With these words from Schiller, Hegel ends his book. But whatever Hegel's intentions regarding “absolute knowing,” his finale is philosophically unsatisfying. I t chimes with enthusiasm but, unlike Bee635

636

Hitching the Highway of Despair

thoven’s use o f similar themes from Schiller, it ends i n a discord. Good

Christians who go t o Hegel for a s t a t e m e n t of faith may well claim t o find 1t here, but for the philosophical reader who has worked so hard, i t seems, this is b u t a metaphor, a bit o f foam a t the e n d o f the “Bacchanalian revel” Despite Hegel's caveat i n the Preface (9), he has given

us a chalice full o f edification. We know by now what “absolute knowing” consists of, though we shall learn little m o r e o f i t here. I n the narrow context o f post-Kan-

tian idealism and the misleadingly smooth transition (created largely by Hegel himself) from Kant t o Fichte t o Schelling t o Hegel, “Absolute Knowing” and “the Absolute” can be best understood as a technical demand for the correction o f certain difficulties i n Kant, particularly the separation of the “standpoints of Nature and Freedom” a n d the critical refusal to accept as “knowledge” some o f the most

important principles of philosophy—not least among them the idea that the world itself has a purpose and is meaningful and benignly disposed t o humanity. I n the broader cultural context, “the Absolute” 1s the philosophical shadow o f Hélderlin’s grand metaphor, a quasireligious attempt t o understand the underlying unity o f life and its ultimate purposiveness. I n the c o n t e x t of Christian theology and the already extravagant reinterpretations of Christ and the incarnation and the relationship between God and Man that Hegel was learning i n the Stift, one can indeed view the whole o f Hegels philosophy as a

rethinking o f Christianity and the Absolute as God. I n the politicalcultural context defined by Napoleon, the French Revolution, Schiller, and Goethe, one can plausibly view Hegel's Phenomenology as a plea for unity. I n the face o f the new romanticism, which had become quite influential i n Jena i n the first years o f the century, one can understand the Phenomenology as a tour de force i n defense o f reason and articulation, a demonstration that one could indeed talk a t length and

intelligibly about the ultimate topics—God, the meaning o f life, the unity o f man and nature—all summarized i n a word, “the Absolute.” As a philosophical thesis, one hesitates t o make even the crudest c o n c l u d i n g a t t e m p t t o summarize t h i s l a b y r i n t h i n e w o r k as a s i n g l e

argument, m u c h less as a demonstration o r a “proof,” and yet, with

all of the usual warnings, I think such a summary might be tried. I f one were to ask—“What d o all o f the arguments a n d demonstrations

of the Phenomenology add u p to?”—the answer surely c a n n o t be, “absolute knowing,” however that pretentious phrase is t o be interpreted. But the various arguments and allegories, refutations and reductions t o absurdities o f the various “forms o f consciousness” do add up; i t is a

largely negative but by n o means unimpressive thesis: n o philosoph-

(Tentative) Conclusion

637

ical viewpoint, n o life-style o r conceptual framework, n o isolated argument o r demonstrative proof, n o matter how sound, n o matter how persuasive, can ever be adequate by itself. For every premise o r set o f

premises, there is a c o n t e x t and a set o f presuppositions that has been taken for granted; for every argument, there is a perspective that has n o t been challenged; for every moral principle o r ethical argument,

there is a social milieu and a s e t o f cultural needs and a history that provides the stage upon which such exercises are intelligible. I n short, the purpose o f the Phenomenology is to show t h a t nothing can be left out.

I t is, i n the pop-jargon o f the late 20th century, a defense o f holism, a grand demonstration that all o f our principles and arguments and philosophical “methods” and “schools” and “movements” are “abstractions” within a larger context, and make sense only within that

The logic o f Hegel's works has been called “the logic o f passion,” an exciting idea, but probably without much meaning. I would rather suggest (hopefully with some meaning, i n context) that Hegel's logic, a t least in the Phenomenology, is a logic of inadequacy, a logic whose context.

whole point is to r e m i n d us always o f o u r limited vision, our unexposed presuppositions, o u r unwillingness to see the other side until

forced t o . This explains rather clearly, I would propose, why the last chapter o f the Phenomenology is so short and so unsatisfying; it does not state a final thesis so much as i t tells us that there can be n o final

thesis, only a certain humility, which, as i n Kant and other German writers (culminating i n Nietzsche) is stated with a kind o f cosmic Ar-

roganz. Accepting this multidimensional sweep o f Hegel's great book, however, does not yet explain the exhilaration with which the book ends, n o r does it begin t o answer the many questions Hegel leaves unan-

swered, which in fact continue t o define the problems o f philosophy today. As for the sense o f exhilaration, this has been too handily translated into a quasi-Christian sense o f revelation b y many o f He-

gels British and German interpreters, t o be distinguished from Spinoza’s pantheism but identified with Christianity in manners too subtle t o be exhilarating—or plausible. I n fact, religious interpretations aside, it is a n extremely uncomplicated, untechnical, and familiar emotion

that Hegel is expressing here. I t is, i n a banal phrase, that life is good and meaningful. I t is, as Martin Luther King once p u t it, that glorious

sense o f “having been t o the mountain top”—of seeing the whole panorama o f human joys and sufferings and feeling edified and heartened by the view. Mighty t o m e s have been written about Hegel's Absolute and “the identity o f Thought and Being,” b u t i t seems to m e that one has missed

638

Hitching the

Highway o f Despair

the simple grandeur o f Hegel's book altogether i f one is n o t left with that old rationalist’s sense, that passionate sense, that the world is ultimately meaningful. Hegel's vision is a world that is moving toward a n end, a goal, a n ideal state, a n ideal state which begins w i t h o u r

knowledge o f ourselves, “thought thinking itself” in the old Aristotelean terminology, “Spirit recognizing itself as Spirit” i n Hegel's and Hölderlin’s language. I t is, i n a simple-minded word, a n exuberant sense o f optimism—the belief that “the actual is rational and the ra-

tional 1s actual,” the confidence that humanity can be a harmonious whole w i t h itself a n d with its w o r l d , and that this need not be merely

a matter o f hope o r faith but knowledge, indeed absolute knowledge. I t is this exuberant sense o f optimism that Schopenhauer—Hegel’s bitter but then unknown antagonist—would spend his life rejecting. I t was an earlier version of optimism, by Leibniz, which had inspired the French philosophe Voltaire t o exercise his wit i n Candide. And indeed, it is n o t hard t o argue from our more cynical 20th-century vantage point, that Schopenhauer a n d Voltaire make a far better case for

pessimism than Leibniz and Hegel do for their optimism. One might say that both positions are a matter o f perspective—and perhaps of infantile breast feeding experiences as well—rather than philosophical positions t o be proven o r refuted. B u t this does none o f these great thinkers justice, for they did indeed see themselves as arguing these viewpoints and refuting the others, as showing that the world was meaningful or meaningless. At the end of the Phenomenology, what we “ k n o w ” 1s a sense o f exhausted exultation rather than the o u t c o m e

o f a long-winded proof. Nevertheless the whole o f the Phenomenology, whatever else it is, m u s t be appreciated as a necessarily long-winded

demonstration o f the essential rationality and acceptability o f the human world. I n this study, I have argued a t length against the traditional interpretation o f Hegel as a religious—that is, Christtan—thinker. B u t in these final comments o n “absolute knowing”, it is worth once again

reminding ourselves that the rejection o f religions does n o t mean the rejection o f all religiousness. Indeed, what Hegel is all about—as J.N. Findlay points o u t i n his study—is just that sense o f awe and appreciation for life and reflection on life that has always defined the richest religious experiences, within or without any organized conceptual or institutional framework which might be designated a “religion.” Hegel's emphasis on Spirit in the Phenomenology is just this vision of life as a whole, a heartfelt romantic appeal t o rejuvenate the “spirit” that Christianity sometimes tries t o teach us, though Hegel is neither a Romantic nor a Christian. H i s animated sense oflife has little o f the Gothic mysteriousness o f his poetic colleagues (indeed, b y the Logic,

(Tentative) Conclusion

639

even “ S p i r i t ” h a d given way to the “ I d e a ” ) . A n d Hegel's Spirit has

nothing whatever o f the “other-worldly” about it, much less the details o f salvation and the Resurrection which define Christianity i n all o f its variations. B u t Hegel is keenly aware, as we m u s t be too, o f that

disastrous dichotomy between the material and the spiritual, which may be professionally summarized i n the Kantian division o f “Nature and Spirit” b u t is m o r e familiar t o us i n everyday life as the routine deadening o f o u r world and the increased isolation o f what we call

“spiritual matters” t o the minimum allotment of time in our busy weekly schedules. Hegel's attack on Enhghtenment “utility” (today read “managerial efficiency”) was first o f all a n attack o n the reduction o f

life t o trifles, the unreflective pursuit o f ill-defined “success” coupled only hypocritically (no m a t t e r how sincerely felt) with an eviscerated sense o f institutionalized religion which alone provides us with a few minutes t o think about (or numbly brood about) such all-important matters as life and death and the meaning o f it all.

The Phenomenology, whatever else it is, 1s an epic “Yea-saying” t o life—as Nietzsche later comes t o call such enthusiasm—Ilife with all o f its conflicts and tragedies, n o t on the basis o f abstract rationalizations as in Leibniz, so easily lampoonable by Voltaire, and n o t on the basis o f faith i n some distant resolution, as i n “other-worldly” Christianity. Hegel’s optimism, is a sympathetic (which is n o t t o say “uncritical”) look a t the whole o f human history and experience, with all o f its brutality a n d stupidity, i n o r d e r t o see what good underlies o u r every

thought and every action. H e finds it i n the development o f that holistic sense o f unity he calls “Spirit.” Recognizing this, in t u r n , is what he calls “Absolute Knowing”—which does n o t mean “knowing everything.” I t rather means—recognizing one’s limitations. But this in itself can be a liberating, even exhilarating vision. I n the words o f H e -

gel’s unacknowledged historicist heir, Nietzsche; . . . precisely because we seek knowledge, let us n o t b e ungrateful to such resolute reversals o f accustomed perspectives a n d valuations

which the spirit has, with apparent mischievousness and futility, raged against itself for so long: to see differently i n this way for once, t o want to see differently, is n o small discipline a n d preparation o f the

intellect for its future “objectivity”—the latter understood n o t as “contemplation without i n t e r e s t ” (which i s nonsensical absurdity), b u t as t h e ability t o control o n e ’ s P r o a n d C o n a n d t o d i s p o s e o f t h e m , s o t h a t o n e k n o w s h o w t o e m p l o y a variety o f p e r s p e c t i v e s a n d aftective interpretations i n t h e s e r v i c e o f knowledge.

Henceforth, my dear philosophers, let us be on guard against the old conceptual fiction t h a t p o s i t e d a “pure, will-less, painless, t i m e l e s s knowing s u b j e c t . ”

dangerous

1. F r i e d r i c h N i e t z s c h e , Genealogy o f Morals, t r a n s . K a u f m a n n ( N e w Y o r k : R a n d o m

House, 1967) 111, 12.

Thispage intentionally left blank

Index

A b r a m s , M.H., 198 Absolute, the, 14, 2 7 , 34, 40-41, 85, 8 9 , 92, 97-100, 1 0 3 - 5 , 187-193, 248, 260, 2 7 4* 377, 3 8 1 - 8 3 , 563, 566, 579, 605, 611, 621, 6 3 0 , 6 3 6 abstract/-ed, 165, 2 7 4 activity,

274

B e n t h a m , J., 4 9 9

Berger, Thomas, 639 Berkeley, G., 10, 75, 186, 340, 380, 4 1 0 B e r l i n , Isaiah, 2 0 Beyond Good and Evil, 137

Bhagavad-gita, 633 Bible, the, 4 5 0 Bildung, 2 2 , 2 4 , 42, 5 2 - 5 3 , 82, 113, 123, 140, 146, 197, 2 0 6 - 7 , 219, 241-42, 244, 247, 4 9 6 Boethius, 395 Boscovich, R., 370 Bradley, F . H . , 258, 325 B r e n t a n o , F., 5 9 5 Brinton, Crane, 563 B u r k e , E d m u n d , 57

actual, 257, 2 7 4 - 7 5 Adam, 26 “Addresses to the German N a t i o n , ” 9 6

“Against the Mathematicians,” 463 Anaxagoras, 2 6 9 - 7 0 Andersen, H a n s Christian, 218 Anscombe, G . E M . , 3 1 6 Antigone, 41, 228, 494, 534, 5 4 0 , 546 Antigone, 538, 5 4 0 , 5 4 6 - 5 2 , 5 7 2 Aquinas, St. Thomas, 627 Arcesilans, 4 6 2 - 6 3 Aristotle, 2 4 - 2 5 , 56, 70, 73, 121, 144, 160, 1 7 3 - 7 5 , 178, 180, 193, 232, 248, 2 5 2 285, 340, 343, 3 6 1 - 6 2 , 367, 371, 379, 387, 395, 399, 405, 4 5 8 - 5 9 , 474, 481, 4 8 6 - 8 8 , 490-91, 5 0 1 , 504, 534—

Cage, J o h n , 2 2 1

C a l v i nJ., 453 Camus, A . , 101, 327, 394, 504 Candide, 2 4

Capra, Frank, 186 Carlyle, T., 563

37 a r t ( t h e P G as), 2 2 0 - 2 8

Carneades, 4 6 2 - 6 3 Carroll, Lewis, 345 categories: Aristotle’s 255; Kant’s 73, 75— 77, 9 5 , 255

aufheben, 2 7 5

Augustine, 4 6 6 - 6 8 , 474 Austin, J.C., 3 2 2 a u t o n o m y (rational), 5 5 , 6 9 , 74, 78, 8 0 , 125

Catholicism, certainty,

275

Cervantes, 175 C h ’ e n g 1, 3 1 9

Bakunin, Michael, 107

Barraclough, Geoffrey, 48

Chesterfield (Lord), 554-55

Barth, Karl, 6 2 Beautiful Soul, the, 6 2 2 - 2 5 Beethoven, L . , 1 1 4

Christianity, 47, 58, 6 0 - 6 3 , 1 2 5 - 3 5 , 138, 452, 457, 466, 4 6 9 , 488, 5 8 1 - 9 1 , 5 9 4— 9 5 , 6 1 1 , 6 1 3 , 614—30

Begreifen, 2 6

Being and Nothingness, 159, 196, 322, 428, 458 Being a n d Time, 3 8 9 - 9 0 , 399, 4 3 8

*Page numbers i n boldface are i n the glossary following Chapter 5.

466, 618

Ceres, 137

Chrysippus, 459, 460—61 Cicero, 4 6 2 Classicism, 5 0 - 5 1 comprehension, 275 Concept, t h e (der Begriff), 13, 25, 54, 160, 1 6 4 - 6 5 , 167, 189, 2 2 3 - 2 4 , 247, 253,

641

642

Index

260, 275-76; fluidity o f 165—67, 275— 76; rigor o f 229

Empedocles, 3 7 0

Empiricism (British), 245, 269

concrete, 2 7 6 conditioned, 2 7 6

Encyclopaedia o f the Philosophical Sciences,

Confessions (Augustine), 467 Confessions (Rousseau), 492

Engels, F., 107, 179, 384 English Revolution, 3 5 E n l i g h t e n m e n t , 1 8 - 1 9 , 24, 26, 35, 45—

conscience, 5 7 5ff. consciousness, 167, 2 7 6 - 7 7 , 388, 3 9 2

Copernican Revolution (Kant's), 366 Copernicus, N., 387 Copleston, F., 234 C r e o n , 540

“Critical Journal o f Philosophy,” 107, 149 Critique of A l l Revelation, 186, 117

Critique of Judgment, 49, 53,72, 78, 81— 83, 99, 103, 404 Critique o fPractical Reason, 72, 79, 83,

117, 126, 356, 487, 523, 561 Critique of Pure Reason, 72ff., 76, 80, 82— 83, 87, 158, 160, 314

Dancing Wu-Li Masters, 186 D a n t e , 159 Darwin, C., 104

David, Jacques-Louis, 43 “Death o f Sardanapalus,” 222 Declaration o f Independence, 4 6 deism, 604 Delacroix, F., 220, 4 7 9 Descartes, R . , 10, 6 9 - 7 0 , 73, 75, 91, 199, 225, 293, 392, 4 1 8 - 1 9 , 429, 4 3 1 - 3 3 , 439, 559, 5 8 2 determine/-ate, 277 develop/-ment, 277

Dewey, John, 11, 176, 317

3, 157, 462, 581, 585, 594, 603, 632

47, 56, 60, 62, 65, 69, 71, 81, 115, 123, 149, 168, 251, 488-89, 496, 551-59, 639; English, 47, 6 6 ; French, 47, 78,

113, 122-23, 128, 589; German, 7, 45, 47-48, 51, 115, 589 Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, 292 Epictetus, 4 5 7 - 6 0

Epicurus, 501-02 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 234, 429 Essays in Critical Realism, 322 essence, 278 Eudaimonia, 174, 178-79, 474 experience, 1 0 - 1 1 , 278

“Faith and Knowledge,” 148-49, 150— 51, 585 Faust, 38, 42, 44, 47, 88, 159, 203, 221, 457, 505, 5 3 9 Ferguson, A d a m , 1 1 1 Feuerbach, L., 6 3 , 226, 329, 331, 4 5 2 Feyerabend, P., 3 6 0

Gall, Franz Joseph, 4 1 2 Garve, Christian, 115 Gassendi, 4 2 1

dialectic, 2 1 5 - 2 0 , 2 2 8 - 3 5 , 2 6 7 - 7 3 , 2 7 7 78

Geist. See “Spirit”

Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, 61

German Ideology, The, 564

D i d e r o t , D., 555 Dilthey, W., 140, 1 9 4 - 9 5 Discourse on Method, 3 0 4 Divine Comedy, 159

Glockner, Hermann, 238 Goethe, J., 3 7 - 3 9 , 4 3 - 4 4 , 4 6 - 4 7 , 51, 52, 6 0 , 6 2 , 8 1 , 88, 115, 137, 198, 203, 405, 457, 539, 588, 611, 622, 628 Goodman, Nelson, 373 Great Chain o f Being, The, 2 3 4 Greeks, 118, 131, 133, 153, 443, 452, 516, 542, 546, 589, 6 0 4 - 6 , 608ff. G u i g n o n , Charles, 604

Don Juan, 397, 501, 503-5, 574 Don Quixote, 175 Dostoevsky, F., 175

Dragons of Eden, The, 409, 423 D u f r e n n e , M . , 385

E c k h a r d t , M., 4 6 Einstein, A., 361, 370, 374, 435 E l i o t , T.S., 238 Emile, 111, 4 9 2

Geisteswissenschaften, 5 9

Hamann, J., 4 6 Hamlet, 6 1 0

Harris, H.S., 459, 609 Haym, R., 7

643

Index Hebrews, 18, 467, 6 0 6 h e d o n i s m , 498ff., 5 0 7 - 0 8

Hegelian ethics, 480 Heidegger, M., 202, 306, 322, 338, 389— 90, 395, 400, 409, 438, 450, 575, 633 H e m e , H e i n r i c h , 429, 5 8 2 - 8 3 Heisenberg, W., 187

Hempel, C.G., 371 Heraclitus, 14, 163, 345, 3 7 0 Herder,J., 1 8 - 1 9 , 4 0 - 4 1 , 112, 158, 169 Herod, 614 Hinduism, 603 historicism, 15 History o f Western Philosophy, 3 2 5

Hobbes, T., 152, 427, 4 4 1 - 4 3 , 451, 485 d ’ H o l b a c h , B a r o n , 258, 5 5 6 Hölderlin, F., 4 4 , 5 2 - 5 3 , 5 9 - 6 0 , 7 0 , 100, 1 1 1 - 1 2 , 118, 1 3 6 - 4 0 , 197, 405, 459, 593, 604, 636 Homer, 163, 608 Hull, Clark, 4 1 8

humanism, 579; as pantheism, 630-34 Hume, D . , 46, 6 1 , 6 5 , 6 9 , 7 1 - 7 2 , 168, 248, 270, 292, 372-73, 380, 429-31, 457, 462, 465 Husserl, E . , 9 , 296, 389, 595

Hyppolite, J., 237, 506

Jansenism, 511-12 Jenenser Realphilosophie, 515, 5 1 8

Jesus, 125-231, 145, 178, 457, 488, 578, 590, 622-25, 627-30 J o b ,93 Joyce, James, 228 Judaism, 1 2 7 - 2 9 , 1 4 2 - 4 3 , 468, 557,

600-601

Kafka, F., 55 Kant, 1., 4, 8 , 1 0 - 1 1 , 1 9 - 2 1 , 39, 49, 5 2 , 57, 5 9 , 7 0 - 8 2 , 100, 103, 142, 149, 153, 175, 180, 185, 225, 228, 262, 284, 314, 351, 356, 3 6 3 - 6 6 , 375, 380, 402, 409— 10, 4 6 6 - 6 7 , 5 1 4 , 517, 552; antinomies, 246, 270, 366, 3 8 3 - 8 4 ; categorical i m perative, 2 , 7 9 - 8 0 , 126; o n dialectic, 2 3 ; o n the ego, 200f., 2 5 3 - 5 4 , 385— 8 6 ; o n Enlightenment, 4 6 - 4 7 , 562— 6 3 ; o n ethics/morality, 481, 4 8 3 - 8 4 , 487, 4 8 9 - 9 0 , 493, 497, 5 2 2 - 3 0 , 564f., 5 9 2 ; o n religion, 6 , 7 , 6 1 , 82, 556, 5 9 2 ;

o n teleology, 404; o n the thing-initself, 2 9 5 - 9 9 , 379; o n transcendental d e d u c t i o n , 205, 3 5 1 - 5 2 , 3 5 4 - 5 5 K a u f m a n n , Walter, 4 , 156, 163, 211, 215, 238, 242, 258, 267

Keats, J.,178

“I” as the Principle ofPhilosophy, The, 408 idea, 2 7 9 idealism, 6 6 - 7 0 , 185; absolute, 186, 195; G e r m a n , 8 1 - 8 5 , 109, 200, 272, 482; subjective, 186, 4 0 6

Ideas Towards a Philosophy of Nature, 401, 407 identity o f indiscernibles, the, 3 4 4 Idiot, The, 567 immediate,

166, 279

individual/-ity, 280, 5 1 4 - 2 2 Individuals, 438, 4 4 1 infinite, 2 8 0 - 8 1 , 378 in-itself, 2 7 9 - 8 0 intellectual i n t u i t i o n , 253 internal p r i n c i p l e , 14, 2 8 0 Introductory Lectures o n Psychoanalysis, 1 9 7

intuition/-ism, 2 8 0 i n v e r t e d world, 3 7 6 - 8 5 Islam, 6 0 2 - 3

Kierkegaard, S., 28, 107, 120, 207-9, 218, 467, 474, 501, 557, 574, 580, 586, 596, 614, 621-22, 628 K i n g , M a r t i n Luther, 637

knowledge, 281 Kojéve, Alexandre, 426 de Kooning, W., 223 Kristopherson, Kris, 455 K r o n e r , R i c h a r d , 140 K u h n , Thomas, 179, 387

L a m a r c k , Chevalier d e , 415 L a Nouvelle Héloise, 122 Lauer, Q u e n t i n , 334, 3 4 9 Lavoisier, A n t o i n e L . , 375 Lectures on Aesthetic Education, 5 3 Lectures on Aesthetics, 6 0 7 - 8 Lectures o n the History o f Philosophy, 7 0 ,

431, 434, 462, 5 8 5 - 8 6 Lectures o n the Philosophy o f Religion, 585,

Jacobi, F r i e d r i c h H e i n r i c h , 8 4 , 9 8 , 149, 169, 189, 250, 324, 379, 600, 6 2 2 James, William, 11, 176

594, 5 9 6 - 9 8 , 6 0 0 - 6 0 1 , 6 0 7 - 8 , 613 Leibniz, G.W., 9 , 6 5 , 6 7 - 6 9 , 81, 9 3 , 168, 181, 197, 199, 222, 283, 340, 342—45, 367, 370, 410, 4 2 9 - 3 0 , 638

644

Index

Lessing, G . , 40, 111, 115, 133, 5 5 6 - 5 7 , 564, 599, 628 Lukacs, G . , 138 Luther, M . , 6 1 , 6 5 , 163, 178, 453, 467

Macaran, H.S., 6 3 1 MacBeth, 6 1 0 Machiavelli, N . , 227 Maclntyre, A , 16, 360, 5 1 1 M c L u h a n , Marshall, 2 2 ] McTaggart, G . , 335, 5 8 8 , 6 3 0 - 3 1 Marat, J . P , 559, 5 6 1 M a r x , Karl, 20, 63, 107, 115, 179, 226, 234, 384, 427, 443, 4 5 1 - 5 3 , 5 1 5 - 1 7 , 520, 564, 5 8 3 M a r x , Werner, 7 Masefield, J o h n , 6 0 M e a d , G.H., 4 3 8 mediation, 281

Nicomachean Ethics, 173, 178, 272, 486— 8 7 , 4 9 0 , 499, 5 3 4 Niebuhr, Reinhold, 227 Nietzsche, F., 135, 137, 204, 435, 439— 40, 467, 469, 487, 498, 533, 588-89, 596, 0 0 6 - 7 , 612, 6 1 9 , 6 3 4 N o a h , 466 noumenon/-a/-al, 78, 158, 253, 2 9 7 - 9 8 nous, 189 Novalis, 85, 9 8 , 252, 577, 6 2 2 - 2 3

object, 282, 3 0 9 Odin, 134 Olds, James, 5 0 1 Open Society and Its Enemies, The, 383, 480 Outlines o fPyrrhonism, 4 6 3

Mephistopheles, 38, 93, 611

Panaeuus, 4 5 9 Parmenides, 379 particular, 282 Pascal, B . , 5 1 1

Merleau-Ponty, M . , 7 , 28, 101, 2 0 2 - 3

Pelagius, 619

Meditations (Descartes), 304 Mendelssohn, M., 115, 129, 5 5 6 - 5 7

Metaphysical Foundations o f Natural Science,

320

Metaphysics (Aristotle), 160, 193 Metaphysics of Morals, 4 8 9 - 5 2 8 , 5 6 8

Metternich, 17, 488 Midas, 397 Mill, J.S., 204, 252, 430, 4 9 9 Miller, A . V . 525, 602 moment, 281 monad(s), 6 8 , 197, 284, 3 4 2 - 4 3 , 4 2 9 - 3 0

Monadology, 429 Moore, G.E., 176 Muller, Gustav Emil, 243

N a p o l e o n , 17, 19, 33, 3 6 - 3 7 , 43, 47, 52, 113, 497 n a t u r a l consciousness, 3 0 2 - 3 , 3 2 0 - 3 3 9 N a t u r a l Law, 149, 1 5 1 - 5 2 necessary, 15, 282 necessity ( o f H e g e l i a n movements), 12— 13, 25, 206/f.,209, 2 2 0 - 2 1 , 2 2 5 - 2 7 , 242, 350

negation: determinate, 320, 348, 353; ındeterminate, 320, 348, 358 negative/-ity, 165, 257, 282 Newton, I . , 4 6 - 4 7 , 6 8 , 71, 8 3 , 174, 320, 361, 367, 3 6 9 - 7 0 , 374, 387, 404 New Yorker, 2 2 4 - 2 5

“Perception,” 3 3 9 - 4 6

phenomenology, 158 Philosophical Investigations, 333 Philosophy of Nature, 411, 413, 419, 487 Philosophy of Right, 152, 481, 490, 519, 541, 544, 5 5 0 - 5 1

phrenology, 412 physiognomy, 412 Picasso, P., 2 3 3 - 3 2 Pietism, 5 1 0 - 1 3 Pilate (Pontus), 175, 338 Planck, Max, 372 Plato, 2 5 , 52, 70, 75, 160, 251, 320, 340, 375, 377, 379, 441, 467, 481, 526, 539, 541, 5 8 2 Poetry, 5 1 - 5 7 Polis, 5 3 , 111, 118, 131, 153, 4 8 6 - 8 8 , 516, 539, 5 4 6 - 4 7 Polyclitus, 605 Polynices, 540 d e P o m p a d o u r (Madame), 555 Popper, Karl, 207, 359, 383

Port Royale, 512 Posidonius, 459

positivity, 282 “Positivity o f Christianity, The,” 589 practice, 5354. Principia Matematica (Newton), 174 Problems o fPhilosophy, The, 3 2 1

645

Index Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics, 363 Protagoras, 7 4 Protestantism, 149, 6 1 9

Ptolemy, 387 Pyrrho, 457, 462

Pythagoras, 441

Quine, W.V.O., 9, 333, 335

Rameau’s Nephew, 555 rational, 282 real/-ity, 282 reason, 1 8 0 - 8 1 , 2 8 2 406, 474, 485, 495 Red and (the) Black, The, 5 2 2 reflection, 2 8 2 - 8 3 , 317 Reformation, 6 5 , 6 9 , 118, 4 6 7 regulative ideas, 5 4 , 8 1 - 8 2 , 103, 219, 250

Reign o f Terror, 228, 559-64 R e i n h o l d , K a r l L e o n a r d , 8 4 - 8 6 , 96, 1 0 7 - 8 , 161, 198, 204, 255, 262 Religion within the Bounds o f Reason Alone,

8 1 , 118, 126, 5 5 3 , 5 6 1 Rembrandt, 223 Renaissance, 7 1 Republic (Plato), 52, 9 7 Robespierre, 118, 203, 5 5 9 - 6 0 , 5 6 2 - 6 3 Romans, 4 5 2 Romantics/-1sm, 5 , 4 9 - 5 1 , 8 1 - 8 2 , 96-97, 1 6 8 - 6 9 , 251, 5 0 6 - 1 0 , 577-78 Rorty, R., 5 , 9

Rosen, Stanley,

8

Rousseau, J.J., 19, 4 4 - 4 5 , 5 0 , 5 8 , 96, 111, 118, 122, 132, 152, 222, 427, 441, 443, 449, 451, 456, 435, 491, 493, 505, 5 0 9 - 1 0 , 515, 539, 5 4 1 - 4 3 , 550-52, 555-56, 560-62 Russell, B e r t r a n d , 180, 204, 321, 325— 26, 328, 334, 336, 4 1 0

Sagan, Carl, 409, 423 Santayana, G . , 3 2 2 Sartre, J.P., 7 , 2 6 - 2 8 , 101, 159, 196, 322, 4 2 7 - 2 8 435, 4 4 1 - 4 2 , 444, 4 4 6 , 449, 458 Scepticism, 228, 347 Schacht, Richard, 267 Schelling, F., 22, 5 2 , 5 5 , 5 7 - 5 8 , 78, 82, 8 3 , 9 6 - 1 0 7 , 138, 146, 175, 189, 198, 227, 248, 250, 252, 257, 268, 324, 367,

392, 401, 403, 406, 407, 411, 413, 418, 447, 4 5 2 - 5 3 , 472, 604 Schiller, F., 19, 44, 5 1 , 5 2 - 5 3 , 57, 111, 138, 489, 5 1 6 , 5 6 4 , 5 8 8 , 6 0 6 , 635

Schlegel: Friedrich, 49, 252; F. and August, 85, 97-98, 577 Schleiermacher, F., 8 5 , 9 8 , 250, 595 Schopenhauer, A., 2 5 , 101, 195, 315, 607, 638 Science (Wissenschaft), 173, 1 7 8 - 7 9 , 283, 303, 5 2 0

Science of Logic, 3, 178, 197, 200, 221, 238, 269-71, 291, 3 2 3 - 3 4 , 337, 371, 3 7 6 - 7 7 , 383, 402, 471, 581, 633, 639

Secret of Hegel, The, 580 Self-Certainty, 429ff. self-consciousness, 283, 4 3 5 - 4 3 , 455ff. self-identity, 2 8 3 - 8 4 self-knowledge, 3 1 1 - 1 4 Sellars, R.W., 3 2 2 Seneca, 4 5 8 , 4 6 0 - 6 1 Sense and Sensibilia, 3 2 2 Sense-Certamty. See n a t u r a l consciousness Sextus Empiricus, 457, 459, 4 6 2 - 6 3

Singer, Isaac B., 235 Sisyphus, 101 Sittlichkeit, 147, 1 5 2 - 5 3 , 482, 4 8 4 - 8 5 , 522-46, 569, 612

Skepticism, 461-65 S m i t h , A d a m , 111, 4 5 3 Social Contract, The, 1 2 2 , 4 9 1 , 541, 5 5 1 52, 5 6 0 - 6 2 Socrates, 74, 1 3 0 - 3 1 , 441, 450, 608, 611-12 Sophocles, 5 4 6 , 6 0 5 Sorrows o f Young Werther, The, 37, 5 2 , 9 7 , 114

Speculation, 284 Spinoza, B . , 2 5 , 6 2 , 85, 88, 102, 199, 225, 256, 395, 469, 509, 631, 633 “Spirit” (Geist), 6 , 7, 33, 38, 41, 5 6 , 102, 142, 181, 1 8 4 - 8 5 , 252, 265, 284, 438, 449, 485, 495, 5 6 2 - 6 3 , 593, 627, 638— 4 0 ; Spirit o f a r t , 603, 6 0 4 - 1 4 ; Spirit o f

culture (self-alienated), 149; Spirit o f “folk,” 47; Spirit as God, 197, 584, 628, 6 3 3 ; Spirit o f N a t u r e , 5 7 - 6 0 , 104, 138;

Spirit and self-identity, 196-203; Spirit a n d world, 5 0 , 138, 252, 2 6 4

“Spirit of Christianaty and Its Fate, The,” 140, 147, 466, 489, 5 7 8 , 590, 624 St. Genet: A c t o r a n d Martyr, 4 4 2

646

Index

Stace, Walter, 187 Stendahl, 328, 522 S t i r l i n g , J.H., 7, 580, 6 3 1 Stoicism, 228, 4 5 7 - 6 1 S t o p p a r d , Tom, 345, 5 9 3

Stranger, The, 327 Strawson, P.F., 2 0 2 - 3 , 438, 4 4 1

“Structure o f Philosophic Language i n the ‘Preface’ o f Hegel's Phenomenology, The,” 237

Universal, 286; u n c o n d i t i o n e d , 165, 3 7 8 Utilitarianism, 499

Valhalla, 134

Van Gogh, V , 221 Vocation o fM a n , The, 425, 429, 434, 4 6 1 Volk, 47, 134, 146, 181 Voltaire, 7, 2 4 , 50, 124, 5 5 - 5 6 , 6 3 8

Stiirm und Drang ( S t o r m a n d Stress), 37,

40, 52, 96-97, 134-35 subject, 2 8 4 substance, 2 8 4

Walsh, W.H., 4 8 0 War and Peace, 174

Sufficient Reason, Principle of, 181

Wheeler, John, 186-87

Summum Bonum, 80, 101, 115, 356, 569—

W h i t m a n , Walt, 194 whole, 2 8 6

70, 574 system, 284-85 System der Sittlichkeit, 147, 5 2 2

System of Ethical Life, 494 System of Ethics, 447, 575

System of Philosophy of Nature, 407 System o f Transcendental Idealism, 4 5 3

Wigner, Eugene, 186 Wilhelm Meister, 198 Wissenschaftslehre, 8 7 , 8 9 , 9 5 , 102, 215, 221, 262, 391, 408, 430, 434, 439, 4 5 2 - 5 3 , 565 Wittgenstein, 1 7 5 - 7 6 , 194, 202, 316, 326, 333, 352, 4 3 8

Wolff, Christian, 9 Tao, the, 640

Tao of Physics, The, 186 Taylor, Charles, 6 , 3 1 5 - 1 6 , 329, 334, 3 4 9 - 5 3 , 357, 546 Telos/teleology, 105, 160, 285, 404, 405 Thales, 4 4 1 Theaetetus, 3 2 0 things-in-themselves, 2 9 5 - 3 0 2 third m a n , T h e , 375 thought, 2 8 5

Worldsoul as a Hypothesis for Physics,

146, 407

Yaqui (Indians), 16

Zeus, 1 3 7 , 6 1 1 Zoroastrianism, 6 0 0 - 6 0 1

The,