The Enigma of Fichte’s First Principles 9789004459786, 9004459782

Citation preview

The Enigma of Fichte’s First Principles (Das Rätsel von Fichtes Grundsätzen)

Fichte-Studien beiträge zur geschichte und systematik der transzendentalphilosophie

Begründet von Klaus Hammacher, Richard Schottky (†) und Wolfgang Schrader (†) Veröffentlicht im Auftrage der Internationalen Johann-Gottlieb-Fichte-Gesellschaft Herausgegeben von Marco Ivaldo (Neapel) und Alexander Schnell (Wuppertal) Wissenschaftlicher Beirat Helmut Girndt (Duisburg) – Thomas Sören Hoffmann (Hagen) – Marco Ivaldo (Neapel) – Christian Klotz (Goiás) – Jakub Kloc-Konkolowicz (Warschau) – Petra Lohmann (Siegen) – Elizabeth Millan (Chicago) – Kunihiko Nagasawa (Kyoto) – Peter L. Oesterreich (Ulm) – Jacinto Rivera de Rosales (Madrid) – Alexander Schnell (Wuppertal) – Luc Vincenti (Montpellier) Schriftleiter Thomas Sören Hoffmann (Hagen)

band 49

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/fist

The Enigma of Fichte’s First Principles (Das Rätsel von Fichtes Grundsätzen) Herausgegeben von

David W. Wood

leiden | boston

Die Fichte-Studien erscheinen regelmäßig zweimal im Jahr. Publikationssprachen sind Deutsch, Englisch und Französisch. Die veröffentlichten Aufsätze sind den internationalen Regeln gemäß dem Verfahren der blinden Doppelbegutachtung unterzogen worden. Adresse des Vorsitzenden des wissenschaftlichen Beirats: Prof. Dr. Marco Ivaldo, Via Sant’Agatone papa 50, I 00165 Roma (Italien), E-Mail: [email protected]. Einzelne Manuskripte, nach den editorisch-technischen Richtlinien der Fichte-Studien verfasst, werden an die Adresse von Marco Ivaldo erbeten. Schriftleiter: Prof. Dr. Thomas Sören Hoffmann (Hagen), [email protected]; Mitarbeiter: Bryan-Joseph Planhof (Hagen), [email protected]. Zuständig für den Rezensionsteil der Fichte-Studien: Prof. Dr. Alexander Schnell (Wuppertal), [email protected]; Mitarbeiter: Martin Wilmer (Wuppertal), [email protected]. Die Bände zur Rezension sind an folgende Adresse zu schicken: Prof. Dr. Alexander Schnell, Lehrstuhl für Theoretische Philosophie und Phänomenologie, Fakultät für Geistes- und Kulturwissenschaften (Fakultät 1), Bergische Universität Wuppertal, Gaußstraße 20 – D-42119 Wuppertal The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available online at http://catalog.loc.gov lc record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2021010825

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill‑typeface. issn 0925-0166 isbn 9789004459786 (hardback) isbn 9789004459793 (e-book) Copyright 2021 by David W. Wood. Published by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi, Brill Sense, Hotei Publishing, mentis Verlag, Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh and Wilhelm Fink Verlag. Koninklijke Brill nv reserves the right to protect this publication against unauthorized use. Requests for re-use and/or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill nv via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Inhaltsverzeichnis / Contents Vorwort / Preface: Fichte’s First Principles and the Total System of the Wissenschaftslehre ix David W. Wood Beiträgerverzeichnis / Notes on Contributors xx

teil 1 / part 1 Fichte’s Earliest Reflections on First Principles 1

Fichte’s First First Principles, in the Aphorisms on Religion and Deism (1790) and Prior 3 Jason M. Yonover

2

General Logic and the Foundational Demonstration of the First Principle in Fichte’s Eigene Meditationen and Early Wissenschaftslehre 32 David Sommer

3

The First Principle of Philosophy in Fichte’s 1794 Aenesidemus Review 59 Elise Frketich

teil 2 / part 2 The First Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre 4

Why Is the First Principle of the Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre Foundational for Fichte’s Entire Wissenschaftslehre? 79 Alexander Schnell

5

Difference within Identity? Fichte’s Reevaluation of the First Principle of Philosophy in §5 of the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre 94 Philipp Schwab

vi

inhaltsverzeichnis / contents

6

“The Subsequent Delivery of the Deduction” – Fichte’s Transformation of Kant’s Deduction of the Categories 119 Gesa Wellmann

7

From Being Reflexive to Absolute Reflection – Fichte’s Original Insight Reconsidered 139 Stefan Schick

8

The First Principle of the Wissenschaftslehre and the Logical Principle of Identity 161 Esma Kayar

9

Facticity and Genesis: Tracking Fichte’s Method in the Berlin Wissenschaftslehre 177 G. Anthony Bruno

10

“Knowledge Is Existence” – Ascent to the First Principle in Fichte’s 1805 Erlangen Wissenschaftslehre 198 Robert G. Seymour

teil 3 / part 3 The First Principles of the Sub-Disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre 11

The Monogram of the “Sweet Songstress of the Night”: The Hovering of the Imagination as the First Principle of Fichte’s Aesthetics 219 Laure Cahen-Maurel

12

Fichte’s First Principle of Right Michael Nance

13

I-Hood as the Speculative Ground of Fichte’s Real Ethics Kienhow Goh

14

The Role of First Principles in Fichte’s Philosophy of History Pavel Reichl

15

Circumvolutions of the Mind: Fichte on First Principles and Transcendental Circuits 309 Carlos Zorrilla Piña

248

267

288

vii

inhaltsverzeichnis / contents

teil 4 / part 4 Freie Beiträge 16

‘Transcendental’ in Kant and Fichte: A Conceptual Shift and Its Philosophical Meaning 333 Elena Ficara

17

Fichtes Kolleg „Moral für Gelehrte“ – Jena 1794–1795: Zur Geschichte von „Über Geist und Buchstaben“ 353 Ricardo Barbosa

18

Die gelehrte Bildung nach der göttlichen Idee in Über das Wesen des Gelehrten 377 Quentin Landenne

19

Fichte’s Original Insight Reviewed Roberto Horácio Sá Pereira

20

Images de l’absolu: Phénoménologie matérielle et phénoménologie fichtéenne 416 Frédéric Seyler

394

teil 5 / part 5 Rezensionen Luis Fellipe Garcia, La philosophie comme Wissenschaftslehre. Le projet fichtéen d’une nouvelle pratique du savoir 441 Antonella Carbone Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Die späten wissenschaftlichen Vorlesungen iv, 1: Transzendentale Logik 1 (1812). Neu herausgegeben von Hans Georg von Manz und Ives Radrizzani. Unter Mitarbeit von Erich Fuchs 445 Zhu Lei Thomas Sören Hoffmann (Hrsg.), Fichtes Geschlossener Handelsstaat. Beiträge zur Erschließung eines Anti-Klassikers 459 Konstantinos Masmanidis Index

469

Vorwort / Preface: Fichte’s First Principles and the Total System of the Wissenschaftslehre The main title of the present volume is: “The Enigma of Fichte’s First Principles/Das Rätsel von Fichtes Grundsätzen.” It is so titled because, surprisingly, even after more than two hundred years of research there still remains many unresolved issues regarding the first principles of Fichte’s philosophical system. In the Preface to the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (1794/95), Fichte had given some advice about his manner of philosophizing: “I find it especially important to recall that I will not say everything, but I want to leave something for my reader to think about. […] This is because I wish to promote independent thinking.”1 – This seems to be particularly the case for the topic of the Grundsätze: Fichte has not explicitly stated every single detail, but left to readers and scholars the task of exercising their own intellectual powers to more precisely determine the exact content, form, and scope of the first foundational principles of the Wissenschaftslehre. This foreword will give a brief overview of the contributing articles, as well as some general reflections on why the first scientific principles of Fichte’s philosophy continue to remain enigmatic, including the necessity of seeing these first principles within the total system of the Wissenschaftslehre. The majority of the articles in this volume are based on papers given at an international conference originally held from 27–28 April 2018 at the University of Leuven, Belgium. They all have been reworked, updated, and peer-reviewed for this publication. I wish to thank Karin de Boer and Elise Frketich for their help in co-organising the conference, Henny Blomme, Stephen Howard, Luciano Perulli, Pierpaolo Betti and Wai Lam Foo for their assistance, the Institute of Philosophy at the University of Leuven for supporting and hosting the conference, as well as all the participants for generously making their latest research available here in this issue. I also extend my sincere thanks to the other scholars who subsequently agreed to write a paper for this volume. Their further efforts have resulted in a much more comprehensive survey of the topic

1 J.G. Fichte, Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre, 1794/95 (ga i/2: 253). (Unless otherwise noted, all translations from the German are mine). A new English translation of the Grundlage is forthcoming in: J.G. Fichte, Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre and Related Writings, 1794–95, edited and translated by Daniel Breazeale (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021).

x

vorwort / preface

of first principles in Fichte’s entire system. Finally, I am extremely grateful to the main editorial team of the Fichte-Studien: Marco Ivaldo, Alexander Schnell, Thomas Sören Hoffmann, Bryan-Joseph Planhof, and Martin Wilmer, for their expertise and help in bringing this volume to fruition, as well as the editorial staff at the publisher Brill, particularly during these difficult months of a global pandemic. The first group of three articles in this volume treats the topic of first principles in the very earliest writings of Fichte, from approximately the period 1790–1794. The second group of articles examines specific questions relating to first principles in the technical presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre, especially the Jena Grundlage of 1794/95, as well as the 1804 Berlin and 1805 Erlangen versions. These specific questions concern the nature and status of the first principle and its connection to the second and third principles; the possibility of a change or rupture in the foundations of the Wissenschaftslehre, and the relation of the first principles to logic, reflection, existence, facticity, and the deduction of the categories. The third group of articles looks at the question of the first principles in the sub-disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre, including the domains of aesthetics, right, ethics, history and nature. This volume 49 of the Fichte-Studien is then completed with five further contributions on various topics and three book reviews.

The First Scientific Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre Why does the topic of Fichte’s first principles remain so enigmatic? Apart from the pedagogical issue of readers and scholars having to exercise their own powers of thought, one could imagine that this foundational topic has been thoroughly exhausted by Fichte scholars, and that in the year 2021 there is now nothing more to say or discover. As this volume abundantly shows, that is not at all the case, a lot of fresh perspectives can be opened up and new discoveries made, while many apparent or real contradictions need to be overcome or properly addressed. For example, we already arrive at a first enigma if we ask the simple questions: when and where exactly did Fichte discover the first foundational principle of his system? There is still no consensus on either the time or the place of this philosophical discovery. In the Prefaces to both the 1794 programmatic text Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre and the 1794/95 Grundlage, Fichte himself characterizes the discovery as a form of sudden and fortunate inspiration: a glücklichen Zufall or Glück (fortune); however, he believes this discovery only occurred because of a serious and honest striving to raise philosophy to

vorwort / preface

xi

the level of a self-evident science.2 The suddenness is confirmed by the anecdotal evidence of Eduard Fichte and Henrik Steffens that it took place in a similar manner to Descartes’s inspiration by a warm winter stove.3 In a personal letter to Böttiger written from Zurich, Switzerland, Fichte speaks of an important “discovery” (Entdeckung) that was made around the “end of autumn” 1793.4 Or again, in a December 1793 letter to Heinrich Stephani, Fichte speaks of a philosophical illumination that had happened roughly six weeks earlier: “The system must be rebuilt. And this is what I have been doing for the past six weeks or so. Come celebrate the harvest with me! I have discovered a new foundation, on the basis of which it will be easy to develop the whole of philosophy.”5 This date of late 1793 is further supported by the Preface to the 1806 Anweisung zum seligen Leben, where Fichte speaks of his philosophy of religion being in continuous harmony with a main philosophical conception that had been bestowed upon him “thirteen years” previously, i.e. in the year 1793.6 Thus, based on these textual sources, one general tendency has been to date Fichte’s “original insight” to Zurich in approximately October or November 1793. However, there is another tendency in the research that draws textual support from the Second Introduction to the Wissenschaftslehre, where Fichte points out that the initial idea for a first principle of philosophy had appeared to him already in Königsberg in Prussia in 1791. This was in conversations with the Kantian expositor Johann Friedrich Schulz, “with whom I once shared my then still vague idea of constructing philosophy in its entirety on the basis of the pure I.”7 So, is the place and time of Fichte’s philosophical discovery to be located in Zurich in late 1793, or two years earlier in Königsberg in 1791? A second enigma concerns the actual content and form of the first foundational principle (Grundsatz). What exactly is the nature of the first principle, and did Fichte later change it? In the 1794/95 Grundlage, Fichte does not immediately state his first principle, but indicates that it has to be found:

2 Cf. bwl (ga i/2: 111), gwl (ga i/2: 251–252). 3 See the accounts in volume 1 of Fichte im Gespräch (fg), edited by Erich Fuchs, pp. 63–64. See the English translations of these accounts in: J.G. Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, edited and translated by Daniel Breazeale (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1988), pp. 12–13. 4 J.G. Fichte in Zurich to Karl August Böttiger in Weimar, 8 January 1794 (ga iii/2: 32). 5 J.G. Fichte in Zurich to Heinrich Stephani, mid-December 1793 (ga iii/2: 28); Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, p. 371. 6 AzsL (ga i/9: 47). 7 J.G. Fichte, Zweite Einleitung in die Wissenschaftslehre (ga i/4: 225); English translation by Daniel Breazeale in: J.G. Fichte, Introductions to the Wissenschaftslehre and Other Writings (Indianapolis/Cambridge: Hackett, 1994), p. 57.

xii

vorwort / preface

§1 First, absolutely unconditioned foundational principle We have to seek out the absolutely first completely unconditioned foundational principle of all human knowledge. It cannot be proven or determined, if it is the absolutely first foundational principle.8 In accordance with his commitment to independent thinking on the part of the reader, one can see that at the outset of this text Fichte does not passively present or explain his first principle, but rather sets out the conditions for it to appear: it has to be absolutely first, unconditioned, and can neither be determined nor proved. One could ask: by adopting such an unusual methodological approach, did Fichte likewise wish to stimulate in his readers a sudden philosophical “inspiration”, or as he would later term it, an “intellectual intuition”? In sections §2 and §3 of the Grundlage, Fichte then presents two further absolutely foundational principles, which differ from the first insofar as they are conditioned with regard to their content (§2) or their form (§ 3). Much ink has been shed in trying to understand how these latter two foundational principles relate in turn to the first foundational principle. As regards the content of this first foundational principle of § 1 of the Grundlage, scholars seem to understand it in different ways. Either as the “absolute I”, or the “pure I”, as “I am” or simply as the “I”; some consider it to be “I = I”, “I am I”, or again: the “I-hood” – the unity of the subject-object. Other scholars prefer a longer statement of the first principle, often the formulation found in point 10 of §1 of the Grundlage: “the I originally posits its own being absolutely” (Das Ich setzt ursprünglich schlechthin sein eigenes Sein).9 Are all these different formulations valid as the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre? Fichte had asked his readers to think for themselves and seek out the first foundational principle of his philosophy, a principle forming the basis for the entirety of human knowledge, and the result in the scholarship appears to be many different formulations that might very well contradict one another. Most strikingly, several different first principles are put forward, despite Fichte’s insistence that there is one, and only one, first principle. Some scholars think this contradiction is only apparent, and can be resolved by viewing many of these formulations as variants of the same first principle of the “absolute I”, expressed either in an abbreviated or more extended form. This would not be surprising, as Fichte himself said he would change his terminology and presentations, and perhaps this therefore holds for the multiple formulations of the first principle itself.

8 gwl (ga i/2: 255). 9 gwl (ga i/2: 261).

vorwort / preface

xiii

Yet Fichte also underscored that the first principle must be self-evident to all: “Since this proposition is supposed to be certain immediately and through itself, this can only mean that its content determines its form and its form determines its content.”10 Are all the above formulations immediately certain and self-evident? Fichte was similarly clear as early as the 1794 Recension des Aenesidemus that in order to have a living foundation for his philosophy, the content of any true first principle had to be “real” or “material”, and not abstract, formulaic or theoretical, like those found in the sciences of logic or mathematics.11 This is furthermore a distinction that can be easily overlooked – the classic and crucial Fichtean distinction between the outer letter (Buchstabe) and inner spirit or mind (Geist). That is to say, we have to clearly distinguish between the mere linguistic expression of the first principle that can be summarized in words or signs, and the actual living content or cognitive act to which these words refer: “The Wissenschaftslehre establishes a proposition (Satz) that has been thought and then expressed in words. Such a proposition corresponds to an action (Handlung) of the human mind.”12 Other researchers have argued that perhaps there is no one single Grundsatz, or even that Fichte’s system is not foundational at all. This leads to the related problem or charge: the reason why there exists many variations of the first principle is because Fichte himself continually changed or modified it. That is to say, Fichte adopted a different first principle later in Berlin, because supposedly his early Jena system was not working. If this is the case, then there is a distinct rupture in the transcendental and scientific foundations of Fichte’s system. Indeed, this alternative seems tempting and even obvious to many people, especially since many of the later Berlin writings clearly appeal to some kind of transcendent or religious foundation. Or can this contradiction between the early Jena and later Berlin presentations be satisfactorily resolved? In this regard, we have to remember that Fichte’s primary philosophical method in the Grundlage is the method of synthesis, which concerns none other than the resolution of cognitive paradoxes or apparent contradictions. And of course: properly answering the question of a rupture in the foundations of the Wissenschaftslehre first of all involves correctly determining what exactly the first principle of the early Jena system is. If researchers choose the wrong first principle for the Jena period, then it will be hard to convincingly and accurately prove a rupture later on in Berlin. Hence, it is extremely necessary for Fichte scholarship to attain a more comprehensive consensus regarding the first principle 10 11 12

bwl (ga i/2: 121); Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, p. 109. Fichte, Recension des Aenesidemus (ga i/2: 46); cf. gwl (ga i/2: 267, 272, 363). bwl (ga i/2: 148); Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, p. 132.

xiv

vorwort / preface

in Fichte’s chief scientific text in Jena, the 1794/95 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre. And that is exactly what many of the contributions in this volume have striven to do.

The Sub-Disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre The Wissenschaftslehre was not merely to have a rigorous foundation based on three interrelated first principles, but also to be a general system of the whole of human knowledge and of all the other specific sciences. In sum: “The Wissenschaftslehre is supposed to be the science of all the sciences.”13 Moreover, Fichte was fully convinced of the originality of his philosophy: “this science is a newly discovered science whose very idea did not previously exist, and this can only be obtained and judged from the Wissenschaftslehre itself.”14 As early as the year 1795, after the publication of the Grundlage and the Grundriss, Fichte believed that he had now done enough for a competent reader to already have a perfectly sufficient overview of the method, ground, and scope of his system, and how this foundation could be further expanded upon: In the present book [Grundlage], as well as if one includes the text: Grundrisse des Eigentümlichen der Wissenschaftslehre in Rücksicht auf das theoretische Vermögen, I believe I have developed my system so far that every competent judge can completely have an overview of both the ground (Grund) and extent (Umfang) of the system, as well as the method (Art) as to how one can further build on the former.15 In the 1794 Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre Fichte had listed a number of disciplines that were to be built on the foundation of the more general Wissenschaftslehre. These projected sub-disciplines or particular sciences included: a theory of aesthetics, the philosophy of nature, a doctrine of God, a doctrine of right, and a theory of ethics, and again, “whose first foundational principles are not merely formal, but material.”16 Each of these specific sub13 14

15 16

bwl (ga i/2: 127); ibid., p. 114. Fichte, [Ankündigung] “Seit sechs Jahren”, 1801 (ga i/7: 153); Fichte, “Announcement” in: J.G. Fichte/F.W.J. Schelling, The Philosophical Rupture between Fichte and Schelling. Selected Texts and Correspondence (1800–1802), trans. and eds. Michael G. Vater and David W. Wood (Albany/N.Y.: State University of New York Press, 2012), p. 85. gwl (ga i/2: 252). See the section “Hypothetical Classification of the Wissenschaftslehre” (Hypothetische Einteilung der Wissenschaftslehre), in: Fichte, bwl (ga i/2: 151).

vorwort / preface

xv

disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre should likewise have a first foundational principle. The Wissenschaftslehre is to provide the first principles to these other particular sub-disciplines, and they should in turn relate back to the first principles of the general Wissenschaftslehre. Hence, each of the foundational principles are to be viewed from two sides, from the side of the main foundational principle, and from the side of the specific sub-discipline: In this respect the Wissenschaftslehre is supposed to provide all the sciences with their first principles. It follows that all those propositions which serve as first principles of the various particular sciences are, at the same time, propositions indigenous to the Wissenschaftslehre. Thus, one and the same proposition has to be considered from two points of view: as a proposition contained within the Wissenschaftslehre, and also as a first principle standing at the pinnacle of some particular science.17 Here we encounter further puzzling aspects of Fichte’s system. How exactly does the first principle of the general Wissenschaftslehre relate in a twofold manner to the first principles of the particular sub-disciplines? And how many sub-disciplines or particular sciences are there? Similar to the first 1794 edition of Über den Begriff, the 1798/99 lectures on the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo conclude with a classification of the different sub-disciplines of the system, including a theory of nature, a system of ethics, a doctrine of right, a philosophy of religion, as well as a theory of aesthetics.18 While the 1806 Anweisung zum seligen Leben seems to list five main disciplines in a hierarchical manner, with the conception of nature at the bottom and the system of science at the summit.19 To complicate matters, the second series of the 1804 lectures on the Wissenschaftslehre had argued that any five disciplines can in turn be split up into a further five, with the total result of “twenty-five” sub-disciplines, or what Fichte also terms as forms or “basic determinations of knowledge.”20 Indeed, in the later Jena, Berlin and Erlangen periods Fichte gave presentations on other topics such as political theory, economics, the theory of the state, philosophy of history, theory of the scholar, the philosophy of mathematics, and so on. So does the Wissenschaftslehre have five, twenty-five, or even more subdisciplines?

17 18 19 20

bwl (ga i/2: 151), Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, p. 114. WLnm-K (ga iv/2: 262–266). AzsL (ga i/9: 106–114). wl-1804-ii (ga ii/8: 419).

xvi

vorwort / preface

Not only is the number of sub-disciplines puzzling. Fichte maintained that once the entire system was completed it would return back to its original starting point. In other words, the architectonic of the system is supposedly circular: A first principle has been exhausted when a complete system has been erected upon it; that is, when the first principle necessarily leads to all the established propositions, and all the established propositions necessarily lead back in turn to it. […] When this science is established, it will be shown that this circular course (Kreislauf ) is really completed, and the researcher will be left back precisely at the point from which he had started.21 Thus, there is a beginning point and an endpoint to the Wissenschaftslehre, and when the system is exhausted one will see how they harmonize and that the researcher has circled back to the starting point. In the Second Introduction, Fichte stated that the start of the Wissenschaftslehre commences with the “intuition of the I”, and it concludes with the “idea of the I”.22 He stressed that the intuition and idea should not be confused with one another and are therefore distinct. But how exactly is the architectonic circular if these two points are distinct? This is another problematic issue concerning the intersection between the main foundational principle and the first principles of the sub-disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre.

The Total System of the Wissenschaftslehre In any event, Fichte viewed the general foundation, together with all its particular sub-disciplines, in which the researcher returns and circle backs to the original starting point, as constituting a philosophical whole, or as the total system of the Wissenschaftslehre. It was conceived as a scientific foundation for all human knowledge or as a modern philosophical encyclopaedia. In fact, in 1813 Fichte advertised a series of lectures at the University of Berlin with precisely this title: “Allgemeine wissenschaftliche Encyclopädie” (General Scientific Encyclopaedia).23 But was this total encyclopaedic system of the Wissenschaftslehre ever completed? We have to remember, for Fichte the system attains completion (Vol21 22 23

bwl (ga i/2: 130–131); Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, pp. 116–117 (trans. modified). Fichte, Zweite Einleitung (ga i/4: 265–266). Cf. editors’ preface to ga ii/16: 3.

vorwort / preface

xvii

lendung) or is exhausted when it returns back to its starting point. That is the difference between the general Wissenschaftslehre and any of the particular sciences. Unlike the latter, the former can be completed: The Wissenschaftslehre therefore has absolute totality. In it, the One leads to the All, and the All to the One. It is the sole science that can be completed; accordingly, completion is one of its defining characteristics. All the other sciences are infinite and can never be completed; because they do not return back again to their first principle.24 There is much debate on this point, both for and against the completion of the Wissenschaftslehre. With the publication of the Grundlage des Naturrechts in 1796/97 and the Sittenlehre in 1798 we do appear to have finished versions of at least two major sub-disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre already by the year 1798. Notwithstanding, in the Preface to the second 1798 edition of Über den Begriff, Fichte admitted that his system was still far from complete, and there remained a lot of work to finish it: “For the completion of the system, there is still indescribably much to do. The ground has hardly been laid, and the building has scarcely begun.”25 Significantly, however, in that same text he did dispense entirely with the “hypothetical classification of the Wissenschaftslehre”, that is, with the above-mentioned projected sketch of the architectonical idea of its various sub-disciplines, because he now considered that its contents had been sufficiently incorporated into the Grundlage text.26 In 1806, in the Preface to his chief text on the philosophy of religion, the Anweisung zum seligen Leben, oder auch die Religionslehre, Fichte declared that his late popular writings were perfectly in harmony with his earlier scientific system, and that the Anweisung should henceforth be viewed as the “summit” and “brightest point of light” of all his writings.27 If so, with this detailed study on the philosophy of religion had the Wissenschaftslehre finally become completed in 1806? Or was it now just philosophically transcendent? According to Fichte, his system remained fully immanent and transcendental, and never became transcendent or dogmatic. Many critics and current scholars disagree with him on this point. They see the later turn to popular writings on religion and faith around 1800 to be no longer compatible with a scientific and rational system of philosophy. However, if this interpretation of a later irreconcilable 24 25 26 27

bwl (ga i/2, 131); (cf. Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, p. 117). Ibid. (ga i/2, 162). Ibid. (ga i/2, 160–161). AzsL (ga i/9: 47).

xviii

vorwort / preface

religious turn is correct, why did Fichte already state in the 1794/95 Grundlage that the Wissenschaftslehre is “not atheistic”,28 and room must therefore be made in it for a philosophy of religion?29 Whatever view we adopt regarding the question of continuity or rupture between the early and later presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre, we should be aware of another piece of advice that Fichte had given in the 1795 Preface to the Grundlage. In fact, it is so crucial, Fichte underscored it twice. And that is, however much we explicitly determine one element in the Wissenschaftslehre – and that of course holds for the first foundational principles and those of the sub-disciplines – no one specific element can be fully understood in isolation or on its own, but each and every element should additionally be viewed from the standpoint of the totality of the system: One has to explain from the context, and first procure an overview of the whole before precisely determining a single isolated proposition; this is a method that obviously presupposes goodwill to do justice to the system rather than the intention of only finding errors in it. […] I request future critics of this text to examine the whole, and to view every single thought from the viewpoint of the whole.30 It is exceedingly difficult for a single scholar, let alone the ordinary interested reader, to have a thorough grasp of the entirety of Fichte’s philosophical writings, including those on the different subs-disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre. Hence, this was another of the central aims of this volume 49 of the Fichte-Studien, to help serious philosophical readers of the Wissenschaftslehre in the imposing task of obtaining a better insight into its total system. Naturally, this volume could not tackle all the above unresolved issues, nor can it provide an overview of every single facet or sub-discipline. Yet it does try to supply vital and up-to-date perspectives on some of the most relevant elements and key domains. 28 29

30

gwl (ga i/2: 410). I have elsewhere argued that Fichte’s scientific idea of a Tathandlung in the Grundlage has actually been adapted from the sphere of religion, specifically the rational tradition of the Johannine logos. Consequently, Fichte’s philosophical presentation of the Tathandlung in the Grundlage forms a purely rational transition from science to religion already in the year 1794. See David W. Wood, “Fichte’s Absolute I and the Forgotten Tradition of Tathandlung”, in: Das Selbst und die Welt – Beiträge zu Kant und der nachkantischen Philosophie (Festschrift für Günter Zöller), eds. Manja Kisner, Giovanni Pietro Basile, Ansgar Lyssy, Michael Bastien Weiss (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2019), pp. 167–192. gwl (ga i/2: 252–253).

vorwort / preface

xix

Eventually for Fichte, any final overview of the Wissenschaftslehre can only be generated by readers themselves, who need to freely employ their philosophical forces to attain such a perspective. Not simply their more analytic skills of judging, or the intellect, or understanding and reason, but also their powers of memory, their faculty of intuition, and lastly, the unifying and synthesising force of their own creative or productive imagination. This last point needs underscoring for it is often underappreciated. According to Fichte, it is not just poets and artists who need to utilise their creative imagination, but it is absolutely necessary for philosophers too, in order to grasp the central ideas of his system. Once this is done, the resulting insight hits the reader suddenly: “in a fortunate minute the sought-after image presents itself before the soul like a flash of lightning. […] It depends on this faculty [of the creative imagination] whether a person philosophizes with spirit or not. The Wissenschaftslehre is of such a nature that it cannot be communicated at all through the mere letter, but solely through the spirit. This is because for anyone who studies the Wissenschaftslehre, its foundational ideas (Grund-Ideen) have to be generated by the creative power of the imagination itself.”31 Failing to deploy the totality of one’s intellectual forces will therefore result in a one-sided and incomplete picture of this system: “The Wissenschaftslehre should exhaust the entire human being; hence, it can only be grasped with the totality of the human being’s entire faculties – […] this is a truth that is very unpleasant to state and to hear, but it remains a truth nevertheless.”32 May this volume inspire future scholars to make even further explicit what Fichte left unsaid or only implicitly pointed to. For them to employ all their faculties to try and resolve more precisely many of these puzzling questions and enigmas concerning the first foundational principles of Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre on the one hand, and the totality of his system on the other. David W. Wood 31 32

Ibid. (ga i/2: 415). Ibid.

Beiträgerverzeichnis / Notes on Contributors Barbosa, Ricardo Prof. Dr. Praia de Botafogo 148, 801, 22250-040 Rio de Janeiro rj, Brasilien [email protected], +55 21 98663-5401 Bruno, G. Anthony Prof. Dr. 110 Telford Ave, London UK, SW24XG [email protected], +44 07379833383 Cahen-Maurel, Laure Dr. phil. Place Louis Morichar 45, 1060, Brussels, Belgium [email protected] Carbone, Antonella m.a. PhD candidate, San Raffaele University/lmu Munich [email protected], +39 349 121 8292 Ficara, Elena Jun.-Prof. Dr. Rosenthaler Straße 40/41 Aufgang C 10178 Berlin [email protected], +49 1752760591 Frketich, Elise PhD Purdue University, Room 1155, Beering Hall, West Lafayette, Indiana 47907, U.S.A., [email protected], +1 765-496-4046 Goh, Kienhow PhD Block 403 Pandan Gardens 06–22, Singapore 600403 [email protected], +65 8411–9624 Kayar, Esma Dr. Research Assistant, Istanbul Medeniyet University, Sümbül Efendi M. Hacı Kadın C. No: 28/8, Fatih, Istanbul Turkey [email protected], +90 5365607799 Landenne, Quentin Prof. Dr. Avenue du Vindictive, 8, 1040 Etterbeek, Belgium [email protected], +32 498 83 73 33

beiträgerverzeichnis / notes on contributors

Lei, Zhu m.a. PhD candidate, lmu Munich. Christoph-Probst-Strasse 8/0935, 80805 Munich [email protected] Masmanidis, Konstantinos Dr. Katholische Universität Eichstätt-Ingolstadt Lehrstuhl für Bildungsphilosophie Systematische Pädagogik Ostenstr. 22, 85072 Eichstätt, [email protected], +49 08421-93-1042, Nance, Michael Prof. Dr. University of Maryland, Baltimore County, 1000 Hilltop Circle, Baltimore, MD 21250 [email protected], +1 410-455-2005 Reichl, Pavel PhD Newcastle University, Newcastle upon Tyne NE1 7RU [email protected], +44 7561162549 Sá Pereira, Roberto Horácio Prof. Dr. Rua Engenheiro Álvaro Niemeyer casa 113, São Conrado, Rio de Janeiro, Rio de Janeiro/Brazil, 22610-180, [email protected], +55 21-9999-19120 Schick, Stefan pd Dr. Institut für Philosophie, Gebäude pt, Zi. 4.3.28, Universität Regensburg, 93040 Regensburg, Germany [email protected], +49 0941 943–3651 Schnell, Alexander Prof. Dr. Lehrstuhl für Theoretische Philosophie und Phänomenologie Fakultät für Geistes- und Kulturwissenschaften, Bergische Universität Wuppertal, Gaußstraße 20 D-42119 Wuppertal [email protected], +49 0202 439–3739 Schwab, Philipp JProf. Dr. Philosophisches Seminar der Albert-Ludwigs-Universität, Raum 1072, Platz der Universität 3, D-79085 Freiburg [email protected], +49 179–1185090

xxi

xxii

beiträgerverzeichnis / notes on contributors

Seyler, Frédéric Prof. Dr. 2352 N. Clifton Av., Suite 150, Chicago, IL 60614, U.S.A. [email protected], +1 773-325-4813 Seymour, Robert G. PhD Hurstfold, Chinthurst Lane, Shalford, Guildford, Surrey, GU4 8JR, UK [email protected], +44 7903034717 Sommer, David Mphil. PhD Candidate at University College London Edelheide 7, 21149 Hamburg, Germany [email protected], +49 07722331550 Wellmann, Gesa PhD Heuberweg 7, 26209 Sandhatten, Germany [email protected], +49 44822190805 Wood, David W. Dr. phil. Institute of Philosophy, University of Leuven, Kardinaal Mercierplein 2 – box 3200, Leuven 3000, Belgium, [email protected], +32 488030616 Yonover, Jason Maurice m.a. PhD Candidate at Johns Hopkins University, 3400 N Charles St, Baltimore, MD 21218, USA, [email protected] Zorrilla Piña, Carlos m.a. PhD Candidate at Emory University, 473 Burlington Rd NE, Atlanta, GA 30307, USA [email protected], +1 404 783 8016

teil 1 / part 1 Fichte’s Earliest Reflections on First Principles

∵

1 Fichte’s First First Principles, in the Aphorisms on Religion and Deism (1790) and Prior Jason M. Yonover

One arrives to idealism through an inclination to dogmatism, if not through dogmatism itself. j.g. fichte1

∵ Abstract The idea of a “first principle” looms large in Fichte’s thought, and its first real appearance is in his “Aphorisms on Religion and Deism” (1790), which has received little attention. I begin this paper by providing some context on that piece, and then developing a reconstruction of the position presented within it. Next, I establish that Fichte’s views at the time of writing, and for some years prior, are those of the “deist,” and clarify why he sensed he had to leave this stance represented in the “Aphorisms” behind. I conclude that understanding Fichte’s shift away from “deism,” a species of what he would eventually call “dogmatism,” can also help us understand Fichte’s critique of the latter kind of thinking and so shed light on Fichte’s better-known views; and I emphasize that Fichte’s transition from a strict rationalism to a form of Kantianism may be of interest not only to scholarship on Fichte and the period, but likewise to work on rationalism in contemporary metaphysics. Finally, in an appendix I supplement the paper with a first English translation of the entire text of the “Aphorisms,” complete with annotations.

1 J.G. Fichte (ga i,4: 195 | Science of Knowledge 16, trans. mod.). I cite Fichte by the volume and page number of the Complete Works [Gesamtausgabe or ga]. I have also utilized the Collected Works [Sämtliche Werke or sw]. Translations are mine unless noted, and I have modified a published translation in cases where the citation ends with “trans. mod.”

© Jason M. Yonover, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_002

4

yonover

Keywords deism – religion – dogmatism – idealism – determinism – necessitarianism – free will – principle of sufficient reason – rationalism

1

Introduction

It’s quite obvious that Fichte had a tenuous relationship with many of his readers and rivals. Fichte was in particular very hard on that sort of opponent he labeled “the dogmatist” who, on his understanding, begins by affirming the priority of a world of necessitated things, and so denying of us a will that is free. The mature Fichte usually associates representatives of dogmatism with moral if not also intellectual inferiority. He frequently decries their resistance to convert from dogmatism to idealism, which in contrast begins by asserting the priority of self-consciousness, securing our freedom of will. In a characteristic passage of the “First Introduction” to the Wissenschaftslehre of 1797, Fichte aligns this pair of philosophical stances and their respective notions of the self with “two tiers of humanity” (ga i,4: 194 | Science of Knowledge 15, trans. mod.). The dogmatist’s self is dispersed and has not yet raised itself to autonomy; it’s a thing among the many other things of which they rigidly assert necessary existence. The more engaged idealist, meanwhile, believes first and foremost in themselves. As Fichte sees it, the idealist grasps – even chooses – their true independence, which is allegedly so opaque to the dogmatist. The idealist Fichte thus makes fun of his dogmatist opponents in a notable remark within the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre, writing that “it would be easier to convince most people to regard themselves to be a piece of lava on the moon than an I” (ga i,2: 326n). But in all seriousness, throughout the most important period of his philosophical career, Fichte is sincerely concerned that the dogmatist is in grave ethical error insofar as they accept that we are embedded in a causal nexus extending throughout the rest of a world that proceeds in a strongly deterministic manner. Again, this much is rather clear.2 It’s only rarely noted, however, that Fichte was himself once vulnerable to such criticism, should it hold. That is, Fichte 2 Although Fichte’s opposition to what he calls dogmatism is consistent from 1790 forward, important questions do remain. It has, for instance, been debated in what respect Fichte really considers idealism to win out over dogmatism. In a pair of confounding passages from the first 1797 “Introduction,” Fichte writes: “these two are the only philosophical systems possible” (ga i,4: 188 | Science of Knowledge 9), referencing dogmatism and idealism, and then

fichte’s first first principles

5

was, at the earliest stage of his philosophical career, a “dogmatist.” Indeed, philosophers are often hardest on those views that they have previously held, and this is particularly true of Fichte. My aim in this paper is to properly demonstrate and clarify that fact in some detail. Additionally, I want to sketch a renewed account of Fichte’s transition away from his initial stance on this basis. To these ends, I will especially discuss Fichte’s first major engagement with “first principles.” Now, these “first principles” I will point to have no direct relation of content to those to which the mature Fichte turns, perhaps most notably in his first major systematic work just referenced above – the Foundation – where Fichte variously frames the basis of the system he’s best known for: “I am I” (ga i,2: 257); “the I is posited absolutely” (ga i,2: 259); etc.3 However, what I call Fichte’s first first principles still have a clear formal relation to the principles of the Foundation and beyond, both insofar as these earlier principles may be expressed in propositional form or already are expressed as such by Fichte, and insofar as they have a similarly systematic role to play in singularly functioning as a basis for the development of a view. That is to say, the principles I will identify as the first Fichte took seriously each meet the conditions of what he will later define to be a first principle.4 My discussion is centered on one text in particular: Fichte’s “Aphorisms on Religion and Deism [Aphorismen über Religion und Deismus],” written 1790 but published only later by Fichte’s son, I.H. Fichte.5 (See this paper’s Appendix for a first complete and annotated English translation of the text.) The “Aphorisms” discusses the principles of primarily Christian religion, on the one hand, and those of a rationalist “deism,” on the other. I emphasize in this paper that the fundamental first principle in the former case is the proposition that sin

affirms: “idealism is left as the only possible philosophy” (ga i,4: 198), despite the fact that the dogmatist can’t be refuted in some respects. Breazeale, Daniel: Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre: Themes from Fichte’s Early Philosophy. Oxford 2013, Ch. 11 considers a number of relevant issues, some of which I shall return to below. 3 For clarification concerning these diverse formulations, see the present volume’s introduction and a number of its chapters. 4 Regarding Fichte’s notion of a first principle, his Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre of 1794 is key. It precedes the Foundation of 1794/95 and features particularly methodological discussions. See especially ga i,2: 115 | Early Philosophical Writings 104, “A proposition […] which is certain prior to and independently of the association with others, is termed a first principle [Grundsatz].” 5 I can only discuss the beginnings of Fichte’s philosophy of religion in this paper, but on his views over time, see Verweyen, Jürgen: “Fichte’s Philosophy of Religion.” In: The Cambridge Companion to Fichte, ed. James, David & Zöller, Günther. Cambridge 2016.

6

yonover

obtains and has obtained; and I will argue that the foundational first principle in the latter case is the Principle of Sufficient Reason or psr: that nothing happens without a reason.6 There is much to learn in getting a clearer picture of where Fichte is at prior to developing the positions he’s most known for, and arguably we are in the best position to understand where he ends up only if have a clear idea of where he is coming from. Additionally, though I won’t be able to go into any detail here, given that rationalism is justifiably receiving fresh attention in metaphysics today,7 it’s particularly worthwhile to consider what may be the most notable case of a philosopher affirming a robust version of this philosophical tendency and then turning elsewhere for detailed reasons – not to mention with some drama. In Section 2 of this paper, I provide a bit more background regarding the text of the “Aphorisms” and its context. This information is important not only because the “Aphorisms” has been neglected,8 but also because illustrating its context will allow me to more effectively develop the thrust of the paper and position its results. In Sections 3 and 4, then, I reconstruct Fichte’s earliest stance and so discuss in greater detail what I take to be the first first principles of interest to him. This is the central portion of the paper in which I sketch Fichte’s development, arguing that his earliest commitments line up with those of the “deist” in the “Aphorisms,” and clarifying why. Finally, in Section 5 and the Con-

6 It might seem like ‘fundamental’ or ‘foundational’ first principle, locutions just used, are twice or even thrice repetitive. But here I only follow Fichte, e.g. in ga i,2: 282. When Fichte sometimes confusingly speaks of several first principles or (erste) Grundsätze pertaining to a single system, I take him to be referring to the commitments that immediately follow from the deepest, i.e. most fundamental, first principle. For the sake of clarity I will identify as ‘fundamental’ or ‘foundational’ any principle which is absolutely prior to other principles that come to constitute a broader stance. Such first principles are not to be confused with the ‘first first principles’ of my title, where I am using the initial ‘first’ just in the sense of temporal priority in order to play on the term ‘first principle.’ (One could similarly use the rhetorical form epizeuxis to specify the period of Fichte’s work that I am most concerned with here as ‘Fichte’s early early work,’ since Fichte’s ‘early work’ is normally considered to begin with his Jena writings in the 1790s, and older texts that I deal with in this paper are rarely considered.) 7 For an overview of recent work, see Lin, Martin & Melamed, Yitzhak Y.: “The Principle of Sufficient Reason.” In: Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2016), §6. 8 Notably, in the English-language context, Breazeale’s excellent edition of Fichte’s Early Philosophical Writings begins only with writings that postdate the “Aphorisms” and several other texts I discuss in what follows. Until now, Stine, Russell Warren: The Doctrine of God in the Philosophy of Fichte. Philadelphia 1945 offered the most in-depth treatment of the “Aphorisms” in English.

fichte’s first first principles

7

clusion, I take advantage of the results of these previous sections in order to cast some additional light on Fichte’s views after 1790. Most importantly, I emphasize what led Fichte to become dissatisfied with his earliest system. This should help us understand the opposition Fichte eventually draws between idealism and dogmatism; but it may also give us pause as we consider the prospects of metaphysical rationalism today.

2

Some Background

As mentioned, the text of the “Aphorisms” was published – apparently from a manuscript that was available to him – by Fichte’s son I.H. Fichte, first in 1831, and then in 1835 within a volume presenting Fichte’s posthumous works.9 In turning to the philological and historical context of Fichte’s “Aphorisms” within this section, there are at least two important things to note about these publications of the piece: First, the text of the “Aphorisms” was presented in both cases as incomplete; indeed, the text available today in the critical edition of Fichte’s works still carries within its title the parenthetical declaration “(Fragment).” But although the manuscript is no longer available, a number of commentators agree that this is in all likelihood an editorial intervention by Fichte’s son.10 In truth, the “Aphorisms” ends with a perfectly reasonable tension such that there isn’t reason to assume the piece was to be worked out further in some significant way, or that it was marked by Fichte as unfinished, even abandoned. In the same way, the editors of the relevant volume of the Complete Works (ga) note that another paratextual element, the subtitle “From the year 1790,” presumably stems from I.H. Fichte.11 In any case, it should be clear that the “Aphorisms” admits of reconstruction, and a proper treatment of it – which I hope to offer in the next section – needs to account for it as the coherent unit that it is.

9

10 11

Wood, Allen: Fichte’s Ethical Thought. Oxford 2016 offers the most recent and exciting discussion of Fichte’s “Aphorisms,” but I will point to a few inaccuracies in what follows. To begin, Wood: Ethical Thought, pg. 4 incorrectly states that the “Aphorisms” was first published in the edition of Fichte’s collected works edited by his son; the text was instead initially presented in the second volume of a project I.H. Fichte put together some years earlier. See Fichte, I.H. (ed.): Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Leben und litterarischer Briefwechsel, Vol. 2. Sulzbach 1831, pgs. 18–25. See for instance Preul, Rainer: Reflexion und Gefühl: die Theologie Fichtes in seiner vorkantischen Zeit. Berlin 1969, pg. 108n51. To be clear, this is despite the fact that those same editors don’t mention the question concerning the classification as fragment; see ga ii,1: 285f.

8

yonover

Second, when the “Aphorisms” was first published by Fichte’s son in 1831, it was accompanied by very little commentary. I.H. Fichte merely claims in this first volume of Fichte’s Life and Literary Correspondence that the text represents Fichte in transition, and that there’s some curious material in it which he thus wants to make available as an “appendix” in the second volume of this edition.12 A few years later, though, Fichte’s son again publishes the “Aphorisms,” and with discussion that is then reprinted in the Collected Works (sw). He now explicitly associates Fichte’s earliest position with Spinoza.13 Retrospectively, this isn’t absurd; the position Fichte takes in the “Aphorisms” has plenty to do with the position he would later criticize under the label of “Spinozism.” Additionally – and this isn’t guaranteed by the previous point – the position developed in the “Aphorisms” really does resemble Spinoza’s in many ways. It even has much in common with central doctrines of Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise, and not just his Ethics.14 This is surely one reason why, on rare occasion, Fichte himself later associated his earliest thinking with a kind of “Spinozism.”15 But it’s not clear that Fichte initially understood his own position as Spinozistic in any real sense, because it’s not clear that he had the chance to read Spinoza at this time – and Fichte even seems to have held his relevant “deist” views prior to the controversy sparked by Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi, which inadvertently made Spinoza’s views far more widely known.16 Given these data, calling Fichte’s earliest stance Spinozist is imprecise at best. We shouldn’t, on the basis of evidence currently available, say that Spinoza is a plausible influence for Fichte in the 1780s, even if Fichte’s views in the period can rightly be said to

12 13

14

15 16

Fichte, I.H. (ed.): Fichte’s Leben und litterarischer Briefwechsel, Vol. 1, pg. 143. “Spinoza, whose system [Fichte] also later characterized as the only consistent one prior to the invention of transcendental idealism, was the model for that philosophical perspective” (sw v: vi). Not only is the latter part of I.H. Fichte’s claim here too strong – as I will discuss next – but the former is as well: although Fichte does eventually consider Spinoza to be the most compelling dogmatist, Spinoza isn’t the only member of the set of properly consistent dogmatists. Regarding theological-political correspondences, the Fichte of the “Aphorisms” and Spinoza both stress, for instance, that religion nicely fulfills the affective needs of the ‘intellectually inferior.’ See my note 17 below. Fichte would eventually have been familiar with the Pantheism Controversy initiated by Jacobi, particularly given his admiration for Lessing as well as Goethe, whose poetry was initially included in Jacobi’s Spinoza volume. Medicus, Fritz: J.G. Fichte: Dreizehn Vorlesungen gehalten an der Universität Halle. Berlin 1905, pg. 30 claims that, while traveling through Weimar, Fichte unsuccessfully tried to meet Goethe and Herder – indeed shortly before writing the “Aphorisms” – but I have not been able to confirm this. Wood: Ethical Thought, pg. 4 states that a meeting actually took place.

fichte’s first first principles

9

line up with Spinoza’s in several ways, and even if Fichte would at least have had some degree of second-hand knowledge regarding Spinoza by the late 1780s. While a number of commentators have followed Fichte’s son in loosely associating Fichte’s earliest views with Spinoza,17 and while the importance of Spinoza to modern German thought continues to be widely underestimated,18 a dissenting and more compelling account of the historical influences on Fichte’s initial views emerged throughout the 20th-century. Rainer Preul has offered a particularly compelling and wide-ranging account of the multiple strands of thinking with which Fichte was engaged.19 But more specifically, Hermann Nohl first proposed that the most decisive source for Fichte’s early rationalism in particular is Karl Ferdinand Hommel and his On Praise and Punishment according to Turkish Laws (1770), published pseudonymously under the name Alexander von Joch.20 Armin Wildfeuer then took up and defended Nohl’s hypothesis in detail in the past decades.21 I favor this account

17

18

19 20

21

Most recently, Wood: Ethical Thought, pgs. 4 f., 65 suggestively references Spinoza in his discussion of the “Aphorisms.” See also his “Fichte’s Absolute Freedom.” In: The Free Development of Each: Studies on Freedom, Right, and Ethics in Classical German Philosophy. Oxford 2014, pg. 164 in which he also goes a step further and speculates that “as far as we can tell, [Fichte’s earliest system] was largely influenced by Spinoza.” Several 19th-century commentators like Noack, Ludwig: Fichte nach seinem Leben, Lehren und Wirken. Leipzig 1862, pg. 32 also followed I.H. Fichte in associating Fiche’s earliest views with Spinoza, although it’s sometimes unclear whether they intend a historical connection to Spinoza, or are just speaking loosely. To my knowledge, only Breazeale, Daniel: “Fichte’s Spinoza: ‘Common Standpoint,’ ‘Essential Opposition,’ and ‘Hidden Treasure.’” In: International Yearbook of German Idealism 14 (2019) argues on the basis of ga ii,10: 114 that the earliest Fichte can really be called a Spinozist. But Breazeale, “Fichte’s Spinoza,” pg. 113 reads the passage in question too strongly when he calls it an “explicit admission [on Fichte’s part] that before he was a Kantian he was a Spinozist.” Fichte doesn’t speak of Spinoza’s actual thought here, let alone of engagement with Spinoza’s writings, but instead only vaguely associates his earliest views with a kind of “Spinozism” of interest to young people around 1800. The German philosophical engagement with Spinoza is extraordinarily pervasive; regarding Nietzsche’s relation to Spinoza, for instance, see Yonover, Jason Maurice: “Nietzsche, Spinoza, and Etiology (On the Example of Free Will).” European Journal of Philosophy (forthcoming) as well as Yonover, Jason Maurice: “Nietzsche and Spinoza.” Blackwell Companion to Spinoza, ed. Melamed, Yitzhak Y. Oxford (forthcoming). Preul, Rainer: Reflexion und Gefühl: die Theologie Fichtes in seiner vorkantischen Zeit. Berlin 1969. Nohl, Hermann: “Miscellen zu Fichtes Entwicklungsgeschichte und Biographie.” In: KantStudien 16 (1911). Hommel, Karl Ferdinand: Ueber Belohnung und Strafen nach türkischen Gesetzen. Bayreuth & Leipzig 1772. Wildfeuer, Armin: “Vernunft als Epiphänomen der Naturkausalität: Zu Herkunft und Bedeutung des unsprünglichen Determinismus Fichtes.” In: Fichte-Studien 9 (1997). Wild-

10

yonover

of things, despite a few reservations.22 My aim is not to resolve any historical debate of influence; but if Fichte’s earliest views are to be traced back to a key figure, Hommel is the best candidate – and this tracing back is undoubtedly helpful in the present context. Thus, because Hommel is largely unknown today, a brief discussion of his relevant work is in order. Karl Ferdinand Hommel (1722–1781) was a jurist in Leipzig most interested in penal law, which he aimed to reform on the basis of determinism, the view that everything that happens happens as a result of prior events, and even necessitarianism, the view that everything that happens happens necessarily.23 In On Praise and Punishment, he starts off by trying to make these admittedly unintuitive positions more compelling in an informal way, noting the widelyheld “first principles” that human beings are thoroughly influenced by time

22

23

feuer, Armin: Praktische Vernunft und System. Entwicklungsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur ursprünglichen Kant-rezeption Johann Gottlieb Fichtes. Stuttgart 1999. See also La Vopa, Anthony: “Fichte’s Road to Kant.” In: Representations of the Self from the Renaissance to Romanticism, ed. Coleman, Lewis, & Kowalik. Cambridge 2000, pg. 218. “Fichte had probably first encountered the full-blown case for determinism in […] Hommel.” My first reservation is that Fichte doesn’t explicitly reference Hommel in the “Aphorisms,” or in any other texts prior, and so this story concerning Fichte’s influences still remains somewhat speculative. Wildfeuer: “Vernunft als Epiphänomen,” pg. 67 emphasizes that Fichte had expressed interest in legal study over theology while at Leipzig (ga iii,1: 18), which could have led him to Hommel or his work. My second reservation is that some theological-political aspects of Fichte’s view in the “Aphorisms” don’t seem traceable to Hommel. Wildfeuer is specifically interested in Fichte’s early determinism, which lends plausibility to his thesis that Hommel is central, but there is more to the rationalist view in the “Aphorisms” than this theoretical stance. This second reservation leads to a third, which is that the aspiration to trace a complex set of views to a single influence is of course misguided; but Nohl and perhaps also Wildfeuer seem to defend such strong theses, which can never be proven. In reality, it’s not convincing that any single thinker is – some might say – to blame for Fichte’s earliest stance. Fichte’s initial views presented in the “Aphorisms” must be considered a diverse synthesis of various strands of thought from the period, with plausible influences ranging from German Enlightenment thinkers (Spalding, Lessing, etc.) to also 18th-century rationalists, as shown by Preul. Fichte may have been familiar with the Leibnizian Platner’s work from early on, as he taught in Leipzig, as Hommel had before dying in 1781. Later, Fichte would use Platner’s Aphorisms as the basis for a lecture course in Jena. In any case, since Preul gives an inclusive account of Fichte’s earliest intellectual context, I refer the reader to his work and restrict myself to Hommel, who can plausibly be considered a key reference, particularly in the context of the present discussion concerning Fichte’s first first principles. For some further background on Hommel in English and a short bibliography, see Hüning, Dieter: “Hommel, Karl Ferdinand.” In: Dictionary of Eighteenth-Century Philosophers. New York 2010. I pull apart determinism and the stronger view that is necessitarianism because the distinction already played a role in the 18th century, as we shall see below.

fichte’s first first principles

11

and space – their historical moment and context.24 But Hommel soon clarifies that on a deeper level his views rest on an unconstrained endorsement of the Principle of Sufficient Reason or psr, which he sees as logically equivalent to the principle ex nihilo nihil fit [from nothing nothing comes].25 His reasons for taking up this principle so emphatically are rather weak, as they are grounded in experience.26 But this doesn’t stop him from developing throughout the text a fascinating account of free will as an illusion – an account which emphasizes both why we don’t have freedom of will and why we think we do. Furthermore, Hommel doesn’t stop here. He additionally argues a fictionalist line, according to which it’s best that we think we have free will even though we don’t have it.27 These ideas and others in On Praise and Punishment appear to have overwhelmingly impressed Fichte, and over a significant period of time.28 But why? Although this isn’t the place to reconstruct Hommel’s thinking, I do want to provide an account of the comparable deist view outlined in the “Aphorisms” – a view which, I’ll then argue, can be ascribed to the earliest Fichte himself. Of the few discussions of the “Aphorisms” available, none do justice to the consistency and therefore attractiveness of the ideas developed there; thus, I turn to this pressing task and provide a reconstruction of the “Aphorisms” in the following section.

3

Fichte’s “Aphorisms on Religion and Deism”

While the brief text of the “Aphorisms” begins with an account of Christianity qua religion, I start with the principles of “deism” in my reconstruction because it turns out that these are dominant. Fichte describes the “purely deistic system” as “oversee[ing]” religion (§16), which is clearly subordinate. Note that I speak of Fichte and ‘the deist’ interchangeably albeit loosely in this section; in

24 25 26

27 28

Hommel: Belohnung und Strafen, pg. 1 (of unpaged Preface). Hommel: Belohnung und Strafen, pg. 43 f. Hommel: Belohnung und Strafen, pg. 8. A posteriori arguments seem inadequate when it comes to motivating a fundamental rationalist principle like the psr. Still, more compelling defenses of the psr are surprisingly rare among those who endorse it. For a possible solution, see Yonover, Jason Maurice: “An Elenctic Defense of the psr” (manuscript). Hommel: Belohnung und Strafen, pg. 43, 159, etc. Nohl and Wildfeuer each note implicit and explicit references to Hommel – or rather von Joch – throughout Fichte’s works, notably including various versions of the Attempt at a Critique of All Revelation that was written as early as 1791 (ga i,1: 139; ga ii,2: 64).

12

yonover

the next section I back up this equivocation and reiterate that, although he’s wavering by the time he writes the “Aphorisms,” Fichte is ultimately still a deist in the sense outlined below.29 On my reading, the fundamental first principle of Fichte’s ‘deism’ is – as with Hommel’s – the psr,30 according to which nothing happens without a reason. Fichte associates respect for this principle with the mind, proof, and rigorous thinking in “Aphorisms.” There, I submit, he lets the psr hold with full force and criticizes anyone who tries to tame it in order to head in a different direction, namely in unjustified, and thus irrational, ways. He notes that “the philosophers that come to different [results] prove theirs just as cleverly”; but he accuses them of “sometimes look[ing] inward in the ongoing series of their inferences in order to start a new series with new principles [Principien] that they allow themselves to provide, from somewhere or other” (§ 15fn). In other words, nondeists, pseudo-rationalists, philosophers who want to constrain reason and the psr, fall prey to partiality. They see where the psr is taking them, and they look for a means of egress. ‘How can we step off this rationalist train?’ they ask.31 Fichte thinks that they would never end up where they end up if they instead inquired systematically in “undisturbed, ongoing inferences from the first principles [erste Grundsätze] of human cognition” (§ 15fn).32 In contrast to these inferior thinkers, Fichte the true rationalist wants reason that doesn’t set its goal in advance, reason that won’t be susceptible to the otherwise-warranted “suspicion that one does not go about one’s work entirely sincerely” (§14). Fichte thinks that if we pursue systematic inquiry along these lines – namely with the psr as our guide, thinking “straight ahead, looking neither left nor right, and without bothering about where one might arrive” (§ 15) – then we will come to a set of unshakeable “results” that he goes on to outline, and that we must now try to reconstruct in some detail. Fichte begins here with the claim that “[t]here is an eternal being whose existence, and whose manner of existing, is necessary” before proceeding to the

29

30 31 32

Although “deism” can of course mean several things, I don’t have the space to explore alternative conceptions and we must take up Fichte’s notion of it, as developed in the “Aphorisms.” Here I am in full agreement with Wildfeuer: “Vernunft als Epiphänomen,” pg. 62f. Concerning this terminology and more, I benefit from Della Rocca, Michael: “A Rationalist Manifesto.” In: Philosophical Topics 31 (2003, 1/2), as well as other recent work. Crusius referred to the Principle of Contradiction and the psr as the “grounds [Gründe] of human cognition” in a work we know Fichte was aware of (given the 1785 letter from Fiedler that I cite below). Crusius, Christian August: Ausführliche Abhandlung von dem rechten Gebrauche und der Einschränkung des sogenannten Satzes vom zureichenden oder besser determinirenden Grunde. Leipzig 1744, pg. 1.

fichte’s first first principles

13

supplementary qualification that the world came to be “[i]n and through the eternal and necessary thoughts of this being” (§ 15a–b). How are we to understand these theses, their relation, and the manner in which they might follow from the psr (which, I am arguing, is fundamental to the therefore rationalist view Fichte develops here)? Fichte doesn’t give us much to work with, but because the divine being is eternal, one might think, it cannot be limited; and because it cannot be limited, its existence is necessary. For what could stop it from existing? If it were to fail to exist, then according to the psr, there would have to be a reason for this. But none can be given, for God is presumably infinite. And yet, again because the psr holds without any caveats, everything that this divine being does, it does necessarily; there is a decisive reason why it does this and not that, which indicates that it couldn’t do otherwise, and so its thoughts are also necessary. Perhaps this being creates from such thoughts because it has only an ideal existence – because it’s eternal – but in any case, it’s no surprise, given that the world emerges from such necessary thoughts, that Fichte’s next claim reads: “every alteration in this world is necessarily determined by a sufficient cause [zureichende Ursache] to be the way it is” (§ 15c). If the proposition that everything has its reason bears on God and its creative thinking, then it should certainly bear on other beings too. What holds for any “alteration” in the world holds for us as, next, “even every thinking and sensing being must necessarily exist as it exists” (§15d). This key proposition clarifies that not only the physical (“sensing”) but also the mental (“thinking”) plays by the rules of the psr, i.e. that both realms are subject to necessity and determination. And why wouldn’t they be? If there were some gulf between the physical and the mental, such that the physical would be governed by necessity in contrast to the mental, what would be the reason for this differentiation? Fichte the “dogmatist” doesn’t think there is one. This world, which was created by the necessary thoughts of God – not, it’s important to note, through a free act of its ‘will’ – has no room for arbitrariness. God has no freedom of will, nor, of course, does the human being. “Neither its activity nor its passivity can without contradiction exist in any way other than how it does” (§ 15d). One might formulate this penultimate “result” of the psr as follows, keeping in mind that the “Aphorisms” presupposes a strong version of that rationalist principle: A thing’s alteration to some activity or passivity is because of reason r. To imagine that a thing’s activity or passivity could be otherwise is to imagine that the thing’s activity or passivity isn’t because of reason r. But, given the psr, even if the thing’s activity or passivity were for some reason other than reason r – let’s call this new reason reason n – then the source of this thing’s activity or passivity would just be reason n, and in this case equally necessary and determined by a particular reason. Really, for the thing to be otherwise than it has to be, it

14

yonover

would have to both be so for some reason r, n, etc. (as must be the case, given the psr) and yet not be so for that decisive reason (in order for indeterminacy to enter the picture). Hence, any thing’s activity or passivity couldn’t, without contradiction, be different, as Fichte indeed proposes. In short, the thing would need to generate some spontaneity in order to be otherwise; but this is ruled out. The last rationalist “result” of this sequence in the “Aphorisms” concerns sin: “what the common human sentiment calls sin emerges from the necessary, greater or lesser limitation of finite beings. It has necessary consequences for the condition of these beings” (§15e). Notably, each of these two clauses stresses the necessity of sin – and by now this should come as no surprise given the robust rationalist thinking at hand here. Regardless of whether or not some action can be categorized as sinful, that action was taken for a reason, necessarily, and without original input from the will. The qualification that highlights the limited human standpoint when it comes to sin (“what human sentiment calls sin”) also clearly calls into question the reality of the category. Such questioning is significant for the gap between religion and deism. It emphasizes again that religion resides below philosophical thinking, because the fundamental first principle of religion, which I turn to now, is that “there is sin,” which the sinner must atone for (§9). Fichte rather pejoratively classifies this foundational principle of religion – that humans sin and thus must reconcile themselves with God – as a “proposition of sentiment [Empfindungssatz]” (§10), and then glosses what follows from it, namely the other “first principles [erste Grundsätze] of the [Christian] religion,” as “grounded more in sentiments than convictions” (§ 12). Deism and its principles have a claim over all metaphysical matters, whereas religion and its principles trade in the passions and illusion. Yet, that being said, Fichte doesn’t recommend that we rid ourselves of religion on these grounds. In fact, it’s still quite important in some sense. Fichte the deist recognizes, indeed like Hommel, that the philosophical commitments he’s outlined won’t gain traction on most people. Fichte sees that even many so-called philosophers can’t handle the theses of §15. Thus, religion is there, and needs to be there, to comfort those who are pained by “needs of the heart” (§ 5). Here, even anthropomorphism – though false – is perfectly useful. Fichte helpfully summarizes in § 4 the abyss between philosophy and religion with respect to their notions of God: It seems to be a universal need of the human being that it seek certain properties in its God – properties which the first step to speculation must deny to the human being. Speculation will indicate to the human being

fichte’s first first principles

15

that God is immutable and incapable of any passions; and the human heart craves a God that may be petitioned, that feels compassion and friendship. Speculation indicates that God is a being that has no point of contact with man or anything else finite; but the human being wants a God that it may confide in, alongside whom it could participate in reciprocal modification. Rationalist philosophical thinking or “speculation” – what happens when the psr train is running at full speed – has results that may be difficult to digest. But for the earliest Fichte, that doesn’t make speculation any less reliable with respect to the truth. Likewise, the fact that the principles of religion aren’t at all true doesn’t make them any less useful. They’re clearly secondary, but some notions of God must be available for some people, and here Fichte can be understood to take up something like Hommel’s fictionalist line (according to which we don’t have free will but must imagine we do). Christianity does well on these terms, but ultimately this just means it’s “the best folk religion” (§ 16), and that’s a demotion by most measures. Interestingly, the text of “Aphorisms” doesn’t end here. Although, according to §16, deism and religion are supposed to autonomously rule their spheres, this admittedly implausible arrangement turns out not to hold. Things take a turn in §17, and deism and religion seem to clash. Throughout the final two paragraphs, Fichte turns to consider the anonymous “human being” that somehow remains unfulfilled by the deist truth. Speculation leaves this figure feeling empty. Religion gets revenge and exercises its pull against the proper convictions of the deist. Fichte concludes what seems to be a set of autobiographically-inspired reflections by wondering with real urgency what to do with such a person (perhaps a friend, perhaps increasingly himself). From Fichte’s perspective, solutions for this figure will begin arriving later in 1790, as I mention below. Meanwhile, with this reconstructive account of the “Aphorisms,” we can step back from the text and pose several questions. First, especially given this conclusion to the piece, is it so clear that Fichte in fact identifies with the “deist,” such that he is at this moment indeed what he would later call a dogmatist, as I promised to clarify? Fichte obviously casts deism as having a monopoly on truth in the “Aphorisms,” but – the thought might go – perhaps he still wants to escape the view and take up the religious stance, as epistemically weak as it is. In the next section I reject this suggestion. Doing so is especially urgent given what I consider to be conflicting texts by Fichte from the period. Second, if Fichte identifies with the deist here, how does he become the Fichte we generally know him to be? How can it be that just a few years later he will accuse

16

yonover

the kind of thinking developed in the “Aphorisms” of moral weakness and all the rest? I reach these questions starting in Section 5.

4

Fichte’s “Deism”

In this section I clarify not only that Fichte was a deist, and so dogmatist, when he wrote the “Aphorisms,” but that he had been grappling over the years prior to writing the “Aphorisms” with just the collision we encounter at the end of the piece, where it becomes clear that the religious majority may cause problems for the deist.33 To this end I provide evidence that Fichte held the relevant deist commitments well before 1790, and show that he had also dealt with the practical ramifications of holding such commitments that were in tension with erstwhile norms. As early as January 1785, Fichte receives a letter from the pastor Karl Gottlob Fiedler, stating: Your pleasant letter inspired numerous thoughts for me! So, you are unus ex illis [one of them]? I thought so, given a few different signals. […] I thus proceed to your idol: Necessity. – Its form is precisely measured, its guise is magnificent, its countenance is beautifully painted – yet, it is dry, mute, and a block that is there where it is and cannot be otherwise than how it is. Certainly, one thing follows another in the world […] but determination and necessity are reliably far from one another. ga iii,1: 9

Fiedler understood from Fichte’s correspondence that Fichte was a rationalist along the lines we later see sketched in the “Aphorisms.” Fiedler goes on to cite Crusius’s Thorough Treatise on the Proper Use and Restriction of the SoCalled Principle of Sufficient, or Better, Determining Reason (1744) to defend the view that psr-oriented thinking can be constrained, such that one could have determination without necessity.34 Although we are missing both Fichte’s initial letter and his response to Fiedler, it’s notable that Fichte will, about five years later, cite what he refers to in the “Aphorisms” as “a fearful Crusius” in 33 34

Preul: Reflexion und Gefühl, pgs. 119–121, in contrast, casts Fichte as first recognizing the relevant tensions between religion and deism only in the “Aphorisms.” Crusius, Christian August: Ausführliche Abhandlung von dem rechten Gebrauche und der Einschränkung des sogenannten Satzes vom zureichenden oder besser determinirenden Grunde. Leipzig 1744.

fichte’s first first principles

17

order to criticize the philosophical move in question, which, according to the strict rationalist Fichte, reveals that one is fraudulently timid (§ 14). In any case, Fiedler is a kind friend and promises to remain Fichte’s companion, hoping that necessity will bring him to visit in Elbersdorf before long. Aside from this letter at the beginning of 1785 – confirming that Fichte held his strict rationalist views prior to the Spinoza controversy sparked by Jacobi – there is then evidence both that Fichte held the deist view outlined in the “Aphorisms” well before writing the piece in 1790 and had to deal with this practically. For instance, in an interesting text written in 1787 addressed to the mother of the Ott estate he’s working at and whose children he’s tutoring,35 Fichte defends himself from accusations that he was a “deist, naturalist, or at least a very heterodox” thinker. He asks the mother in the drafted note: “Have I ever, even in the most private discussions, expressed a principle that was in contradiction with, I don’t [just] mean reason or scripture, but the generally accepted doctrinal concepts in symbolics […]?” Fichte doesn’t leave much room for her to answer this question, asserting in characteristically combative fashion: “I remember every word of mine very precisely” (ga ii,1: 186). But knowing that Fiedler’s letter and the “Aphorisms” together bookend the note, we have strong reason to think that such accusations must have been accurate. Fichte was more than likely ‘corrupting the youth.’ Given now that Fichte in all likelihood held his rationalist “deism” over a significant period of time and was fully aware of its controversial nature, I propose that a reevaluation of his earliest texts is in order. Fichte certainly does write things in the second half of the 1780s that are in deep tension with his apparent rationalist deism. For instance, he defines religiosity in his draft for a work on “The Purposes of the Death of Jesus” (1786) as felt conviction (ga ii,1: 79).36 Fichte explicitly uses there the terminology of head and heart that likewise shows up in the “Aphorisms.” But these are notably opposed in the “Aphorisms”; that is, according to the “Aphorisms,” there can be no true conviction about religious matters, because they are strictly matters of the heart and thus feeling. In the “Aphorisms,” head and heart are miles apart, whereas in the text on Jesus they are to be intimately united. According to the letter of that latter text, Fichte actually criticizes “merely outward, alleged Christians,” arguing that Christianity must be “a religion of the heart,” “of good hearts,” etc. (ga ii,1: 90) – not just a religion of “simple souls,” as in the “Aphorisms,” which are on balance disparaging of the religious standpoint (§12). Notably, if Fichte is still sympathetic to his 35 36

Although Fichte was hired to tutor the children, materials from this period show he spent a great deal of time tutoring the parents – or trying to. See also ga ii,1: 176.

18

yonover

strict rationalism here – as I propose, given that the letter from Fiedler of 1785 and the “Aphorisms” of 1790 form a border around these religious writings – then Fichte is technically criticizing himself, for he is unavoidably the sort of “Mundchrist” that comes under fire in his own “Death of Jesus.” But whereas Preul and other scholars take Fichte at his word, and so as highly conflicted,37 I propose that throughout the latter half of the 1780s Fichte is simply writing in a tactical way in theological pieces like the one just mentioned. Fichte suffers from an acute lack of resources at this moment; he was hoping to publish something and to receive work. Extant theological texts aren’t giving voice to Fichte’s true views because Fichte couldn’t safely give voice to his true views. Fichte indicates very clearly to anyone actually close to him that he is a strict “deist”; at the same time, he puts together such public-facing sermons to try to make ends meet. In other words, texts from at least the second half of the 1780s have to be read with a large grain of salt, and I propose that we can draw a line between esoteric and exoteric views in this period – where on the esoteric side we have the views developed in the “Aphorisms” and letters like those I cite here (see also below), and on the exoteric side we have what’s expressed in the draft on the “Death of Jesus,” the sermon on Luke, etc. Given what we know about Fichte’s “system” in this period and how he thinks it relates to orthodox religion, it’s fascinating to see him navigating religious matters. Things are not as simple as they seem.

5

Fichte’s Kantianism

We have seen in the previous sections both why Fichte may have kept quiet about his rationalism in certain contexts (Section 4), and why he may have found it philosophically compelling (Section 3). To reiterate: as we saw in the section before last, the psr – Fichte’s own very first first principle – allows for a kind of systematic unity that he will always aim for; and although religion doesn’t accept the results of what Fichte calls deism, even religious commitments following from the first principle of religion (that sin obtains) can be made sense of from within this dominant, properly philosophical system. But given the notable consistency of this strict rationalist stance that “dogmatically” posits a world of characterized by necessity and rules out free will, we must ask: why leave it behind? As I have noted, Fichte transitions away from his initial 37

La Vopa: “Fichte’s Road to Kant,” pg. 209 likewise finds in Fichte an “internal argument” at this stage, and Breazeale: Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, pg. 312n41 speaks of Fichte’s “struggling.”

fichte’s first first principles

19

rationalist views soon after writing the “Aphorisms.” Discussing why he undergoes such a shift will help us to understand his earliest stance, and it will put us in a better position to grasp Fichte’s best-known views developed in Jena, including the opposition he will eventually draw there between dogmatism and idealism, which I mentioned at the start of this paper. This stage of the story of Fichte’s philosophical development is more familiar to scholars.38 As is known, around 1790, Fichte is sustaining himself by tutoring students. One in particular asks Fichte to instruct him on the exciting work of a prominent contemporary philosopher: Kant. Important in our context is that it appears Fichte begins such work already prior to his writing the “Aphorisms,” given dismissive references to Kant in §13 and § 15n, the latter of which reveals exposure to the antinomies and more; but if not, then Fichte had clearly become familiar with Kant’s first critique by some other means.39 According to the “Aphorisms,” Kant sits in the same category as Crusius. These are reticent thinkers and not bold rationalists who would affirm the true results of philosophical thought. Fichte criticizes Kant in particular for hauling in the concept of freedom in an ad hoc manner: “for the sharpest defender of freedom that there ever has been, in Kant’s antinomies etc., the concept of freedom generally is given from somewhere else (from sentiment, no doubt)” (§ 15n). Kant’s second critique then makes all the difference for Fichte. In a letter to Friedrich August Weißhuhn later in 1790, just months after writing the “Aphorisms,” Fichte exclaims: I have been living in an entirely new world since reading the Critique of Practical Reason. Propositions which I thought could never be overturned have been overturned for me. Things have been proven to me which I thought could never be proven – for example, the concept of absolute freedom, the concept of duty, etc. – and I feel all the happier for it. ga iii,1: 167 | Early Philosophical Writings 357

In the “Aphorisms,” even God’s will was subject to necessity, as we saw in Section 3. Now, Fichte is convinced of nothing less than absolute freedom, writing that he “was deceived by [his] previous system, and thus are thousands of persons perhaps still deceived” (ibid.). It turns out that Fichte’s “previous system” 38 39

Breazeale’s editorial introduction to the Early Philosophical Writings provides a thrilling discussion of Fichte’s development around this time and forward. Wood: Ethical Thought, pg. 5 and “Fichte’s Absolute Freedom,” pg. 164 wrongly indicate that Fichte had been “entirely unacquainted” with Kant’s Critical writings while writing the “Aphorisms,” which obscures the nature of Fichte’s conversion. See my discussion below.

20

yonover

isn’t the only one available. It’s not even the most preferable one – and to a significant degree. In a letter to his fiancée Johanna Marie Rahn, Fichte similarly writes: “Tell your dear father, whom I love like my own: we were mistaken in our investigations into the necessity of all human acts, no matter how correct our inferences may have been, because we disputed on a false principle [Princip]” (ga iii,1: 171).40 It’s clear enough what Fichte is enthusiastic about in Kant’s practical philosophy, as “absolute freedom, the concept of duty, etc.” have been proven. But why should these be of interest? Or, to put the question otherwise, what is it that makes Fichte’s former principles false? Although many commentators have emphasized what Fichte found attractive in Kant,41 none have yet posed this latter query as directly as one must. In the “Aphorisms,” Fichte characterizes his deism, which thoroughly denies freedom of will, as follows: it “has no damaging, but rather has, next to the system that it entirely oversees [i.e., the religious one], an exceedingly useful influence on morality” (§ 16). Here, deism is straightforwardly regarded to be morally beneficial. Furthermore, at least on Fichte’s initial formulation, it “does not hinder our honoring [Christianity] to be the best folk religion, and our recommending it with utter warmth to those that need it.” The only disadvantage of being a deist, for Fichte at this moment, is that one can’t participate in certain religious activities with sincerity, and one might miss out on some things here. This doesn’t seem sufficient to justify a paradigm shift. Just some months later, however, Fichte is convinced that the deism he once praised is almost morally bankrupt.42 Fichte writes to Heinrich Nikolaus Achelis, again in late 1790: It has […] become quite obvious to me that very harmful consequences for society follow from the accepted principle of necessity, and just as 40

41

42

Unpublished translation by Eckart Förster. Fichte goes on to indicate in the letter that he no longer thinks life is about “happiness [Glück]” but rather “worthiness to be happy [Glückwürdigkeit]”; yet this should not be taken to specify the principle shift Fichte has in mind. Instead, the shift is that he will no longer hold as a first principle the psr, referred to in this letter as the “principle of necessity.” See also ga iii,1: 195, where Fichte chides himself for having previously spread “false principles” and considers making up for this by popularizing Kant’s moral philosophy and its “first principles.” This has been widely discussed in the literature, starting at least with Kabitz, Willy: Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Fichteschen Wissenschaftslehre aus der Kantischen Philosophie. Berlin 1902. I qualify this statement with “almost” because Fichte will still regard a “dogmatist” like Spinoza with respect as an admirable human being, as Wood: Ethical Thought, 72n6 also notes. Spinoza is, however, an exception to the rule on Fichte’s eventual view.

fichte’s first first principles

21

obvious that this is largely the source of the tremendous ethical corruption of the so-called better classes. If someone who accepts the principle of necessity still manages to avoid this corruption, the reason for this is by no means the harmlessness, let alone the utility, of this principle. ga iii,1: 193 f. | Early Philosophical Writings 361, trans. mod.

In other words, Fichte’s concludes that his erstwhile rationalist stance turns out to be ideological in the Marxian sense, and it’s this shift that explains his more general transformation. Ever concerned with practical matters, Fichte had already bemoaned the “oppression of the lower [classes], particularly the agricultural one” in other early writings of the 1780s (ga ii,1: 103). Now he connects such oppression to “deist,” “dogmatist,” strict rationalist thinking,43 which serves the interests of the ruling class, and, to make explicit Fichte’s reversal, can then be of no positive utility as concerns morality. According to the postconversion Fichte, we must now consider deism to have a damaging influence, ethically speaking.44 In short, Fichte’s view concerning his earlier metaphysical rationalism’s moral value flips.45 We have finally seen why Fichte is thrilled to affirm fundamental aspects of Kant’s practical philosophy, and why he will go on to develop it, unifying the theoretical and the practical in a new way. Before concluding this penultimate section, however, two things must be noted: First, although I have argued that Fichte’s initial deepest philosophical commitment is to the psr, there could appear to be a sense in which his dedication

43

44

45

Worries about the political ramifications of a metaphysics characterized by necessity appear in numerous practically-oriented, radical thinkers. Compare, for instance, Fanon, Frantz: The Wretched of the Earth, trans. Philcox. New York 2004, pg. 18. “The colonized subject also manages to lose sight of the colonist through religion. Fatalism relieves the oppressor of all responsibility since the cause of wrong-doing, poverty, and the inevitable can be attributed to God. The individual thus accepts the devastation decreed by God, grovels in front of the colonist, bows to the hand of fate, and mentally readjusts to acquire the serenity of stone.” Recent empirical research suggests that, at least today, the sort of worries Fichte has could be misplaced. See Crone & Levy’s paper “Are Free Will Believers Nicer People? (Four Studies Suggest Not).” In: Social Psychological and Personality Science 10 (2018, 10). But more work is needed, and with a more social perspective. For further background on Fichte’s thoroughly moral stance around this time, see the “Haphazard Thoughts on a Sleepless Night [Zufällige Gedanken in einer schlaflosen Nacht]” (1788) in ga, ii,1: 103–110. On Fichte’s reception of the French Revolution, which may shed further light on his shift regarding the moral value of his earlier views, see La Vopa, Anthony J.: “The Revelatory Moment: Fichte and the French Revolution.” In: Central European History 22 (1989).

22

yonover

to the primacy of the practical is already present in the “Aphorisms,” and so perhaps equally fundamental. In fact, maybe it’s even more fundamental, given that Fichte holds on to it following his Kantian conversion. According to this line of thinking, Fichte merely changes his mind in a drastic way about what’s preferable practically speaking – perhaps for more detailed biographical reasons that we will never understand – but his commitment to the practical persists. Thus, on a looser construal of a ‘first principle,’ one could say that the primacy of the practical is Fichte’s first first principle. However, I reject this move because it departs too much from Fichte’s notion of a first principle. For Fichte, a first principle must be propositional in nature and precede several other basic propositions that constitute a system, like the psr.46 Second, I must point out that despite Fichte’s harsh words about his previous commitments, he isn’t actually so sure for some time what to do with the psr, the first foundational principle he took up. In fact, the psr explicitly sticks around even after the “Aphorisms” and Fichte’s Kantian conversion just sketched. For instance, in the roughly-formulated “Meditations on Elementary Philosophy” (1793/4), Fichte has a brief metaphysical rationalist lapse, and considers the possibility that the psr is preeminent before reminding himself of his conversion. “I must have an unconditioned, an absolute, a highest unity: that would perhaps be the Principle of Sufficient Reason [Satz des Grundes] – ultimately the categorical imperative,” he writes (ga ii,3: 48). More work is needed to determine how Fichte might aim to preserve the psr in his mature thought, though it’s clear that the psr is no longer the foundational first principle after 1790.

46

See my note 4 above. Additionally, Fichte does confusingly claim in the letter to Achelis I’ve just cited that he always knew deism was ethically lacking, and yet felt he had to affirm it anyway. This would indicate that Fichte once held the theoretical to have primacy, and did then undergo a shift here. Fichte writes: “I realized this truth [that duty, virtue, and morality are all possible only if freedom is presupposed] very well earlier – perhaps I said as much to you – but I felt that the entire sequence of my inferences forced me to reject morality” (ga iii,1: 193 | Early Philosophical Writings 360f.). Were I to propose that Fichte consistently affirms the primacy of the practical, and that this rather than the psr is truly the first first principle he subscribes to, then I would simply argue that Fichte is writing revisionist history here, because he is. Fichte explicitly affirms the positive moral benefits of deism in the “Aphorisms” at § 16, as I have previously noted, and he’s likewise careful not to dismiss Christianity’s practical utility in developing his theological-political stance. In other words, although I don’t propose that Fichte’s first principle is the primacy of the practical since this doesn’t seem in line with his use of the term “first principle,” I do want to stress that Fichte is already a practically-minded thinker in the “Aphorisms,” where – like other rationalists preceding him – he holds that determinism, necessitarianism, and the like are of great practical value.

fichte’s first first principles

6

23

Conclusion

The results of the previous sections cast light on Fichte’s Kantian conversion. Fichte portrays himself as a follower of Kant in central texts like “Introductions” to the Wissenschaftslehre of 1797, where he will argue “that [his] system is nothing other than the Kantian” (ga i,4: 184 | Science of Knowledge 4). Fichte makes reference to numerous aspects of Kant’s philosophy in these early works, for instance invoking what has been called Kant’s ‘Copernican revolution’ when writing of the “complete reversal of current modes of thought [völlige Umkehrung der Denkart]” his Wissenschaftslehre should effect (ibid.).47 Fichte even tries to paint Kant as one of his own concerning the notion of intellectual intuition.48 But these attempts to claim a Kantian lineage are inconsistently compelling. Fichte is most fundamentally a Kantian in central texts like the “Introductions” in that he thinks it important to affirm freedom of will, and in that he argues we easily can do so on the basis of practical reason. According to Kant’s defense of the Fact of Reason in the second Critique (aa v: 30), because we are conscious of the moral law, we must be free. With this in mind, references to the moral law in Fichte’s “Second Introduction” of 1797 and elsewhere – references which might otherwise seem out of place – make perfect sense. The “Second Introduction” is specifically written “for readers that already have a philosophical system” (ga i,4: 209 | Science of Knowledge 29), primarily “dogmatists,” and we are now in the best position to see that, in many passages of this text, Fichte is essentially writing his autobiography. He is implicitly clarifying what made him leave his metaphysical rationalism behind, hoping that his account might have the same effect on others. In defending his new “mode [of philosophical thought] wherein speculation and the moral law are most intimately united” (ga i,4: 219 | Science of Knowledge 41), Fichte emphasizes that alternative views denying the selfsufficiency of the I also deny the moral law. Or he proposes that we can affirm the self-sufficiency of the I by noticing that we are conscious of the moral law and hence free. In a crucial passage, Fichte notes that it’s one thing to clarify the intellectual intuition that is central to his Wissenschaftslehre – that of the self-positing I – and distinguishes this from another pursuit, in which Kant succeeded, and which then enabled Fichte to develop the Wissenschaftslehre.

47 48

Compare Kant: “revolution of the way of thinking”; “alteration of the way of thinking” (aa iii: 7–10). See ga i,4: 225 | Science of Knowledge 46.

24

yonover

It is a wholly different task to explain this intellectual intuition – here presupposed as a fact – in terms of its possibility, and, by this deduction from the system of reason as a whole, to defend it against the suspicion of fallacy and delusion which it incurs by conflicting with the dogmatic mode of thought that is no less grounded in reason; to confirm on yet higher grounds the belief in its reality, from which, by our own express admission, transcendental idealism assuredly sets out, and to vindicate in reason even the interest on which it is based. This comes about solely by exhibition of the moral law in us, wherein the self is presented as a thing sublime beyond all original modifications effected by that law; is credited with an absolute activity founded only in itself and in nothing whatever; and is thus characterized as an absolute agency [Tätiges]. ga i,4: 219 | Science of Knowledge 40 f.

Even what are normally considered Fichte’s first principles depend on something else, namely our recognizing our freedom in a manner that closely parallels the thought experiments Kant references as he defends his Fact of Reason. One can proceed from the I that isn’t a thing among things because one is obligated to do so. In short, “only through this medium of the moral law do I behold myself” (ga i,4: 219 | Science of Knowledge 41). This is what makes Fichte a Kantian, and where he most convincingly presents himself as such. But it isn’t what leads to his conversion. So long as he thinks deism is worthy in practical respects, it seems, he can hold onto that stance without much worry. Yet Fichte changes his mind on deism’s practical value completely, as I emphasized in the previous section, and so he needs Kant in order to generate what he can take to be a newly coherent and systematic view. Additionally, I have proposed above not only that the Fichte of the second half of the 1780s has a rather steady set of views – what he’ll later refer to in the letter to Weißhuhn as his “previous system” – but also that he knew good and well what trouble such views could get him in. What I have called Fichte’s exoteric writings in the period deserve to be re-examined with this in mind. I also argued that the most fundamental principles of the “Aphorisms,” where we’re presented with Fichte’s first discussion of first principles, were the metaphysical rationalist’s psr (deism) and the Empfindungsatz that there is sin which the human being must atone for (religion). At his earliest stage, Fichte subscribes to the former principle – he clearly thinks the rationalist deism resulting from strict adherence to the psr dominates where the truth is concerned, and that it has practical value as well – but Fichte maintains some room for religion and its practical, affective strengths when it comes to the broader public too.

fichte’s first first principles

25

Further work is needed to clarify the status of the psr in Fichte’s mature thought. Fichte makes it seem like he left everything behind after digesting Kant’s second critique – he says he’s now in “an entirely new world” – but as I have already clarified, this is hyperbolic.49 In fact, that may be what makes Fichte so interesting. He remains sympathetic to rationalism in many ways. He wants to beat the rationalist at their own game by developing a more rigorous Kantianism. Fichte does certainly change his mind when it comes to his views about the philosophical issues he initially considers to be central, particularly the question concerning freedom of will. But Fichte maintains his systematic, principled aspirations that emerge from his original commitment to the psr. He always notes that dogmatism is significantly coherent, and compliments it in admitting that it’s the only real alternative to his own philosophical system, i.e. idealism. Fichte also continues to think in what might be called stance binaries, indeed with “first principles” on each side. In the 1790 “Aphorisms,” we have the two stances of deism and religion, with their fundamental commitments in each case; and in the 1797 “Introductions,” we similarly have idealism and dogmatism.50 The mature Fichte certainly doesn’t find himself torn in any way, as one might think he is at the end of the “Aphorisms” in some respects, prior to the major shift in his thinking later in 1790. The Fichte of the Wissenschaftslehre confidently chooses the idealist “system of freedom” with no anxiety about it. But there is still this pair of options and a good deal of theater, which makes Fichte an exciting predecessor to many other thinkers with existentialist leanings, and might even help us to see what is at stake as we face a renewed interest in rationalism within contemporary metaphysics.51

49 50

51

Wood: Ethical Thought, pg. 5 also notes continuities from the deist to the Kantian Fichte. Regarding idealism and dogmatism, Fichte writes: “Neither of these two systems can directly refute the opposing one; for the dispute between them is a dispute concerning the first principle, i.e., concerning a principle that cannot be derived from any higher principle” (ga i,2: 191 | Science of Knowledge 15). On recent work in this area, see again my notes 7 and 31 above. I am grateful to an anonymous referee, Martin Bollacher, Daniel Burnfin, Michael Della Rocca, Eckart Förster, Michelle Kosch, Dean Moyar, Michael Nance, Katrin Pahl, Rory Phillips, Allen Wood, and David W. Wood as well as attendees at a conference organized under the umbrella of the Leuven Research Group in Classical Germany Philosophy, at a colloquium session of the German Philosophy Reading Group at the University of California-San Diego, and at a workshop associated with the Atkins Goethe Conference at the University of Chicago for their comments on earlier drafts of this paper. I am also indebted to Daniel Breazeale for sharing his draft translation of the “Aphorisms,” which enabled me to make several improvements to my own.

26

yonover

Appendix Some Aphorisms on Religion and Deism52 J.G. Fichte 1) 2)

3)

4)

5)

6)

52

53

The Christian religion is built on a set of propositions that are presupposed as accepted. There is no room for inquiry beyond these. In order to determine the content of this religion precisely, one must first search out these propositions. From them, everything else follows, and through the most correct inferences, with utmost clarity. A collection of these propositions without the slightest interference from philosophical reasoning [Raisonnement] would be a canon of this religion. This religion considers God only insofar as he can have a relation to the human being. Investigations concerning God’s objective existence are restricted [abgeschnitten]. It seems to be a universal need of the human being that it seek certain properties in its God – properties which the first step to speculation must deny to the human being. Speculation will indicate to the human being that God is immutable and incapable of any passions; and the human heart craves a God that may be petitioned, that feels compassion and friendship. Speculation indicates that God is a being that has no point of contact with man or anything else finite; but the human heart wants a God that it may confide in, alongside whom it could participate in reciprocal modification. The religions prior to Jesus, even the Jewish one, all made use of anthropomorphism in order to satisfy these needs of the heart – initially more, but then progressively less. This means was only sufficient until human reason raised itself to a more consistent concept of the deity. [The earlier one] did not fit a religion for all times and peoples. In the Christian religion, which was supposed to be that, the system of mediation was chosen.*53 In what follows, I present for the first time in English a complete translation of ga ii,1: 287–291, i.e. the material first published by Fichte’s son under the title “Einige Aphorismen über Religion und Deismus (Fragment).” Bracketed three-digit numbers refer to pages of the ga. Only a partial translation into English was previously available in Stine: The Doctrine of God, pgs. 3–7. Notes marked with * are Fichte’s own, whereas notes with Arabic numerals are either mine or those of the ga. * In the pagan religions, the lower gods – particularly the Penates, the Lares, etc. – were truly personal mediators between men and the higher gods. Since, after Jesus, mankind sank down again, a set of mediators emerged in the papacy, namely the saints (proof, it

fichte’s first first principles

27

7)

All properties of God that can relate to humans [288] are attributed to Jesus; he is posited as the God of man. Beyond this, concerning the objective being of Jesus, investigations are restricted. 8) Those properties that the human heart seeks in its God are also ascribed to Jesus, though man’s understanding does not find them in him, i.e. compassion, heartfelt friendship, mobility. A consideration of the apostles: He is tempted as we are, in order that he would learn to be merciful,54 and the like.*55 Investigations into the manner in which this gentle humanity exists simultaneously with God’s higher divine properties are, again, restricted. 9) The first principle [Grundsatz] of the older religions, and also of the newer, so far as I am aware, has been: there is sin, and the sinner cannot draw near to God in any way other than through certain reconciliations. A proof that, again, this proposition is grounded in the general sentiment of the non-speculating portion of humanity. 10) The Christian religion presupposes this proposition as a proposition of sentiment [Empfindungssatz], without getting involved with its how and its objective validity. – Anyone who becomes a Christian is not in need of any ulterior reconciliation; through ordained religion (by means of the death of Jesus), the path to the grace of God is opened to anyone who believes in it in a heartfelt manner. Anyone who feels the need for a reconciliatory sacrifice [Versöhnopfer] may simply see this death as one’s own:56 – That, it seems to me, is what the apostles say. 11) When one proceeds from these propositions, Everything [sic] in the [Christian] religion seems to fit together perfectly. When one goes beyond these propositions in one’s investigation, one becomes entangled in infinite difficulties and contradictions.*57 12) These first principles of the religion [ersten Grundsätze der Religion] are grounded more in sentiments than convictions; in the need to unite with God; in [289] the feeling of one’s sinful misery [Sündenelend] and of one’s culpability; etc. The Christian religion thus seems more determined for

54 55

56 57

seems to me, that this need [which I have spoken of above] is grounded in the innermost nature of the non-speculating [portion of] humanity). Hebrews 4:15. * Observations concerning the fate of Jesus from this point of view, as formation and presentation of the human God of human beings, would cast new light on the entirety of religion, and give the meager state of the life of Jesus a new fruitfulness. Romans 5:10; Ephesians 2:16; etc. * Even Paul, it appears to me, overstepped this boundary of Christianity with his subtle investigations concerning predestination in his letters to the Romans.

28

yonover

the heart than for the understanding. It does not want to impose itself via demonstrations; it wants to be sought out from need. It seems to be a religion of good and simple souls. – The strong have no need of the doctor, rather the sick – I am come to call the sinners to repentance – and such sayings.58 – Hence the obscurity that floats around it and should float around it; hence the fact that very feasible means of [securing] an urgent conviction, e.g. the appearance of Jesus before the entire Jewish nation after his resurrection,59 the desired sign from heaven,60 and the like – were not employed. 13) It is curious that in the first century unlearned apostles restricted their investigations just where the greatest thinker of the 18th century, Kant, certainly without reference to them, draws the boundary – at investigation into the objective being of God, at the investigations concerning freedom, imputation, guilt, and punishment. 14) When one goes beyond these boundaries, without, however, letting one’s investigation take its free course; when one, at the outset of one’s thought, sets the goal regarding where one wants to arrive, in order, so far as possible, to unite speculation with the dicta of religion, then a house emerges, built in the sky, that has very loosely been put together with disparate materials – for a fearful Crusius, less capable of fantasy, a religious philosophy,61 and for braver and wittier newer theologians, a philosophical religion, or a deism that, as deism, is not worth much. Moreover, with this sort of activity one arouses the suspicion that one does not go about one’s work entirely sincerely. 15) If one proceeds with one’s contemplation straight ahead, looking neither left nor right, and without bothering about where one might arrive, then one comes, it seems to me, surely to the following results:*62 [290] 58 59 60 61

62

Matthew 9:12–13. Acts 2:32, 3:15. Matthew 12:38; Luke 11:29; Matthew 27:40, 42. Fichte may have in mind Crusius’s Thorough Treatise on the Proper Use and Restriction of the So-Called Principle of Sufficient, or Better, Determining Reason (1744). Fiedler mentions some of Crusius’s relevant views in a 1785 letter discussing Fichte’s early metaphysical rationalism; see my discussion above in Section 4. * I know that the philosophers that come to different [results] prove theirs just as cleverly; but I also know that they sometimes look inward in the ongoing series of their inferences in order to start a new series with new principles [Principien] that they allow themselves to provide, from somewhere or other. Thus, for instance, for the sharpest defender of freedom that there ever has been, in Kant’s antinomies etc., the concept of freedom generally is given from somewhere else (from sentiment, no doubt), and he does nothing in his proof aside from [trying to] justify it and clarify it: since he, on the contrary, never would have

fichte’s first first principles

29

a)

There is an eternal being whose existence, and whose manner of existing, is necessary. b) In and through the eternal and necessary thoughts of this being, the world emerged. c) Every alteration in this world is necessarily determined by a sufficient cause [zureichende Ursache] to be the way it is. – The first cause of every modification is the original thought [Ur-Gedanke] of the deity. d) Thus, even every thinking and sensing being must necessarily exist as it exists. – Neither its activity nor its passivity can without contradiction be otherwise than how it is. e) What the common human sentiment calls sin emerges from the necessary, greater or lesser limitation of finite beings. It has necessary consequences for the condition of these beings that are just as necessary as the existence of the deity, and thus indelible. 16) This purely deistic system does not contradict the Christian religion, but rather leaves to it its entirely subjective validity; it does not falsify Christianity, for it does not come into any collision with it; deism has no damaging influence, but rather has, next to the system that it entirely oversees, an exceedingly useful influence on morality;63 it does not hinder our honoring Christianity to be the best folk religion, and our recommending it with the most inner warmth to those that need it, if one only has a little consistency and sensitivity. But the purely deistic system effects a certain inflexibility, and hinders one’s own participation in the pleasant sensations that flow from religion. 17) Nonetheless, there can be certain moments wherein the heart takes vengeance on speculation, wherein it turns with fervent desire to the God that has been recognized as implacable, as though he will change his great plan for the sake of an individual, [291] wherein the sensation of some observable help, of an almost undeniable prayer-answering [GebetsErhörung], shakes the entire system into pieces, and – when the feeling of the disapproval of God regarding sin is universal – wherein an urgent desire for a reconciliation emerges.

63

come to a concept of the sort in undisturbed, ongoing inferences from the first principles [erste Grundsätze] of human cognition. As I have explained in Section 5 above, Fichte reverses his perspective on this crucial issue later in 1790, arguing that the determinist, necessitarian stance is reactionary and of benefit only to the upper classes, as an ideological tool. See ga iii,1: 193f.

30

yonover

18) How should one handle such a human being [that is experiencing as much]? In the sphere of speculation, this human being seems immovable. One cannot get at someone like this with proofs of the truth of the Christian religion; for someone like this admits such truth only insofar as one can prove it to them, and they claim the impossibility of accepting such a truth themselves. Such a human being realizes the advantages that pass by as a result; they can wish for them with the most fervent desire; but it is impossible for them to believe. – The only means of rescue for them would be to restrict speculation that goes beyond the boundary line. But can someone like this do what they want to do? if the deceptiveness of these speculations is proven to them so convincingly – can they do it? can they do it, when this kind of thinking has already become natural, has already been woven together with the entire twist of their spirit? –

Bibliography Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Fichte’s Early Philosophical Writings, ed. Breazeale, Daniel. Ithaca 1993. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Gesamtausgabe, eds. Gliwitzky H., Jacob H., Lauth R., & Fuchs E. et al. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1962–2012. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Science of Knowledge, ed. Heath, Peter & Lachs, John. Cambridge 1991. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Sämtliche Werke, ed. Fichte, I.H. Berlin 1971. Breazeale, Daniel. Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre: Themes from Fichte’s Early Philosophy. Oxford 2013. Crone, Damien L. & Levy, Neil L. “Are Free Will Believers Nicer People? (Four Studies Suggest Not).” In: Social Psychological and Personality Science 10 (2018, 10). Crusius, Christian August. Ausführliche Abhandlung von dem rechten Gebrauche und der Einschränkung des sogenannten Satzes vom zureichenden oder besser determinirenden Grunde. Leipzig 1744. Della Rocca, Michael. “A Rationalist Manifesto: Spinoza and the Principle of Sufficient Reason.” In: Philosophical Topics 31 (2003, 1/2). Fichte, I.H. Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Leben und litterarischer Briefwechsel. Sulzbach 1830– 1831. Hüning, Dieter. “Hommel, Karl Ferdinand.” In: Dictionary of Eighteenth-Century Philosophers, ed. Klemme, Heiner F. & Kuehn, Manfred. New York 2010. Hommel, Karl Ferdinand. Ueber Belohnung und Strafen nach türkischen Gesetzen. Bayreuth & Leipzig 1772. Kabitz, Willy. Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Fichteschen Wissenschaftslehre

fichte’s first first principles

31

aus der Kantischen Philosophie. Mit bisher ungedruckten Stücken aus Fichtes Nachlass. Berlin 1902. La Vopa, Anthony J. “Fichte’s Road to Kant.” In: Representations of the Self from the Renaissance to Romanticism, ed. Coleman, Patrick, Lewis, Jayne & Kowalik, Jill. Cambridge 2000. La Vopa, Anthony J. “The Revelatory Moment: Fichte and the French Revolution.” In: Central European History 22 (1989). Lin, Martin & Melamed, Yitzhak Y. “The Principle of Sufficient Reason.” In: Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Zalta, Edward N. (2016). https://plato.stanford.edu/​ archives/spr2018/entries/sufficient‑reason/ Medicus, Fritz. J.G. Fichte: Dreizehn Vorlesungen gehalten an der Universität Halle. Berlin 1905. Noack, Ludwig. Fichte nach seinem Leben, Lehren und Wirken. Leipzig 1862. Nohl, Hermann. “Miscellen zu Fichtes Entwicklungsgeschichte und Biographie.” In: Kant-Studien 16 (1911). Preul, Rainer. Reflexion und Gefühl: die Theologie Fichtes in seiner vorkantischen Zeit. Berlin 1969. Stine, Russell Warren. The Doctrine of God in the Philosophy of Fichte. Philadelphia 1945. Verweyen, Jürgen. “Fichte’s Philosophy of Religion.” In: The Cambridge Companion to Fichte, ed. James, David & Zöller, Günther. Cambridge 2016. Wildfeuer, Armin. Praktische Vernunft und System. Entwicklungsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur ursprünglichen Kant-rezeption Johann Gottlieb Fichtes. Stuttgart 1999. Wildfeuer, Armin. “Vernunft als Epiphänomen der Naturkausalität: Zu Herkunft und Bedeutung des unsprünglichen Determinismus Fichtes.” In: Fichte-Studien 9 (1997). Wood, Allen W. “Fichte’s Absolute Freedom.” In: The Free Development of Each: Studies on Freedom, Right, and Ethics in Classical German Philosophy. Oxford 2014. Wood, Allen W. Fichte’s Ethical Thought. Oxford 2016. Yonover, Jason M. “An Elenctic Argument for the psr” (manuscript). Yonover, Jason M. “Nietzsche and Spinoza.” Blackwell Companion to Spinoza, ed. Melamed, Yitzhak Y. Oxford (forthcoming). Yonover, Jason M. “Nietzsche, Spinoza, and Etiology (On the Example of Free Will).” European Journal of Philosophy (forthcoming).

2 General Logic and the Foundational Demonstration of the First Principle in Fichte’s Eigene Meditationen and Early Wissenschaftslehre David Sommer

Abstract In this paper I inquire into the role of general logic in Fichte’s early formulations of his first principle. This inquiry contains three main parts. First, I summarize the role of general logic in Kant’s theoretical philosophy, as well as Gottlob Schulze’s critical claims regarding their relation in Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie. Second, I examine the first three sections of Fichte’s private notes on the Elementarphilosophie, called the Eigene Meditationen, and closely follow his early attempts to provide a basic principle that is systematically prior both to Reinhold’s principle of consciousness, as well as the logical principle of contradiction. I examine Fichte’s struggles with relating the principles of a foundational transcendental philosophy to those of general logic, in order to emphasize his own doubts in systematically motivating the use of logical rules in the exhibition of his first principle. In the third section, I examine the manner in which these principles are introduced in the 1794 Wissenschaftslehre via the logical principles of identity and contradiction, and argue that Fichte’s procedure is problematic given the programmatic constraints on general logic put forward in the meditations on the philosophy of the elements. I conclude by briefly relating Fichte’s doubts in such a procedure, as well as an alternative procedure he already proposed in his private notes, to the method that he would later adopt in the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo.

Keywords Fichte – Reinhold – Aenesidemus – logic – transcendental philosophy

1

Introduction

This paper will investigate the role of general logic in the foundational exhibition of the Wissenschaftslehre with respect to four claims concerning the

© David Sommer, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_003

general logic and the foundational demonstration

33

principles of the former and the latter, which are common to Fichte’s early writings in 1793 and 1794. I will do so over the course of three main sections. The first section gives an overview of the context in which Fichte came to investigate the role of general logic. I will very briefly summarize the role of general logic in Kant’s theoretical philosophy, as well as Schulze’s critical claims regarding their relation in Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie. This section also contains a timeline of Fichte’s early writings on this issue, and lists four basic claims regarding general logic common to these texts. In the second section, I will examine the first three sections of Fichte’s Eigene Meditationen über Elementarphilosophie in order to draw out the problems he wrestles with in making these four claims. Finally, I will look at Fichte’s formulation of the four claims concerning general logic in his published works Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftlehre (1794) and Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre (1794), and the role logical principles assume in the presentation of the three basic principles in the latter. My pervasive reference to these claims in reading these texts is not only an attempt to organize the material, but also to highlight the difference between programmatic claims on the one hand, and claims made in service of carrying out the program on the other.1

2

The Context: Kant, Reinhold, Aenesidemus

Fichte first publicly hinted at his notion of an intellectual intuition serving as the foundational Tathandlung of the I in his review of Gottlob E. Schulze’s 1792 attack on Reinhold titled Aenesidemus. This text had a profound impact on his view of the state of Kantian philosophy. As Frederick Beiser puts it, “Aenesidemus had […] convinced him that the critical philosophy had to be rebuilt upon a completely new foundation to secure it against skeptical objections”.2 One of the most important issues raised by Aenesidemus in these objections is the relation of general logic to transcendental philosophy. Kant distinguished general logic from transcendental logic by stating that the former concerns only the (inferential) relations between thoughts, and the rules according to which concepts must be combined if they are to constitute thoughts. Contrary to transcendental logic, general logic must therefore abstract from any reference of thought to an object.3 In the metaphysical deduction, Kant famously claimed 1 All quotes from Fichte citing Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, as well of Claesges 1974, Lauth 2015, Schick 2010, Paimann 2006, Reinhold, and Schulze are my translation. 2 Beiser, Frederick: German Idealism: The Struggle against Subjectivism 2008, 242. 3 Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft: B79|A55.

34

sommer

that the basic forms of general logic nevertheless provide a clue or guiding thread for the derivation of the pure categories of the understanding, which in turn constitute the forms of transcendental logic. I will not discuss Reinhold’s philosophy beyond what is absolutely necessary to understand Aenesidemus’ objection and Fichte’s reaction to the latter, but simply turn immediately to the principle of consciousness, which he proposed to be the fundamental principle grounding a system of transcendental, and indeed, all philosophy: “In consciousness, representation is distinguished from the subject and the object and related to both”.4 In Aenesidemus (1792), Schulze sets out to judge this principle in accordance with two assumptions he takes to be basic:5 1. (Actual Fact): There are representations in us with certain characteristics, some of which differ while others agree. 2. (Rule of Judgment): The touchstone of all that is true is general logic, and all reasoning about matters of fact can lay claim to correctness only to the extent that it conforms to the laws of logic. ‘Aenesidemus’ claims that, without doubt, the principle of consciousness captures a distinction and relation that characterizes the structure of some states of consciousness, but it cannot be an absolutely first principle that is “subordinated to another proposition in no respect, and absolutely undetermined by any other [proposition]”.6 Instead, “As a proposition and judgment, it is subordinated to the highest rule of all judgment, namely the principle of contradiction, according to which nothing that can be thought must contain contradictory marks, and is determined through this principle in respect to its form and in respect to the connection of the therein occurring subject and predicate”.7 Consequently, the principle of consciousness must play second fiddle at the very least to the law of contradiction, and the supposed Elementarphilosophie8 is subordinate to general logic. Apart from Aenesidemus’ attack on faculty-based theorizing, this is the only claim rejected by Fichte in an unqualified form, and he refers to Reinhold’s claim that the principle of consciousness does stand under that of contradiction, but “not as under a principle through which it is determined, but merely as a law, which it must not contradict”.9 Accordance with the law of contradiction 4 Reinhold, Karl Leonhard: Beyträge zur Berichtigung bisheriger Missverständnisse der Philosophen. 1791, 167. 5 Di Giovanni, George: Between Kant and Hegel. 2000, 138. 6 Schulze, Gottlob: Aenesidemus. 1792, 45–46. 7 Ibid: 60. 8 Henceforth abbreviated as ep. 9 Reinhold, Karl Leonhard: Über das Fundament des Philosophischen Wissens. 1794, 85.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

35

only provides a negative criterion of truth, and does not determine the meaning of the concepts combined in accordance with it. It is the highest principle of what is thinkable, but what is thinkable is only part of what is representable. Reinhold therefore claims the principle of contradiction to have a hidden conditional form of a sort: it only states that insofar as some “predicate and subject are connected, the contradiction cannot be connected with the same”.10 Unless we are dealing with analytic propositions, whether there is such a connection depends on the reality of the object to which these concepts must be applied, which in turn depends on intuition. Reinhold therefore denies that the principle of contradiction is fundamental. As later sections will show, this critical assessment of general logic would prove to be of great importance to Fichte. In preparation for his review of Aenesidemus, Fichte closely studied Reinhold’s writings and recorded his reflections in his private Eigene Meditationen, written from November 1793 until mid-January 1794.11 In the course of writing these notes, Fichte came to believe that he had discovered the required new foundation for philosophy which provides a principle systematically prior to Reinhold’s. The Meditationen show that Fichte attributed great importance to the matter of the status of logic, as he dedicates the first three sections of these notes to what he calls ‘the logic of ElementarPhilosophie’, general logic, and the relation between the two. In February of 1794, Fichte presented private lectures on the critical philosophy in Zürich, for the sake of which he consulted the Meditationen again and left additional marginal notes on its pages. This is particularly significant because it is largely in the marginal notes that Fichte shows doubts about his use of general logic. It is in the Zürich lectures that we first find the name ‘Wissenschaftslehre’12 for the new system. The first published text of the Wissenschaftslehre is the programmatic Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre, published for his students prior to his first lectures in Jena. The first systematic presentation of the system are the texts handed out to his 10 11

12

Ibid. 48. For more general commentary on the Eigne Meditationen, cf. Lauth, Reinhard. “Die Entstehung von Fichtes ‘Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre’ Nach den ‘Eignen Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie’.” Transzendentale Entwicklungslinien Von Descartes Bis Zu Marx Und Dostojewski, Felix Meiner: 1989, pp. 155–179; Moiso, Francesco. Natura e Cultura Nel Primo Fichte. Mursia, 1979; Stolzenberg, Jürgen. Fichtes Begriff Der Intellektuellen Anschauung: Die Entwicklung in den Wissenschaftslehren von 1793/94 Bis 1801/02. Klett-Cotta, 1986. For a discussion of the importance of Fichte’s early practical thought on the Meditationen, cf. Von Manz, Hans Georg, “Die Funktion praktischer Momente für Grundelemente der theoretischen Vernunft in Fichtes Manuskripten Eigne Meditationen über Elementar Philosophie und Practische Philosophie (1793/94).” Fichte-Studien, vol. 9, 1997, pp. 83–99. Henceforth abbreviated as wl.

36

sommer

students for each lecture of the winter term 1794–1795, which would later be published as Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre. In these early texts, four important claims characterizing the relation between general logic and a foundational philosophical system such as the ep or wl are common: 1) The solid assumption claim: The validity of the principles of general logic can be assumed in reflecting on the first principles of the Wissenschaftslehre 2) The abstraction claim: The principles of general logic represent the form of the principles of the Wissenschaftslehre while abstracting from their content 3) The grounding claim: The validity of the principles of general logic depend on those of the Wissenschaftslehre, and not vice versa 4) The circularity claim: The demonstration of the validity of these two sets of principles is circular in a non-vicious and necessary manner Fichte is also committed to two more particular claims about general logic and the subject matter of transcendental philosophy, which are more difficult to capture, as we will see, even for himself. The first of this is the claim that transcendental philosophy must, and can, materially determine the formal principles of general logic. This claim is typically put forward on the basis of some combination of the four claims listed above, and bears resemblance to Kant’s strategy in the metaphysical deduction, although as we will see, it is very different from Kant in its execution. The second is the claim is that there is a fundamental link between the necessity for consciousness to contain distinction as well as relation on the one hand, and the principle of contradiction on the other, as he appears to contribute great significance to Aenesidemus’ assumptions. As we will see, these two claims frequently appear to be guiding Fichte’s arguments even when they are not explicitly stated. General logic is thus persistently on Fichte’s mind in the initial discovery as well as the first presentations of his basic principle, or principles.13 The question of its relationship to the latter is particularly significant given that the Grundlage of 1794 famously arrives at the first principle(s) through consider-

13

For the role of general logic in Fichte’s later thought, cf. Martin, Wayne. “Fichte’s Logical Legacy: Thetic Judgment from the Wissenschaftslehre to Brentano”, in: Fichte and the Phenomenological Tradition, eds. Violetta Waibel, Daniel Breazeale, Tom Rockmore, Berlin, 2010, 379–406, and Nuzzo, Angelica. “Fichte’s 1812 Transcendental Logic”, Fichte-Studien 30 (2006): 163–172. For the possible influence of Maimon’s thought on Fichte’s early treatment of general logic, cf. Marinelli, Maria Caterina. “Maimon’s Implicit Influence in the Eigne Meditationen über Elementar-Philosophie of Fichte.” Salomon Maimon: Alle Origini Dell’Idealismo Tedesco, 2019, pp. 223–230.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

37

ation of the logical principles of identity, contradiction, and sufficient reason. In the Meditationen, Fichte expressed several deep doubts about the validity of this procedure, and his formulation of the four basic claims differ importantly from their appearance in the Grundlage. It is the aim of this paper to suggest that Fichte’s doubts in the Meditationen regarding the kind of procedure carried out in the Grundlage are, contrary to initial appearance, not resolved, but rather temporarily concealed, as they point to a deeper tension in his methodology. This tension concerns two issues. First, the need to account for the necessity of distinction and relation within consciousness, which Fichte, due to his reading of Reinhold after Aenesidemus, links to the principle of contradiction. Second, the need to make explicit the rules of philosophical reflection, which of course govern our investigation into first principles. While Fichte immediately emphasizes the importance of this issue in his private notes, it appears that he abandoned the issue for the time being, moving on instead with the presentation via general logic despite his explicit doubts. I will now turn to the first three sections of the Meditationen, in which these doubts are expressed, and in which we can find several different formulations of the circularity claim.

3

The Eigene Meditationen

In the first section of his notes, Fichte attempts to define the task of an ElementarPhilosophie and runs into an explanatory circle which first leads him to appeal to general logic. In the second section, Fichte first sketches a method akin to that of the Grundlage, in which principles of general logic provide formal rules of thought in accordance with which we produce intuitions and thereby materially determine these principles. In the third, he provides the first formulations of the basic principles, and runs into several problems with applying the proposed method which lead him to abandon the use of general logic in introducing basic principles. 3.1 First Section The first section is titled “The Logic of Elementarphilosophie”. First, Fichte gives an exposition of the concept of such a philosophy: There can be certain basic rules, universal rules, which occur [vorkommen] alongside everything that occurs [vorgeht] within the mind – Because: everything must be apprehended to the subjective unity; it occurs within one mind; everything must therefore be apprehendable to this

38

sommer

subjective unity, and therein at least, and in the conditions of the same (if such should be found), everything must accord with. ga ii/3: 21

The exhibition of such basic rules would constitute a philosophy of elements, which conditions everything else that can occur within our mind, such as the different kinds of representation discussed in Kant’s critiques. Fichte points out that the reflections we carry out in search of these basic rules are a specific kind of representation in need of investigation, and that their exhibition involves us in a circle: The investigations of the ElementarPhilosophie, the reflections it performs, are themselves something that occurs within in our mind […] they are something of a specific kind; a thinking; it therefore stands under the conditions of the genus and the specific kind and cannot be correct, without that which it searches for having already been found beforehand (Hence the necessary circle of our mind. We cannot search for its laws other than through these very laws). ga ii/3: 21

The circle here asserted is difficult to specify. In the final sentence, Fichte appears to suggest an identity between the most basic rules of the ep and the rules of the reflections performed by ep. In order to draw out the different possible interpretations, let us distinguish between: a) The basic, general rules which apply to everything that can occur in the mind b) The rules governing reflection in the investigation of a) If Fichte means to identify a and b, then the circularity claim amounts to the following: 4a) The exhibition of the a) basic rules of the mind and the (correctness of) b) basic rules of ep is circular in a non-vicious and essential manner because a and b are identical. However, as has been already noted, Fichte identifies these reflections with a species of thought, which presumably means that there should be specific rules governing the reflections of ep as opposed to other kinds of thought or mental occurrences in general.14 It is therefore at this point more plausible to inter14

Cf. Schick 2010, 144–145.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

39

pret Fichte’s claim to be that in investigating the rules governing philosophical reflection, we are constrained both by these very rules and the most general rules of the mind under which they fall. We can characterize this reading as follows: 4b) An investigation into a) the basic rules of the mind must take the form of b) reflections that are subject to these very rules, rendering the investigation circular in a necessary and non-vicious manner. So far, the circularity claim in the ep does not appear to involve general logic, although Fichte remarks in a marginal comment to the second subsection that the elucidation of the concept of ep would amount to an elucidation of the concept of logic. The next subsection severely complicates this matter. First, Fichte states that the rules of the ‘logic of ep’ cannot be assumed without elucidation: “This would render rules for this investigation necessary, which are best not to be tacitly assumed, but explicitly developed” [marginal notes: Logic of ep] (ga ii/3: 21). While the first subsections of ‘The logic of ep’ left it open whether this logic refers to the set of basic rules to be exhibited, or the specific set of rules governing our investigations into basic rules, Fichte now identifies this logic with the latter set, that is, as the rules of philosophical reflection addressed in subsection four. We can thus give an alternative formulation of b: b*) The Logic of ElementarPhilosophie In the sentences following this claim, Fichte appears to immediately take it back: These rules can in turn not themselves be proven, instead one must leave them to good luck. Luckily, the logic under which they belong is already a secure science; and an objection could arise at most concerning what is to be particularly considered in the application to ep. In order to avoid this, one must also prove, in reverse, the logic through the elementary doctrine. ga ii/3: 21–22

Fichte states the unprovability of the rules of ep, our reliance on luck in exhibiting them, and introduces what I have called above the ‘solid assumption’ and ‘circularity’ claims. This formulation of the former claim superficially resembles Kant’s clue from general logic insofar as logic is appealed to in virtue

40

sommer

of being established as a secure science. Fichte’s talk of luck in making this assumption, however, strikingly contrasts with Kant’s insistence that an inquiry into the most basic acts of the understanding demands a principle of its activity as such.15 In making this claim, Kant distinguished his proposed principled procedure from an inductive one based on luck, using the same phrase which Fichte appeals to [‘Auf gut Glück’] in characterizing the wrong way to proceed. We can find pure concepts without guidance by a principle, but that will only ever leave us with a non-exhaustive aggregate of such concepts lacking explanatory power. For Kant, the capacity to judge serves as a principle in the deduction of the categories, and general logic allows us to exhaustively exhibit all forms of judgment. Fichte’s appeal to general logic takes a different path. His introduction of the solid assumption claim is initially justified by asserting that the rules of the logic of ep belong under general logic. A lengthy marginal note further addresses this issue. As other marginal notes to this section refer to the Zürich presentations, this indicates that Fichte was still troubled about how to determine the relation a month after writing the Meditationen. Fichte now characterizes general logic as an “applied doctrine of essence” concerned with the form of “the possible object of thought” in abstraction from its content, and asks whether ep requires a specific logic (ga ii/3: 22). Considering the context in which the question is posed, we can assume that a negative answer to it would amount to an identification of general logic and the logic of ep. ep “stands under general logic with respect to its form. As does the latter in turn under the former; there is a circle” (ga ii/3: 22). ep can therefore safely assume the principles of general logic for its reflections, and only needs “certain reminders that follow from its object” (ga ii/3: 22). In a way, the proposed specific logic of ep has therefore already given way to general logic. Rather than having to elucidate special rules for our reflections, we can make do with formal logical rules which only need the above mentioned cryptic “reminders” in order to bring us to the basic rules we’re looking for. Since the principles of general logic represent a formal abstraction from those of ep, the latter presumably involve a content not grasped by the former. General Logic therefore gives us a partial consideration of the basic rules of ep. Consequently, Fichte introduces another formulation of the circularity claim, concerning general logic and ep. 4c) The exhibition of the a) basic rules of the mind and the (correctness of) c) the principles of general logic is circular in a non-vicious, necessary manner. 15

KrV: B92|A67.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

41

3.2 Second Section The abstraction claim has suggested that general logic can offer a clue in the investigation of the ep, in a manner that Fichte elaborates on in the second main section of the Meditationen, titled “Logical Rules”. This section contains the first depiction of the method of construction in intuition. Fichte begins by proceeding similarly to the previous section, stating that as “general logic is itself something in the human mind”, “an ElementarPhilosophie must ground it as well” (ga ii/3: 22). Having thereby asserted what I have above called the grounding claim, Fichte asks himself how this is to be carried out. His answer is a sketch of the systematic connection of propositions as conditioning one another formally and materially whilst being ultimately grounded in a first principle. Of course, this is how Fichte would soon characterize the nature of the systematic form of the wl as such, but here he takes it initially to imply the circularity of wl and general logic: if we can develop a system of propositions conditioning one another in this manner, then they “would provide an unbreakable chain – but then a formal logic would not be possible prior to ElementarPhilosophie; but merely aphoristic observations on its manner of proceeding” (ga ii/3: 22). Fichte further elucidates this cryptic remark as follows, but in doing so he states two different circularity claims: If we assume that every sentence expresses a thought, then we can consider the sentences of our system to be thoughts that are linked as formal condition to conditioned. The ‘matter’ of these thoughts are “certain [rule-governed] occurrences in our mind” which are brought under concepts and expressed in sentences in accordance with the following “prescribed method” (ga ii/3: 22): Sentences expressing thoughts provide the formal criteria for the experiments with intuitions. A thought serves as a rule to which we must appeal in spontaneously producing the corresponding intuition, and which allows us to think this intuition under a concept. Fichte claims that ‘correct observation’ of this (intellectual) intuition both proves its prior formal expression, as well as allowing us to develop the formal rule required for producing the systematically subsequent intuition. We have therefore arrived at a first programmatic expression of the method which Fichte will employ in the Grundlage, and about which he now states the solid assumption as well as the circularity claim: “This method is not only presupposed to be given, but is also already presupposed as grasped – for the sake of a reflection on one’s own path, and for the judgment by others. Now, the grasping of [this method] is itself a part of ElementarPhilosophie, and one of its last parts” (ga ii/3: 23). As the method does not only concern formal logical principles, but also a content supplied by experiments in intuition, this is no longer the circularity claim concerning general logic, but that concern-

42

sommer

ing the logic of ep stated earlier as 4b. Fichte has thereby for now justified not explicitly dealing with the rules of the logic of ep, but to delegate its treatment to one of the last parts of constructing an ep. His vision of the new method appears to have led him to believe that the abstraction and solid assumption claims regarding general logic allow him to also assume the logic of ep as given. 3.3 Third Section The third main section is titled “On Elementarphilosophie itself” and contains early formulations of the first two principles as concerning the positing of I and not-I. It also contains Fichte’s expressions of doubt about how general logic relates to this method and its principles. The first principle is given three different formulations: 1) “The I is intuitable”, 2) “Intuit your I”, 3) “You are conscious of your I” (ga ii/3: 26). Fichte expresses uncertainty about how to pick his primitives, as he wonders whether the term ‘intuition’ or ‘consciousness’ is more likely to be granted by his audience as immediately intelligible. In a remark to this initial exposition, Fichte appears to settle for a kind of hybrid between these formulations by stating that the first principle is a ‘Heischesatz’ or a postulate which has an imperatival status to the philosopher. One can become conscious of the I by intuiting it, and those who do not know how to become conscious of their I in this manner are to be excluded from philosophical discourse. Notably, none of these formulations appeal to logical principles or relate the intuition to be performed to a formal rule. The imperative to intuit one’s I, as well as the claim that this act requires a reflective capacity restricted to philosophical minds, reappear in the opening paragraphs of the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo which similarly lack any reference to general logic. The second principle is introduced by Fichte in two different ways. On the one hand, Fichte tries to base it on the fact that the human mind can make distinctions and is thus subject to the law of noncontradiction. Most likely, this path is motivated by the significance Fichte attributes to the two claims which Aenesidemus laid down as common presuppositions. On the other hand, he wishes to ground it immanently in the investigation and posit it as an inference from the first principle. This inference must be shown as necessary by appeal to a condition, which serves as Fichte’s initial formulation of the second principle: “in order to become conscious of one’s I, one must be able to distinguish it from something, that is not-I. It must therefore be possible, to also become conscious of a not-I” (ga ii/3: 28). The distinction between the two must be carried out in intuition, which reveals to us immediately that “I cannot simultaneously be not-I” (ga ii/3: 28), and therefore we have arrived at the synthetic

general logic and the foundational demonstration

43

task of creating a system, by deriving and overcoming further contradictions. In doing so, we would develop all the conditions by which consciousness of I and not-I are unified. As we will see in the next main section, this is again highly similar to the procedure in the Grundlage. However, here Fichte only appeals to the principle of identity after formulating the initial contradiction that leads to the task of a system: insofar as one is conscious of an I and a not-I, the principle of identity demands that they are to be shown as non-contradictory. Although the first two principles have provided Fichte with a conception of act-types prior to any synthesis, his system depends on the necessity of unifying these two acts.16 Fichte now realizes that this presupposes not only the possibility of becoming conscious of an I and a not-I, but that one must be conscious of them simultaneously, in some as of now unspecified sense: “If you already represent a not-A, then of course it cannot be A: but you claim, that to the mere representation A, there necessarily belongs a not-A – namely for the possibility of thinking the representation A – how do you want to prove this?” (ga ii/3: 28). As Fichte had previously claimed, only the I can be immediately intuited. For there to be a contradiction to be resolved by a chain of synthetic propositions, something else must be intuited, and it must be intuited alongside the I. The mere possibility of becoming conscious of either of these things requires a further premise by which they are necessarily thought at once. Otherwise, Fichte has not achieved more than the interpretation of the principle of contradiction which Reinhold attributes to the position of the dogmatic skeptic: “Insofar as two impressions are connected in my consciousness, they are not separated within the same”.17 The main systematic thrust behind these doubts is summed up at the end of the passage by Fichte, through reference to the two different ways in which I have characterized his strategy above: “The human mind can distinguish, [this] is a factum, and hence the principle of contradiction. – But prove that it must distinguish” (ga ii/3: 29). First, he imagines a more general syllogistic argument linking any act of intuition with the intuition of its opposite: “The minor premise is this: Nothing can come to consciousness (be intuited), unless something else is intuited simultaneously” (ga ii/3: 29). However, he admits that he is unable to think of any way of proving this premise

16

17

On a detailed discussion of this problem, see Schwab, Philipp. “‚Gehe der Unbedingtheit des Ich nach …‘ Fichtes erste Auseinandersetzung mit Reinhold und die Entwicklung des Grundsatz-Gefüges in den Eignen Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie.” Reinhold and Fichte in Confrontation – A Tale of Mutual Appreciation and Criticism, edited by Martin Bondeli and Silvan Imhof, De Gruyter, 2020, pp. 49–92. Reinhold, Fundament, 49.

44

sommer

except by appeal to the principle of the necessity of the manifold, which would be illegitimate as the validity of this principle is systematically downstream from his foundational concerns. For now, it is only an “inner feeling” (ga ii/3: 29) which suggests to Fichte, that the premise is true. Fichte adds a further worry noting that the principle of contradiction is analytic, while his procedure is synthetic. In attempting another proof, he appears to rid himself of the worry regarding analytic propositions, and for the first time cautiously associates the first principle with that of identity: “This would have to be done through a mediating logical principle – should I perhaps develop the principle of identity immediately from the intuition of the I – but even there it would not lead me any further?” (ga ii/3: 29). If we consider the logical principle as given, as “the only possible formal” fact, we are still left with two questions: “1) why am I unable to absolutely represent an I without a not I” and “2) should these two propositions constitute two, or one [proposition]” (ga ii/3: 29). Hence, Fichte for now considers an appeal to the principle of identity alongside the principle of the I to be insufficient to introduce the necessity of an original distinction. He ultimately settles on abandoning the attempt to infer the second principle and instead claims that both I and not-I are immediately given in intuition as a single first principle. This intuition also immediately gives us the mediating principle of the necessity of oppositing [entgegensetzen] the latter to the former, as well the characterization of I as activity and not-I as passivity.18 From all this, Fichte now claims, we get the principle of identity, which “translates” the intuitions of positing and oppositing of I and not I. His revised second principle states that they are to be united in something third, which is partly I and partly not-I. This principle, he states, “must be proven from the principle of contradiction” (ga ii/3: 30). A curious reversal has taken place. From associating the principle of identity with the task of uniting opposites and the necessity of opposition (or distinction) with the principle of contradiction, the former is now given through the oppositing of I and not-I, and the need to unite them depends on the principle of contradiction. It appears that, despite his worries a paragraph earlier, Fichte is now certain that logical principles must play a role, but is not yet sure which role to allocate to which principle. Nevertheless, he concludes that “identity and opposition [Gegensaz] are now sufficiently explained” (ga ii/3: 30). Despite not having settled the problems with the procedure involving general logic, and ostensibly rejecting it, Fichte goes on to employ a method broadly based on the four claims in the

18

(ga ii/3: 29–30).

general logic and the foundational demonstration

45

Grundlage. Before turning to the Grundlage, I will briefly note some important remarks from two earlier texts.

4

Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre /Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre 1794

4.1 The Zürich Lectures and the Begriffsschrift The Zürich lectures, partly based on the Meditationen, and Über den Begriff, which in turn is based in part on the Zürich lectures, both contain sections dedicated to the relation between logic and the wl. Each of these contain the abstraction and grounding claim, but differ significantly with respect to the solid assumption claim. The Zürich lecture on logic characterizes its deficiencies akin to Reinhold. Logic is said to not provide a doctrine of reason, but only of equations (Gleichung), proof of which requires existential claims supplying their content, which he addresses with respect to the form of A=A: “the existence of A cannot be proven through form, even though there is nothing to object against the form. How do I get to say then, that A is. Is A? This question concerns the content of the proposition […] In philosophy, the correctness of form immediately entails the reality of the inner content” (ga iv/2: 26). The ‘inference from being posited to being’, as it will be called in the Grundlage, is claimed to be the rightful task of philosophy, and Fichte asserts that it thereby shows the validity of the equations posited by logic in giving reality to them. In Über den Begriff, however, Fichte takes the grounding and abstraction claim to preclude the solid assumption claim, and states that “not a single logical principle, not even that of contradiction” can be assumed as valid prior to establishing a wl (bwl ga i/2, 138). He elaborates on this by addressing the relation between wl and logic in terms of dependence and determining: the application of “logic is conditioned and determined through the Wissenschaftslehre” (bwl ga i/2, 138), since the latter “does not receive its form through logic, but contains it in itself and posits it for a possible abstraction through freedom in the first place” (bwl ga i/2, 138). Further, Fichte depicts certainty as an “insight into the inseparability of a certain content from a certain form” (bwl ga i/2, 123), and claims that this certainty must attach to our knowledge of the first principle, which consequently must be posited before we can derive logic as a special, subordinate science by abstracting from the content of the first principle.

46

sommer

4.2 The Opening of the Grundlage The Grundlage sets out to find the indemonstrable first principle expressing the ‘Tathandlung’ grounding everything in empirical consciousness. Notably, Fichte does not refer to intellectual intuition throughout the Grundlage but prefers the term ‘Tathandlung’. The role of general logic in this task is addressed as follows: The laws according to which one must think this Tathandlung as the absolute ground of human knowledge, or – what amounts to the same – the rules, according to which all reflection is performed, are not yet demonstrated to be valid, but must be tacitly assumed as known and agreed upon [ausgemacht]. It is only later that they are derived from the principle whose establishment is only correct under the condition of their correctness. This is a circle, but an unavoidable one. Since it is unavoidable, and freely admitted to, one is permitted to appeal to all laws of general logic in establishing the highest principle. gwl ga i/2, 255

While the first sentence speaks of rules of all reflection, they are not explicitly identified with those of general logic until the second sentence, where it is claimed that the solid assumption claim is entailed by the circularity claim. The second edition of the Grundlage adds this explicit identification of general logic and the rules of all reflection also to the first sentence. Given this identification, one may expect that Fichte would proceed by an immediate appeal to the principles of general logic. Instead, he appeals to these principles via a reflective procedure which he claims to be capable of beginning from non-logical propositions as well. In listing these steps, I do not follow Fichte’s ordering. The first three steps of this procedure can be stated in a generalized way: First, we identify some proposition as a ‘fact of empirical consciousness’. Such facts express something that is universally accepted as certain, for which Fichte’s criteria is the impossibility of asserting or demanding any further proof of a proposition. Although the term ‘fact of consciousness’ refers in Reinhold to our consciousness of the structure of representation, and in Kant to our awareness of the moral law, for Fichte it refers to every proposition which is universally accepted in a non-inferential manner. In light of his characterization of such a fact as belonging to ‘empirical’ consciousness, the status of such a fact is more akin to the criteria for the universality and necessity of certain propositions as depicted in the Introduction to Kant’s cpr. For example, we realise that the principle of causality cannot be warranted by any appeal to experi-

general logic and the foundational demonstration

47

ence, and thereby detect its a priori character. Fichte claims that there can be many such facts of consciousness, and that our reflection is free in choosing one of them. The one he chooses in the Grundlage is the principle of identity A=A. He justifies this by claiming it to allow us the shortest route from a fact of empirical consciousness to the basic principle (gwl ga i/2, 255). The second step appears to be contingent on the choice of fact. In this step, we abstract all empirical determinations from this proposition, leaving only it’s a priori form. Here, the procedure closely recalls Kant’s depiction of the criteria for the universality and necessity of concepts. Since Fichte’s reflection set out from a logical principle, there are no empirical determinations to abstract from. While it sounds fairly odd to characterize a logical principle as a fact of empirical consciousness, Fichte can dispense with the second step and move on to the third, in which we ascribe to ourselves a capacity for absolute positing in virtue of being able to posit an absolutely unconditioned proposition. Fichte also characterizes the act of self-ascribing this capacity as saying that the relevant proposition is posited ‘through’ the I, as I can simply appeal to it without empirical warrant. Whatever is generalizable from Fichte’s procedure from this point onwards cannot be discerned, or at least not here, as Fichte introduces some rather novel premises. The next steps I enumerate will therefore depict these premises, rather than any general foundational program as it could apply to other initially chosen facts. In the fourth step, Fichte appeals to the distinction between form and matter, claiming that what is absolutely posited by A=A is our way of knowing A, but not the A that is thereby known. The positing of the content of A is depicted by Fichte as an existential claim. In light of this distinction, Fichte interprets the principle of identity as actually being a peculiar kind of conditional (gwl ga i/2, 257). I say ‘peculiar’ because the terms of this conditional are evidently not propositions in the sense of Kantian judgments. The antecedent is a problematically posited existential claim about A, while the consequent predicates self-identity of this A. On another point, Fichte speaks of the two terms of an (conditional) identity claim as relating to each other as subject and predicate concept, insofar as the existential antecedent is affirmed of the concept A. In positing the principle of identity, Fichte therefore claims that we posit a conditional, and he provisionally calls the connection it asserts to hold between its terms as ‘X’. In the sixth step, Fichte argues that A must be actual in the I. The argument runs as follows. First, he claims that X being absolutely posited entails that it is ‘actual’ in the I. Second, he claims that “X is only possible in relation to an A” (gwl ga i/2, 257). He infers that, since X is actual in the I, so must be A.

48

sommer

Finally, it is claimed that A is actual in the I through the I, by the mediation of X. As before, I interpret claims of the form ‘x is through he I’ as stating that X can be posited without any further warrant than its de facto acceptance by the judging I. In this case, the warrant for the positing of A is immediately entailed by the positing of X through the I, since the prior step established that the positing of X somehow depends on that of A. Fichte now claims that, since the I can posit the terms on either side of the identity sign as equivalent simply through itself, the ground for this rule of self-identity must be within the I. “This means: it is posited, that within the I […] there is something, which is always self-identical, is always one and the same; and the absolutely posited X can also be expressed this way: I = I; I am I” (gwl ga i/2, 257). Thereby Fichte has arrived at a logical formulation of the first principle, and can now go on to reveal the peculiar nature of the principle of self-identity when applied to the I. Contrary to any other identity statement, it is not to be read as a conditional depending on an independent existential claim, as “it is valid not only according to form, but also according to content” (gwl, ga i/2, 258). Identity with itself expresses what the I is, and thereby also that it is – the principle has unconditional existential import. The second principle is found along the same initial steps of the first, that is, by first characterizing a logical principle as a ‘fact of empirical consciousness’. In this case, it is the principle of contradiction, initially expressed as “-A is not A”, which is accepted by anyone without doubt, and Fichte claims that the validity of this proposition can, if at all, only be derived from the first principle. With respect to its form, this principle is again absolutely unconditioned, but with respect to its matter, it must be conditioned by the first principle. Unless we relate the form of negation to the A already posited, we are not positing a different form of action, as we can only understand the nature of an opposite by reference to that of which it is the opposite. This way of finding the second principle differs importantly from the programmatic claims in the Meditationen. The principle is not immediately postulated due to the nature of intuition, but by means of prior consideration of a logical principle: “As certainly as the unconditional admission of the absolute certainty of the proposition: –A is not = A amongst the facts of empirical consciousness occurs: as certainly the I is absolutely opposited by a Not-I” (gwl ga i/2, 266). As the identity of the I with itself is the condition of this (and any other principle), Fichte thinks he has now established the task of uniting I and Not-I. Before Fichte moves on to the third principle, which will show how this is possible, he gives a summary of his procedure so far, which depicts his method as abstracting formal logic propositions by a process of abstraction from material ones, and then abstracting from the form of judgment an act-type as such, arriving at the categories. In this way, “the

general logic and the foundational demonstration

49

form of the inference from being posited to being” (gwl ga i, 261) corresponds to an act-type of the human mind that constitutes the category of reality, and the “form of the inference from being opposited to Not-Being” similarly corresponds to the “category of negation” (gwl ga i, 267). 4.3 Critical Comments In laying out the steps of this procedure I have already drawn some parallels to Kant’s criteria of universality and necessity. One can also interpret Fichte’s appeal to general logic by reference to the assumption and abstraction claims along Kantian lines as a form of metaphysical deduction. The clue from general logic provides pure concepts by supplying a logical form with a transcendental content. Whereas Kant had considered primitive logical forms of propositions in relation to a generic object of intuition, Fichte applies logical laws to the pure I. Kant thereby shows how the forms of thought can supply a priori conditions to a given matter, whilst Fichte wants to show how the formal laws of thought abstractly exhibit the fundamental unity of form and matter in the I as well as the original limitations through which they come apart.19 As we have seen, the Zürich lectures ascribed to philosophy the permission and task to posit the content of any correct formal logical proposition. Presumably, the “inference from being posited to being” which Fichte employs in the Grundlage is a way of realising this task. In this way Fichte sets up the pure I as something akin to the ens realissimum, the matter of all possibility, which is limited by forms which express its specific representational manifestations. However, the particular steps of the Grundlage through which this inference is made appeal to premises that are beset by various problems. I will discuss the two most important of these problems and highlight their correspondences to those Fichte discussed in his Meditationen. The first problem concerns the sixth step of the procedure, in which it is claimed that the absolute positing of X entails that A is actual in the I. This inference can be made because Fichte claims that the previous step has shown that “X is only possible in relation to an A” (9). If the positing of A is to be identified with the existential claim that A exists, then the suggestion that X is only possible in relation to A appears to pose problems, given that Fichte claims three times on the same page that X is posited as absolutely unconditioned.20 This step is necessary for the inference from being posited to Being, and thus 19 20

Cf. Paimann 2006, 33–36, 43, for more on the Kantian heritage of the relation of Fichte’s I to logic. 1: X is “the necessary connection between the two, which is posited absolutely and without any condition”.

50

sommer

for establishing the category of reality. Fichte’s contradictory depictions of X as both conditional as well as absolutely unconditioned point at a deeper issue concerning the appeal to a fact of consciousness in the first step. A fact of consciousness is any proposition which is “known as completely certain” (gwl, 8) in a non-inferential manner. In Über den Begriff, however, complete certainty is ascribed solely to the first principle, and the criterion for such an eminent status is named as insight into the inseparability of form and content. According to the abstraction claim, which is found in all of these early texts, principles of general logic by definition abstract from the content of the principles of the wl. In the Grundlage, he is therefore implicitly operating with two kinds of ‘certainty’, one attaching to formal propositions expressing facts of consciousness, and one attaching to propositions expressing the Tathandlung conditioning these acts materially. Unless we grant ‘facts of consciousness’ some kind of ‘lower’ certainty, the inference from being posited to Being fails, as no systematic warrant has been established for reading the principle of identity as a conditional despite its apparent unconditional status. While the distinction between Tathandlung and Tatsache might serve to ground such a distinction in epistemic status,21 Fichte unfortunately does not sufficiently set up this former distinction in his foundational exposition. The second problem concerns the inference from being opposited to NotBeing. For the sake of demonstrating it, I will assume that the first principle has been successfully found. Once the principle of contradiction, and thus the Not-I, is posited, the depiction of the second principle as formally unconditioned but materially conditioned by the first principle is an ingenious way of reconciling its status as a postulate with the requirements of systematic form. Nevertheless, the manner in which the principle of contradiction is introduced falls victim to another of the problems encountered in the Meditationen: there, Fichte wished to posit the Not-I and the principle of contradiction by reference to the fact of distinction in consciousness. However, as he could not find an argument for the necessity of distinction in consciousness, he instead postulated the Not-I and the need for opposition alongside the intuition of the I as immediate. A clue from general logic was rejected as Fichte could also not infer the principle of introduction from an immediate positing of the principle of identity alongside intuition of the I. In the Grundlage, the formal and material connection between the first principle and the second can only be appealed

21

2: X is “given to the I, and as it is posited absolutely and without any condition, it must be given to the I through the I itself”. 3: “X is posited absolutely; X is a fact of empirical consciousness.” Cf. Paimann 2006, 33.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

51

to after a second clue from general logic. The warrant for employing the principle of contradiction as a clue for the inference to the Not-I is here based on its status as a fact of empirical consciousness. In principle, we should therefore be able to start from any other proposition recognized as such a fact, and Fichte has stated no systematic reason for choosing this rather than any other. Were Fichte to posit the second principle through a postulate that is immanent to his system (as outlined in the Meditationen), one would expect him to first introduce the necessity of opposition in any intuition, and thereby arrive at the principle of contradiction. In the Grundlage, however, the procedure is not depicted in terms of intuition, and the problem of uniting opposites in one consciousness is now instead introduced by means of this apparently contingent and ad hoc consideration of the principle of contradiction. Even if we grant Fichte both the first principle and the appeal to the principle of non-contradiction, the inference from being opposited to Not-Being necessary for establishing the category of negation is highly dubious. The principle of contradiction states the impossibility of positing the I and Not-I simultaneously, so why does Fichte believe that acceptance of this principle entails positing of the Not-I? Again, the problem has already been addressed in his private notes: “If you already represent a not-A, then of course it cannot be A: but you claim, that to the mere representation A, there necessarily belongs a not-A – namely for the possibility of thinking the representation A – how do you want to prove this?” A way of reconstructing Fichte’s attempt to solve the matter in the Grundlage might be to claim that positing of –(–A and A) entails the positing of any of its subsentential elements, and hence of –A. Although this may accord with the Zürich lecture claim that the Wisssenschaftslehre can posit the content of any correct logical principle, this reading would defeat the purpose of the law of contradiction. Another possible reconstruction might be that correctness of the principle of contradiction entails the possibility of positing –A. Again, this would simply bring us back to the above stated problem as it is the necessity of opposition that is at stake. Scholars such as Kroner, Schäfer, and Hammacher deem the logical principles to possess a merely heuristic function that is external to the system and somewhat arbitrary.22 Others, such as Stefan Schick, Ulrich Claesges, and Rebecca Paimann have defended Fichte’s procedure against the accusation of arbitrariness. According to both Schick and Paimann, we must speak of a reciprocal dependency between logic and wl (exhibited by concerns corresponding broadly to the abstraction and grounding claims) and ascribe a constitutive role

22

Kroner 1961: 416fn; Schäfer 2006, 23; Hammacher 1997, 123.

52

sommer

to the former in the systematic presentation of the latter (by which the nonviciousness asserted in the circularity claim is supported).23 A path of argument that we find both in Schick and Paimann sets out from the identity of the rules of all reflection and the principles of general logic (as stated in the opening of the Grundlage), in order to show that the assumption of the latter is an indispensable part of Fichte’s procedure. As we have seen, Fichte himself does not justify his logical starting point in this manner, but rather by reference to its status as a fact of consciousness. While this may seem odd given that it follows the assertion of the identity of the rules of reflection and logic, we have also seen that the relationship between the two had troubled Fichte in the Meditationen during his attempt to sketch a method resembling that of the Grundlage. I will briefly examine Schick’s account and suggest that it is vulnerable to problems similar to those in the Meditationen. Claesges offers the quickest path to the necessity of a logical starting point. He points out that while Fichte may present the principle of identity as only one of many propositions which express a fact of consciousness, any such proposition must presuppose the principle of identity. Claesges claims that “the departure from this proposition is therefore not arbitrary, but necessary”.24 Schick elaborates on this point while situating it in a more general analysis of reflection and its conditions. In looking for basic principles, Fichte must perform an “abstracting reflection” in what I have above portrayed as the second main step of his procedure in the Grundlage. Abstraction and reflection are both acts of thought, and are as such governed by general logic.25 Like Claesges, Schick claims that the multiplicity of possible starting points which Fichte asserts in the first step must be considered merely apparent.26 Eventually, the process of abstraction will isolate the principle of identity as the necessary aspect of any necessary proposition from which we set out. The principle of identity therefore does not constitute the ‘shortest route’ for abstraction because of its lack of empirical determinations, but because it constitutes, as such, the end point of any such route. This renders the assumption of logical principles not just ‘solid’ but necessary, and entails the circularity claim: “as a science, the wl is always already formally determined through logic”27 because our reflection is necessarily governed by logical principles.28 Schick therefore

23 24 25 26 27 28

Schick 2010, 169–170; Paimann 2006, 21, 38. Claesges 1974, 49. Schick 2010, 188. Ibid. 189–190. Ibid. 169. It must be noted that Schick makes heavy use of material from the Begriffschrift and the

general logic and the foundational demonstration

53

also denies that Fichte simply assumes these logical rules for reflection without explicit investigation, but rather performs such an investigation by exhibiting the ground of their validity in the basic principle of the wl. In supplying these merely formal principles with a content, the wl does not only ground general logic as a science, but also ‘sublates’ (aufheben) it, according to Schick: logical rules, which appear to govern all reflection and thus determine all sciences, are “exposed as the merely formal side of the wl and its principles, and therefore as superfluous”.29 Of course, they are not entirely superfluous, but rather with respect to the kind of necessity and certainty Fichte is after. The circularity claim concerning general logic and wl is also sublated, as the abstraction and grounding claims reveal to us the primacy of the principles of wl. The circularity claim can now be seen to merely concern the presentation [Darstellung] of the system of the mind, which for the sake of intelligibility must presuppose “the logical rules and concepts” without drawing systematic inferences from them.30 However, once this circle is overcome, we thereby enter a new circle which concerns the reciprocal dependence of the formal and material aspects of reflection.31 In light of these sublations, it does not appear that Schick rejects the heuristic nature of logical principles as such, but merely the contingency ascribed to their heuristic employment. If we are to engage in abstraction in order to isolate the necessity in a fact of consciousness, then logical principles (in particular that of identity) will initially turn out to be essential presuppositions of carrying out such reflections. If we further seek to ground the validity of the principle of identity and the necessity attaching to it, we find it to be a one-sided consideration of the more basic principle of the I. Equipped with this formally and materially determined principle, we can throw away general logic and the circle we entered through it like a ladder that we have climbed, and move on to Fichte’s true concern, which relates to a circular dependence of form and mat-

29 30 31

Zürich lectures in order to reconstruct a manner in which the acts of abstraction and reflection intimately relate logic and the wl through considerations of what I call the abstraction and grounding claims, as well as the inference from being posited to being (through which a form acquires a material correlate). A closer examination of abstraction and reflection in the Begriffschrift is unfortunately beyond the scope of this essay, as are Schick’s sophisticated and subtle investigations into this text. In any case, I have briefly highlighted above how Fichte’s depiction of abstraction in the Begriffschrift can be instead seen as rejecting the assumption of general logic prior to establishing the principles of the wl. Ibid. 170. Ibid. 178. Ibid. 178.

54

sommer

ter. Since Schick accepts the Grundlage’s identification of the rules of all reflection with the rules of general logic, his initial characterization of reflection (which includes acts of abstraction) is that of a formally constrained species of thought. He further rejects the multiplicity of facts of consciousness posited by Fichte as starting points for the process of abstraction. These moves allow him to depict the principle of identity as a necessary rather than somewhat arbitrary starting point. However, this characterization of reflection is revised once we arrive at the first principle and ‘sublate’ the principles of general logic. Reflection is now said be both formally and materially determined,32 and the circularity pertaining to its elements is immanent to the system, whereas the merely formal depiction of reflection and the circle between logic and the wl is retrospectively revealed to have served a heuristic (but necessary) role pertaining to the presentation of the system. Schick’s depiction of an investigation into the merely formal conditions of reflection as insufficient, and hence in need of ‘sublation’, raises doubts about the necessity of such a procedure. If reflection has, as such, material conditions, then it is not exclusively determined by logical principles. This, however, means that our investigation into its necessary aspects must not necessarily begin from the principle of identity, or any other logical principle. If one is to formally constrain reflection, then one must begin from principles of general logic, but there is no systematic reason to posit this formal constraint in the first place. Furthermore, the notion of sublation raises another concern relating to the above depicted two types of certainty involved in Fichte’s procedure. In reflecting on any proposition, we must presuppose the validity of logical principles as certain. These principles, in turn, depend for their validity on those of the wl, the validity of which is certain due to the unconditional identity of form and matter. It is because of this difference that the heuristic procedure by means of logical principles must be ‘sublated’. According to Schick, we discover that A = A had not been certain after all, but only attains certainty once its abstraction from, and grounding in, I=I has been exhibited.33 The validity of logical propositions has thus been assumed before it has been derived.34 Hence, the method Schick attributes to Fichte’s procedure in the Grundlage relies on two types of certainty in a manner highly similar to my depiction above. An appeal to such different types of certainty (and a kind of sublation) can also be found in Paimann’s depiction of the circularity35 between general logic and the wl as 32 33 34 35

Ibid. 181. Ibid. 176. Ibid. 176. Rebecca Paimann similarly takes the circularity claim to reveal the necessary role of gen-

general logic and the foundational demonstration

55

a “reciprocal relation (dominated by the latter)”.36 Although logic is intimately related to the wl (via the abstraction claim), it proves insufficient for the proper path of the wl once we consider the grounding claim. Paimann claims that, as a consequence, the “level of formal logic is transcended in favour of the level of transcendental grounding”.37 Even if an account of these different levels can be given which renders the different species of certainty attaching to their respective principles intelligible, it appears that Paimann and Schick must eventually deny the identity of logical rules and the rules of all reflection. This may not affect that (some species of) certainty attaches to the former, but nevertheless strongly suggests that the logical starting point lacks necessity with respect to Fichte’s systematic concerns.

5

Concluding Remarks

As Reinhard Lauth points out, “in the Eigene Meditationen, we are suddenly confronted with a new method, without being able to tell somehow, how Fichte discovered it”.38 Despite, or perhaps because of the variety of insights regarding a foundational transcendental system recorded in these private notes, Fichte remains unsure on how to ground some of the most important of these insights. His first formulation of the basic principles in terms of consciousness and intuition strongly suggests that he has in mind a method of construction in intuition. However, two troublesome issues and another as of yet obscure insight lead him to attempt to relate this method to general logic. First, while Fichte may have discovered that the I can be intuited a priori, he is unsure on how to advance to an intuition of the Not-I, and eventually to a system. This worry is connected to general logic for Fichte due to his belief that the need for distinction in consciousness is related to the validity of the principle of contradiction. If further sentences are to be derived from the first principle, it is as further conditions by which an initial contradiction is resolved, and

36 37 38

eral logic for the wl, claiming that it provides the means by which we are able to arrive at the system as well as the criterion of the system’s completion (Paimann 2006: 22). When addressing the former of these tasks, Paimann however appears less committal, claiming that although “some contingency as well as lack of proof and systematicity” (Paimann 2006: 38) attaches to the logical starting point, it proves to be a highly useful and persuasive means to arrive at the first principle of the wl. Paimann 2006, 38. Ibid. 44. Lauth, 175.

56

sommer

hence the system requires a Not-I as much as an I. The second issue concerns how and whether to explicitly account for the rules of the reflective method by which we find the basic principles. The necessity of such an account had been proclaimed in the first section of the Meditationen, but was swiftly replaced by an appeal to general logic. The four claims allowed Fichte to give logical principles the role of formal rules for the construction of a content in intuition. This method too must be assumed as given and grasped. Arguably, it is this version of the assumption claim, in tandem with the first issue discovered above, which leads Fichte to eventually abandon this method in favour of simply postulating I, Not-I, and the necessity of opposition immediately in intuition. In dealing with these issues Fichte thus proposes two different methods. First, one resembling that of the Grundlage, in which logical principles serve as rules for experiments in intuition supplying their content and the form of the next rule. Second, one resembling the later wl nova methodo, in which an immediate appeal to intellectual intuition and a reflective law of opposition provides the first principles of the Wissenschaftslehre as well as of general logic. Even though the four claims represent an attempt to give systematic justification to the appeal to general logic, Fichte’s use of logical principles in the Grundlage appears to have a heuristic function that does not truly rely on systematic considerations (as I have attempted to highlight in the critical comments). Fichte’s own dissatisfaction with this method can be seen in the radically different procedure of his second foundational exposition of the wl. In the wl nova methodo, Fichte has entirely abandoned reference to logical principles, and begins with the immediate consciousness of a “subject-object” which is called intellectual intuition. The necessity of opposition is now explained by reference to what Daniel Breazeale calls ‘the principle of determinability’,39 and which marks Fichte’s attempt to account for the laws of all reflection that he admits having neglected in the Grundlage.40 As in the alternative method considered in the Meditationen, the first principle constitutes a postulate,41 and can only be properly grasped by those possessing “philosophical genius”.42 This reveals yet another important difference between the two manners of introducing first principles. While the appeal to general logic in the Grundlage is an attempt to arrive at the first principle through a fact that is accessible to and granted by everyone, the immediate appeal to intellectual intuition is explic39 40 41 42

Breazeale, Daniel: Thinking through the Wissenschaftslehre. 2013, 42. (ga iv/2: 17–18). Ibid. 28–29. Ibid. 31–33.

general logic and the foundational demonstration

57

itly presented as separating the philosopher from those deemed incapable of philosophical thought and discourse.

Bibliography Beiser, Frederick C. German Idealism: the Struggle against Subjectivism, 1781–1801. Harvard Univ. Press, 2008. Claesges, Ulrich. Geschichte des Selbstbewusstseins: Der Ursprung des Spekulativen Problems in Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre von 1794–95. Nijhoff, 1974. Breazeale, Daniel. Thinking through the Wissenschaftslehre. Themes from Fichte’s Early Philosophy. Oxford University Press, 2013. Di Giovanni, George, and H.S. Harris. Between Kant and Hegel: Texts in the Development of Post-Kantian Idealism. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2000. Hammacher, Klaus. “Fichte Und Das Problem Der Dialektik.” Sein, Reflexion, Freiheit: Aspekte der Philosophie Johann Gottlieb Fichtes, by Christoph Asmuth, B.R. Grüner, 1997, pp. 115–141. Kroner, Richard. Von Kant Bis Hegel. J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1961. Lauth, Reinhard. Transzendentale Entwicklungslinien von Descartes bis Zu Marx und Dostojewski. Felix Meiner Verlag, 2015. Manz, Hans Georg Von, and Wolfgang H. Schrader. “Die Funktion praktischer Momente für Grundelemente der Theoretischen Vernunft in Fichtes Manuskripten Eigne Meditationen über Elementar Philosophie und Practische Philosophie (1793/94).” FichteStudien, vol. 9, 1997, pp. 83–99. Marinelli, Maria Caterina. “Maimon’s Implicit Influence in the Eigne Meditationen über Elementar-Philosophie of Fichte.” Salomon Maimon: Alle Origini Dell’Idealismo Tedesco, 2019, pp. 223–230. Martin, Wayne. “Fichte’s Logical Legacy: Thetic Judgment from the Wissenschaftslehre to Brentano”, in: Fichte and the Phenomenological Tradition, eds. Violetta Waibel, Daniel Breazeale, Tom Rockmore, Berlin, 2010, 379–406. Moiso, Francesco. Natura e Cultura Nel Primo Fichte. Mursia, 1979. Nuzzo, Angelica. “Fichte’s 1812 Transcendental Logic”, Fichte-Studien 30 (2006): 163–172. Paimann, Rebecca. Die Logik und das Absolute: Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre zwischen Wort, Begriff und Unbegreiflichkeit. Königshausen & Neumann, 2006. Reinhold, Karl Leonhard. Beyträge zur Berichtigung bisheriger Missverständnisse der Philosophen. Mauke, 1794. Schäfer Rainer. Johann Gottlieb Fichtes “Grundlage Der Gesamten Wissenschaftslehre” von 1794. Wiss. Buchges., 2006. Schick, Stefan. Contradictio Est Regula Veri: Die Grundsätze des Denkens in der Formalen, Transzendentalen und Spekulativen Logik. F. Meiner, 2010.

58

sommer

Stolzenberg, Jürgen. Fichtes Begriff der Intellektuellen Anschauung: Die Entwicklung in den Wissenschaftslehren von 1793/94 bis 1801/02. Klett-Cotta, 1986. Schulze, Gottlob Ernst. Aenesidemus: oder, über die Fundamente der von dem Herrn Prof. Reinhold in Jena gelieferten Elementar-Philosophie: Nebst einer Vertheidigung des Skepticismus gegen die Anmassungen der Vernunftkritik, 1792. Schwab, Philipp. “‘Gehe der Unbedingtheit des Ich nach …’ Fichtes erste Auseinandersetzung mit Reinhold und die Entwicklung des Grundsatz-Gefüges in den Eignen Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie.” Reinhold and Fichte in Confrontation – A Tale of Mutual Appreciation and Criticism, edited by Martin Bondeli and Silvan Imhof, De Gruyter, 2020, pp. 49–92.

3 The First Principle of Philosophy in Fichte’s 1794 Aenesidemus Review Elise Frketich

Abstract In Aenesidemus, G.E. Schulze adopts the skeptical voice of Aenesidemus and engages in critical dialogue with Hermias, a Kantian, in the hopes of laying bare what he views as the fundamental issues of K.L. Reinhold’s version of critical philosophy. While some attacks reveal a deep misunderstanding of Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie on Schulze’s part, others hit their mark. In the Aenesidemus Review (1794), J.G. Fichte at times agrees with criticisms raised by Aenesidemus and at times defends Reinhold against them. On Fichte’s view, Schulze succeeds in proving that the first principle of Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie, the principle of consciousness (Satz des Bewußtseins), is neither self-evident nor self-determining. Therefore, it cannot be the first principle of philosophy. However, Schulze fails to dissuade Fichte from viewing Reinhold’s principle of consciousness as the pithiest expression of human consciousness of the time. For these reasons, Fichte holds that Reinhold’s principle of consciousness must be deduced from an even higher principle. The goal of this paper is to assess whether Fichte puts forth his own candidate for the first principle of philosophy in his Aenesidemus Review.

Keywords Fichte – Reinhold – Schulze – first principle – Aenesidemus Review

© Elise Frketich, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_004

60 1

frketich

Introduction

In Aenesidemus,1 first published anonymously in 1792, G.E. Schulze adopts the voice of Aenesidemus,2 a skeptic, and engages in critical dialogue with Hermias, a Kantian, in the hopes of laying bare what he views as the fundamental issues with K.L. Reinhold’s version of critical philosophy.3 While some attacks reveal a deep misunderstanding of Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie on Schulze’s part, others hit their mark. In his review of Schulze’s influential text, which I will refer to as the Aenesidemus Review (1794), J.G. Fichte partially agrees with and partially defends Reinhold against the criticisms raised by Aenesidemus.4 On Fichte’s view (and on mine), Schulze succeeds in proving that the first principle of Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie, the principle of consciousness (Satz des Bewußtseins), is neither self-evident nor self-determining. Therefore, it cannot be the first principle of philosophy. However, Schulze fails to dissuade adherents of critical philosophy like Fichte from viewing Reinhold’s principle of consciousness as the pithiest expression of human consciousness of the time. Since Fichte agrees with Reinhold that philosophy is in need of a first principle, and yet holds that Reinhold’s principle of consciousness must be deduced from an even higher principle, the goal of this paper is to assess whether Fichte puts forth his own candidate for the first principle of philosophy in his Aenesidemus Review. My answer will be a qualified ‘Yes’. On my interpretation, Fichte identifies ‘I am’ as the first principle of his future system of philosophy. However, he also indicates that this principle must be guaranteed in a real cognition. Such a guarantee occurs at a later stage of his future system, one that is only announced but not included in the Aenesidemus Review. Thus, I qualify my claim as follows. Although Fichte provides a first principle in the Aenesidemus Review, he does not yet carry out what he views as its necessary demonstration.

1 Aenesidemus, or Concerning the Foundations of the Elementary Philosophy Propounded in Jena by Professor Reinhold, including a Defense of Skepticism against the Pretensions of the Critique of Reason (Aenesidemus, oder über die Fundamente der von dem Herrn Prof. Reinhold in Jena gelieferten Elementar-Philosophie. Nebst einer Vertheidigung des Skepticismus gegen die Anmaßungen der Vernunftkritik) (1792) (henceforth: Aenesidemus). Unless otherwise indicated, all translations are my own. 2 The name derives from the ancient Pyrrhonian skeptic, Aenesidemus of Knossus. 3 While Schulze also attacks Kant’s critical philosophy, Reinhold’s version is his main target. 4 Fichte’s Aenesidemus Review first appeared in the 11, 12 February issues of the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung (reprinted in: ga i/2: 31–68). All translations of this text are by Daniel Breazeale.

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

61

While Daniel Breazeale already puts forth the view that Fichte identifies ‘I am’ as the first principle in his masterful paper on the Aenesidemus Review, he does not rule out the possibility that other principles could be interpreted as the first (1981, 561–563). Yet, the matter is anything but settled in the scholarly debate on a whole. Some view the I (das Ich) as Fichte’s first principle,5 others view the principle of identity as the first.6 Thus, elaborating upon Breazeale’s claim, I provide reasons as to why these other principles cannot be viewed as the first for Fichte in the Aenesidemus Review. Any claims Fichte puts forth about his first principle of philosophy in the Aenesidemus Review are made against the backdrop of Schulze’s criticisms of Reinhold’s principle of consciousness. Accordingly, I will begin by discussing Reinhold’s first principle, along with his criteria for any first principle of philosophy (section 2). I will then discuss those objections raised by Schulze that were most effective in convincing Fichte that Reinhold’s principle cannot be the first (section 3). Finally, I will discuss why I think ‘I am’ is the principle Fichte identifies as the first out of all other possible options in the Aenesidemus Review (section 4). To conclude, I will connect Fichte’s ‘I am’ back to Reinhold’s principle of consciousness.

2

Reinhold’s Principle of Consciousness

K.L. Reinhold made a name for himself by popularising Kant’s critical philosophy in a series of letters published in the Teutsche Merkur (1786). However, he began to grow dissatisfied with the method Kant employed in the Critique of Pure Reason and argued that in order to become a “scientifically certain” philosophical system, the concepts and principles comprising the first Critique would have to be deduced from a higher and sounder foundation. In his Elementarphilosophie (1789–1794), Reinhold both supplies what he views as this solid foundation, and he deduces the concepts and principles that make up Kant’s first Critique from it according to the axiomatic-deductive method. The axiomatic-deductive method is comprised of chains of valid syllogisms that are grounded in one or several self-evident principles. Reinhold decides to

5 See, for example, Allen Wood (1991, 6). 6 Tamás Hankovsky identifies the principle of identity as the first principle of the Grundlage (2016, 80). However, he argues that Fichte already provides support for selecting such a principle in the Aenesidemus Review (2016, 73–74). Since the principle of identity might be interpreted as the first principle in the Aenesidemus Review, and since this is an important interpretation with respect to other texts of Fichte, I think it is an option that must be considered.

62

frketich

restructure Kant’s critical philosophy in this way based on extensive reflections on the criteria that any first principle of philosophy ought to fulfill. I will first list the criteria that Reinhold establishes for the first principle of any philosophical system, before discussing them in turn. According to Reinhold, a first principle must be: i. self-evident ii. a priori iii. prior to all other a priori aspects of first philosophy iv. universally accepted First and foremost, Reinhold argues that the first principle of a philosophical system must be established without any use of philosophical reasoning, otherwise it could not determine the scope and limits of all philosophical reasoning without circularity.7 In order to avoid circularity, Reinhold concludes that the first principle of philosophy must be self-evident. Second, for Reinhold, the first principle of philosophy must express a “fact” that is “evident to all people at all times under any condition” (Beiträge 143). This fact cannot be of the outer or inner senses, otherwise it would be tied to the experience of a particular person. Instead it must be prior to any and all experience, that is, it must be a priori. Third, since Reinhold aims at grounding the concepts and principles comprising Kant’s critical philosophy without circularity, all of which are a priori, the starting point of the Elementarphilosophie must be prior to all other a priori elements of first philosophy. Finally, on Reinhold’s view, the concepts and principles comprising the Critique of Pure Reason are universally valid (allgemeingültig), but they are not universally accepted (allgemeingeltend).8 While ‘universal validity’ means holding in every case, for him, ‘universal acceptance’ literally refers to being something that all human knowers accept (Beiträge, 131, 150). This criterion has been met with much criticism. Most importantly, it is open to the obvious objection that a fact or a principle could easily obtain without all human beings recognising it as such.9 Even Reinhold admits that nothing has been more controversial in

7 Beiträge, 143. It is not until his first articulations of rational realism in 1801 that Reinhold, in the wake of Fichte and C.G. Bardili, accepts virtuous circularity in a philosophical system. 8 See, for example, Beiträge 264–265, Fundament 69–70. 9 Furthermore, many commentators think that this criterion betrays Reinhold’s ongoing adherence to Enlightenment ideals. For example, Karl Ameriks claims that he was influenced in this regard by Ernst Platner, who thought that philosophy needed a more scientific and more popular system (2003, 81), and that a popular philosophical system serves the basic aims of the Enlightenment era (2003, 77). Paul Franks simply states that it is misguided to attempt a sys-

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

63

the past than appeals to common sense (Fundament, 54–55). In my view, this criterion is much more reasonable than is commonly thought. As I interpret Reinhold, it amounts to the claim that anyone who correctly uses their natural capacities cannot deny the principle in question (Beiträge, 131, 150). To deny it would be to contradict reason. According to my interpretation, instead of requiring that all thinkers actually accept the principle, this criterion merely asserts that all human knowers should accept it.10 With these criteria for a first principle of philosophy in mind, the initial challenge Reinhold faces is to identify what he views as the correct starting point of the foundation that is to support Kant’s critical philosophy: For this science that I call universal Elementarphilosophie […], the Critique of Pure Reason indeed established the material but not even the idea of the actual foundation let alone the actual foundation itself. And if this science should ever come to fruition, philosophising reason must go one step further on the analytic way than it did in the Critique of Pure Reason. This step is then the last that it can take on the analytic path to higher principles. Through this step and through it alone, the ultimate and proper foundation of philosophy is discovered. Fundament 71–72

While Reinhold thinks that the principles laid out in the Critique of Pure Reason are correct, he seeks a higher ground upon which to support them. To do so, he analyses the principles and concepts in the Critique of Pure Reason to their common denominator. The result, for Reinhold, is the representation (Vorstellung). By identifying the representation as the common denominator of the principles and concepts comprising the Critique of Pure Reason, Reinhold takes himself to have discovered the most fundamental line of inquiry proper to critical philosophy: the science of the representation.11

10

11

tem that everyone can agree on (2008, 136), and connects it to Reinhold’s understanding of Enlightenment as influenced by his Illuminati affiliation (2008, 154–155). Put in this way, this criterion finds precedence in the works of thinkers like Aristotle, Descartes, and Wolff, who appeal to the indubitability of a principle. Aristotle and Wolff, both state that the principle of non-contradiction cannot properly speaking be proved, but that it is indubitable. See Aristotle (Metaphysics iv, 1005b17–27) and Wolff (German Metaphysics § 10). Descartes famously argues that his first principle, cogito ergo sum, is indubitable (Principles § 7). This science investigates the a priori characteristics of the representation (Fundament, 70). In Reinhold’s view, the elements of critical philosophy, such as space and time, and the categories, are nothing but a priori marks of representation: “The object of [the Elementarphilosophie] […] is that which can be cognised a priori in representations of sensi-

64

frketich

However, since a philosophical system must avoid circularity, on Reinhold’s terms, the science of representation must be established on the basis of a selfevident starting point, independently of the principles and concepts it is meant to ground, namely, those comprising the Critique of Pure Reason. Accordingly, he argues that its starting point must be a fact.12 The term ‘fact’ usually refers to an experienced state of affairs. Accordingly, a fact is of the nature that, all things being equal, if different knowers were in the same position at the same time, then they would affirm the same fact. However, Reinhold’s fact to ground critical philosophy cannot be a fact of inner or outer sense because then the criterion, discussed above, could not be met, namely, that the corresponding principle must be available to all knowers at all times under any conditions. Reinhold identifies the fact of consciousness (Tatsache des Bewußtseins) as the best candidate for the highest fact of critical philosophy, and he does so, on my interpretation, by means of an argument from priority. He reasons that consciousness is ontologically prior both to representations and to the faculty that brings them about because both operate within the field of awareness of the human mind. However, employing an argument from priority in order to arrive at the fact of consciousness does not detract from its self-evidence. The fact remains self-evident in the sense that affirming it as a fact does not require argumentation. Since consciousness is, on Reinhold’s view, the only necessary condition for having a representation, he declares the starting point of the Elementarphilosophie to be the fact of consciousness.13

12

13

bility, of the understanding, and of reason. This can only be the forms determined in the capacity for representation […]. The possibility of a universally accepted proof depends on […] space and time, the twelve categories, and the three forms of the ideas being originally nothing but the characteristics of mere representations […]” (Fundament, 72–73). In my view, there are at least two important influences for Reinhold’s view that a philosophical system must begin with a fact. First, in the Critique of Practical Reason, Kant grounds his practical philosophy in the “fact of reason”, which is recognition of the fact that a rational agent gives him or herself a law according to which he or she should act, that is, that a rational agent is free (aa 5:31). In this Kantian context, a fact is both a self-evident state of affairs, and the recognition of an act. The latter meaning plays on the Latin factum, which denotes a deed or something enacted. Reinhold was likely influenced by this dual meaning since the fact of consciousness is, for Reinhold, indeed both a self-evident state of affairs and the recognition of an act of producing a representation. Second, since he adopts the axiomatic-deductive method of Aristotle, which is later used by the rationalists, in my view, Reinhold was also influenced to begin the Elementarphilosophie with a fact because Aristotle states that a premise in a scientific demonstration must be selfevident. Beiträge 167. In my view, Reinhold uses ‘Tatsache-’ and ‘Faktum des Bewußtseins’ interchangeably. See, for example: Beiträge 143, 267, 278–279.

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

65

Reinhold arrives at the first principle of the Elementarphilosophie by reflection upon the fact of consciousness (Beiträge 143). To explain what he means by ‘reflection’, Reinhold contrasts it with abstraction.14 While the principle gained by means of reflection on the fact of consciousness expresses what can be found within consciousness, a principle gained by abstraction extracts the marks common to different instances of consciousness in order to establish their genus. Reinhold rejects the second option as being a product of induction and, therefore, not apodictically certain.15 Reinhold gives a positive account of reflection, along with the principle of consciousness, which is the result of reflection on the fact of consciousness, in the following: Through no syllogism of reason, but through mere reflection on the fact of consciousness, that means, through the comparison of that which precedes in consciousness, we know that in consciousness, the representation is distinguished by the subject from the object and subject and is referred to both. Fundament 78

Thus, reflection on the fact of consciousness is the process of holding up the object of consciousness, namely, the representation, and considering its origins.16 The result of this process is, for Reinhold, the principle of consciousness: 14

15

16

Reinhold draws this distinction in the following passage: “The mark, by which the representation is established, is received by means of reflection on consciousness, not by means of abstraction from the different kinds of representations. In this way, the representation is thought as representation and not yet in any way as the representation, in general, not yet as genus” (Beiträge 169). Although Reinhold addresses how he establishes the concept of the representation in this passage, it contains a helpful contrast between reflection and abstraction. Furthermore, Reinhold contrasts reflection with analysis. Although the two are similar, analysis is a technical term, for Reinhold, which means that the components of a concept are separated from one another according to a rule (Beiträge 10–11). This rule must be available prior to analysis (Beiträge 11) and will eventually be based on the principle of consciousness. Therefore, the principle of consciousness cannot be established by means of analysis. On my view, Reinhold’s account of reflection was in all likelihood influenced by Kant’s concept of transcendental reflection, which Kant explains as follows: “Reflection (reflexio) does not have to do with objects themselves, in order to acquire concepts directly from them, but is rather the state of mind in which we first prepare ourselves to find out the subjective conditions under which we can arrive at concepts. It is the consciousness of the relation of given representations to our various sources of cognition, through which alone their relation among themselves can be correctly determined” (A260/B316). While

66

frketich

“in consciousness, the representation is distinguished by the subject from the subject and the object and is referred to both”.17 How might the process of reflection result in this principle? To my mind, when I reflect on my own consciousness, I alert myself to the fact that I am aware by noticing that I am aware of something, that is, I am aware of consciousness as intentional. Since mentalevents were thought to be representational during Reinhold’s time, the object of which I am aware is the object of a representation. In order to represent this object, an agent has to do the representing. This is the subject element of the principle of consciousness. Notice that this subject is not the same as consciousness. Consciousness is the field of awareness within which humans have representations. By contrast, the subject carries out the various activities of representing to produce these representations. Finally, the representation is not the object or the subject, but a product of both. This process of reflection, on my reconstruction, yields the first principle of the Elementarphilosophie.18 According to Reinhold, the resulting principle of consciousness is the real and material first principle of philosophy: Not its logical, but its real (reelle) truth, not its thinkability, but what is thought in it, makes [the principle of consciousness] the first principle; and indeed, not a logical or formal principle, but a real, material first principle of the science of the capacity for representation, of the Elementarphilosophie, and through it, of all philosophy in general. Fundament, 86

As I understand Reinhold, the principle of consciousness is real because it corresponds to the fact of consciousness. It expresses the structure of us being conscious of any representation. Accordingly, it expresses the ontological form of any subsequent principles comprising the theory of representation and of human cognition in general.

17 18

transcendental reflection serves the function of identifying the source of cognition, for example, whether it is an object of pure or empirical understanding, such that it can be treated appropriately, Reinhold employs his version of reflection to identify the most fundamental structure of consciousness. However, the two accounts are the same in the sense that, for Reinhold, by reflecting on consciousness, one identifies the most fundamental sources of the representation per se, namely, the object and the subject. See further Beiträge 167. For another charitable description of the process of reflection yielding the principle of consciousness see Frederick Beiser (1987, 253–254).

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

3

67

Schulze’s and Fichte’s Arguments against Reinhold’s Principle of Consciousness

In the Aenesidemus Review, Fichte makes an effort to respond to Schulze on behalf of Reinhold, often even citing works by Reinhold to do so. However, at times, he must grant Schulze’s point. As a result, as I will discuss over the course of this section, Fichte is forced to admit that the highest principle of Reinhold’s Elementarphilosophie, namely, the principle of consciousness, is neither selfevident nor self-determining. Schulze, however, fails to convince Fichte that he needs to relinquish critical philosophy altogether. Fichte only agrees that Reinhold’s principle of consciousness cannot be the first principle, and argues, against Schulze, that it must be grounded in yet a higher principle. Schulze argues that Reinhold’s principle of consciousness cannot be the only first principle of all philosophy since it must be subordinated to the principle of non-contradiction (1792, 60). In defense of Reinhold, Fichte argues that Schulze misses the point of Kant’s epistemological revolution. To do so, Fichte cites Reinhold’s Das Fundament (sw i, 5), in which Reinhold reiterates the Kantian view that the principle of contradiction is ambiguous and that its application must be determined by a higher principle (Fundament, 84–85). Reinhold admits that it would not be possible for the principle of consciousness to go against the principle of non-contradiction; however, he argues that the former is not determined by the latter (Fundament 85). By siding with Reinhold on this point, Fichte demonstrates his commitment to Kant’s view that the use of traditional principles of formal logic to think about real objects must be guided by principles of real cognition. However, Fichte agrees with two of the strongest criticisms that Schulze raises against Reinhold’s first principle. First, Schulze argues that the principle of consciousness is an abstraction; it is extracted from experiences of various intuitions, concepts, and ideas (1792, 76). On my interpretation, Schulze’s argument amounts to the claim that Reinhold is only able to arrive at the structure of a representation by comparing intuitions, concepts, and ideas, and extracting their common structure. Implicit in the argument, as I see it, is the concern that unless Reinhold has abstracted the structure of a representation from intuitions, concepts, and ideas, he could not claim that each of these types of mental events have the same structure.19

19

Both Schulze and Maimon argue that intuitions do not have the same structure as concepts and ideas. See Schulze (1792, 8–9) as well as Maimon’s letter to Reinhold (Korrespondenz, vol. 3, 228–229).

68

frketich

Fichte here partly agrees with Schulze and partly defends Reinhold. While Fichte agrees with Reinhold’s careful distinction between abstraction from intuitions, concepts, and ideas, and reflection on the fact of consciousness, as discussed in the previous section, he nonetheless also partly concedes Schulze’s point, but in a somewhat different sense than Schulze intended: If everything that can be discovered in the mind is an act of representing, and if every act of representing is undeniably an empirical determination of the mind, then the very act of representing, along with all of its conditions, is given to consciousness only through the representation of representing. It is thus empirically given, and empirical representations are the objects of all reflection concerning consciousness. epw, 63; sw i, 7–8

For Fichte, every mental event of which one can be conscious, even a representation in general, is empirical.20 Since Reinhold’s principle of consciousness is obtained by reflection on the fact that I am conscious of a representation, as discussed in the previous section, the resulting principle is, on Fichte’s characterisation, a generalisation from one or some empirical instances to a general rule, which amounts to induction and cannot yield a necessary rule. For this reason, on Fichte’s view, Reinhold’s science of the representation is really the science the representation of a representation.21 Accordingly, although Fichte does not think that Reinhold abstracts from the same mental events that Schulze has in mind, he nonetheless holds that Reinhold employs a form of abstraction and, therefore, induction. Second, Schulze convincingly argues that the principle of consciousness is not self-determining because the terms it contains, namely, ‘representation’, ‘subject’, ‘object’, ‘to refer’, and ‘to distinguish’, are all indeterminate, that is, they could each have several meanings (1792, 63–65). To prove his point, he gives examples of the multiple ways in which one could interpret these terms. ‘To distinguish’ alone could be a partial or a complete differentiation, or a distinction 20

21

See further “The positing of the I is called presentation (Darstellung). The positing of the not-I as real is called representation (Vorstellung). Everything that enters (kommen) into empirical consciousness is representation. Presentation never enters into empirical consciousness, but rather it only constitutes pure consciousness” (Setzung des Ich heißt Darstellung: Setzung des Nicht=Ich als Real, – Vorstellung. – Alles was in’s empirische Bewußtseyn kömmt, ist Vorstellung; Darstellung kömmt nie in’s empirische Bewußtseyn; sondern sie nur macht das reine Bewußtseyn aus), J.G. Fichte, Eigene Meditationen, ga ii/3, 90. sw i, 7–8. See further Franks (2005, 233–234); (2008, 154).

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

69

between ground and grounded, such as, between a whole and its parts, or a substance and its accidents (1792, 66–67). ‘To refer’ could be a connection between cause and effect, substance and accident, whole and parts (1792, 67). Fichte shows his agreement with Schulze by simply stating that Schulze has adduced several convincing possible meanings of each of these concepts, proving that they are undetermined: Aenesidemus, in a manner which satisfies this reviewer at least, has demonstrated by enumerating several possible meanings for these concepts and citing the various and even ambiguous expressions which Reinhold has subsequently employed in the attempt to clarify them. But what if it is precisely the indeterminacy and indeterminability of these concepts which point to a higher principle (which remains to be discovered) and to the material validity of the principle of identity and opposition? And what if the concepts of distinguishing and relating can only be determined by means of the concept of identity and its opposite? epw, 62; sw i, 6

However, on the side of Reinhold, Fichte also suggests that the concepts included in Reinhold’s principle of consciousness could be determined by an even higher principle.

4

Fichte’s Alternative: ‘I Am’

Despite his agreement with two of Schulze’s strongest arguments against Reinhold’s principle of consciousness, Fichte holds that these arguments only successfully show that this principle cannot be a first principle: From what has been said so far it follows that insofar as Aenesidemus’s objections are aimed at the Principle of Consciousness in itself they are groundless. They are, however, appropriate objections to the Principle of Consciousness considered as the first principle of all philosophy and as a mere fact, and they make it necessary to establish a new foundation for this principle. epw, 65; sw i, 10

Fichte, thus, does to the Elementarphilosophie what Reinhold did to Kant’s critical philosophy: he argues that its main principles must be deduced from a higher first principle. Just as Reinhold did with respect to the principles com-

70

frketich

prising Kant’s critical philosophy, Fichte seeks a higher foundation in which to ground Reinhold’s principle of consciousness. In the following famous passage, Fichte specifies what he thinks the higher foundation capable of grounding Reinhold’s principle of consciousness, and, therewith, critical philosophy, looks like: This reviewer [Fichte, referring to himself] anyway is convinced that the principle of consciousness is a theorem which is based upon another first principle, from which, however, the principle of consciousness can be strictly derived, a priori and independently of all experience. The initial incorrect presupposition, and the one which caused the principle of consciousness to be proposed as the first principle of all philosophy, was precisely the presupposition that one must begin with a fact (Thatsache). We certainly do require a first principle which is material and not merely formal. But such a principle does not have to express a fact; it can also express an act (Thathandlung). epw, 64; sw i, 8

Fichte introduces the discussion of his first principle, as he conducts it in the Aenesidemus Review, by suggesting that the first principle of philosophy need not express a fact, but that it could instead express an act. The context of this suggestion makes clear that Fichte seeks a first principle that is independent of experience. Recall that one of his objections to Reinhold’s principle of consciousness was that it is obtained by induction from experience, namely, the experience of a representation. By seeking a principle that does not make this same mistake, but one from which Reinhold’s principle can nonetheless be deduced, I interpret Fichte to pare away what he views as the empirical aspects of Reinhold’s principle of consciousness and hone in on its a priori and most prior ground, namely, the activity of the thinking subject. Fichte further specifies his vision in the following passage, in which he presents the principle that expresses the highest act of his version of critical philosophy, namely, ‘I am’: Following Kant, Reinhold performed an immortal service by calling the attention of philosophizing reason to the fact that philosophy in its entirety has to be traced back to one single first principle, and that one will not discover the system of the human mind’s permanent modes of acting until one has discovered the keystone to this system. […] Suppose that further advances along the path which Reinhold, to his credit, has cleared for

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

71

us should reveal the following: that the most immediately certain thing of all, “I am,” is also valid only for the I; that all that is not-I is for the I only; it is only through its relation to an I that the not-I obtains all of the determinations of this a priori being; that, however, all of these determinations, in so far as they can be known a priori, become absolutely necessary upon the mere condition of a relation between the not-I and any I at all. epw, 73–74; sw i, 20

Fichte again lauds Reinhold for clearing the path upon which he views himself as making further advances. He first praises Reinhold for arguing that philosophy requires a first principle. Second, he shows his agreement with Reinhold that one needs to discover the keystone to the system of critical philosophy in order to establish said system. For Reinhold, that keystone was the fact of consciousness, namely, the fact that consciousness is of representations. While Fichte agrees that this is a fact,22 he holds that it is not the keystone of critical philosophy. For Fichte, that keystone is the act of the I, which in this passage, he further expresses in the proposition ‘I am’. But what about other contenders for first principle in the Aenesidemus Review, for example, the principle of identity, the ‘I’ alone, or the I and not-I taken together? I will now rule out these options in turn. First, on my interpretation of the following passage, which follows directly upon the previously-cited passage, Fichte subordinates the principle of identity to the intellectual activity of the I: From this it would follow that the notion of a thing in itself, to the extent that this is supposed to be a not-I which is not opposed to any I, is selfcontradictory, and that the thing is actually constituted in itself in just that way in which it must be thought to be constituted by any conceivable intelligence (i.e., by any being which thinks in accordance with the principle of identity and contradiction). It would also follow that what is logically true for any intellect which is conceivable by a finite intellect is at the same time true in reality and that there is no other truth than this. epw, 74; sw i, 20

Here Fichte explains that all cognition thought by any conceivable intelligence is determined by the principle of identity and contradiction. For him, this

22

For arguments on behalf of the view that Fichte thinks that consciousness is representational, a view that I agree with, see Messina (2011).

72

frketich

means that the intelligence applies these principles to whatever it thinks, and their use is dependent upon the intelligence. What is the difference between placing the principle of identity above and subordinating it to the intellectual activity of the I? If the principle of identity were higher than the intellectual activity of the I in the philosophical system, then it could be used to determine the reality of objects external to any relation to the I. By contrast, when subsumed under the I, the principle of identity can only reign over whatever can come in relation to the I. The difference is thus one of scope and limits. If we consider the scope of philosophy in light of the earlier-cited passage, in which Fichte discusses the keystone of philosophy, we notice that the ‘I am’ and not-I are only valid in relation to the I. Now let us tie this idea of the scope of philosophy to Fichte’s suggestion, which I cited earlier, that the concepts comprising Reinhold’s principle of consciousness be determined by the material validity of the principles of identity and contradiction. On my interpretation, this means that the concepts Reinhold adduces to explain how a representation is brought forth indeed need to be determined by the principles of identity and contradiction. However, on this view, these principles are not considered as they may be applied to an object external to any relation to the I. Rather, they are considered as they must be applied to anything that is in relation to the I.23 Furthermore, the I alone cannot be the first principle, as I see it, because it is not coherent with Fichte’s suggestion that the first principle of philosophy express an act. While the ‘I’ refers to the intellectual subject, ‘I am’ includes a verb, and therefore, denotes the activity of the intellectual subject. Therefore, ‘I’ alone cannot be the first principle if we are to take seriously Fichte’s suggestion that this principle express an act. Finally, if we were to say that Fichte’s first principle is the I together with the not-I, then we would be claiming that the two are interdependent. However, on my interpretation, Fichte denies this to be the case. First, the pure act of positing stands above the not-I. This is the case because this act does not depend upon the not-I, but the not-I can only be brought about by this act. As I interpret Fichte, the pure act of the I is only dependent on the not-I when we begin to talk about a real cognition of this act, that is, when the act becomes an object of cognition for the I. For example, when I cognise myself as the thinking subject in

23

In other words, the concepts comprising Reinhold’s principle of consciousness do not need to be determined by the formal validity of the principles of identity and contradiction. With this, I view Fichte as following Kant’s distinction between formal and material logical principles. See, for example, Kant’s distinction between types of logical principles within the context of his discussion of formal and material truth (A59/B84).

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

73

‘I think that the leaf is green and yellow’. In this example, the I is a conscious object for itself: it is a not-I. However, when Fichte first proposes that his first principle could express an act, he is referring to a pre-conscious act. Second, Fichte relates everything to the I; he relates the not-I, as well as the proposition ‘I am’ to the I. Thus, on my interpretation, Fichte establishes a clear hierarchy between the I and the not-I. How do Fichte’s claims in the Aenesidemus Review about his first principle, as I have identified it in this paper, relate to Reinhold’s criteria for the starting point of philosophy? Along with being a priori, and prior to all other a priori elements of the human mind, following Reinhold, Fichte holds that the first principle of philosophy must be a material first principle.24 However, Fichte also deviates from Reinhold’s most cherished criterion, namely, that in order to avoid circularity, the first principle of philosophy must be self-evident. Although Fichte holds that the ‘I am’ is that which is most immediate to the thinking subject, he does not think that this principle is selfevident: The mind is a noumenon insofar as it is the ultimate foundation for any particular forms of thought at all. It is a transcendental idea insofar as these forms of thought are considered to be unconditionally necessary laws. But it is a transcendental idea which is distinguished from all other transcendental ideas by the fact that it is realized through intellectual intuition, through the I am, and indeed, through the I simply am, because I am. epw 70; sw i, 16

On my interpretation, Fichte here admits that in order to guarantee the truth of ‘I am’ in a real cognition and, therewith, to justify this proposition as the first real principle of philosophy, we need intellectual intuition. Accordingly, on my understanding, the act of the I, which is expressed in this principle, must 24

Fichte also seems to support Reinhold’s criterion that a first principle be universally accepted because he asserts: “that philosophy has until now lacked a highest, universally valid (allgemeingeltend) principle (Grundsatz), and that it can only be raised to the rank of a science after establishing such a principle” (daß es der Philosophie bisher an einem obersten allgemeingeltenden Grundsatze gemangelt habe, und daß sie nur nach Aufstellung eines solchen zum Range einer Wissenschaft sich werde erheben können), J.G. Fichte, Eigene Meditationen, ga ii/3, 27. Furthermore, as David W. Wood explains, in the Eigne Meditationen, all of Fichte’s attempts at a first principle revolve around students consciously intuiting their own I (2012, 136). To my mind, this performative aspect of Fichte’s first principle recalls Reinhold’s universal acceptance criterion.

74

frketich

become an object for the I. In so doing, on Fichte’s view, it becomes empirical.25 However, since the ‘I am’ is initially understood in a pre-conscious sense, such that Fichte does not make what he views as the same mistake that Reinhold made by abstracting his first principle from consciousness of a representation, this principle must be justified in a later stage of the deduction.26 Therefore, on my interpretation, against Reinhold, Fichte’s first principle is grounded by a virtuous circle. This brings me back to the claim of this paper; on my view, in the Aenesidemus Review, while Fichte puts forth a first principle of philosophy, he does not yet provide its requisite proof. As I have explained, Fichte only suggests that the proposition ‘I am’, which expresses a Tathandlung, is the first principle of philosophy. On my interpretation, this suggestion does not indicate an uncertainty on Fichte’s part regarding which principle is the first in his system of philosophy, but rather it indicates an awareness of the fact that he has not yet demonstrated it in real cognition. In this sense, I view Fichte as outlining a clear plan for the Wissenschaftslehre in his Aenesidemus Review, one that he only completes in the 1794 Grundlage.

5

Conclusion

Over the course of this paper, I have argued that Fichte asserts a first principle in the Aenesidemus Review, but that he does not yet provide its requisite demonstration. By way of conclusion, I would like to add a speculative connection between Reinhold’s principle of consciousness and Fichte’s Tathandlung. When Fichte suggests that the first principle could be a Tathandlung instead of a Tatsache, on my interpretation, he proposes to simplify the principle of consciousness by paring away the cumbersome elements that involve its being a fact. With this, he gives precedence to the activities of identifying and opposing, as announced at the beginning of his Review when he muses that those 25

26

See further “I am – does it reach (gelangen) consciousness? Yes. However, it does not reach empirical but rather pure consciousness. Furthermore, it is itself pure consciousness. As soon as one wants to prove (beweisen) it in some way, one forces it down (herabnötigen) to empirical consciousness” (ich bin – gelangt es zum Bewußtseyn? Ja; aber nicht zum empirischen; sondern zum reinen: und es ist selbst das reine Bewußtseyn. Sobald man es auf irgend eine Art beweisen will, so nöthigt man es zum empirischen herab), J.G. Fichte, Eigene Meditationen, ga ii/3, 144. See further: “The first and highest facts do not themselves reach (gelangen) consciousness. The highest fact that reaches consciousness is indeed the Reinholdian” (Die ersten u. höchsten Facta selbst gelangen nicht zum Bewußtseyn; das höchste, was zum Bewußtseyn gelangt, ist wohl das Reinholdsche), J.G. Fichte, Eigene Meditationen, ga ii/3, 25.

the first principle in fichte’s 1794 aenesidemus review

75

elements of the principle of consciousness, namely, ‘distinguishing’ and ‘relating’, might need to be determined “by the material validity of the principle of identity and opposition” (epw, 62; sw i, 6). On my somewhat speculative interpretation, Fichte’s I replaces the subject element, the not-I replaces the ‘object’, and the activity of the I will determine the relating and distinguishing activity that eventually brings forth a representation of which the thinking subject can be conscious.27

Bibliography Ameriks, Karl. “Reinhold's Challenge: Systematic Philosophy for the Public.” Bondeli, Martin and Wolfgang Schrader. Fichte-Studien-Supplementa: Die Philosophie Karl Leonhard Reinholds. Amsterdam et al.: Rodopi, 2003. 77–103. Bardili, C.G. and K.L. Reinhold. Briefwechsel über das Wesen der Philosophie und das Unwesen der Spekulation. München: Lentner, 1804. Beiser, Frederick C. The Fate of Reason: German Philosophy from Kant to Fichte. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987. Breazeale, Daniel. “Fichte’s “Aenesidemus” Review and the Transformation of German Idealism.” Review of Metaphysics (1981): 34:4. 545–568. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Eds.: Erich Fuchs, Hans Gliwitzky, Reinhard Lauth and Peter K. Schneider. Stuttgart: Frommann-Holzboog, 1962–2012. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Early Philosophical Writings (epw), translated and edited by Daniel Breazeale. Ithaca and London, 1988. Franks, Paul. All or Nothing: Systematicity, Transcendental Arguments, and Skepticism in German Idealism. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005. Franks, Paul. “Reinholds systematische Ambiguität und die Ursprü nge der Fichteschen Wissenschaftslehre.” Kersting, Wolfgang and Dirk Westerkamp. Am Rande des Idealismus. Paderborn: Mentis, 2008. 129–157. Hankovszky, Tamás. “Die Logik und der Grundsatz der Philosophie bei Reinhold und Fichte.” Fichte-Studien (2016): 43. 71–82. Messina, James. “Answering Aenesidemus: Schulze’s Attack on Reinholdian Representationalism and Its Importance for Fichte.” Journal of the History of Philosophy (2011): 49:3. 339–369.

27

See further: “1) I and not-I are opposed. 2) Opposed things are unified (are facts) in a third thing and are differentiated from the third thing” (1) Ich u. Nicht-Ich werden entgegengesezt. 2.) Entgegengesezte Dinge vereinigt (sey Thatsache,) in einem 3ten. u. das dritte unterschieden), J.G. Fichte, Eigene Meditationen, ga ii/3, 48.

76

frketich

Reinhold, K.L. Beiträge zur Berichtigung bisheriger Mißverständnisse der Philosophen, vol. i–ii. Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 2003. Reinhold, K.L. Gesammelte Schriften. Bondeli, M. (ed.). Basel: Schwabe, 2011–. Reinhold, K.L. Korrespondenz. Stuttgart: Frommann-Holzboog, 1983–. Schulze, Gottlob Ernst. “Aenesidemus, oder über die Fundamente der von dem Herrn Prof. Reinhold in Jena gelieferten Elementar-Philosophie. Nebst einer Vertheidigung des Skepticismus gegen die Anmaaßungen der Vernunftkritik.” (1792). Wood, Allen. “Fichte’s Philosophical Revolution.” Philosophical Topics (1991): 19:2. 1–28. Wood, David W. “Axioms, Intuition and Construction”, chapter in: “Mathesis of the Mind”: A Study of Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre and Geometry (2012), 121–197.

teil 2 / part 2 The First Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre

∵

4 Why Is the First Principle of the Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre Foundational for Fichte’s Entire Wissenschaftslehre? Alexander Schnell

Abstract This article aims at a new interpretation of paragraph §1 of Fichte’s main work of 1794/95, the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre. This well-known text of the early Jena period explicitly introduces a number of thought motifs that will prove to be valuable for the later versions of the Wissenschaftslehre – including the second version of 1804 – and these motifs will furthermore illuminate the significance of the first principle for Fichte’s entire Wissenschaftslehre.

Keywords first principles – positing – categorical hypotheticity – self-consciousness – Tathandlung (act)

The main goal of this article is to try and present a new interpretation of paragraph §1 of the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (known in English under the title: The Science of Knowledge, or: Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre).1 It will become clear that this famous text explicitly introduces thought motifs that will prove to be very valuable for the later versions of the Wissenschaftslehre – I am particularly thinking of (but not exclusively) the second version of 1804 – and these motifs will in turn help shed light on the significance of the first principle for Fichte’s entire Wissenschaftslehre. Due to space constraints, I naturally cannot present all the interconnections that 1 J.G. Fichte, Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (ga i/2: 249–451). A new English translation is forthcoming in: J.G. Fichte, Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre and Related Writings, 1794–95, edited and translated by Daniel Breazeale (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021).

© Alexander Schnell, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_005

80

schnell

would be necessary for the required demonstration. However, I will try to give at least a few precise hints so that the reader has enough material to follow the essential elements of my argument. Despite the many very important studies and commentaries on the first paragraphs of the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (such as: Baumanns, Böhme, Class/Soller, Gloy), and even very outstanding ones (including: Cramer, Schäfer, Stolzenberg etc.), in my opinion the goal and justification of Fichte’s first principle is still in need of a certain amount of clarification. – Fichte presents it as the first principle of “all human knowledge” in perhaps the best-known version of the Wissenschaftslehre (the Jena one of 1794/95). I would now like to deal with both these points, and in particular to answer the following two questions: What exactly is intended with the formulation of a “first principle”? And what kind of justification is provided by Fichte? Although Fichte’s line of argumentation has often been presented, please allow me to do this again. I will proceed as clearly and stringently as possible. First of all, I will reformulate the issues raised by Fichte at the beginning of the first paragraph of the Grundlage, because I believe that this will make the goal of the first principle easier to understand. In a second part I will then try to reconstruct Fichte’s grounding of this principle. The first step is to try and answer the following four questions: 1. Why do we have to “look for” or seek out the first principle – “aufsuchen” in German? Why can’t it just be stated? Because it is not artificial. Still, you can’t just point your finger at it. This means that it is also simultaneously an object of “free speculation”. It is therefore highly important and significant to think these two aspects of non-artificiality and free speculation together. This is what constitutes the “genesis” or “Tathandlung” (act),2 to which I will return in a moment, which intrinsically justifies the first principle and expresses a demand that is of systematic and decisive importance for it. 2. Why can the first principle be neither proven nor determined? It cannot be proved, because nothing precedes it or is the basis for it. And it also cannot be determined, i.e. measured or limited, because everything follows from it. The first principle therefore permeates all knowledge and all reality! It thereby expresses a Tathandlung (act) that is dominated by the basic law of all certainty, just as the categorical imperative (in Kant) expresses the moral law.

2 See J.G. Fichte, Wissenschaftslehre 1804/ii, Lecture xiii (ga ii/8: 202).

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

81

3.

But what exactly is a Tathandlung (act), and how does it relate to a fact or “facts”? The two are separated by an abyss. The facts concern everything “occurring in consciousness”; the Tathandlung, on the other hand, first “makes possible” that consciousness (that is, the consciousness of whatever occurs within itself). But how is this “making possible” to be understood? It not only refers (as with Kant) to a condition of the possibility of knowledge. Because it “can be postulated” (which signifies that it must necessarily be thought), it is rather accessible through a special intuition (Anschauung) (namely – in accordance with what must be thought – an intellectual intuition). Strictly speaking, Fichte himself only relates the concept of “intellectual intuition” to the I (Ich);3 but if “Tathandlung”, “genesis” and “transcendentality” are correctly understood here – i.e. in their genetic dimension – it becomes clear why this kind of intuition also applies to what has taken place in the Tathandlung. Just as there are two intuitions (the empirical and the intellectual), so there are also two stages: that of facts (Tatsachen) and that of acts (Tathandlungen). This should not be simply equated with the distinction between “empirical” and “transcendental”, precisely because, as has just been suggested, Fichte employs a different concept of the transcendental than was the case with Kant. 4. How do we now get from the level of facts (of consciousness) to that of the Tathandlung that brings the I into being? Through “abstracting reflection” (abstrahierende Reflexion). But this does not mean a creative process “per forza di levare” (cf. Michelangelo and later Giacometti – i.e. it is not a successive removal of what is merely (materially or content-wise) present), but a genetisation in the non-empirically conscious, which at the same time “generates” what is “sought-for” (or “required”), as it were. Let us now see how Fichte literally puts this method into practice. The following ten steps can be adhered to in Fichte’s grounding of the first principle:

3 “Intellectual intuition is the name I give to the act required of the philosopher: an act of intuiting himself while simultaneously performing the act by means of which the I originates for him. Intellectual intuition is the immediate consciousness that I act and of what I do when I act: it is because of this that it is possible for me to know something because I do it.” J.G. Fichte, Second Introduction, translated by Daniel Breazeale, in: Introductions to the Wissenschaftslehre and Other Writings (Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. Indianapolis/Cambridge, 1994), p. 46. “Dieses dem Philosophen angemutete Anschauen seiner selbst im Vollziehen des Aktes, wodurch ihm das Ich entsteht, nenne ich intellektuelle Anschauung. Sie ist das unmittelbare Bewusstsein, dass ich handle, und was ich handle: Sie ist das, wodurch ich etwas weiß, weil ich es tue”, Zweite Einleitung in die Wissenschaftslehre (ga i/4: 216–217).

82

schnell

Step 1: We start from “A is A”; A equals A (“A = A”). In this way, it is established that something (what is posited) is identical with itself. From the absolute certainty of this principle (the principle of identity), i.e. the impossibility of giving an external ground for it, there follows (and this is exactly the first step) that one is justified in attributing to oneself the faculty of “positing something absolutely” (etwas schlechthin zu setzen). Perhaps it should be emphasized from the outset that Fichte is not concerned with the determination of the “A” or (at least superficially) with the principle of identity, but with the legitimation – for the “knower” – of the claim to the certainty of any principle or proposition (Satz) at all.4 It is precisely this general legitimation of knowledge or cognition that Fichte has set his sights on when trying to determine the essence and nature of “positing something absolutely.” Step 2: The latter now raises two questions. First: What is this “schlechthinnige Setzen” (positing absolutely)? Secondly, what exactly is this faculty (Vermögen) of being able to posit something absolutely, and what is it based on? According to Fichte, both can be traced back to the one question of what constitutes absolute certainty in general. Hence, here in fact we are dealing with the question of establishing certainty. This certainty describes what makes knowledge a kind of knowledge at all.5 Fichte describes the latter as the “form” of a proposition and distinguishes it from its “content” (Gehalt), which constitutes the “what exactly” (Wovon) of knowledge (in the present case: the I – das Ich). So what does the “form of certainty” consist of? This is, according to Fichte’s basic thesis in the second step, what establishes the necessary connection between the “If” and the “Then”, in “If A, then A” (which is another formulation of “A = A”). It is imperative (and this is one of the main aims of my contribution) to pay particular attention to this necessary context, a connection provisionally termed “X”, and therefore especially to what makes it possible. Here everything begins with clarifying the justification for this necessary connection; but it also expresses the centre-point of the entire first paragraph and is crucially important until the end of it. So far it can be said that any kind of certainty, any kind of knowledge, insofar as it is only a knowledge that is based on having a transition in it from a purely hypothetical “if” to a categoricity that consists in the latter being in a necessary connection with the “then”. 4 In his recapitulation of the entire line of argumentation (gwl, ga i/2: 260–261), Fichte emphasizes once again that we have to necessarily start from a “certain” proposition, in order to establish the first principle on this foundation. 5 See Wissenschaftslehre 1804/ii, third lecture.

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

83

Step 3: The third step is one of the most difficult in the Grundlage and certainly one of the trickiest. It has to clarify how the “I” (das Ich) is interwoven into all of this. I would agree with Konrad Cramer’s thesis that in this context Fichte remains true to one of the pioneering insights of Kant’s epistemology, that is to say, his determination of the function of judgment, or of judging.6 It must be pointed out, generally speaking, that we are dealing here with various determinations of “positing” (Setzen): the act of positing (setzen), the proposition (Satz), the first or grounding principle (Grundsatz), the law (Gesetz). Of course, this is not a superficial playing with words, but seeks to highlight the different, yet inwardly interrelated expressions of the activity of “judging”. This connection consists in, or is established by the fact that judging is “an action of the human spirit.”7 – None of the following are possible at all – neither positing, or the tracing back of a proposition to a first principle, or a judging “according to X, as a law” – without the I. This is not a rhapsodistic list, but each of these three activities must be fully understood and taken seriously. It is therefore not a matter here of the I merely having to “accompany” every representation, and also not of a noematic fact (Sachverhalt) experiencing a noetic doubling up, but rather of showing the ineluctability of the I (Unhintergehbarkeit des Ich) in every positing judgement or in every judging act of positing. Another great difficulty in this third step is obviously the ontological conclusion that is at the end of it: “If A is posited in the I, then it is posited; or – it simply is”. In German: “Wenn A im Ich gesetzt ist, so ist es gesetzt; oder – so ist es.” It was previously claimed that in and through the “If A-then A relationship” nothing is said about the content of A, that it should not actually entail any inferences about its being. Accordingly, how can one justifiably claim that A “is”? Here Fichte anticipates what he describes in the Second Version of the 1804 Wissenschaftslehre as its real “achievement”, of what was simply demanded in the scholastic proof concerning the existence of the “entis realissimi”. Nothing is said here about the “what” of the A, but only about the form. Yet if we are to think in a necessary manner, and this “necessary thinking” is seen (intellectually intuited), then this includes being (Sein) (qua Dasein or existence)!8

6 See Konrad Cramer, “Kants ‘Ich denke’ und Fichtes ‘Ich bin’”, Konzepte der Rationalität in: Internationales Jahrbuch des Deutschen Idealismus/International Yearbook of German Idealism 1 (2003): 70. 7 gwl, ga i/2: 258. 8 “[…] I say: seeing, posited as seeing, follows that it one will really see; or: seeing necessarily sees,” Wissenschaftslehre 1804/ii, lecture xxvii, Meiner, p. 267. Fichte explains this point in the same passage (still using the example of the existence of seeing) as follows: “Seeing, posited

84

schnell

Necessary thinking means: posting absolutely (schlechthin Setzen). And positing absolutely is similar to being. Fichte is here thinking in a highly rigorous fashion not of the identity of any kind of thinking and being, but of the identity of necessary thinking (i.e. the thinking of necessity) and being. At this point, the indissoluble interconnectedness of transcendentality and ontological methods of proof appears for the first time in Fichte (which is then prominently continued in the middle and late Fichte). Step 4: How is the existence or “being” of A to be understood exactly with regard to this particular context? Once again: It is not claimed that A exists, but that in its relation to X, which indeed guarantees the union of A (in “A = A”), A is absolutely posited for the judging I, and is in the I by virtue of it being posited. But this guarantee of the union of A presupposes the (Kant would say: synthetic) unity of the authority on which it is based, that is, of what was called above the “ineluctability of the I” – whose (synthetic) unity is simply expressed by “I = I”. Thus, the following applies: one starts with the principle of identity that everyone can grant (“A = A”) (first step). “A = A” is based on X (second step); X is based on the I (third step); and the I in turn is the same as itself, “I = I” or: “I am I” (fourth step). Step 5: For everything else a terminological clarification is appropriate, which seems to partly contradict the Fichtean wording. However, it is indispensable, if we are to understand the concrete train of thought at issue here. An essential point at the beginning consisted in distinguishing the level of the “fact(s)” (Tatsache(n)) from the level of the “act” (Tathandlung). On the side of fact(s) we have: A = A (mere hypotheticity; analytical unity); below: X = “I = I”, or “I am I” (= law of “categorical hypotheticity”); and even further below: I am9 (= synthetic unity). In the next step, the “I am” qua act (Tathandlung) will be distinguished from the “I am” qua mere fact (Tatsache). On the basis of Fichte’s explanations, the following should be noted: a. The form of identity of A = A must be fundamentally distinguished from that of I = I. A = A is conditioned. If A is posited, then it is identical to

as seeing, means that it will be thought; […] thereby, that is becomes posited, what it is, nothing is posited about its being or non-being, but this remains problematic; […] but insofar it is derived: it sees necessarily, so that its existence is positively posited and stated [emphasis mine] […] Thus, here existence, the true inner essence of existence, is genetically derived, and it was precisely a matter of this derivation.” (ibid.) 9 gwl, ga i/2: 257–258.

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

b.

c.

85

itself – but whether it actually becomes posited, remains undecided. I = I on the other hand, is not conditioned. Its positing includes its being (and vice versa). Later Fichte will say: If you want to read hypothecticity into this, then it has to be a categorical one. The unconditionedness concerns form and content – thus the categorical hypotheticity and the I as I itself. It is remarkable to note that the categorical hypothecticity – i.e. what Fichte will call the “Soll” (ought or should) in 1804 – not only expressly designates the relation of A = A to the “I am”, but that Fichte also seems to already be literally using the Soll-formulation here: “Should the proposition A = A (or more determinately, that which is posited absolutely in it = X) be certain, then the proposition: I am, is certain.”10 However, that is only an illusion, since the fully accurate understanding of Soll has not yet been obtained. This is because in 1804 the Soll (ought) refers to the principle (light), and the Muss “must” to its phenomenal condition (the positing and destruction of the concept), while here the “A = A” is fully and entirely conditioned by the “I am”, and therefore does not include the peculiar mutual relationship that characterizes the concept-light-being schema in the Second Version of the 1804 Wissenschaftslehre. What is the difference between “I am” as fact and the “I am” as act (Tathandlung)? At the level of fact, the categorical hypotheticity, positing, on the one hand, and the synthetic unity, being, on the other hand, are still separated. At the level of the Tathandlung, both are interwoven and intertwined in the “I am” (more on this in step six). The “I am” qua fact corresponds to the “empirical I”, and the “I am” qua Tathandlung to the “transcendental I” (of course with the already mentioned restrictions, under which such a terminological approach alone is possible).

Step 6: What exactly constitutes the “I” as a Tathandlung or act (i.e. qua transcendental I (in the seventh step Fichte speaks of the I as the “absolute subject”))? a. It is “pure”, characterized by a “pure character of activity as such”. This means: b. on the one hand, that it posits itself, it is grounded in itself; c. on the other hand, that it is the ground for every other (determined) action of the human mind. (It is therefore an almost infinite (indefinite, unlimited) ground of every finite action).

10

gwl, ga i/2: 258.

86

schnell

d.

It is, as already indicated, because it posits itself, it is the ground for its own being; and inversely, insofar as it is, it posits itself. It follows from this that it is both “the acting agent and the product of the action”. The “act” (Tathandlung) therefore indicates that what is active (the action/Handlung) and what is produced by its doing (the deed – Tat) are identical or one and the same.11

Steps 7, 8 and 9: The seventh step has mainly a more explanatory character, that is to say, it explains in more detail what has already been established. The same applies to the eighth and ninth steps. I will therefore consider these three steps together and highlight four further fundamental determinations of the “I” (as a Tathandlung): a. Fichte emphasizes once again that this entire treatment of the I, as mentioned, can only be carried out within the framework of a theory of judgement. Then it would be possible to interpret the proposition “I = I”, or “I am I”, in such a way that the first I constitutes the absolutely posited I (das schlechthin gesetzte Ich) and the second I is the existing I (das seiende Ich). This implies that the I is, because it has posited itself. On account of the absolute identity, however, these two understandings of the I in this proposition could also be inverted, which means: the I posits itself because it is. Fichte therefore stresses here the inner mutual causality of the absolute I: “And this makes completely clear the sense in which we are here using the term “I” and leads us to a determinate explanation of the I as absolute subject. That entity, whose being (essence) consists simply in positing itself as being, is the I as absolute subject. It is as it posits itself to be, and it posits itself as it is. Consequently, the I exists purely and simply and necessarily for the I. [More in a moment on this necessary determination]. Anything that does not exist for itself is not an I.”12 (“Und dies macht es denn völlig klar, in welchem Sinne wir hier das Wort Ich brauchen, und führt uns auf eine bestimmte Erklärung des Ich, als absoluten Subjekts. Dasjenige, dessen Sein (Wesen) bloß darin besteht, dass es 11

12

To be sure, Fichte here mentions that the act (Tathandlung) of the self-positing and thereby in its being the presenting I is the “only possible one”. But in other passages – for example in the Züricher Vorlesungen (ga iv/3, 23f.) and the Naturrecht (ga i/3, 336) – he speaks of many acts (Tathandlungen) (cf. W. Class/A.K. Soller, Kommentar zu Fichtes Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre, Amsterdam/New York, Rodopi, 2004, p. 33). This is surely to be understood that there is solely one act (Tathandlung) for the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre – but which does not exclude the possibility that the second and third principles likewise ground a (specific) act (Tathandlung). (Translation into English of this excerpt by Daniel Breazeale).

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

b.

c.

13 14 15

87

sich selbst als seiend setzt, ist das Ich, als absolutes Subjekt. So wie es sich setzt, ist es; und so wie es ist, setzt es sich; und das Ich ist demnach für das Ich schlechthin, und notwendig [zu dieser Notwendigkeitsbestimmung gleich noch mehr]. Was für sich selbst nicht ist, ist kein Ich”).13 The second point concerns the problem of the connection between the I and self-consciousness. Fichte introduces this problem with the question: “What was the I before it arrived at self-consciousness?” (“Was war das Ich, bevor es zum Selbstbewusstsein kam?”) This question implies that we can separate apart the intuiting subject (self-conscious or self-aware subject) and the intuited subject (qua “object” of self-consciousness). However, Fichte is precisely disputing the possibility of such a separation! This means that he sees the fundamental determination of the I as being, insofar as it posits itself (and vice versa), in a direct relation to the I becoming conscious of itself. In the eighth step, Fichte underscores that the “For me” (Für mich) is identical with the positing of being. Therefore, self-consciousness is always implicitly thought in the positing of oneself: “The I exists only insofar as it is conscious of itself. […] One cannot think of anything whatsoever without thinking as well of one’s I, as conscious of itself. One can never abstract from one’s self-consciousness.” (Das Ich ist nur insofern, inwiefern es sich seiner bewusst ist. […] Man kann gar nichts denken, ohne sein Ich, als sich seiner selbst bewusst, mit hinzu zu denken; man kann von seinem Selbstbewusstsein nie abstrahieren).14 This means that the I cannot be fixed in advance, so that it can in no way be presupposed with regard to its reality. And in contrast to the mode of consciousness that is directed at an object, self-consciousness – in complete agreement with the fundamental determination of the absolute subject – consists precisely in the unity of doing (acting) and the product of it. Just above we showed how Fichte had brought into play the necessity of positing when he equated positing (Setzen) with being (Sein) (fifth step). This positing of the necessity now also takes place, as mentioned, within the essential determination of self-consciousness: “I am only for myself ; but for myself I am necessary (by saying ‘for myself ’, I already posit my being)” (Ich bin nur für mich; aber für mich bin ich notwendig) (indem ich sage für Mich, setze ich schon mein Sein).15 This means that the necessity of positing is precisely the link binding together being and thinking (qua the positing of being (Seinssetzung)). With this, Fichte completes the line gwl, ga i/2: 259–260. gwl, ga i/2: 260. Ibid.

88

d.

schnell

of argumentation that he had begun in the third step (which started there from the necessary thinking of being), but now he also does this from the side of the self-positing of the I. Whether we consider the form, or the content, of the principle of the I – in both cases the positing of necessity arises. This closes the circle concerning the determination of the form and the content of the I. In the ninth step, both are expressed again in a different way, which has a preparatory character for Fichte’s final formulation of the first principle. As far as the form is concerned, we have seen that the positing of the I implies its being. This may be expressed as follows: The I is, because it has posited itself, or: “I am absolutely, because I am” (Ich bin schlechthin, weil ich bin).16 With regard to the content of the I, there is an identity between the positing I and the existing I – the I is what it has posited itself to be, and it posits itself as what it is: “I am absolutely, what I am” (Ich bin schlechthin, was ich bin).17 Both are then combined together in the first foundational principle.

10th (and final) step: From here Fichte finally comes to the ultimate formulation of the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre. “I am absolutely, that is, I am absolutely because I am, and I am absolutely, what I am – both for the I.” (Ich bin schlechthin, d.i. ich bin schlechthin, weil ich bin; und bin schlechthin, was ich bin; beides für das Ich).18 This is succinctly stated by Fichte as: “The I originally posits absolutely its own being.” (“Das Ich setzt ursprünglich schlechthin sein eigenes Sein.”)19 In summary, this comprises the following essential components: In the first principle of the Grundlage those fundamental characteristics are introduced and united which will then also be of central importance for the later versions of the Wissenschaftslehre – namely the categorical hypotheticity (necessary positing (Notwendigkeitssetzung), the ontological method of proof (positing of being (Seinssetzung)), self-consciousness (as unity of activity and product) and the all-encompassing, all interconnecting and mediating I-hood (Ichheit)). This first principle was sought for in so far as it cannot merely be established or asserted, but – precisely in accordance with this determination of categorical hypotheticity (which, of course, in a terminological sense is not fully completed 16 17 18 19

Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. gwl, ga i/2: 261.

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

89

until 1804) – is theoretically and practically required in the specific modality of a “Soll” (an ought) (and this is not an insufficiency, and it is also not a weakness!) Fichte returns to this point at the very end of paragraph § 1. In the penultimate part of the first paragraph, it is again the doctrine of judgment that allows two important conclusions to be drawn from the whole line of argumentation. The first conclusion concerns the “proving” and “determining” of the first principle of logic (in contrast, the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre can neither be “proven” nor “determined”); the second conclusion concerns the basic category of reality. The starting point was the view that “seeking” the first principle required the guiding thread of the doctrine of judgement. The key point here is that any talk of “positing”, “proposition”, “law”, “first principle”, etc. implies a reference to the I, and vice versa (this is the result of the previous investigation), that “I am” also provides the grounding for this entire topic of positing. The “I am” is the highest authority for positing, and for positing in general. Insofar as it is not a substantial I, it is possible to abstract from the content of this proposition, i.e. from the “I” that does the positing. Then there still remains the form, where Fichte reminds us that it constitutes “the form of inference from being posited (Gesetztsein) to being” (by the way, this formulation confirms once again that the categorical hypotheticity and the ontological method of proof are thought together in the grounding derivation of the first principle). And precisely this form now establishes the first principle of logic, namely the principle of identity “A = A”, because the act of identifying with oneself (die Mitsich-selbst-Gleichsetzung) can, as already noted, be derived from the principle of categorical hypotheticity (If [… ought], then [must …]). A first abstraction (namely from the positer) within the first principle “I am” therefore permits the founding of formal logic. Systematically speaking, the second abstraction within the same first principle is even more important – that is to say, that of positing in general. When positing the “I am”, if we also now disregard the specific, concrete act of positing itself – then what is left over? What remains is the purely posited product. Fichte designates this as the basic category of “reality”: “That which is posited by the mere positing of any kind of thing (of something posited in the I) is the reality in it […]”20 In a certain sense, Fichte recognizes “reality” as the highest degree of generality: What is real (in the I) is therefore what is posited in it

20

Ibid.

90

schnell

through the positing of something. Real-being = being posited through the act of positing (durch das Setzen Gesetzt-Sein).21 “The being posited through the act of positing” (Durch-das-Setzen-Gesetzt-Sein)22 expresses at the logical level that identification in the first principle of logic. Therefore, the starting point of A = A is not arbitrary, and goes beyond the first highlighted thought that we can only start from something certain: this is because it at least provides an indication of how reality must be understood: “Everything to which the proposition A = A applies, has reality, to the extent that the same is applicable to it” (ibid.). Reality is therefore fundamentally characterized by a possible identifying with oneself (Mit-sich-selbst-Gleichsetzung) (that is grounded and accomplished by the absolute I). This also shows to what extent this second abstraction makes the founding of the theory of categories possible. The absolute I and the individual categories are mediated by the basic category of reality that is derived in this way. Fichte concludes paragraph one of the Grundlage with various historical references. I will finish my talk by briefly looking at these systematic and significant hints. Fichte sets two systems against one another, which he regards as the only two “completely consistent” systems that ever exist: the “critical” system and the “Spinozistic” one. The first is in particular the Kantian, or Cartesian, and where Reinhold’s system even went “a considerable step further.” Nevertheless, all three have remained at the threshold of determining the first principle, without actually exceeding it. First of all, Kant: According to Fichte, in his deduction of the categories in the Critique of Pure Reason Kant had “pointed to” the first principle. Here Fichte 21

22

In this context, Fichte introduces for the first time the concept of the “transferral” (Übertragen) (reality has all of this, which the same is transferred out of the I), which is then in paragraph E ii, in § 4, which concerns the “form if change” and more closely determined. Also see here the decisive passage in § 5 of the practical part of the Grundlage, which – in a completely significant and precise way, completing the present argumentation – lays out a definitive solution for the problem of reality in the framework of the Wissenschaftslehre: “The I posits itself absolutely, and thereby it is perfected in itself, and closed off from all external impressions. But it also has to posit itself, if it is to be an I, and posited through itself [emphasis mine]; and through this new positing, which relates to the original positing [emphasis mine], the external impression is opened up to it, as I say; it posits the possibility solely through this repetition of positing, that there could also be something in itself, which is not posited through the same”, gwl, ga i/2: 410. The ultimate ground for the opening up of all reality is therefore not any kind of check “Anstoß” (which only concerns the theoretical I) but the mentioned “being posited through positing itself”, which – as Fichte here expressly underscores – is due to the self-positing I (through which the absolute I ultimately proves to be theoretical-practical).

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

91

is obviously alluding to the following sentence: The “unity of consciousness would be impossible if in the cognition of the manifold the mind could not become conscious of the identity of the function by means of which this manifold [this clearly means: the unity of apperception] is synthetically combined into one cognition”.23 For Kant, this means that the “highest point to which (sic!) one […] must affix all transcendental philosophy” (B 134; Critique of Pure Reason, p. 247), is a (synthetic) unity, which is characterized by the fact that the possibility of it becoming conscious of itself is bound to the consciousness of the synthetic connection of the manifold. Here Kant therefore “pointed to” (“gedeutet”) the following: The first principle of transcendental philosophy is the “I am active” of transcendental apperception, which substantially does not precede anything and anybody, but only allows its own unity to become conscious in and through its synthetic actions. Kant, however, never talks about the “being” of this transcendental apperception, on account of a good and a bad reason: the good reason is because there can be no substantial being of the transcendental I that precedes any consciousness or being-conscious (BewusstSein). The bad reason is that this does not have to mean a rejection of every ontological determination of the absolute I: Its being (Sein) lies – and this is Fichte’s completion of the transcendental approach – in the positing of oneself (qua the principle of self-consciousness) (and vice versa). And this principle of positing oneself is precisely one that had not yet been formulated by Kant. In Descartes, Fichte sees a similar first principle to his own – namely, in the way he transforms the “cogito, ergo sum” into a “cogitans sum, ergo sum.” Here, however, the “cogitans” is superfluous, for the cogitans is based on being, and the inverse does not hold at all (thinking is at most a determination of being). Therefore, Descartes stopped at a gnoseological determination of the I, and was not able to adequately grasp its essential being. Reinhold can also be reproached in a similar manner – even though his determination of the I’s being is more profound than Descartes’s determination. Indeed, in order to become conscious, every determination must to some extent have “passed through” the representation (Vorstellung). Nevertheless, the representation also merely concerns a special determination of the being of the I, and not its essence. For this reason Reinhold too did not advance to the true first principle.

23

Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, A 108 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), translated Paul Guyer and Allen Wood, p. 233.

92

schnell

I will finish with Spinoza’s system. Fichte’s characterization of Spinoza’s system is not entirely easy to understand. A few brief indications may be helpful in lieu of a more detailed explanation. The cornerstones of Fichte’s understanding of Spinoza are the following: Consciousness can only be spoken of, if it is interpreted empirically. There is also pure consciousness: It is identical with God, but there is no consciousness-like connection between it and empirical consciousness, the latter is merely a completely unconscious modification of the former. (Empirical) consciousness therefore always has its ground in God (never in itself), which, as already mentioned, is completely outside of it (“pure consciousness never attains to consciousness”);24 but this ground cannot be explained by reason, but is only dogmatically established and asserted. In Fichte’s eyes, Spinoza does not see that the highest unity cannot be theoretically established, but can only be produced through practical means and under the sign of the Soll.25 The “I am” conceived in this way represents a boundary within which the “critical system” remains. Spinoza’s system transcends this boundary: to be sure, in a consistent manner, and even dogmatically, which has to be rejected by critical idealism. To what extent is the first principle of the Grundlage now fundamental for Fichte’s entire Wissenschaftslehre? Of course, here we can only provide a brief outlook. What is systematically decisive, as the preceding commentary has emphasized several times, is the concept of “categorical hypotheticity”, provided that it is conceived together with the “ontological method of proof” (as I have called it). It runs through all the different versions of the Wissenschaftslehre. I will just point to a few places here. It begins with the programmatic, systematic and highly significant Begriffsschrift (On the Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre, 1794). The thought of a “categorical hypotheticity” is introduced when Fichte talks of the “systematic form” 24 25

gwl, ga i/2: 263. In their commentary on the Grundlage, Class and Soller refer in this context to the following passage from § 5: “Just as the I is posited, so reality is posited; in the I everything is to be posited; the I should be absolutely independent, but everything should be independent of it. Therefore, the agreement of the object with the I is required, and the absolute I, precisely because of its absolute being, is what demands it” (gwl, ga i/2: 396). On the basis of the Wissenschaftslehre 1804/ii, it is nevertheless clear that here there are exactly two kinds of “requirements” and “Soll” have to be distinguished: the “absolute I” in its “absolute being”, which is spoken of in § 1, becomes established through the help of the “Soll” (i.e. not categorically, but hypothetical-categorically); the necessary agreement of the NotI with the I (or the transferral of the reality of the I to the Not-I), which Fichte refers to in § 5, is for its part only possible in the light of a “sollen”. The Soll (fully consciously grasped in 1804), is immanent to the I as it were; the Soll (of the Grundlage) is transcendent to the I.

the grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre

93

of science. In paragraph §4 it is then deepened with regard to the possibility of an ultimate ground for knowledge. At a systematically significant point, this concept appears again in the Wissenschaftslehre of 1801/1802 – namely in the “B” synthesis and the “C” synthesis. In the second version of the Wissenschaftslehre of 1804, “categorical hypotheticity”, together with the ontological method of proof, reach their highest level of development. There it permeates the concept-light-being schema and Fichte’s first elaboration of his theory of image or the Bildlehre. At the heart of this most important presentation of all the different versions of the Wissenschaftslehre, it proves to be the systematic centre of Fichte’s transcendentalism. Finally, beyond the second version of the Wissenschaftslehre of 1804, the Wissenschaftslehre of 1812 should also be mentioned, in which the “categorical hypotheticality” appears again – namely in the genetisation of Schema iii.26 An exact proof and justification of this would, of course, require an even more in-depth investigation than is presently possible. The aim in this paper was to present the basic thesis, which in my view could serve as a guideline for a unified interpretation of Fichte.27 26 27

Fichtes nachgelassene Werke, Volume ii, 1834, Chapter iii, first section, pp. 369ff. This article was translated from the German by David W. Wood.

5 Difference within Identity? Fichte’s Reevaluation of the First Principle of Philosophy in § 5 of the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre Philipp Schwab

Abstract The aim of the article is to discuss a reevaluation of the first principle in §5 of Fichte’s Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre. The article makes the case that this reevaluation takes place in an attempt to resolve the key systematic issue of a transition from identity to difference, which can be traced back to the very first draft of Fichte’s system in the Own Meditations on Elementary Philosophy. Especially as Fichte, in §1 of the Foundation, conceptualizes the principle of the I as pure identical self-positing, it proves deeply questionable how any proper transition can take place from this immanent self-relation to any other element of the system. While the first sections of the Foundation do not address this issue directly, it is in §5 that Fichte truly approaches the problem. In this light, §5 of the Foundation shall be interpreted as Fichte’s quite dramatic struggle with the absolute I, and as a complex back and forth movement: On the one hand, even more clearly than in §1, Fichte repeatedly stresses that the absolute I must have the structure of absolute identity. Yet on the other hand, he thereby realizes that it is indeed impossible to construct a plausible transition from pure identity to difference, and that he thus has to modify his first principle. Ultimately, Fichte outright sacrifices the idea of a first principle of identity, and rather inserts difference into the identity principle, unfolding a much more complex structure of I-hood than before.

Keywords principle – identity – difference – transition – mediation – §5

In a letter to Reinhold dated 2 July 1795, Fichte gives a brief but remarkable summary of his recently finished Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre. Fichte starts this summary by pointing to the first foundational proposition of his philosophy – the “heart” of his “system”, expressed in the “proposition

© Philipp Schwab, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_006

difference within identity?

95

‘The I absolutely posits itself’” –, then the second foundational proposition, the “opposing” of the “not-I”, and the third foundational proposition, in terms of a “unification of the I and the not-I by means of quantity”, or of “dividing”.1 After clearly stating that “[n]o philosophy can go beyond these propositions, but from them all of philosophy […] must be developed”, Fichte writes the following: The principal question [Hauptfrage] with which the Wissenschaftslehre further occupies itself, a question which is answered only up to a point in the Theoretical Part, but which is completely answered in the Practical Part, is the following: If the I originally only posits itself, how then does it come to posit something else as well, as posited as opposed to itself? How does it happen that the I goes outside of itself [aus sich selbst herauszugehen]?2 More clearly than in other places – and most of all, more clearly than in the opening sections of the Foundation itself –, Fichte points to one, if not the key systematical issue in his entire philosophical enterprise: the problem of transition, namely, the transition from the first principle of philosophy, the selfpositing I, to anything opposed to this I, that is, to anything different from the I. Fichte himself puts this question in his preferred terms of positing, specifically, of ‘self-positing’ and ‘positing as opposed’. Yet one might very well rephrase the structural issue at stake differently, for instance, in terms of grounding, or of cognizing: If the I originally only grounds, or cognizes, itself – how then does it come to grounding, or cognizing, anything else, anything other than itself? And on the most abstract conceptual level, this problem may be put in terms of the transition from identity to difference: If the I, as the first principle of philosophy, essentially has the character of pure, immanent self-relation, and thus of identity – how then can any transition to difference be developed from this first principle? And that is to say: How can any other element of the system, and thus the system as such, be derived from its very first element? Overall, the underlying systematic issue can be unfolded as a two-sided ‘aporia of the principle’:3 On the one hand, the first principle of philosophy has to have the character of pure identity: first, in order to be in itself immediately evident, ultimately simple and unequivocal; and second, to ensure the unity and closed character of 1 ga iii/2: 344; epw: 398–399. All translations have been slightly modified. If no translation is referred to, translations are mine. – Regarding the letter quoted, cf. also Breazeale 2013: 142. 2 ga iii/2: 344–345; epw: 399. 3 On this aporia, fundamental to German Idealist debates in total, cf. in more detail Schwab 2017.

96

schwab

the system it is supposed to ground. On the other hand, however, precisely if the first principle has the character of pure, self-relating identity, it appears almost impossible to account for any difference as derived from this first principle. For simply positing difference inside the identity principle would appear to annihilate its essential character by splitting open its identity. Yet conversely, placing difference wholly outside of and beyond the identity principle makes it hard to see how this ‘external’ difference could ultimately be said to be grounded by the identity principle. It is thus indeed the most basic problem Fichte is addressing here, as it affects the entire idea of grounding a unified system as such. The most puzzling aspect of the passage, however, is where precisely in his system Fichte locates the clarification of this fundamental issue of transition. This must come as a surprise to any reader starting from Fichte’s programmatic 1794 essay Concerning the Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre, as well as the three first propositions in the 1794/95 Foundation – and this includes such prominent readers as Reinhold4 and Schelling.5 For such a reader must necessarily assume that this most basic problem should be solved in the analysis of the first three propositions themselves, precisely because they are the basic propositions. Still in the very letter to Reinhold, Fichte says that everything else in philosophy ‘must be developed from’ the three basic propositions. In the quoted passage, however, Fichte quite clearly states that this problem is only resolved in the latter parts of the Wissenschaftslehre, and, ultimately, only in the final, Practical Part. This asks for some methodological clarification, to say the least. Because what Fichte seems to be implying here amounts to a backwards explanation, or

4 Reinhold, in his so-called ‘transition’ or ‘conversion’ to Fichte’s standpoint in 1797, refers almost exclusively to the first three sections of the Foundation (for the relevant passages and discussion, cf. Bondeli 2020). 5 Schelling states as late as 1796 that he hasn’t yet even read the Practical Part of the Foundation (cf. a letter to Niethammer: aa iii/1: 40). Indeed, the very formulation Fichte is using in the letter appears to be leaning towards Schelling’s 1795 treatise Of the I as Principle of Philosophy or On the Unconditional in Human Knowledge which he mentions for the first time, and overall positively, in writing to Reinhold (cf. ga iii/2: 347; epw: 401). Here, Schelling says with regard to Kant’s principal question “How are synthetic judgements a priori possible?” that “this question in its highest abstraction is none other than: How does the absolute I come to go outside of itself [aus sich selbst herauszugehen] and to absolutely oppose to itself a not-I?” (aa i/2: 99; Schelling 1980: 81). This passage, in return, echoes a section from §3 of the Foundation in which Fichte claims to have solved the Kantian question, by means of his second and third proposition (cf. gwl, ga i/2: 275; sk: 112; cf. the similar passage in the letter ga iii/2: 345; epw: 399). Schelling himself, in his early texts, repeatedly points to the question of transition, cf. e.g. aa i/3: 83; Schelling 1980: 177: “No system can realize the transition from the infinite to the finite”. While the vocabulary of ‘going outside of itself’ does sound Schellingian, we will see later on that Fichte himself already uses it in § 5 of the Foundation.

difference within identity?

97

even a circular one: The ‘theorems’ [Lehrsätze] of the Theoretical Part and the Practical Part apparently have to be, in one way or the other, developed from the foundational propositions [Grundsätze]; yet Fichte at the same time says that only the derived, ‘lower’ propositions can ultimately explain the relation between the ‘higher’ or most basic propositions. This, however, appears to be in tension with the very idea of foundational propositions as such. Against this background, the present article aims at discussing the answer to the ‘principal question’ of philosophy as put forward in Fichte’s Practical Part of the Foundation, and namely in §5. More specifically, the essay intends to show that this section, far from simply offering a retrospective clarification, rather presents a deep reevaluation of Fichte’s idea of a first principle, compared to the earlier concept of the ‘absolute I’ from §1 of the Foundation.6 Thereby, it shall be demonstrated that this reevaluation takes place precisely in an attempt to resolve the pressing issue of transition and difference, as pointed out in the quoted letter. However, the reevaluation in question does not come about as a clean shift of perspective, nor as a plain change of mind. Rather, § 5 of the Foundation shall be interpreted as Fichte’s quite dramatic struggle with the absolute I as the first principle of philosophy. This struggle basically unfolds along the following lines: Even more clearly than in § 1, Fichte in § 5 explicitly and repeatedly emphasizes that the ‘absolute I’ must have the character of absolute identity. In a series of revealing ‘as ifs’ and ‘so-to-speaks’, Fichte again and again wrestles with explaining the transition from this first foundational proposition of identity to the second, and at the same time with closing the gap between the absolute and the finite I. Yet it is precisely his rigorous insistence on identity in §5 that pushes Fichte towards the fundamental insight that it is, at bottom, impossible to construct a plausible transition from pure identity to difference, and that he thus has to modify his first principle. In this light, ultimately, Fichte outright abandons and sacrifices the idea of a first principle of identity: In order to make the transition from identity to difference at all possible, Fichte now, in §5, inserts difference into the identity principle, unfolding a much more complex structure of I-hood than he had before. This,

6 For the interpretation of § 5 as put forward here, I am indebted to discussions with participants of a 2018 Freiburg graduate seminar on the text, and most notably with Georg Spoo. Spoo already puts forward the claim that Fichte’s § 5, in reacting to tensions in §§1–3, presents a twofold “modification” of the absolute I, taking place first as a “loss of absolute being-foritself” and second as a “loss of absolute identity” (Spoo 2016: 67–74, cf. also Spoo 2021). While I fully agree with this reading, I in the following focus foremost on the identity-difference problem, the background of the issue of transition and Fichte’s process of ‘struggling’ with the first principle in § 5.

98

schwab

however, means to dismiss the original idea that the first principle of philosophy is pure, simple and self-evident sameness. While thus, the pure identity of the I in §1 and the complex differentiated unity of the I in § 5 at bottom appear to be incompatible,7 this is by no means to be interpreted as a fallacy or even an error on Fichte’s part. Rather, in thoroughly working through the systematic challenges posed by the issue of transition and the concept of difference, Fichte is the first to fully disclose a fundamental problem that will become the driving force of both his own following presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre, and German Idealist debates in general. In order to demonstrate to which extent §5 indeed amounts to such a thorough revelation, this section obviously has to be put into perspective. A first part is therefore devoted to the background of the identity principle and the problem of transition. For remarkably, this fundamental issue comes about already on the first pages of Fichte’s very first attempt to lay ground to his own system, namely, in his 1793/94 Own Meditations on Elementary Philosophy (1.). The second part will then briefly address the well-known three first propositions of the Foundation, singling out two intertwined issues: first, the ‘problem of transition’ from the I to the not-I, and second, the related ‘problem of mediation’ between the absolute I and the finite I (2.). The final part will then directly approach the key passages in §5 and reconstruct the aforementioned process of reevaluation (3.). This interpretation will proceed, in a qualified sense, as a ‘selective reading’. That is, it will focus exclusively on the identity-difference problem and related matters, drawing on well-known practical concepts (such as striving) only insofar as they are relevant regarding this issue.

7 Of course, this question of compatibility and incompatibility hasn’t gone unnoticed by commentators. Yet while there is quite a number of interpretations available for §5 of the Foundation, very few of them deal directly and in depth with the identity-difference issue and the problem of transition, as proposed in this article. For a reading strongly arguing for an incompatibility, cf. Waibel 2000 and Spoo 2016, cf. also Girndt 1994. For a reading arguing in favor of compatibility, cf. Class/Soller 2004. For further readings of §5, focusing on topics such as the primacy of the practical, striving, the ‘check’ [Anstoß], self-consciousness, reflection, reality, and genetic method, cf. especially Henrich 1967, Janke 1970: 162–204, Baumanns 1990: 97– 107, Klotz 1995, Martin 1996, Beeler-Port 1997, Schmidt 2004: 34–42, Schäfer 2006: 199–208, Breazeale 2013: 156–170.

difference within identity?

1

99

The Background of the Identity Principle and the Problem of Transition in Fichte’s Early Writings

The identity principle has its first prominent public appearance in Fichte’s Aenesidemus Review, published February 1794.8 The respective utterance is to be found in one of the few passages in which Fichte unconditionally accepts G.E. Schulze’s critique of Reinhold’s ‘proposition of consciousness’, according to which “in consciousness, representation is distinguished through the subject from both object and subject and is referred to both”.9 Namely, Fichte here agrees with Schulze that the connecting determinations of “distinguishing and relating” in Reinhold’s proposition suffer from a certain indeterminacy.10 In tentatively pointing to the position of his own, Fichte adds: But what if it is precisely the indeterminacy and indeterminability of these concepts which point to a higher foundational proposition (which remains to be discovered) and to the material validity of the proposition of identity, and opposing? And what if the concepts of distinguishing and relating can only be determinated by means of the principle of identity, and of the opposite?11 Fichte’s reference to a higher, hitherto undiscovered foundational proposition and, specifically, to the material proposition of identity (the self-positing of the I) and of opposition (the opposing of the not-I) very well makes sense in light of his texts to be published shortly thereafter. Yet still there is a subtle but noteworthy ambiguity in the questions asked: Is Fichte indeed only referring to one proposition, or are these rather two original propositions? And put with respect to content: Does this first proposition merely consist of material identity – or does it itself already express a relation between identity and opposition? In a later passage, it is fully clear that Fichte only has one proposition in mind, and that this is the proposition solely of the I. In anticipating § 1 of the Foundation, Fichte puts forward the proposition: “The I is what it is, it is because it is, and it is for the I”.12 And he adds, unambiguously in the singular form:

8 9 10 11 12

For a recent contribution, also on the background of this text and discussions in the literature, cf. Breazeale 2016. rgs 4: 50; Reinhold 1985: 70. For the different formulations of this proposition, cf. Bondeli 1995: 56–57. AeR, gw i/4: 44; epw: 62. Ibid. AeR, gw i/4: 57; epw: 71.

100

schwab

“Our knowledge cannot go beyond this proposition [diesen Satz].”13 Yet also the ambiguous blending of singular and plural shows in further passages, e.g. when Fichte speaks of “the foundational proposition of identity and contradiction” which will be proposed “as the fundament of all philosophy”.14 This ambiguity implicitly reflects the immense difficulties in grounding a system based on only one simple principle. At the same time, it refers back to Fichte’s work right before composing the Review in which he attempts to find an answer to his ‘Aenesidemus shock’: his experimental private manuscript Own Meditations on Elementary Philosophy. In the opening passages of this work,15 Fichte makes it quite clear what is at stake in order to react to the sceptic attacks by Schulze’s Aenesidemus. Still using Reinhold’s terminology, he writes: “Can philosophy be built on one single fact, or does one have to make use of several?”16 In the main section, Fichte apparently makes the attempt to realize the first option, that is, to ground the system on one first and immediately evident principle. Without further preparation, and obviously based on prior reflections,17 he notes right away: “1.) The first proposition is that of the ‘I’. […] / 1st proposition: / ‘The I is intuitive’ ‘Intuit your I’ ‘You are conscious of your I.’ ”18 This is apparently only a first rough sketch of what will later become the first foundational proposition. Yet it is nonetheless clear that Fichte intends the first proposition to consist exclusively of the I, as he also writes: “In immediacy, everybody is only certain of his own I; for only this he can intuit.”19 In light of Fichte’s opening question, the decisive issue is then, apparently: How can the transition be made from this first concept of the I to further propositions? The respective passage on the second proposition is indeed remarkable. This, then, is the very first version of Fichte’s transition: “2nd proposition. Consequence [Folgerung]. / In order to become conscious of one’s I, one has to be able to distinguish it from something which is not-I. Thus, it has to be pos13

14 15

16 17

18 19

Ibid. (my emphasis). Cf. the similar “formula” in step 10 of §1 in the Foundation (gwl, ga i/2: 260; sk: 99). Note that while Fichte here links the motif of ultimate grounding only to the one first proposition of the I, he in other places (including the letter quoted above) uses similar formulations referring to all three fundamental propositions. AeR, gw i/4: 53; epw: 68 (my emphasis). On several of the passages discussed here, cf. Stolzenberg 1986: 11–173, cf. also Henrich 2003: 184–201. For a more detailed interpretation of the issues in this section, cf. Schwab 2020. em, ga ii/3: 26. Indeed, Fichte already in his 1793/94 Contribution to the Rectification of the Public’s Judgment of the French Revolution uses the expressions “pure form of our self” and even “pure I” (ga i/1: 241–242). em, ga ii/3: 26–27. em, ga ii/3: 28.

difference within identity?

101

sible to also become conscious of a not-I.”20 Right in its first presentation, the transition from the I to the not-I turns out highly ambiguous. On the one hand, Fichte indeed intends to derive the second element from the first, by means of a consequence. Yet on the other hand, the very way in which Fichte spells out this consequence directly inverts his primary intuition. For if one has to be able to distinguish the I from something that is not-I in order to become conscious of the I, then indeed this not-I isn’t the consequence, but conversely the necessary condition for the I. What is most remarkable in the opening sections of the Meditations, however, is that Fichte himself criticizes this first transition. In a marginal note apparently added later, he quotes the passage from the main text and then objects: “‘In order to become conscious of one’s I’ etc., this cannot be proven: – and it would also be decisively against Elementary Philosophy. The I is assumed absolutely, without any [not-]I.”21 And a second note adds: “But A can be, without not-A. – –A is not the condition of A. Because this outright contradicts the first proposition.”22 So Fichte sees very clearly that the way he had first set up the transition, he in fact inverts his original idea. And by contrast, he reinforces this idea that the I should remain the sole, unconditional and unconditioned content of the first proposition. The main text, however, draws quite the opposite conclusion. Also here, Fichte critically reflects on his transition: “But you assert that the mere representation A necessarily requires a not-A. […] How do you intend to prove that.”23 Yet other than in the marginal notes, Fichte here shows clear sympathy for this idea, stating that his “inner feeling is in favor of this”.24 And indeed the second draft of the first proposition then presents I and not-I as co-original. In the twisted reflection leading up to this second draft, Fichte notes that the “second proposition cannot be deduced [gefolgert] but has to be put forward in advance as a foundational proposition”; he then asks whether these “two propositions [should] be just one proposition” or “rather two”, but concludes that the intuitions of the “I, and that of the not-I, seem to be equally necessary”, so that the “proposition could read like this”: “We become conscious of an I, and of a not-I distinguished from, and opposed to it. – and that would be a foundational proposition which cannot be denied.”25 This sheds quite some light on the ambiguity noted regarding the Aenesidemus Review above. Appar-

20 21 22 23 24 25

Ibid. em, ga ii/3: 28n. em, ga ii/3: 29n. em, ga ii/3: 29. Ibid. em, ga ii/3: 29–30.

102

schwab

ently in the face of the impossibility of constructing a transition from the I to the not-I, Fichte merges both propositions into one, and presents what can be termed a double-proposition: a new first proposition, consisting of two equally necessary, and equally immediately certain elements. So within just a few pages, Fichte puts forward two alternative and indeed incompatible options for grounding the envisaged unified system.26 Fichte’s first intuition can be termed the deductive model. It consists in positing the I as the one and only unconditional principle, and in deriving every further proposition from this. Yet the problem with this first model is how to then in fact make the deductive transition from the I to the not-I, that is, how to derive the opposite of the I from the I. Fichte’s first attempt in doing so had failed, immediately leading him to the second model. This second option can be termed the progressive-synthetic model. It consists in starting from an original difference, that of I and not-I, and in then developing the envisaged unity by synthetically mediating this basic opposition by means of third terms. Yet Fichte sees some difficulties here, too. In starting with an original opposition, there is no immediate or unconditional unity in the grounding terms. Rather, the starting concepts of I and not-I appear to be conditioned by the mediation that is supposed to follow from them, and Fichte anticipates that he will “likely have to admit new facts of consciousness” as mediating terms.27 This first struggle in the Own Meditations amply displays the difficulty Fichte encounters in his attempt to ground the system based on one principle. One might call these passages the ‘primal scene’ of the problem of transition that will continue to haunt Fichte’s thought throughout his Jena years at least. Both models discussed here will return, and the following drafts of the Wissenschaftslehre might very well be described as a series of attempts to resolve the issue at stake – partly by combining the two indeed rather incompatible systematic models. Before tracing these issues in the Foundation itself, it is worth having a short look at the programmatic essay Fichte publishes shortly after the Aenesidemus Review, his Concerning the Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre.28 Here, Fichte seems to opt quite clearly for the first, deductive model, in stating that in “a science, there can only be One proposition that is certain and established prior to 26

27 28

From the following parts of the text, cf. esp. a passage suggesting a differentiation within the I (em, ga ii/3: 91–92) and a conclusive marginal note, apparently inserted later (em, ga ii/3: 27n). em, ga ii/3: 48. For an intermediary step, cf. Lavater’s notes to Fichte’s Zurich Lectures from Spring 1794. Also here, Fichte moves back and forth between referring to only one foundational proposition, and several first propositions. Cf. esp. zv, ga iv/3: 19, 31.

difference within identity?

103

the connection between the propositions”.29 In this light, Fichte now presents a strictly linear-deductive model: The “connection” between the propositions which constitutes the “systematic form of the whole” is said to be “established by showing that if proposition A is certain, then proposition B is certain, then proposition C etc. must be as well.”30 And it is here that Fichte, following the Aenesidemus Review, for the first time clearly establishes identity as a key criterion for the first proposition itself. In line with other criteria, Fichte says that, while “all other propositions will be certain because they can be shown to be in some respect equal to this first proposition”, this first proposition itself “has to be certain merely because it is equal to itself [sich selbst gleich].”31 Yet also in this text, there is a notable tension, and indeed the very same as observed before. In discussing the relation of form and content in the first proposition, Fichte abruptly opens up the possibility that there could also be more than just one foundational principle. These would then have to be “partially conditioned” by the “first and supreme” proposition, but also “partially absolute”, in either their form or their content, so that there could be “no more than three foundational propositions”.32 This introduction of two ‘hybrid’ foundational propositions is apparently at odds with the linear model unfolded before. But what is in the background here is, obviously and again, the pressing issue of the material transition from the I as first proposition to the opposed not-I as the second, which hardly seems to be explicable by means of the linear deductive model alone.33 In sum, the early works show that Fichte, right in the first attempts at designing his new Wissenschaftslehre, encounters the persistent problem of transition from the first proposition to the second. This problem leaves Fichte with differing options, none of them yet fully resolving the issue. Also, Fichte clearly points to identity as a key determination of the first, immediately evident and simple proposition.34 As the Foundation will now materially unfold the identity principle as the self-relating absolute I, this will indeed further aggravate the problem. 29 30 31 32 33

34

bwl, ga i/2: 115; epw: 103–104 (my emphasis). bwl, ga i/2: 115; epw: 104. bwl, ga i/2: 120–121; epw: 108. bwl, ga i/2: 122; epw: 109–110. Cf. the “Hypothetical Division” in § 8 in which Fichte does present the first three propositions, but does not at all address the transition from the first to the second (cf. bwl, ga i/2: 150; epw: 134). In the Own Mediations, Fichte draws on identity as well, but seems to be still undecided where to locate this concept, partly already tying it to the I (cf. em, ga ii/3: 29), yet mostly discussing it with respect to the relation between I and not-I (cf. em, ga ii/3: 28–32).

104 2

schwab

The Problem of Transition and Mediation in §§ 1–3 of the Foundation

In §1 of the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre, Fichte does not directly say that the I essentially is or has the character of material identity. Yet from the way he unfolds the concept of the absolute I, it is quite clear that its basic structure is and has to be that of identity, as the simplest and most immediate unity. Fichte begins his exposition by pointing to the proposition of identity in the form “A = A”,35 but of course, this by no means implies deducing the first foundational proposition from the identity proposition. Rather, conversely, Fichte aims at showing that the first proposition itself is the necessary condition for the formal identity proposition. Yet just for this reason, Fichte writes, it must be “asserted that within the I […] there is something that is constantly equal to itself [sich stets gleich], constantly one and the same [Ein und eben dasselbe]”; and this material condition of the formal identity may be expressed as “I = I; I am I.”36 Based on Fichte’s following presentation of the I, the first principle’s structure of identity can indeed be unfolded on four levels. First, and most obviously, as “the I posits itself ”,37 the I is identity of being and positing: Within the I, being and (self-)positing are immediately one and the same. Namely, there is no reflexive or synthetic connection between what could be taken to be two sides of the I, rather, both are “completely one [völlig Eins]”: as the I “posits itself, so it is; and as it is, so it posits itself.”38 This basic structure of identity as self-positing then, on a second level, points to an identity of form and content: If the essence of the I is the immediate unity of being and self-positing, then this content implies its form, that is, again, identity, in the formal sense (A = A).39 Third, Fichte unfolds the I as the identity of being and thinking, that is, of being and pure self-consciousness, as he adds that the I is “hence absolutely for the I, and necessarily. What is not for itself, is not an I.”40 The I is thus, irreducibly, as an I,

35

36 37 38 39

40

gwl, ga i/2: 255–256; sk: 93–94. For a detailed reconstruction, cf. Stolzenberg 1994 and recently Schnell 2018. Cf. also § 6 from Concerning the Concept in which Fichte experimentally already uses the formula A = A, and inserts the ‘I’ for the variable A (cf. bwl, ga i/2: 139–140; epw: 124–125). gwl, ga i/2: 257; sk: 95–96. gwl, ga i/2: 259; sk: 97. gwl, ga i/2: 259; sk: 97–98. Fichte does not fully spell this out in the Foundation, but this is obviously his answer to the demand as put forward in Concerning the Concept that, in the first foundational proposition, form and content must be one (cf. bwl, ga i/2: 121–122; epw: 109). gwl, ga i/2: 260; sk: 98 (my emphasis).

difference within identity?

105

in its being pure self-consciousness. Finally, fourth, this again implies that the I, as pure self-consciousness, is the immediate identity of subject and object. This is made explicit in a note to the second edition of the Foundation, quite precisely summarizing the basic character of the I as determined in 1794: “All of this now means in other words, by means of which I have since then expressed it: The I is necessarily identity of subject, and object: subject-object: and it is so without further mediation.”41 In sum, the I as such is pure, self-relating, and most of all immediate identity, excluding any difference.42 Thus, while one may indeed distinguish several levels of identity – identity of being and positing, of form and content, of being and thinking, of subject and object –, this differentiation can only take place in an external reflection. In the I itself, all the determinations pointed to are contained at once in its I-hood, as one and the same. In light of this clear focus on identity, the question of transition becomes even more pressing, as it appears even harder to see how identity can progress to what it itself excludes, that is, to difference. Remarkably, however, Fichte in no way at all addresses this ‘principal question’ in the opening sections of the Foundation. Overall, he now clearly opts for the model installing two hybrid foundational propositions, partly conditioned by the first, partly themselves unconditional. In doing so, Fichte places emphasis first and foremost on that side of the second proposition in which it is unconditional, resembling the co-originality thesis from the second draft of the Own Meditations. For Fichte opens §2 by saying that the second proposition cannot be in any way “proven, or deduced” for “the same reason” that the first could not.43 And in developing this proposition, according to which “a not-I is opposed [entgegengesetzt] absolutely to the I”,44 Fichte stresses that the act expressed in it is, “as to its mere form, an act possible absolutely, not subject to any condition at all, and based on no higher ground.”45 Of course, the second act is indeed partly conditioned by the first, and it is so on three levels: First, an act of op-posing apparently cannot take place without a prior act of positing. Second, the opposing is obviously 41

42 43 44 45

gwl, ga i/2: 261n; sk: 99n (second emphasis is mine). Cf. e.g. The System of Ethics in which Fichte uses the phrase “absolute identity of the subject, and the object” (sl, ga i/5: 21; se: 7). For a reading focusing on identity, cf. the seminal treatise by Henrich 1967, esp. 18–19, for discussion cf. Stolzenberg 1986: 151–155n. gwl, ga i/2: 264; sk: 102 (my emphasis). gwl, ga i/2: 266; sk: 104. gwl, ga i/2: 265; sk: 103. The latter phrase is still on the level of opposing –A to A, but nonetheless already determines the essentially unconditional character of opposing as such.

106

schwab

an act of the I. Finally, third, also the product of this act of opposing, the notI, refers back to the I, by means of the I’s negation. Yet the essence of opposing as such, the core of the second act, is by no means to be derived from the first. Thus, in Fichte’s presentation of the first elements of the system in the Foundation, there is no and can be no actual explanation of a transition from identity to difference. What Fichte himself mainly focuses on in the following is the consequence of these two original acts: Positing both I and not-I absolutely amounts to a sharp contradiction46 which then calls for a third act, the “decree of reason”, essentially mediating the two first acts: I and not-I have to “mutually limit one another”, and this is only possible if they themselves are “posited as divisible”,47 which constitutes the unconditional element in the third act. What is most important to note here is the following. Fichte explicitly says that the third act of dividing retroactively modifies the second act. So other than one might assume (and as Fichte himself had it in the Own Meditations), not the first and the second act, but rather the second and the third act show themselves to be co-original. For without opposing, no unification by means of dividing would be required, and conversely, without dividing, the mere act of opposing would lead to a disastrous contradiction.48 This retroactive modification does, however, explicitly not affect the very first act, for still in § 3, Fichte stresses that the absolute I from §1 is as such posited as “indivisible”.49 Therefore, Fichte’s third act implies a doubling of the I, and at the same time a differentiation of his foundational propositions as two-levelled: On the first level, we have the absolute I, as pure indivisible identity; whereas on the second level, we have the quantitative-differential relation between divisible I (or finite, conditioned I) and divisible not-I. Fichte further spells this out in terms of thesis, antithesis and synthesis: While on the second level, finite I and finite not-I relate to one another both as antithesis (opposition) and synthesis (unity by means of division), on the first level, the absolute I remains as “absolute thesis”, and indeed in such a way that it “is neither equated nor opposed to any other, but is just absolutely posited.”50 Viewed as a whole, two fundamental tensions can be pointed out in this constellation of three foundational propositions. First, there is, obviously, a ‘problem of transition’. Fichte cannot account for a proper passage from the identity of the first proposition to the difference as put forward in the second. 46 47 48 49 50

Cf. gwl, ga i/2: 268–269; sk: 106–107. gwl, ga i/2: 268–270; sk: 106–108. Cf. Fichte’s prominent explication in gwl, ga i/2: 270–271; sk: 108–109. Cf. gwl, ga i/2: 271; sk: 109. Cf. gwl, ga i/2: 276; sk: 113–114.

difference within identity?

107

In the absolute I’s pure self-relating identity, there doesn’t seem to be any necessity, and indeed not even a possibility for a second act of differentiation. This, however, means that Fichte’s very first idea in the Own Meditations, to ground the system as based on only one element, proves to be impossible. And this is by no means a marginal issue, as it endangers the envisaged unity of the system. Still in §3 of the Foundation, Fichte wants the absolute thesis of the I to “give strength and completeness to the whole” of the “system” which essentially “must be One”.51 But this appears highly questionable if the very second act of the system introduces an element that is not in any way derived from, but rather fully independent of the first foundational proposition. Second, and closely related, the constellation of the three first propositions displays a ‘problem of mediation’: The ‘higher’ level, the thesis of the absolute I, and the ‘lower’ level, consisting of the antithetic-synthetic relation of finite I and finite not-I, seem to drift apart quite dramatically. Indeed, the principle of the I in its pure self-relating immanence appears to deny any consistent relation to that which it, as principle, ultimately is supposed to ground. And it is precisely because Fichte intends to maintain the absolute character of the first I that both levels show to be at bottom incompatible – also this, apparently, endangering the unity of the system. Remarkably, however, Fichte does not point to any systematic difficulties in the opening passages of the Foundation. Rather, obviously satisfied with his grounding constellation, he summarizes the three first propositions in the formula “Within the I, I oppose the divisible not-I to the divisible I”, and he adds, as will be echoed in the letter to Reinhold quoted above: “No philosophy goes beyond this insight, but any thorough philosophy must go back to this; and in doing so, it becomes Wissenschaftslehre (Science of Knowledge). Anything that from now on is supposed to emerge in the system of the human mind has to be derived from what has been established here.”52 Fichte does indeed also summarize the complex relation of opposition and unity in the whole of consciousness, but he does not address any tensions here either, in stating: “And thus all oppositions are then united, without detriment to the unity of consciousness”.53 Yet Fichte will later on return to this constellation once again, and indeed himself sharply point out the deep tensions involved here – namely, in § 5 of the Foundation.

51 52 53

gwl, ga i/2: 276; sk: 113. gwl, ga i/2: 272; sk: 110. gwl, ga i/2: 271; sk: 109.

108 3

schwab

The Integration of Difference into Identity in § 5 of the Foundation

While §4 of the Foundation develops the basic categories of theoretical knowledge, accordingly, §5 now sets out to unfold the basic determinations of the practical. Yet the way Fichte approaches the “main antithesis”54 in the realm of the practical significantly turns back to the basic propositions of the first sections.55 It is here that Fichte truly tackles the problem that had troubled him since the Own Meditations, and indeed this section of the Foundation marks both a culmination point and a turning point in Fichte’s reflections on the issue of transition and the problem of identity and difference. Already Fichte’s first re-exposition of his basic concepts marks a sharp contrast to the opening sections of the Foundation, especially to the harmonious picture presented as summary in §3. For Fichte now himself points to a fundamental problem endangering the unity of consciousness (and thus of the system of knowledge), namely, a thorough “contradiction” between “the absolute I” and what he calls “the intelligent I”.56 The latter is the basic concept of the Theoretical Part, but nonetheless, the contradiction itself clearly points back to the relation between absolute and finite I from the opening sections. Accordingly, the contradiction has its pivotal point in the respective relation of the I to the not-I: While the absolute I is presented as wholly independent “in virtue of its being-positing by itself (§1)”, the intelligent I is said to be essentially “dependent on [the] not-I”, for “only through and by means of such a not-I it is intelligence.”57 So Fichte first addresses the doubling of the I and thus, put in the terms established in this essay, he starts with the problem of mediation. What is most remarkable about this passage, however, is the way in which Fichte involves the concept of identity here. Right in the opening line, Fichte presents the I as “absolutely one and the same I”, and at the end of the passage, he explicitly uses the term ‘identity’ in stating that the inequality between “the absolute I and the intelligent I (if we may put it as though they were two Is, though they shall only be one) […] contradicts the absolute identity of the I.”58 Thus, right from the beginning of §5, Fichte now outright makes ‘absolute identity’ the standard for the success of his entire philosophical enterprise as such: The contradiction between absolute and intelligent I has to be resolved due to 54 55

56 57 58

gwl, ga i/2: 386; sk: 219. Waibel makes the plausible case that Fichte is here also reacting to critical comments he had received since he started the lectures in spring 1794, especially from Niethammer and, possibly, Hölderlin. Cf. Waibel 2000: 49–52. gwl, ga i/2: 387; sk: 220. gwl, ga i/2: 386–387; sk: 219–220. Ibid.

difference within identity?

109

the absolute I’s essential identity. And this is apparently so because the identity of the I is taken to be that element which at bottom constitutes the unity of the entire system. As is well known, Fichte presents his solution to this basic contradiction in two steps. The first, apagogical proof is an indirect method presenting a possible solution, and the key term involved here is the famous concept of striving.59 Greatly simplified, but sufficient for the current purpose, this solution runs along the following lines: As the opposition between absolute and intelligent I is due to latter’s being causally determined by the not-I, this contradiction can only be resolved if the I (in its absolute character) in return determines the not-I. Yet at the same time, the not-I cannot be wholly annihilated by the I, as otherwise, this would take back the second original act, and the not-I would then cease to be opposed to the I.60 Thus, the solution consists in a dynamic process in which the absolute I infinitely defers the not-I, as it were, and minimizes its influence – an infinite approximation to resolving the contradiction, without yet ever wholly closing the gap between absolute I and finite I. What is most important in the present context is that Fichte, already in this first proof, repeatedly returns to the concept of identity.61 And he does so in a peculiar way: Again and again, he places emphasis on the idea that the absolute I must indeed have the basic structure of identity, yet he at the same time tentatively alters this very concept – and then in return, he comments on this alteration and tends to take it back. Thereby, this characteristic struggle involves repeated remarks in brackets, qualifying what has just been said as inappropriate. The most significant passage in this respect from the first proof also for the first time clearly points to the concept of difference: The absolute I is absolutely identical with itself: everything in it is one and the same I, and belongs (if we may express ourselves thus improperly [uneigentlich]) to one and the same I; nothing in it is distinguishable, nothing manifold; the I is everything, and is nothing, since it is nothing for itself, and cannot distinguish positing and posited within itself. – In virtue of its nature it strives (which again can only be said improperly in regard to a future determination) to maintain itself in this condition. – In it, there occurs an inequality, and hence something alien. (That this hap59

60 61

Cf. especially the introduction of this term in gwl, ga i/2: 397–399; sk: 231–233. For more detailed reconstructions and discussion, cf. especially Martin 1996, Waibel 2000: 55–59, Schäfer 2006: 192–199. Cf. especially gwl, ga i/2: 391; sk: 225. Besides the passage quoted below, cf. also gwl, ga i/2: 391, 400, 404; sk: 225, 234, 239.

110

schwab

pens, can in no sense be proven a priori, but everyone can confirm it only in his own experience. Moreover, we cannot say anything further at all of this alien element, save that it is not derivable from the inner nature of the I, for in that case it would not at all be anything distinguishable.)62 While Fichte starts by once again highlighting the identity character of the I, already the first qualification in brackets tacitly refers to a differentiation: For if there were elements that would ‘belong to’ the I, this presupposes at least a latent multiplicity within the I, but differentiated from the I itself – which would, however, contradict the I’s strict identity, as Fichte’s remark clearly displays. The following passage then directly refers to difference, and here, Fichte indeed makes a remarkable modification: For the first time, the absence of difference in the identical I is addressed as a proper lack. The I cannot make a difference within itself, and most of all, it cannot differentiate between its aspects of positing (subjective side) and of being-posited (objective side). Fichte spells this out in such a way that the I, by being everything, is nothing – that is, nothing specific and distinguishable. While already in § 3, Fichte had indeed said that the I from §1 itself is “not something”,63 he hadn’t qualified this as a lack. Yet now, the basic character of the I becomes questionable, as Fichte even says that the I is ‘nothing for itself’. By contrast, the conclusion to § 1 had noted that I am “absolutely what I am”, and namely “for the I”.64 In § 5, however, ‘being for itself’ apparently means being something, and thus being distinguishable. In this light, the passage indeed tends to invert the prior line of argumentation even in §5. While Fichte had, at the outset, put forward the demand that the intelligent I must become equal to the identical and absolute I, he now appears to ask for the absolute I itself to become a differentiated I, that is, an I that is not solely identity. This tendency to reevaluate the I is also apparent from the passage following the first dash. Here, Fichte translates the identity character of the I into a specific form of striving, namely, of striving to maintain its identity. Yet again, Fichte qualifies this language as inappropriate at this point of the discourse and thus takes it back. Indeed, striving presupposes some sort of difference, of a being-in-between, as the main concept of striving between intelligent and absolute I amply displays. And at the same time, a striving to maintain the identity condition implies that this condition is in one way or the other endangered. Both, however, could hardly be said about the absolute I as presented in § 1 62 63 64

gwl, ga i/2: 399–400; sk: 233. gwl, ga i/2: 271; sk: 109. gwl, ga i/2: 260; sk: 99.

difference within identity?

111

(and also in the beginning of §5), that is, as pure self-positing. Finally, also the passage after the second dash relates to difference, as Fichte refers to an alien element which occurs in the I. And once more, he qualifies this language at least to a certain degree as problematic: For an alien element, only characterized by not being derivable from the I, apparently again contradicts the idea that everything in the I must ‘belong’ to the I and its identity. Remarkably, Fichte here explicitly points to a limit of a priori deduction, and rather involves an element of facticity based on experience to account for this alien element. Overall, this first key passage already clearly displays Fichte’s dilemma: On the one hand, the I is and must be identity – yet on the other hand, there also must be a difference. This apparent tension notwithstanding, Fichte in the final passage of the apagogical proof presents a summary resembling the one from §3, in saying that all “contradictions” within the I have been “resolved” by means of the concept of striving.65 Yet in §5, Fichte tackles the basic problem so rigorously that he himself doesn’t appear fully satisfied with this solution yet. Thus, he engages in a second pathway, thereby changing the method from apagogical to what he calls a genetic demonstration: It isn’t sufficient to show that the “higher principles” of philosophy “would be contradicted” without the mediating concept of striving; rather, the concept of striving “must be able to actually be deduced from these higher principles”.66 And Fichte also puts this demand in the terms he will later use in the letter to Reinhold: “It must be possible to point to a reason for the going outside of itself [des Herausgehens aus sich selbst] of the I, by means of which an object first becomes possible.”67 Thus, Fichte now indeed revives what had been his very first idea in the Own Meditations: the strictly deductive model, according to which everything in the system of knowledge has to be deduced solely from the one and only first principle. In the terminology established above in this essay, this change of method, thus, implies a shift from the problem of mediation to the more basic problem of transition – the transition from the identical I to difference. It is in this second proof that the peculiar tension between emphasizing and at the same time undermining the identity character of the I culminates. The following key passage then marks the dramatic climax of Fichte’s reflections on transition, identity and difference, in §5, and actually since he had first encountered these issues in the first pages of the Own Meditations. What is to be observed in this passage is the final rise, but then also the fall and dissolution of the absolute I as identity: 65 66 67

gwl, ga i/2: 404; sk: 238. gwl, ga i/2: 404; sk: 239. On this change of method, cf. Beeler-Port 1997. gwl, ga i/2: 404–405; sk: 239.

112

schwab

It is perfectly clear that, insofar as it posits itself absolutely, insofar as it is as it posits itself, and posits itself as it is, the I must be absolutely equal [gleich] to itself, and that to that extent nothing in any way different can occur therein; and from this it certainly follows at once that if something different should occur therein, this will have to be posited by a not-I. But if the not-I is to be able to posit anything at all in the I, then the condition for the possibility of such an alien influence must be grounded in the I as such, in the absolute I, beforehand, prior to any actual influence from without; the I must originally, and absolutely posit in itself the possibility of something exerting an influence upon it; it must, without detriment to its absolute positing by itself, leave itself open, as it were, to some other positing. Hence, there must already be a difference originally in the I as such, if ever a difference is to enter the I; and indeed this difference would have had to be grounded in the absolute I, as such. – The apparent contradiction of this assumption will resolve itself in due course, and its unthinkability will disappear.68 In an aggravated fashion, the passage displays the typical back and forth double-movement of Fichte’s struggle with the absolute I in § 5. First, Fichte again and most strongly emphasizes the identity character of the I, pointing back to the strict identity of being and positing in § 1. Should it appear necessary to prove the claim that Fichte indeed thinks of the I as pure identity excluding difference in the first place, this proof is to be found here in § 5, right before Fichte will dissolve the I’s identity. According to this first concept of the I, then, any element of difference, as it cannot be derived from the identical I itself, must be posited by the not-I from without. But what follows, second, is the countermove: Fichte sees clearly that this alien element can at the same time not be inserted into the I externally without the I in itself at least being open for or allowing for such an influence. But this again means that there is no solution than to, in one way or the other, indeed posit some sort of difference already in the absolute I itself – although the absolute I should actually be strictly identical. In short: If there is no difference in the absolute I itself, it will in no way whatsoever be possible to relate the absolute I, as the principle of philosophy, to any difference at all. This idea, then, is the bottom line of the reevaluation taking place in §5. The solution Fichte presents for inserting identity into difference consists, in short, in reformulating the I itself as a double-movement. Fichte starts by

68

gwl, ga i/2: 405; sk: 239–240.

difference within identity?

113

again translating the self-positing of the I, as he terms it, first, the I’s “selfreverting” activity, and then, in a second step borrowing from natural sciences, its “purely centripetal” movement.69 Fichte then plausibly states that, as direction is a “reciprocal concept”, we can “ascribe a direction, and a centripetal direction, to the absolute activity of the I, only in the tacit presupposition that we shall also discover a second, centrifugal direction of this activity.”70 This centripetal-centrifugal duality, then, outlines the I’s double-movement. And in the geometrical metaphor Fichte additionally involves here, the I figuratively corresponds to a “line”,71 as a line, too, necessarily implies two directions. Yet the question remains as to whether this bidirectional vocabulary indeed adequately represents the self-positing of the I. Remarkably, it is the very geometrical imagery Fichte is using that leads him to his final qualification which, for the last time, harkens back to the identity character of the I, even after it has already been split open. As if criticizing his own terminology and reflections, Fichte writes: On the strictest interpretation, the picture of the I, in our present mode of envisaging it, is that of a self-constituting mathematical point, in which no direction or anything else whatsoever can be distinguished; which is wholly where it is, and whose content and limit (content and form) are one and the same.72 This remark reveals that Fichte indeed considers the terminology he himself had invoked in dissolving the I’s identity questionable: On the ‘strictest interpretation’, the I is in geometrical metaphors precisely not to be presented as a bidirectional line, but rather, as a non-directional point – that is, obviously, as pure identity, in which neither direction nor anything else can be distinguished: an identity without difference. Yet while Fichte sees the problem clearly, he then attempts to refute the objection he had himself raised. Thereby, he indeed goes so far as to state that the I, if it contained “nothing other than this constitutive activity alone” would be “what every body is for us”.73 Yet this is a daring thing to say. Fichte’s own following remarks, according to which in “phi-

69

70 71 72 73

gwl, ga i/2: 406; sk: 240. On Fichte’s references to natural sciences in these passages, cf. Class/Soller 2004: 394–397. Cf. also an earlier passage using the term “self-reverting”, gwl, ga i/2: 392–393; sk: 226. For a critical discussion of this translation, cf. Waibel 2000: 61–62. gwl, ga i/2: 406; sk: 241. gwl, ga i/2: 406; sk: 240. gwl, ga i/2: 406; sk: 241. On this passage, cf. also Waibel 2000: 62–63. gwl, ga i/2: 406; sk: 241.

114

schwab

losophiz[ing] transcendentally, and not transcendently”, we assume that the self-constitutive force in the body is “posited by us”, and not “by and for the body itself ”,74 clearly show that ultimately, self-positing is the exclusive character of the I, and not of any body – just as §1 had it. Yet the main idea Fichte is driving towards in these passages is what indeed amounts to a quite drastic modification compared to §1, as has also been discussed in the literature:75 Fichte now says clearly that the self-positing of the I as such doesn’t yet constitute its ‘being for itself’, which he had, however, explicitly ascribed to the absolute I in § 1. Yet now, consciousness and being for oneself refer to a second, additional act, building on self-positing, and are thereby exclusively connected to reflection. For Fichte now says that the I, “as surely as it is a I” must “contain unconditionally and without any ground the principle of reflecting upon itself”.76 This, then, leads Fichte to the famous concept of a double positing: On a first level, the I posits itself, and on a second level, the I, in reflection, posits itself as posited by itself, and thus opens up the possibility for an external influence.77 In terms of identity and difference, the question remains how precisely Fichte claims to have indeed resolved the contradiction between the concept of the I as pure identity and the concept of the I as identity containing difference. The clearest passage in this respect still relates to centripetal and centrifugal force: “Hence, the centripetal and centrifugal directions of activity are both in like fashion grounded in the essence of the I; both are one and the same, and are distinguished merely inasmuch as there is reflection upon them as distinct.”78 Yet the decisive issue here is what ‘one and the same’ means exactly. Indeed, Fichte uses this expression in at least two distinguishable ways. For the first time, in §1 and as quoted above, Fichte uses the term in referring to the pure identity of being and positing in the original absolute I. In this case, however, this means that being and positing are absolutely the same: The I’s being is and fully equals its positing. In §3, however, Fichte uses the very same expression in a subtly but substantially different way, in saying that the second act of opposing and the third act of positing as divisible “occur immediately alongside” one another, are co-original and thus “both one, and the same, and are distinguished only in reflection.”79 This, however, doesn’t mean that these two acts are in their essence one and the same, or identical. Obviously, opposing

74 75 76 77 78 79

Ibid. Cf. Girndt 1997: 326–328, Waibel 2000: 63–67, Spoo 2016: 69–71. gwl, ga i/2: 406–407; sk: 241. Cf. especially gwl, ga i/2: 408–409; sk: 243–244. gwl, ga i/2: 407; sk: 241–242. gwl, ga i/2: 270; sk: 108.

115

difference within identity?

doesn’t simply equal positing as divided, and vice versa. Indeed, Fichte’s remark in §5 concerning centripetal and centrifugal direction appears to be closer to the latter use from §3. Also these two, centripetal and centrifugal movement, are, as opposite directions, not in every respect simply one and the same. One can very well say that they necessarily relate to one another and thus constitute an irreducible unity – but one can hardly say that they are identical in the strict sense that applies to being and self-positing in § 1. Thus, it indeed appears that Fichte’s presentation of a complex unity of two directions or two acts of positing within the absolute I itself takes place at the expense of the absolute I’s identity. This identity is not conserved, and most of all not maintained as the very basic character of the I, but indeed rather dissolved. And Fichte himself makes this clear when discussing the double positing of the I, as he says: “Thus the I, as I, is originally in the state of reciprocity [Wechselwirkung] with itself”.80 This complex structure, then, is now the basic character of the absolute I – and not that pure identity Fichte had ascribed to it both in § 1 and in earlier passages of §5.

∵ It should have become clear through the course of this essay which issues lead Fichte to struggling with and ultimately dissolving the principle of the I as pure identity in §5 of the Foundation. In rigorously tackling first the problem of mediation and then the problem of transition, Fichte is confronted with the difficulties that had been troubling his systematic concept since the Own Meditations, and that became more pressing with the clear focus on the I’s identity structure in the Foundation. While thus the systematic background of Fichte’s reevaluation of the first principle is apparent, the solution he puts forward in § 5 can be viewed as at least ambiguous. On the one hand, the more complex structure of the I as double-movement clearly has the advantage of making the transition from the absolute I to the not-I, and at the same time the mediation between absolute and finite I, more plausible than this appears regarding the closed-off identity-I. And the dissolution of one first simple principle that goes along with the internal differentiation of identity certainly opens up new paths, for Fichte himself, but also for Schelling and Hegel who will both follow Fichte’s § 5 in engaging with more complex identity structures.81 Yet on the other hand,

80 81

gwl, ga i/2: 409; sk: 244. On the further developments of the identity-difference issue in Idealist debates, cf. Schwab 2017 and Schwab 2018.

116

schwab

the new presentation of the I in §5 has its inner difficulties, too, partly resembling those from the second draft in the Own Meditations. First, as Fichte now doesn’t set out any longer to ground his system as based on an ultimately simple unity, this reevaluation is at the expense of an in itself immediately evident starting point. Second, it is by no means fully transparent from the outset how the two opposing directions or differing acts of positing within the I can at the same time be both one, and different. Even if one were to argue that the more complex presentation from §5 doesn’t simply contradict, but rather incorporates the earlier version from §1,82 there is still notable tension. For obviously, the identical and original self-positing I in its “closed off”83 character isn’t in every respect one and the same with the reflexive I ‘positing as positing’ in the second potency. Thus, the complex relations within the I seem to ask for further mediation. In any case, it should be clear that the idea of the I Fichte ultimately presents in §5 does not simply equal that which the concluding footnote to § 1 had pointed to: the idea of an I “as necessarily identity of subject, and object: subject-object”, and this namely, “without further mediation.”84 As far as Fichte himself is concerned, the later Jena texts on the Wissenschaftslehre overall follow the reevaluation as put forward in § 5. To give just one example: In the First Introduction, based on the Nova methodo manuscripts, Fichte now clearly states that the I is “synthetic”, thus no longer a mere thesis as § 1 of the Foundation had it.85 There is, says Fichte here, “a double series” within the “intelligence”, a series of “being, and of observing, and of the real, and the ideal, and it is precisely in the inseparability of this doubling that its essence consists”.86 This, however, does not mean that Fichte simply ceases thinking through the challenges posed by the relation between identity and difference, and the problem of transition. In the Nova methodo itself, Fichte repeats the question from the letter to Reinhold quoted at the outset of this essay and even puts this question’s challenge in more general terms: “Our question could also be phrased as follows: How does the I come to go outside of itself? This question actually constitutes the distinctive character of the Wissenschaftslehre (Science of Knowledge).”87

82 83 84 85 86 87

Cf. Class/Soller 2004: 399–401. gwl, ga i/2: 409; sk: 243. gwl, ga i/2: 261n; sk: 99n. VnD, ga i/4: 196; iw: 21 (my emphasis). Ibid. WLnm, ga iv/3: 385; nm: 189.

difference within identity?

117

Bibliography Baumanns, Peter 1990: J.G. Fichte. Kritische Gesamtdarstellung seiner Philosophie. Freiburg/München. Beeler-Port, Josef 1997: “Zum Stellenwert der Grundlage aus Sicht von 1804. Eine Interpretation des Wechsels von analytisch-synthetischer und genetischer Methode in §5 der Grundlage.” In: Fichte-Studien 10, 335–350. Bondeli, Martin 1995: Das Anfangsproblem bei Karl Leonhard Reinhold. Eine systematische und entwicklungsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zur Philosophie Reinholds in der Zeit von 1789 bis 1803. Frankfurt a.M. Bondeli, Martin 2020: “Reinhold’s Transition to Fichte.” In: Bondeli, M./Imhof, S. (ed.): Reinhold and Fichte in Confrontation. A Tale of Mutual Appreciation and Criticism. Berlin/Boston, 123–150. Breazeale, Daniel 2013: Thinking through the Wissenschaftslehre. Themes from Fichte’s Early Philosophy. Oxford. Breazeale, Daniel 2016: “Reinhold / Schulze / Fichte: A Re-Examination.” In: Bondeli, M./Chotaš, J./Vieweg, K. (ed.): Krankheit des Zeitalters oder heilsame Provokation? Skeptizismus in der nachkantischen Philosophie. Paderborn, 151–179. Class, Wolfgang/Soller, Alois K. 2004: Kommentar zu Fichtes “Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre”. Amsterdam/New York. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: Early Philosophical Writings. Trans. and ed. by D. Breazeale. Ithaca 1988 (= epw). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: Foundations of the Entire Science of Knowledge. Trans. by P. Heath. In: Heath, P./Lachs, J. (ed.): Fichte: Science of Knowledge (Wissenschaftslehre). 2nd Ed. Cambridge 1982 (= sk). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: Foundations of Transcendental Philosophy. (Wissenschaftslehre) Nova Methodo (1796/1799). Trans. and ed. by D. Breazeale. Ithaca 1992 (= nm). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: Introductions to the Wissenschaftslehre and Other Writings (1797–1800). Trans. and ed. by D. Breazeale. Indianapolis 1994 (= iw). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: The System of Ethics in Accordance with the Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre. Trans. and ed. by D. Breazeale and G. Zöller. Cambridge 2005 (= se). Girndt, Helmut 1997: “Das ‘Ich’ des ersten Grundsatzes der Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre in der Sicht der Wissenschaftslehre von 18042.” In: Fichte-Studien 10, 319–333. Henrich, Dieter 1967: Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht. Frankfurt a.M. Henrich, Dieter 2003: Between Kant and Hegel. Lectures on German Idealism, ed. by David S. Pacini. Cambridge, MA. Janke, Wolfgang 1970: Fichte. Sein und Reflexion – Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft. Berlin.

118

schwab

Klotz, Christian 1995: “Reines Selbstbewußtsein und Reflexion in Fichtes Grundlegung der Wissenschaftslehre (1794–1800).” In: Fichte-Studien 7, 27–48. Martin, Wayne M. 1996: “‘Without a Striving, No Object is Possible’: Fichte’s Striving Doctrine and the Primacy of Practice.” In: Breazeale, D./Rockmore, T. (ed.): New Perspectives on Fichte. New Jersey, 19–34. Reinhold, Karl Leonhard 1985: “The Foundation of Philosophical Knowledge”, trans. by George di Giovanni. In: Between Kant and Hegel: Texts in the Development of PostKantian Idealism. Ed. by George di Giovanni and H.S. Harris. Albany, 52–106. Schäfer, Rainer 2006: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes “Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre von 1794”. Darmstadt. Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph: The Unconditional in Human Knowledge. Four Early Essays (1794–1796). Transl. by F. Marty. Lewisburg/London 1980. Schmidt, Andreas 2004: Der Grund des Wissens. Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre in den Versionen von 1794/95, 1804/ii und 1812. Paderborn. Schnell, Alexander 2018: “Die Funktion der ‘kategorischen Hypothetizität’ im ersten Grundsatz der ‘Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre’.” In: Traub, H./ Schnell, A./Asmuth, C. (ed.): Fichte im Streit. Festschrift für Wolfgang Janke. Würzburg, 23–37. Schwab, Philipp 2017: “A = A. Zur identitätslogischen Systemgrundlegung bei Fichte, Schelling und Hegel.” In: International Yearbook of German Idealism 12, 261–289. Schwab, Philipp 2018: “Vom Prinzip zum Indefiniblen. Schellings Systembegriff der Weltalter und der Erlanger Vorlesung im Lichte der Auseinandersetzung mit Hegel.” In: Danz, C./Stolzenberg, J./Waibel, V. (ed.): Systemkonzeptionen im Horizont des Theismusstreites (1811–1821). Hamburg, 199–123. Schwab, Philipp 2020: “‘Gehe der Unbedingtheit des Ich nach …’. Fichtes erste Auseinandersetzung mit Reinhold und die Entwicklung des Grundsatz-Gefüges in den Eignen Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie.” In: Bondeli, M./Imhof, S. (ed.): Reinhold and Fichte in Confrontation. A Tale of Mutual Appreciation and Criticism. Berlin/Boston, 49–93. Spoo, Georg 2016: Der Bruch im System. Exposition und Modifikation des ‘absoluten Ich’ in der Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (1794/95). m.a. thesis. Spoo, Georg 2021: “Self and Self-Objectification. The Transformation of Self-Consciousness in Fichte’s Foundations of the Entire Science of Knowledge.” (forthcoming) Stolzenberg, Jürgen 1986: Fichtes Begriff der intellektuellen Anschauung. Die Entwicklung in den Wissenschaftslehren von 1793/94 bis 1801/02. Stuttgart. Stolzenberg, Jürgen 1994: “Fichtes Satz ‘Ich bin’. Argumentanalytische Überlegungen zu Paragraph 1 der Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre von 1794/95.” In: FichteStudien 6, 1–34. Waibel, Violetta L. 2000: Hölderlin und Fichte. 1794–1800. Paderborn u.a.

6 “The Subsequent Delivery of the Deduction” – Fichte’s Transformation of Kant’s Deduction of the Categories Gesa Wellmann

Abstract In the wake of the massive criticism of Kant’s deduction of the categories in the first Critique, Fichte starts providing what he takes an improved version of such a deduction to be. This article aims at investigating the transformation he thereby introduces into the Kantian thought. I will do so mainly with respect to the deduction’s architectonical dimension, i.e. by investigating the role of the deduction for the Wissenschaftslehre as a whole. Concretely, I will defend the following theses: (1) By identifying the deduction of the categories and the metaphysical system, Fichte moves away both from Kant’s conception of a system and from that of a deduction. (2) It is the unique character of Fichte’s conception of a first principle of a system that allows for an identification between system and deduction.

Keywords Kant – Fichte – deduction of the categories – first principle – metaphysical system

1

Introduction

Shortly after the publication of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, the work had been attacked by numerous critics who suggested that many of the questions it promised to answer remained unresolved. Crucial parts of this criticism focused on the chapter of the Analytic of Concepts and on the arguments Kant had presented in his so-called metaphysical and transcendental deduction of the categories.1 For the most parts, these attacks concern the question how

1 For a detailed discussion of the criticism of Kant’s deduction of the categories, see Beiser

© Gesa Wellmann, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_007

120

wellmann

one arrives at Kant’s table of judgment – on which the table of the categories relies – and how one proves that the categories are indeed only valid if applied to objects of experience. About a decade later, Fichte starts providing his own version of such deductions that is supposed to shield the project of transcendental philosophy in general and to answer the problems of Kant’s discussion of the categories in particular. He does so by means of a special strategy that aims at accomplishing both the task of the metaphysical deduction and the transcendental deduction in a single deduction. Fichte develops the latter for the most part in the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (1794/1795), the Wissenschaftslehre (1812) and his lectures on transcendental logic (1812). In the Outline of the Distinctive Character of the Wissenschaftslehre (1795), he summarizes the advantages of his deduction as follows: In the Wissenschaftslehre, the [categories] arise simultaneously with the objects and in order to make the latter possible at all.2 Compared to the extensive discussion of Kant’s table of the categories, Fichte’s project of unifying the tasks of the metaphysical and transcendental deduction has received relatively little attention. Yet, it has been addressed in research on the project of Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre in more general terms. Zöller (2000) and Asmuth (2009) for example point to the transformation Fichte’s deduction implies with regard to the role of logic in general and the concept of a category in particular: Instead of being a concept of the understanding, Fichte develops the categories as laws of reason.3 This transformation, both authors argue, illustrates the shift Fichte introduces into the role logic plays in metaphysics. Apart from such general studies, some chapters and articles deal with more detailed examinations of Fichte’s argument to merge metaphysical and transcendental deduction, such as the early studies by Trendelenburg (1846) and Ripke (1913), and, more recently, the investigations by Janke (1970), Baumanns (1974) and

(1978:186 ff.); Sassen (2000). Among these early criticisms are Tittel’s Kantische Denkformen oder Kategorien (1787) and Hamann’s Metacritique on the Purism of Reason (1800); see also Reinhold’s Rectifications i (1790), 315–316. 2 Outline, sw i:387. Fichte is cited from the nineteenth-century edition of his works edited by his son and abbreviated as sw. Where a text is not available in this edition, I will refer to the historical-critical edition of the Bavarian Academy of Sciences, customarily abbreviated as ga. Since I will not discuss the power of imagination, I shortened the quote. However, the latter is of utmost importance for Fichte’s theory of faculties. 3 Cf. Outline, sw i:387.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

121

Bertinetto (2009). Furthermore, Acosta (2011), Vogel (2007), and Kwon (2007) provide reconstructions of the deduction of single categories, such as the category of reciprocity. The present article aims at contributing to the undertaking to elucidate Fichte’s deduction of the categories against the background of Kant’s Critique. Diverging from the research so far, however, my objective is to investigate the transformation Fichte introduces in terms of its architectonical dimension. Concretely, I will examine an aspect of Fichte’s unified deduction that so far has gone unnoticed: Whereas for Kant, both deductions of the categories occupy a specific space in the Critique of Pure Reason, namely the transcendental analytic, for Fichte, the deduction of the categories is to be equated with a much broader project. In fact, Fichte states in his late Wissenschaftslehre of 1812 that the Wissenschaftslehre is “nothing else than the subsequent delivery of the deduction [of the categories] that Kant did not succeed in providing”.4 In light of this statement, this article tries to situate Fichte’s deduction of the categories in the context of his project of a Wissenschaftslehre as a whole. Concretely, I will defend the following theses: (1) By identifying the deduction of the categories and the metaphysical system, Fichte moves away both from Kant’s conception of a system and from that of a deduction. (2) It is the unique character of Fichte’s conception of a first principle of a system that allows for an identification between system and deduction. I will argue for these theses in three steps. First, I will outline the relation between the deduction of the categories and a metaphysical system both in Kant and in Fichte. I argue that – in contrast to Kant – the criteria for success Fichte establishes for his deduction equal those that he establishes for correctly achieving a metaphysical system. Section two demonstrates how Fichte’s first principle qua Tathandlung allows him to establish precisely those criteria that section one pointed out as guaranteeing a proper deduction. In a third section, I will exemplify the correlation between principle, system and deduction in a concrete case: A brief reconstruction of the deduction of the category of reality in the Foundation will illustrate the transformation Fichte inaugurates by identifying the deduction of the categories and the metaphysical system.

4 ga ii/13, 103. I take “Wissenschaftslehre” in this quote to refer to the project of a Wissenschaftslehre as a whole of which the various versions Fichte provides are different expressions.

122 2

wellmann

“The Subsequent Delivery of the Deduction that Kant Did Not Succeed in Providing” – Where to Place the Deduction within the System of Metaphysics?

Determining the continuity of the Wissenschaftslehre keeps generating one of the most vibrant controversies among Fichte scholars – starting with the question how Fichte’s later works relate to the Jena writings up to the problem which works represent which part of the Wissenschaftslehre.5 As difficult as it may be to determine the exact arrangement of the Wissenschaftslehre itself, it is clear that for both for the ‘early’ and the ‘late’ Fichte the deduction of the categories form part of what he describes as a new and proper philosophical system.6 Likewise, it is clear that for Kant, his discussion of the categories’ deduction plays a decisive role in his conception of a metaphysical system. In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant describes the categories as a “guiding thread” to a future metaphysical system, praising the table as “uncommonly useful, indeed indispensable in the theoretical part of philosophy for completely outlining the plan for the whole of a science insofar as it rests on a priori concepts, and dividing it mathematically in accordance with determinate principles”.7 Given the interrelation between deduction of the categories and metaphysical system that both thinkers defend, I will discuss the differences Kant and Fichte develop in this regard, starting by briefly recalling Kant’s conception of the deduction of the categories and their function within the project of a metaphysical system. Kant develops his investigation into the categories in two stages that correspond to two deductions. First, he shows in his so-called metaphysical deduction that the twelve categories are the pure concepts of the understanding. This proof takes place against the background of the first Critique’s overall examination of the sources that produce a priori cognition. Given that the Critique of Pure Reason is, on Kant’s view, an exhaustive self-reflection of reason, it provides a complete set of reason’s elements: “Nothing here can escape us, because

5 Wundt (1929) offers one of the earliest discussions of this topic, Girndt (1997:321) a more recent one. It should be noted that only two complete presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre (the Foundation (1794/95) and the Wissenschaftslehre in its General Outline (1810)) were published during Fichte’s lifetime. An informative summary of the different versions is provided by Breazeale (2000:173, 174). 6 Cf. Second Introduction, sw i:478 and Wissenschaftslehre 1812, ga ii/13, 103. 7 cpr, B109. See for a similar statement in the Prolegomena: 4:338–339. For a discussion of the role of categories in the system of pure reason, see: Baum (2001:35) and Lorenz (1986:196). As Kant implies in a letter to Jakob (September 11, 1787 (10:494–495)), the future system, and in particular a reformed ontology, would take the results of both the metaphysical and the transcendental deduction into account.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

123

what reason brings forth entirely out of itself cannot be hidden, but is brought to light by reason itself as soon as reason’s common principles have been discovered”.8 Kant distinguishes in this regard the pure intuitions of space and time as forms of external and internal sense respectively, the twelve categories as concepts of an object in general (obtained from the twelve logical functions by means of which the understanding – as the faculty of judging – thinks an object) and the three transcendental ideas of soul, world and God as representations of the unconditioned on the basis of the three logical functions of reason (in its strict sense as a faculty of syllogisms). Secondly, Kant tries to justify the objective validity of the categories in the so-called transcendental deduction. The transcendental deduction rests on the idea that pure cognitions have objective validity if they are conditions of the possibility of experience. For Kant, knowing an object presupposes that this object is given in sensible intuition. The latter provides a sensible manifold which must be referred, as he says, to the unity of apperception. In order to bring this operation about, the sensible manifold must be connected. This connection, or synthesis, is carried out by means of the imagination in accordance with the categories, which function as rules for this synthesis. Thus, without the rule-giving function of the categories, no experience is possible. Having provided what he takes the proof of the pure origin of the categories and their validity to be, Kant points to the limits of discussing the categories within the context of the first Critique: I deliberately spare myself the definitions of these categories in this treatise, although I should like to be in possession of them. In the sequel I will analyze these concepts to the degree that is sufficient in relation to the doctrine of method that I am working up. In a system of pure reason one could rightly demand these of me; but here they would only distract us from the chief point of the investigation by arousing doubts and objections that can well be referred to another occasion without detracting from our essential aim.9 In other words, the first Critique investigates reason’s concepts to a limited degree, namely only in so far as necessary for understanding which concepts they are, why these concepts are pure, and how and to what extent they enable cognition. A future system of pure reason, on the other hand, would offer

8 cpr, Axx. 9 cpr, A82–83/B108–109.

124

wellmann

an “exhaustive analysis of all of human cognition a priori”.10 In line with this thought, Kant states that Since I will not infuse (bemengen) my critical project, which concerns solely the sources of synthetic a priori cognition, with analyses that address merely the elucidation (not the amplification) of concepts, I leave the detailed discussion of these concepts to a future system of reason – especially since one can already find such an analysis in rich measure even in the familiar textbooks of this sort.11 How exactly Kant envisages such an analysis in a projected system of pure reason is much harder to determine than Kant suggests here and a discussion of the probabilities would deviate too far from the actual aim of this paper.12 For our purpose it suffices to note that Kant distinguishes sharply between a deduction of the categories in the course of his propaedeutical or critical work and a definition and further application of the categories in his future system. Now, interestingly, it is this postponed definition of the categories that serves as a motivation for Fichte to provide a reformed deduction of the categories. We find the clearest account of this argument in the Second Introduction to the Wissenschaftslehre (1797). It starts from the diagnosis that Kant did not establish a metaphysical system.13 Fichte substantiates this observation by pointing to exactly the passages that I just discussed: In the first Critique, Fichte argues, Kant clearly postpones a definition of the categories to a future system.14 The aim of the Wissenschaftslehre is to provide such a system, which, in turn, implies a definition of the categories.

10 11 12

13 14

cpr, A13/B27. cpr, A204/B249. I thank Karin de Boer for translation feedback on this passage. From some of Kant’s letters and those parts of the future system that had been completed, we know, however, that the theoretical part of a future system of pure reason would use this table first in order to organize its content – as the Metaphysical Foundations give an example of – and second provide the material for further analysis and synthesis – such as for instance the application of one category to an empirical concept as in the Metaphysical Foundations, or to a pure concept, such as Kant indicates in his instruction to a possible ontology. Cf. Kant’s letter to Jakob, (September 11, 1787 (10:494–495)). I take Kant’s ontology to deal with the analysis of the pure concepts of the understanding and with their interconnection. Rational physics, on the other hand, approaches an empirical concept from the perspective of one of the twelve categories. For a discussion of Kant’s projected system and its transformation in German Idealism, see Karin de Boer (2011). Cf. sw i:477, 478. Cf. sw i:478.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

125

In spite of Kant’s assertion that such definitions could easily be given on the basis of the first Critique’s material and contemporary textbooks of logic – following the model Baumgarten presents in his Metaphysica – Fichte has another strategy in mind.15 Drawing on what Kant had argued in the transcendental deduction, he conceives of the categories as the “laws of the relation of consciousness towards itself”.16 They are, as he states, “conditions for the possibility of self-consciousness”.17 On the basis of this conception, the definition of the categories, Fichte argues, consists in the following: “The categories can be defined, each by its determinate relation to the possibility of self-consciousness”.18 Both Fichte’s conception of the categories and of their definition marks a deviation from the project Kant had in mind. To be sure, as pointed out above, Kant had argued that pure self-consciousness (i.e. the unity of apperception) presupposes a synthesis of the manifold which, in turn, is enabled by means of the categories. However, as also pointed out, he does not envisage a definition of the categories on the basis of their function for self-consciousness. Hence, Fichte, while using the elements Kant had established, discreetly introduces his own project. The next step of Fichte’s argument consists in linking the definition of the categories with their deduction. Determining the relation of each category towards self-consciousness, he argues, presupposes the proof that the categories are the “conditions for the possibility of self-consciousness”. The deduction of the categories is supposed to deliver this proof. Once this deduction is achieved, Fichte is convinced, a definition of the categories can easily been given on its basis.19 15 16

17 18 19

Cf. Kant’s letter to Jakob, September 11, 1787 (10:494–495). wl 1812, ga ii/13:102. In Fichte’s eyes, Kant indicates in his deduction that the transcendental unity of apperception is what Fichte calls the “punctum deductionis” of all elements of consciousness. The foundation of the first Critique consists in the unity of thinking and being provided by the subject (cf. Wissenschaftslehre 1804/ii, sw i:102). The main characteristic of Kant’s critical work is, as Fichte sees it here, the schematism by means of which Kant guarantees the bond between thinking and being. As Zöller (2007:255) and Asmuth (2009:246) have pointed out, Fichte’s ‘I think’ differs in various ways from Kant’s. Whereas for Kant, the ‘I think’ accompanies all possible representations and is limited to knowledge in its narrow sense, or theoretical cognition, Fichte extends this principle so that it includes as well ‘I intuit’ and ‘I will’. Transcendental apperception, for Fichte, means a reflection in its broadest sense. sw i:478. Fichte takes this general definition to correspond to the one Kant develops in the first Critique. See sw i: 478; sw x:392. sw i:478. sw i 478.

126

wellmann

The task to deliver the postponed metaphysical system thus shifts to the project to deliver a deduction that provides a definition of the categories. On the basis of this thought, we can already sketch the skeleton of Fichte’s argument to identify a “system of philosophy” with the deduction of the categories.20 If (1) Kant postpones the definition of the categories to a future system of pure reason, if (2) we agree that a definition of the categories can only be given if they are shown to be conditions of self-consciousness and if (3) such a proof consists in their deduction from self-consciousness, then Kant’s projected system of philosophy, on Fichte’s account, is supposed to deal with the “systematic deduction” of the categories.21 This implies, furthermore, that the Wissenschaftslehre, attempting to supply the postponed system, is supposed to deliver precisely the kind of deduction that provides at the same time a definition of the categories. The above quoted passage continues accordingly: “The categories can be defined, each by its determinate relation to the possibility of self-consciousness, and anyone in possession of these definitions is necessarily in possession of the Wissenschaftslehre”.22 Hence, on the basis of Kant’s remarks in his transcendental analytic, Fichte establishes a new relation between the deduction of the categories and the future system: While Kant distinguished between the task of a deduction of the categories and their definition, or, for that matter, between his propaedeutical work and a projected system, Fichte merges both tasks into one. Before I give a concrete example of the consequences of such an identification, however, I would like to discuss how Fichte plans to meet the criteria of success that he establishes for his project of a deduction.

3

From the Simple to the Manifold: Tathandlung and Deduction

A successful deduction of the categories, Fichte argues in the Second Introduction, consists in the proof that the categories are the conditions of the possibility of self-consciousness. The way to live up to such a demand, it seems from almost all of Fichte’s Jena writings, implies two argumentative steps. First, self-consciousness must be established as a first principle of the deduction. That is to say, self-consciousness not only serves as the “highest point” of the deduction of the categories, such as Kant had argued, but also as its

20 21 22

sw i:477. Wissenschaftslehre 1812, ga ii/13, 103. Second Introduction, sw i:477–479. sw i:478.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

127

foundation.23 “In his deduction of the categories” Fichte writes in this regard in the Foundation, “Kant had already pointed to our proposition as the absolute axiom of all knowledge; however, he never established and determined (bestimmt aufgestellt) it.”24 Establishing self-consciousness as a principle implies, Fichte states, that it not only conditions but also determines consciousness. In line with his conviction that the Wissenschaftslehre completes the Kantian project, Fichte claims that ultimately the former is a consequence of the latter: If a person says: ‘all consciousness is conditioned by the possibility of self-consciousness’ [as Fichte takes Kant to say, G.W.] then, as he proceeds in his investigation of consciousness, he will not know anything more about consciousness than this, and he will abstract from anything else he may otherwise believe that he knows about consciousness [this is what Kant, in Fichte’s eyes, failed to do, G.W.]. He will derive everything required from the postulated principle [i.e. self-consciousness, G.W.] and only the consciousness he has derived in this manner will count for him as consciousness at all. Everything else is and remains nothing whatsoever. Thus, for a person who is examining consciousness in this manner, derivability from self-consciousness determines the scope of what he will consider to be consciousness; and this occurs precisely because he starts with the presupposition that all consciousness is conditioned by the possibility of self-consciousness.25 If we agree that self-consciousness conditions consciousness, Fichte states, we must also agree that self-consciousness determines consciousness, or, in his own words: “determinacy follows from conditionality”.26 According to Fichte, this means that “everything that occurs within consciousness has its foundation in the conditions that make self-consciousness possible – that is to say, is given and is produced thereby and possesses no foundation whatsoever outside of self-consciousness.”27 Thus, for Fichte, Kant’s critical philosophy – if consistently thought – leads directly to the assumption that all the elements of consciousness have their foundation in self-consciousness. Such an advanced or true critical philoso23 24 25 26 27

cpr, B 134. Foundation, sw i:99. Cf. Second Introduction, sw i:472. sw i:477, 478. sw i:477. sw i:477.

128

wellmann

phy would combine the insights of the transcendental turn with the advantages of a principle-based metaphysics.28 From the former, it takes the insight that self-consciousness conditions consciousness; from the latter, it borrows the instruments to generate (or, for that matter, to determine) all the elements of consciousness from self-consciousness qua first principle. Fichte’s foundation thus consists in a principle that conditions and determines consciousness. The second argumentative step that Fichte makes in order to meet the criteria for his deduction is to ensure that self-consciousness indeed determines consciousness. He does so by redefining the conception of self-consciousness in terms of a Tathandlung. That is to say, he not only transforms Kant’s ‘highest point’ into a foundation; he also specifies the activity of self-consciousness as Tathandlung, such that a deduction of the categories has to prove that the categories are conditions of the activity that is exercised in the Tathandlung. This proof starts from a general characterization of transcendental philosophy – and thus of the Wissenschaftslehre. According to the latter, Fichte recalls, the object of philosophical investigation is the “inner, spontaneous force (selbsttätige Kraft)” of the I or the “original process of reason”.29 The remarkable contribution Fichte provides with regard to this theory is the insight that the only way of examining the activity of reason is to exercise it. Put differently, the philosopher has no object of research at hand other than her own thinking I and in order to examine the activity of the latter, the philosopher must perform it.30 Fichte calls the Wissenschaftslehre in this regard an experiment that presupposes that the reader follows the instruction: “Think of yourself, construct the concept of yourself; and notice how you do it”.31

28

29

30

31

Fichte follows the project of Reinhold here. On the basis of the conviction that “the foundation of the Critique of Pure Reason is neither general nor stable ( fest) enough to carry the whole scientific edifice of philosophy”, the declared aim of Reinhold is to equip Kant’s philosophy with a foundation. See Fundament, 129, cf. Fundament 5. New Attempt (1789/2010: 56//39). For the project of reorganizing Kant’s philosophy, see for instance Reinhold, On the Possibility of Philosophy as A Strict Science (1790), Rectifications i, 348, Foundation, 26. On Reinhold’s reaction to Kant’s philosophy in more general terms, see Rohs (1991:30–33). Second Introduction sw i:454; 458. Accordingly, Fichte states that the “chosen topic of consideration is not a lifeless concept, merely passively exposed to its inquiry, […] but a living and active entity which engenders insights from and through itself, and which the philosopher merely contemplates”. Second Introduction sw i:454. Fichte formulates this thought in various ways throughout his Jena writings. In the Foundation, he elucidates the idea by explaining: The I is at my disposal, or, “for me” only once I posit it. In short: “the I is (sei), because it posits itself”. Foundation, sw i: 96, 98. Second Introduction sw i:458. Given that it is not directly relevant for my argumentation, I deliberately omit Fichte’s term of positing in this article, that is to say the term that denotes the activity to generate an object by reflection.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

129

It is this conception of an auto-activity that explains, as Fichte sees it, how the content (or, as he also puts it, the “manifold”) of consciousness is generated.32 The process of self-reflection results in an object, namely the I that exercises the experiment.33 A first content is thus given to consciousness without any reference to something other than the activity of self-reflection. As Fichte sees it, this independence marks the main difference of his theory to Kant’s: According to Kant, all consciousness is merely conditioned by self-consciousness; i.e. the contents of consciousness can still be grounded by or have their foundation in something or other outside of consciousness. Things that are grounded in this way must simply not contradict the conditions of self-consciousness; that is to say they must simply not annul the possibility of self-consciousness but they do not actually have to be generated from self-consciousness.34 The Tathandlung, by contrast, is “an activity that does not presuppose an object but produces this object itself such that its acting becomes immediately a deed.”35 In this way, it determinates the content of consciousness. While the object that is generated in the initial act of the Tathandlung is nothing else than the reflecting I qua object, the aim of the Wissenschaftslehre is to generate the entire consciousness from there.36 In this way, Fichte hopes to prove the claim that self-consciousness indeed conditions and determines consciousness. Explicating self-consciousness in terms of the Tathandlung qua principle sheds new light on Fichte’s conception of a deduction of the categories, such as I discussed it in the previous section. There, I defined the task of the deduction as proving that the categories are conditions of self-consciousness. Now that the nature of self-consciousness has become clear, this definition must be

32

33 34 35 36

WLnm-K, ga iv, 3:485. Fichte states in this regard: “In the intelligence, therefore, […] there is a double sequence, of being and of seeing, of the real and of the ideal; and its essence consists in the inseparability of these two (it is synthetic).” First Introduction, sw i:436. See Second Introduction, sw i:458–459, 462. sw i:477. Second Introduction, sw i:468. See Natural Right, sw iii:2, where Fichte claims: “All being, that of the I as well as of the Not-I, is a determinate (bestimmte) modification of consciousness.” On Fichte’s notion of being, see: Baumanns (1974: 188). As such, the deduction of the categories fulfills what Fichte defines as the task of the Wissenschaftslehre as a whole, namely, as he states in his Second Introduction, to “provide (angeben) the reason why we assume something outside the I at all.” First Introduction, sw i:423. Translation modified.

130

wellmann

adjusted. A deduction of the categories has to prove that the categories are the conditions that enable the I to make itself an object, that is to say, to enable content at all. That the categories are the “laws of the relation of consciousness towards itself” implies that they are the laws of generating content: The categories, Fichte writes, “do not merely serve, as it were, to tie together [what is manifold, such as in Kant’s deduction, G.W.]; they are also the means by which something simple is made manifold and appears in a dual manner.”37 In other words, the categories are the laws by means of which the I, qua simple principle, reflects upon itself and realizes the manifold that is generated by this reflection. The deduction of the categories has thus to demonstrate how the I arrives at a content of consciousness and that the I can only arrive at the latter by means of specific laws of acting which correspond to the categories.

4

The Deduction of the Category of Reality in the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre

After having sketched the program of Fichte’s deduction of the categories in general, I would like to discuss a concrete instance of the latter using the example of the deduction of the category of reality. In particular I would like to examine how Fichte intends to demonstrate that: (1) A deduction of reality proves that the category of reality is a necessary moment for the activity of the Tathandlung. (2) A deduction of the category of reality provides the definition of the category of reality. One of the most elaborate deductions of the category of reality is to be found in the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre of 1794/95. In this work, Fichte follows a method he refers to as “abstracting reflection.”38 He details

37

38

sw x:391. Fichte takes this general definition to correspond to the one Kant develops in the first Critique. The German original reads: “Kategorien sind die Weisen […] wie das unmittelbare Bewusstsein zu einem mittelbaren wird, die Weisen, wie das Ich aus dem bloßen Denken seiner selbst herausgeht zu dem Denken eines anderen; sie sind nicht etwa etwas bloß verknüpfendes, [wie bei Kant], sondern sie sind die Weisen, ein Einfaches zu einem Mannigfaltigen zu machen, das Einfache doppelt anzusehen.” WLnm-K, ga iv, 3, 485. Foundation, sw i:91. As Bondeli (1997:212) argues, Fichte’s notion of abstraction differs from that of Kant and Reinhold. Whereas for Fichte, abstraction is a necessary capacity of reason by means of which I raise myself from experience and the ordinary standpoint, for Kant and Reinhold, abstraction includes the loss of content and individuality. Nonetheless, similar to Reinhold, Fichte employs a regressive method that is supposed to derive

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

131

this method as follows: An abstraction establishes either form or content of a proposition independently of the respective other element. A reflection examines the abstracted element and establishes it in a new proposition.39 In line with this description, the first paragraph of the Foundation starts with an abstraction from the first principle, that is to say from the Tathandlung, and proceeds to a reflection upon the abstraction’s results. Now strictly speaking, in the Foundation, Fichte still inserts an axiom that is supposed to express the Tathandlung.40 In line with Reinhold, Fichte maintains that a deduction requires a logical proposition from where it starts.41 In his Elementarphilosophie, Reinhold had distinguished between a principle (Prinzip) – for Reinhold, the fact of consciousness – and an (logical) axiom (Grundsatz) that expresses this principle – for Reinhold, the proposition of consciousness.42 In accordance with this model, Fichte’s Foundation presents an “absolutely first, unconditioned axiom of all human knowledge” that is able to express the mere activity of the Tathandlung in a proposition that can be used in any syllogism.43 As important as the distinction between principle and axiom is for Fichte’s conception of philosophy, it is of minor relevance for the present reconstruction of

39

40 41

42

43

the condition of all philosophical propositions from propositions that count as valid. Since Fichte holds that the axioms of the Wissenschaftslehre can neither be proven nor deduced, he believes himself to be forced to find them via “facts of empirical consciousness” – a procedure I will refrain from discussing here. On the role of the empirical as the starting point of the system, see: Baumanns (1974:103). Fichte changes the presentation of this deduction already in his Attempt (1797) and his Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo (1796–1799). There Fichte stresses that logic cannot function as a foundation (or, for that matter, propaedeutic) to philosophy. Rather, logic, is the “art of thinking qua preparation” (Denkkunst der Vorbereitung). ga ii/14:12. From 1800 onwards, Fichte dismisses the idea of starting from logic altogether. See Bertinetto (2009:148). Cf. Concept, sw i:67. In the Concept, Fichte details that abstraction deals only with an abstraction from the content, while reflection would then make the form the new content. In view of the method in the Foundation, I have generalized his description here. Cf. Foundation, sw i:110. Fichte accuses Kant for just having accepted that the first principle is inconceivable instead of having used this fact in order to derive the system, as Fichte himself did. Foundation, sw i:99. Cf. Second Introduction, sw i:472; see also Bickmann (1997:149). Although Fichte follows Reinhold by not defining the first principle with a proposition, he deviates from Reinhold by defining it as a deed (instead, as Reinhold had done, as a fact). Whereas for Reinhold, the distinction between the fact of consciousness – i.e. the principle – and the proposition of consciousness – i.e. the first axiom of all philosophy – consists in the form of both and consequently in the different ways in which the human mind relates to this form, for Fichte, this distinction has an architectonical dimension that should not be ignored. Foundation, sw i:91.

132

wellmann

his deduction of the category of reality. I will therefore refrain from discussing it here and will, instead, briefly recall the argument of the deduction in more general terms.44 The first aspect Fichte abstracts from is the Tathandlung’s most significant characteristic, namely its original activity. As a result of this abstraction, Fichte argues, we are left with the merely formal expression of the identity in selfconsciousness, I=I or I am.45 Fichte continues by abstracting from the content of this proposition, namely the I, such that we get the logical principle of identity that he puts into the formula A=A.46 Secondly, Fichte strengthens this argument by a complex deduction spread over the entire Foundation, of all the capacities of the human mind from an ever-higher reflection on the dynamic of the relationship between the reflecting I and its object of reflection.47 In the course of this deduction, Fichte aims to demonstrate that all the capacities are moments of the I’s initial activity of selfreflection. On the basis of the deduction of the mind’s faculties, Fichte claims that the judgement A=A depends on a particular mode of the mind’s activity that takes place in empirical consciousness, namely judging. Finally, a third abstraction from the I qua activity delivers, as Fichte holds, the category of reality. If we abstract from any content and the fact that I=I or rather A=A is a judgment, we are, as Fichte states, left with positing something absolutely real. The reflection only focuses on the activity while disregarding the content “I”: If we abstract further from any judging, as a particular type of acting, and only regard the acting of the human mind in general, given by the form [the proposition A=A, G.W.], we get the category of reality.48

44

45 46 47 48

Some authors do not properly distinguish between principle and axiom, including for example Metz 1990: 219 and Schmidig 1997:2. The relation between principle and axiom established by Fichte is, in my view, similar to the one Reinhold ascribes to the proposition of consciousness and the term ‘representation’. However, whereas Reinhold holds that the proposition of consciousness needs to be a proposition, Fichte takes the principle of the I to be something absolute that can at most be expressed by a proposition. We find a similar thought in the Critique of Pure Reason, where Kant states that the ‘I think’ is an expression of the transcendental apperception. cpr, B132, B138. Foundation, sw i:94–95. Foundation, sw i:98–99. Foundation, sw i:246. Foundation, sw i:99. I take “ferner” here to mean that we need to abstract from the content in order to obtain the category of reality.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

133

The deduction of reality thus results from a threefold abstraction that single out a particular characteristic of the initial activity: firstly I=I (abstracting from activity), secondly A=A (abstracting from activity and content), and finally reality (abstracting from content and judgment).49 All three results express the same activity, namely the positing of an identity or self-consciousness.50 In Fichte’s eyes, this deduction achieves three goals at the same time. Firstly, it improves Kant’s deduction by properly delivering both a metaphysical and a transcendental deduction. As for the metaphysical deduction, Fichte presents reality as an abstraction from both a judgment (A=A) and the faculty that exercises this judgment. Hence, it presupposes judgment. A=A, i.e. a proposition of formal logic, and the category of reality are modes of the same activity, namely the I that originally posits its own being. This argument, Fichte claims, suffices not only to establish the pure origin of the category of reality, but also to determine its validity with respect to its application.51 Instead of a metaphysical and a transcendental deduction, a single deduction derives and justifies the application of reality. Various commentators have pointed to the problems of this theory.52 Ripke (1913) for example stresses that Fichte fails to explain how the categories apply to phenomena. Others, like Janke (1970), hold that Fichte did indeed succeed in providing a transcendental deduction. The latter, Janke argues, should be understood as the proof that the categories are necessary in order to link subject and object, rather than the proof that the categories are valid for objects of experience.53 In the Doctrine of Right (1812) and the Natural Right (1796), Fichte indeed develops an argument that substantiates Janke’s interpretation. He shows that the category and the object it is supposed to be applied to are two aspects of the same original activity. Concept and object, Fichte argues, belong to the same realm, namely the modification of self-consciousness. In this regard, they express a reflection from different angles on the same object (namely selfconsciousness): “If one regards the activity of the I, as such, in view of its form, then this activity is a concept. If one focuses on (sieht auf ) the content of the activity, the material, that which happens, and abstracts from the fact that it 49

50 51 52

53

It should be noted that strictly speaking, I=I does not abstract from the activity but disregards it, as Fichte takes the deduction of the “I am” not to be possible by means of the analytic method. Cf. Foundation, sw i, 96. See Foundation, sw i:98–99. Outline, sw i:387. Baumanns (1974:227) argues that the coinciding of the metaphysical and transcendental deduction only is valid for the category of reality, whereas the application of the other categories to objects needs to be justified by referring back to the category of reality. Cf. Janke (1970:123).

134

wellmann

happens, then this activity is the object.”54 If we disregard the fact that the I acts upon itself, what emerges is the I qua object to itself. If we disregard that the activity generates an I, this activity can be said to denote the category of reality. Thus, Fichte summarizes, object and concept “are one and the same, regarded only from different perspectives.”55 An abstracting reflection upon the Tathandlung explains concept and object as different modes of reflection. In the Foundation’s first paragraph, Fichte gradually develops these modes of reflection by discussing the generation of the categories from the dialectic of the second and third axiom. Whether Fichte delivers in this way an argument that meets the criteria Kant had set for a successful transcendental deduction will not be discussed here. For this paper’s purpose, it suffices to say that in the case of the category of reality, Fichte only proves that the object qua I arises at the same time with the category.56 In this regard, he characterizes the difference between Kant’s deduction and his own by the quote I cited in abbreviated form in the introduction: Kant, who originally develops the categories as laws of the understanding, and who was, from his point of view, entirely right to do so, needs the schemata of the power of imagination in order to [explain] their application to objects. […] In the Wissenschaftslehre, the [categories] arise simultaneously with the objects and in order to make the latter possible at all.57 Such a conception implies the achievement of a second goal that Fichte intends to reach, namely meeting the criteria he himself established for a successful deduction of the categories. By demonstrating that the category of reality denotes the acting of the I in general, Fichte thinks he has proven the category’s necessity for the Tathandlung. Given that the Tathandlung is not pos-

54

55 56

57

Natural Right, sw iii: 4. See also: Natural Right, sw iii: 5, where Fichte states: “From the point of view of common consciousness, there are only objects and no concepts; the concepts disappears in the object and coincides with it.” Natural Right, sw iii: 4. Given that Fichte establishes the I as something absolutely real, it surpasses – at that stage of its development – any objective validity. For a detailed discussion of the extraordinary role the category of reality plays in Fichte’s deduction of the categories, see: Metz (1991:242–247) and Kisser (2016). Outline, sw i:387. As mentioned, since I will not discuss the power of imagination, I have shortened the quote. However, the latter is of utmost importance for Fichte’s theory of faculties.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

135

sible without the activity of the I, reality is a law that enables the possibility of the Tathandlung. Put differently, Fichte conceives of the principle of selfconsciousness as something that cannot be stated or explained, but can only be actively or genetically developed via the elements of consciousness. This development, I take it, he calls deduction. In this sense, deducing the elements of consciousness equals understanding the first principle of all knowledge – the ultimate task of the Wissenschaftslehre. Just as Fichte promises in the Second Introduction, he provides the definition of the category of reality on the basis of its deduction and thus achieves the third objective of his transformed deduction of the categories. In the deduction of reality, Fichte showed that the category of reality is nothing else than the activity of the I, seen from a specific perspective. In § 4 of the Foundation, Fichte defines the category of reality as follows: “All reality is active (tätig) and everything that is active is reality”.58 This definition determines the relation of reality towards the possibility of self-consciousness, just as Fichte demanded in the Second Introduction. By this definition, he thinks he has provided what Kant had postponed to a future metaphysical system. A proper deduction of the categories thus delivers, in Fichte’s eyes, step by step the definition of the categories and therefore, the system of philosophy. These results immediately raise the question in which works Fichte locates the deduction of the categories. Although such a discussion would extend the scope of this paper, I will provide a brief prospect of this by way of conclusion. As it is implied by the variety of works I quoted from, it is probable that Fichte took a proper deduction of the categories to take place in the course of the various parts of the Wissenschaftslehre. Such a hypothesis would be strengthened for instance by Fichte’s statement in the Way to the Blessed Life (1806), where he ascribes a hierarchical order to the different modes of viewing or reflecting upon the initial activity of the I.59 The difference in the “view taken of the object – the object itself meanwhile remaining the same – can only arise from the obscurity or clearness, the depth or shallowness, the completeness or incompleteness of the view thus taken of the One abiding world”, Fichte states.60 For example, the standpoint of the Doctrine of Right regards the sensible world as a “sphere in which men can act freely”, while the foundation of

58 59

60

Foundation, sw § 4. For further claims in this direction, see also Fichte’s letter to Reinhold, August 29, 1795, (1986:178), where Fichte writes to Reinhold that “the further application of my axioms shall make them clear and, as I hope, universally understandable (gemeinfasslich).” Way to the Blessed Life (Anweisung zum seligen Leben), sw v:464.

136

wellmann

the world is a law of order among rational beings. In contrast, the Doctrine of Morals regards the foundation of the world to consist in a creative law and stands at a higher level of reflection. Whereas the Doctrine of Right is based on a law that is merely negative, “abolishing the opposition between various free powers, and establishing equilibrium and peace in its stead”, the standpoint of the Doctrine of Morals “desires to inform the powers, thus lulled to rest, with a new life. […] It seeks, in those whom it inspires, and through them in others, to make humanity in deed, what it is according to its original vocation.”61 In all of these works, Fichte discusses the deduction of the categories from ever new standpoints of reflection. This might substantiate the hypothesis that a proper deduction requires all parts, or, for that matter, all standpoints of reflection that are offered by the Wissenschaftslehre.62

5

Conclusion

This article has attempted to shed light on the transformation Fichte introduces into Kant’s deductions of the categories from the perspective of his Wissenschaftslehre as a whole. As I hope to have shown, he alters first the notion of a deduction: deducing becomes the term for proving that an element is constitutive for self-consciousness. Second, he alters the meaning of a category: the category is supposed to express the law by means of which the content of consciousness is produced. Third, he alters the conception of a metaphysical system by merging this project into a deduction of the categories. Focusing on the architectonical relation between deduction and metaphysical system, I hope to have provided an interpretation that contributes both to a more detailed analysis of Fichte’s deduction of the categories and to its evaluation within the broader context of classical German Philosophy. In this regard, I take it that the transformation of the function that the deduction of the categories holds with respect to a projected system of a priori cognition mirrors the transformation that takes place between Kant’s and Fichte’s conceptions of systematic metaphysics as such: Whereas for Kant, a system of pure reason includes a preliminary and critical investigation into the use of pure reason, Fichte’s conception of the Wissenschaftslehre slowly gives way to another objective: a comprehensive explanation, or derivation, of every element of con61 62

Ibid., sw v:469. Smith translation modified. On the problem of the openness of the system of the Wissenschaftslehre see Radrizzani (1998:11–14) who argues that Fichte’s system is open with respect to its content and the ways in which it can be represented.

“the subsequent delivery of the deduction”

137

sciousness by the immanent, self-determining dynamic of reason, such that deduction and metaphysical system merge indeed into one and the same program.63

Bibliography Acosta, E. (2011), Schiller versus Fichte. Schillers Begriff der Person in der Zeit und Fichtes Kategorie der Wechselbestimmung im Widerstreit (Amsterdam, New York: Rodopi). Asmuth, C. (2009), ‘Von der Urteilstheorie zur Bewusstseinstheorie. Die Entgrenzung der Transzendentalphilosophie’, in: Fichte-Studien 33, pp. 221–249. Baumanns, P. (1974), Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre. Probleme ihres Anfangs. Mit einem Kommentar zu §1 der Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre (Bonn: Bouvier Verlag Grundmann). Baumanns, P. (1979), ‘Transzendentale Deduktion der Kategorien bei Kant und Fichte’, in: Hammacher, K., Mues, A. (ed.) Erneuerung der Transzendentalphilosophie im Anschluss an Kant und Fichte (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog), pp. 42–75. Beiser, F. (1987), The Fate of Reason: German Philosophy from Kant to Fichte (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press). Bertinetto, A. (2009), ‘„Wäre ihm dies klar geworden, so wäre seine Ktk. W.L. geworden“: Fichtes Auseinandersetzung mit Kant in den Vorlesungen über transzendentale Logik’ in: Fichte-Studien (33), 145–164. Bickmann, C. (1997), ‘Zwischen Sein und Setzen. Fichtes Kritik am dreifachen Absoluten der Kantischen Philosophie’, in: Fichte-Studien 9, pp. 141–161. Breazeale, D. (2007), ‘Die synthetische(n) Methode(n) des Philosophierens. Kantische Fragen, Fichtische Antworten’, in: Stolzenberg, J. (ed.), Kant und der Frühidealismus (Hamburg: Meiner), pp. 81–102. De Boer K. (2011). Transformations of Transcendental Philosophy: Wolff, Kant, and Hegel. Bulletin of the Hegel Society of Great Britain (63), 50–79. Janke (1970) Sein und Reflexion. Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft. Kisser, T. (2016), ‘Gradualität, Intensität, Subjektivität – Zur Struktur und Funktion der Qualitätskategorie bei Fichte und in ihrer Vorgeschichte’, in: Kisser, T., Leinkauf, T. (ed.), Intensität und Realität, (Berlin: De Gruyter), pp. 171–224. Lauth, R. (1963), ‘J.G. Fichtes Gesamtidee der Philosophie’, in: Philosophisches Jahrbuch 1963/64 (71), pp. 253–285. 63

These results confirm what more general studies on Fichte’s transcendental project claim, namely that Fichte broadens Kant’s conception of judging towards a theory of consciousness (Asmuth, 2009).

138

wellmann

Metz, W. (1991), Kategoriendeduktion und produktive Einbildungskraft in der theoretischen Philosophie Kants und Fichtes. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt. Radrizzani, I. (1998), ‘L’idée de système chez Fichte’ in: Aktenband der Tagung zum Thema “L’Idée de système”, Paris, 20–21. März, 1998. Vogel, U. (2007), ‘Das Ich und seine Kategorien. Begründungsleistungen und – defizite bei Fichte und Schelling (1794–95)’, in: J. Stolzenberg (eds.), Kant und der Frühidealismus (Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag), pp. 248–273. Zöller, G. (2000), ‘From Critique to Metacritique: Fichte’s Transformation of Kant’s Transcendental Idealism’, in: Sedgwick, S. (eds), The Reception of Kant’s Critical Philosophy. Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel (Cambridge: University Press), pp. 129–146.

7 From Being Reflexive to Absolute Reflection – Fichte’s Original Insight Reconsidered Stefan Schick

Abstract This paper defends Fichte’s conception of the absolute I by interpreting it as a modification of the reflection theory. It firstly provides a short outline of Dieter Henrich’s idea of Fichte’s “original insight,” before delineating the problems of Fichte’s “original insight” as they are presented by Henrich. It then analyzes Fichte’s concept of the absolute I by reconstructing its deduction in the Foundations of the Science of Knowledge (1794). With the concept of the absolute I delineated in this manner, it then argues against Henrich’s objections. It concludes that Fichte’s conception of the absolute I is not a rejection of the reflection theory, but rather a radical re-interpretation of it.

Keywords absolute I – reflection theory – first principles – Dieter Henrich – original insight

Even half a century after its publication, the significance of Dieter Henrich’s groundbreaking “Fichte’s ursprüngliche Einsicht” can hardly be overemphasized.1 In this essay, Henrich develops one of the most illuminating expositions

1 Evidence of this significance is the recent new edition of Henrich’s paper in Dieter Henrich, Dies Ich, das viel besagt. Fichtes Einsicht nachdenken (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann: 2019), 1–49. Since this book was published after my paper had been finished, I could not give it the attention it deserves, but I will quote from this new edition. A recent commentary by one of the most important contemporary Fichte scholars, Günter Zöller, also pays tribute to the importance of Henrich’s essay. There Zöller outlines and criticizes Henrich’s thesis in detail, especially the “philological” shortcomings of Henrich’s thesis of “the three stages of Fichte’s increasing insight into the origin of the I.” See: Günter Zöller, “Fichte’s Original Insight. Dieter Henrich’s Pioneering Piece Half A Century Later,” in Debates in Nineteenth Century Philosophy. Essential Readings and Contemporary Responses, ed. by Kristin Gjesdal (New York: Routledge 2016). In contrast to Zöller, we will only focus on Henrich’s main thesis

© Stefan Schick, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_008

140

schick

and critiques of Fichte’s early concept of self-consciousness. According to Henrich, the original insight of Fichte’s model of self-consciousness consists in the discovery of a specific shortcoming of the so-called “reflection theory” of selfconsciousness defended by most of Fichte’s predecessors and contemporaries. For Henrich the strength of Fichte’s insight lies primarily in his awareness of the inadequacy of the reflection theory and not so much in his own solution to this problem, as Fichte’s alternative production model of self-consciousness (identified by Henrich with the absolute I of the first principle of the Foundations of the Science of Knowledge) is supposed to remain insufficient too. Neither can Fichte’s concept of the absolute I explain the specific character of knowledge that self-consciousness has to feature, nor does it suffice to serve as the first principle of being and knowledge that it was supposed to be.2 In this paper, I want to defend Fichte’s conception of the absolute I against these objections by interpreting it as a modification of the reflection theory. I will proceed as follows: First, I will give a short outline of Henrich’s idea of Fichte’s “original insight.” Secondly, I will delineate the problems of Fichte’s “original insight” as they are presented by Henrich. Thirdly, I will analyze Fichte’s concept of the absolute I by reconstructing its deduction in the Foundations of the Science of Knowledge (1794). Fourthly, with the concept of the absolute I thus delineated, I will argue against Henrich’s objections. Finally, I will argue that Fichte’s conception of the absolute I is not a rejection of the reflection theory, but rather a radical re-interpretation of it.

1

Fichte’s Original Insight

In this section, I will give an outline of Henrich’s presentation of the reflection theory of self-consciousness, Fichte’s objections to this model, and finally Fichte’s counter-model of self-consciousness. According to Henrich, self-consciousness as the principle of knowledge is common ground for modern thinkers such as Descartes, Leibniz, Rousseau, and Kant.3 The feature shared by all their different theories of self-consciousness is

that Fichte’s theory of self-consciousness is a flawed critique of the reflexive model of selfconsciousness. 2 Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 5. Cf. also Manfred Frank, “Subjectivity and Individuality: Survey of a Problem,” in Figuring the Self. Subject, Absolute and Others in Classical German Philosophy, ed. David E. Klemm and Günter Zöller (Albany: State University of New York Press: 1997), 12 f. 3 Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 8. That Kant actually held the reflection theory

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

141

the paradigm that the I identifies itself as itself in an act of reflecting upon itself, and that it is this reflective act of identification which constitutes the I. Henrich refers to this model as the “reflection theory” of self-consciousness. Although all the aforementioned thinkers make use of this model, it is Kant who explains the fundamental structure behind it: Kant understands the I as an act in which the subject of knowledge abstracts from all objects; instead of reflecting on an object, it reflects on itself, that is, it turns its intention back towards itself. In doing so, the I as the subject of reflection becomes its own object so that it appears with two different values: as a subject-I and as an object-I. Hence, self-consciousness as the relation of identity that is thus created between the subject-I and the object-I is the result of the subject making itself the object of its own intention.4 To summarize, self-consciousness, as it is presented by the reflection theory, exhibits the following features: 1. The I constitutes itself as an I in its reflection upon itself. 2. In this reflection, the I appears with two different values, namely as a subject-I and an object-I. 3. The I is nothing other than the consciousness of the identity between the subject-I and the object-I. According to Henrich, Fichte is the first to realize that this idea of self-consciousness is based on a circularity which until then had not been noticed by the advocates of the reflection theory.5 For there are only two ways of interpreting this model, neither of which is sufficient to explain self-consciousness: 1. The subject of reflection is not already an I before its act of reflection, in which it identifies itself with its object. But in that case it cannot recognize itself as an I in its act of reflection. For since the meaning of “I” is exactly the fact that something recognizes itself as being identical with itself, the subject-I of reflection can only know of its identity with the object-I of reflection if it already knows itself as an I. That means that it already has to know itself as the identity of a subject and an object. Therefore, the act of reflection is not able to establish the I since already the subject-I of reflection has to be the identity of the subject-I and the object-I expressed by Fichte in the formula “I = I.”6

ascribed to him by Henrich is criticized by authors such as Karl Ameriks, “Kant and the Self: A Retrospective,” in Figuring the Self. Subject, Absolute and Others in Classical German Philosophy, ed. David E. Klemm and Günter Zöller (Albany: State University of New York Press: 1997), 61–63. 4 Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 8 f. 5 Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 12. 6 Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 11 f.

142

schick

2.

The subject-I already is “I = I.” But then the act of reflection presupposes what it is supposed to explain, namely, the constitution of the I. In both cases, the reflection theory can only give a circular explanation of self-consciousness. Whereas the I as self-consciousness is supposed to be the outcome of the identification of the subject-I with its object, both the subject and the object of this identification already have to fulfill the formula “I = I.” In revealing this circularity, Fichte realizes that the I cannot be the result of a reflection in which the I gets to know itself as an I, but that already the subject of reflection has to be the knowledge of self-identity. Realizing that this circularity cannot be resolved within the paradigms of the reflection theory, Fichte tries to replace it with a production model of the absolute I. According to this model, the absolute I is pure activity without an underlining entity that is active – the so-called fact-act (“Tathandlung”) by which “the I posits itself.”7 This absolute I is not the unity of a subject and an object, but the unity of an underivable being and an absolute activity that refers to itself in its activity and is supposed to know itself in this very activity.8 Fichte thereby understands the specific knowledge of self-consciousness as the impinging (“Auftreffen”) of an act upon its own activity.9 This production model of self-consciousness together with the formula “the I posits itself” is intended as an explicit negation of the reflection theory.10 It is meant to express the simultaneity of the whole relation “I = I” with its moments. This means that the supposedly distinct moments of the production of the I and the production of the I as selfconsciousness are in fact not to be distinguished.

2

Henrich’s Objections

For Henrich, this “original insight,” which Fichte brings to light in his Foundations of the Science of Knowledge, is an ingenious analysis of the insufficiency of the reflection theory, but it is not a satisfactory solution to the problem of selfconsciousness. Though Fichte reveals the inevitable circularity of the reflection theory of self-consciousness, his own production model suffers at least two major shortcomings, which Henrich examines in two different writings.

7 8 9 10

J.G. Fichte, “Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre 1794/95,” in ga. Vol. i/2 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1965), 259. Dieter Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein. Untersuchungen zu Hölderlins Denken (1794– 1795) (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1992), 42. Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 18. Henrich, “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” 15 f.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

1.

143

In “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht,” Henrich interprets Fichte’s perpetual modifications of his Science of Knowledge following the Foundations as a fundamental critique of his production model of self-consciousness from 1794. Fichte realizes that his early model of the absolute I as some pure activity upon itself cannot explain the epistemic character of this action, which is necessary for one to speak of self-consciousness in a legitimate manner, namely that the absolute I by positing itself has to recognize itself as an I. Therefore, Fichte modifies his original formula “the I posits itself” many times throughout his intellectual career, culminating in the metaphorical description of the I as an action with an implanted eye, which is directed towards itself and only sees itself. In doing so, Fichte tries at the same time not to fall back into the vicious circle of the reflection theory and to satisfy the epistemic character of selfconsciousness. 2. In his later book Der Grund im Bewusstsein (1992), ensuing from Hölderlin’s critique of Fichte in the former’s short note Judgment and Being from 1795, Henrich gives one further argument against Fichte’s concept of the absolute I in the Foundations. Opposing Fichte’s attempt to base all knowledge on an act of self-referential knowledge,11 Hölderlin tries to show that self-consciousness does not work as a self-sufficient concept. Hölderlin presents the following argument: a. “I” cannot mean anything other than self-consciousness. b. Without equivocation, one can only speak of self-consciousness if there is a disjunction, since self-consciousness characterizes a relational unity with at least two moments, namely a subject-I and an opposed object-I, which both have to be conjoined into a unity.12 Therefore, self-consciousness cannot be non-relational. c. For this reason, the unity of the subject-I and the object-I presupposes a more original, non-relational13 unity, which cannot be adequately expressed by the name “I”.14 For Hölderlin and Henrich, Fichte’s early conception of self-consciousness is therefore confronted with the alternative of either presupposing a unity preceding the I or conceiving the absolute I as being without difference; but then the I is not an I any more, since the concept of I as consciousness implies the

11 12 13 14

Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 13. Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 42, 46, 503. Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 463. Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 41.

144

schick

difference between something that knows and something that is known.15 In either case, Fichte’s “I = I” as a concept for self-consciousness cannot be the principle of knowledge it is intended to be, but is only the outcome of the original separation (“Ur-Teilung”) of the original unity, which Hölderlin signifies by the name “Being.”16

3

Fichte’s Deduction of the absolute I in the Foundations

To summarize, we can extrapolate two objections made by Henrich against Fichte’s model of self-consciousness as it is presented in the Foundations: a. Knowledge is necessary for the constitution of self-consciousness, but Fichte cannot show that the action upon itself expressed in the formula “the I posits itself” has the character of knowledge. b. Fichte’s concept of the absolute I either has the character of self-consciousness or it does not. If it does, then it cannot be an absolute I since it implies difference and, therefore, presupposes a more fundamental unity. But if it does not, then the absolute I does not have the character of selfconsciousness, but then it cannot be an absolute I. To answer these problems I am now going to analyze Fichte’s deduction of the absolute I as he presents it in his Foundations of the Science of Knowledge (1794) by distinguishing three steps of this deduction and pointing out its starting point. The starting point of Fichte’s deduction: Supposing that Fichte’s absolute I allegedly is intended as a counter-model to Kant’s reflection theory of self-consciousness, the affinity of Fichte’s deduction of the absolute I to Kant’s transcendental deduction of self-consciousness as the transcendental unity of apperception is at least noticeable. Contrary to his later Nova Methodo,17 Fichte

15

16

17

Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 474. In his article Eine philosophische Konzeption entsteht Henrich indeed suggests that the absolute I has to be distinguished from selfconsciousness. (Dieter Henrich, “Eine philosophische Konzeption entsteht. Hölderlins Denken in Jena,” Hölderlin-Jahrbuch 28 (1992/93): 10.) Friedrich Hölderlin, “Urteil und Sein (1795),” in Sämtliche Werke und Briefe in drei Bänden, ed. Jochen Schmidt. Vol. 2 (Frankfurt am Main: dkv, 1994), 502. Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 47. J.G. Fichte, “Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, gehalten zu Jena im Winter 1798– 1799. Nachschrift Krause,” in ga. Vol. iv/3 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000), 327.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

145

in his Foundations strictly follows Kant18 by taking as the starting point of his deduction of his theory of self-consciousness not the problem of self-reference, but the problem of the possibility of knowledge.19 In his Critique of Pure Reason, Kant tries to show that self-consciousness as the capacity to unify given representations is necessary for even our most basic experience of empirical objects. In doing so, Kant refutes Hume’s displacement of the conception of the I as an identical self by the conception of a mere bundle of experiences. In contrast to Kant, Fichte does not start his deduction of self-consciousness from the problem of object experience, but from reflection as an essential moment in the process of gaining knowledge. For even those empiricists who deny a continuous and identical self would have to admit that knowledge involves acts of reflection in the broadest sense, as a mental act which turns something into an explicit content.20 Thus, in trying to prove that self-consciousness is the true basis of knowledge, Fichte believes reflection to be an uncontroversial starting point for asking about the principles of knowledge. Deduction step 1: Whereas reflection is a necessary element in gaining knowledge, Fichte assumes that reflection is not itself unconditional. For the possibility of reflection presupposes the identity of the very objects upon which one reflects. We can try to make this assumption more plausible: If the objects of reflection were not identical before and after being made explicit by the act of reflection, reflection could never turn an object into an explicit content, because the unexplicated content would not be the same content now made explicit by reflection, but a different content. Thus, reflection (and therefore knowledge) presupposes the validity of the law of identity.21 But in order to 18

19

20 21

Cf. Beatrice Longuenesse, “Two uses of ‘I’ as subject?,” in: Immunity to Error through Misidentification, New Essays, ed. Simon Prosser and François Récanati (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 89. Contrary to this finding, many contemporary Fichte scholars assume a primacy of the practical in Fichte’s theory of the I. The absolute I is first and foremost supposed to be “the highest principle of practical philosophy” (Wolfgang H. Schrader, Empirisches und absolutes Ich. Zur Geschichte des Begriffs Leben in der Philosophie J.G. Fichtes (StuttgartBad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1972), 17). Without being able to argue this case in this paper, I tend to follow scholars such as Frederick Neuhouser who believe that in Foundations Fichte’s starting point is the theoretical problem of knowledge. Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 329. Already in Eigne Meditationen, Fichte writes in a marginal, that “I am” (“Ich bin”) could be deduced from “A is A” (J.G. Fichte, “Eigne Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie,” in ga. Vol. ii/3. (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1971), 23). Many commentators think that Fichte’s deduction of “I is I” from “A is A” is more or less arbitrary, e.g.,

146

schick

deduce his concept of self-consciousness, Fichte asks further whether the law of identity as a necessary condition for the possibility of reflection can be considered self-sufficient. To answer this question, he first determines the meaning of the law of identity, which logic expresses by the formula “A is A.” Fichte considers this formula as formal judgment.22 Let us first analyze the formality which Fichte ascribes to this logical proposition. Maintaining the formal character of “A is A” might seem rather trivial. But it is important for Fichte’s deduction of self-consciousness as the ground even of the validity of the law of identity. According to Fichte, every judgment originally consists of matter and form. But since propositions in logic are supposed to be concerned only with the pure forms of thinking and judging,23 they have to abstract from the matter of at least one judgment consisting of matter and form. Thus, they have two conditions: A judgment consisting of matter and form and a free act of abstraction.24 Thus being a product of abstraction, the logical formula “A is A” also presupposes reflection (since abstraction is not possible without reflection),25 which would already presuppose the law of identity. Furthermore, the logical judgment “A is A” either abstracts from the contingent matters of empirical judgments or not. If it does, then its condition is contingent and the law of identity itself is not necessary. But if it does not, then it abstracts from a necessary matter and then one has to look for this matter in order to establish the necessity of “A is A.”26

22 23 24

25 26

Rainer Schäfer, Johann Gottlieb Fichtes ‘Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre’ von 1794 (Darmstadt: wbg, 2006), 23. Whereas it is in fact true that “A is A” will not stay as the starting point for Fichte’s deductions of the I in his later versions of his Science of Knowledge, this early starting point nevertheless has an advantage over the later ones: here he does not begin from self-reference, but from the preconditions of knowledge even an empiricist might admit. J.G. Fichte, “Ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre 1794,” in ga. Vol. i/2 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1965), 121. Cf. e.g., Kant, Critique of Pure Judgment, 3: Logic “concerns merely the form of thinking in a system of rules.” Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 137f. Cf. also already Eigne Meditationen, 22; 27. In his later writings, Fichte turns this thought into a critique of what he calls “common logic.” Ignoring the conditions of its judgments, logic does not think the constitutive moments of thinking and therefore ignores the conditions of its own possibility. (J.G. Fichte, “Vom Unterschiede zwischen der Logik und der Philosophie selbst (Logik ii) (ws 1812/13),” in ga. Vol. ii/14 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2006) 200.) From this common logic Fichte then distinguishes his transcendental logic which reflects upon its abstraction from the matter of the propositions of the Science of Knowledge. Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 138. Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 138. One might notice that this argument resembles the starting point for Kant’s pre-critical Only Possible Argument in Support of a Demonstration of the Existence of God: If there is no given data for thinking, then logical possibility itself

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

147

Deduction step 2: Thus, although Fichte does not deny the necessity of “A is A,” he thinks that logic takes the truth of this judgment for granted instead of proving it.27 For proving the necessary truth of “A is A” one has to find the necessary content it is abstracting from, and this is the next step in Fichte’s deduction of self-consciousness.28 To this end, Fichte gives a deeper analysis of the law of identity, which as concerning the form of judgments cannot maintain the necessity of the possible matters of “A is A,” but only the necessary relation between A1 and A2 in the judgment “A is A.”29 To understand the significance of this statement, we have to remember that Fichte, like Kant, considers propositions as judgments, and therefore determines “A is A” as a formal judgment and maintains that logic in general is the formal theory of judging.30 Now, a judgment for Fichte is an act in which a judging agent ascribes a predicate to a subject in a certain way. The subject and predicate of a judgment are its matter and are in some way given to the judging agent, whereas the form of a judgment is the relation which the judging subject ascribes to the given predicate and the given subject. Thus, logic is the science of the possible and formal relations between any given matter, and is at the same time the science of the possible acts by which a logical agent can unite a predicate with a subject. And thus, maintaining the necessity of the form of “A is A” means at the same time a necessary relation between each A1 and A2 and a necessary act of each logical

27 28

29 30

is annihilated. For logical possibility is nothing but the formal relation of consistency of a subject and a predicate in a judgment or the compatibility of two notions. Thus, logical possibility already presupposes that some data are given to which the formal relation of consistency can be related. Therefore, logical possibility requires the existence of some given data as its material condition (aa 2, 77–79; Eckart Förster, Kant’s final synthesis. An essay on the Opus Postumum (Cambridge / London: Harvard University Press, 2000), 78). J.G. Fichte, “Zü richer Vorlesungen 1794,” inga. Vol. iv/3 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000), 26. This resembles the second step of Kant’s Only Possible Argument which should be a contribution for a better understanding of Fichte’s argument: Without any existing data, logical possibility is annihilated. But the negation of possibility is impossibility. Therefore, it is impossible that there is no possibility. Hence, it is necessary that there is possibility at all. Thus, according to Kant, it is necessary that at least something is possible. But this necessarily implies the existence of anything. The thought that nothing exists annihilates its very own possibility (aa 2, 79). Now, according to some critics such as Allen Wood, Kant illegitimately jumps from “It is necessary that anything exists” to the conclusion that “There must be something that necessarily exists,” which apparently is a fallacy (Allen Wood, Kant’s Moral Religion (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1970), 70). As we are going to see, this objection does not apply to Fichte’s argument. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 256 f. J.G. Fichte, “Nachschrift an Reinhold,” in ga. Vol. ii/5 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979), 458.

148

schick

agent: Every logical agent, once a certain content is given to it, necessarily identifies or equates this content with itself. Thereby, the necessity of this action has logical priority over the necessity of the relation, since necessity of the relation is only an implication of the necessary determination of the judging agent.31 Therefore, the original meaning of “A is A” for Fichte is the necessitation of any judging agent to identify or equate any of its given contents with itself. But this act obviously presupposes a given content and is therefore only hypothetically valid. This hypothetical validity is expressed by the formal character of “A is A,” which posits only the equality or identity as absolutely valid and not its content.32 Hence, as Fichte says in his Zürich Lectures, the true meaning of the formula “A is A” is “If A is, then A is equal to A.”33 In other words, A is only equal to A if A is posited. Fichte thus transforms the categorical judgement “A is A” into a hypothetical judgment, which consequent is only necessary if the antecedent is necessary. At first glance, this transformation seems rather unmotivated, especially from a modern logical point of view. For in its extensional interpretation, the proposition “A is A” is also true if no A exists (since the empty set is identical with the empty set).34 But Fichte’s transformation seems to be based on Kant’s critical objection to the ontological proof of God that the necessity of ascribing a predicate to a subject is based on the positing of the subject, and that positing is always contingent. If a predicate is ascribed to a subject by necessity, then, because of the hypothetical positing of the subject, this necessity is not absolute, but hypothetical. As long as the subject is not posited there is no necessity to posit the predicate.35 From this, Fichte draws the conclusion of the hypothetical validity of the law of identity itself, which needs a certain posited matter making it true when the law is applied to it.36 31

32 33 34

35

36

J.G. Fichte, “Zur Darstellung von Schellings Identitätssysteme 1801,” in ga. Vol. ii/5 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979), 495. J.G. Fichte, “Wissenschaftslehre 1811,” in ga. Vol. ii/12 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1999), 160. Günter Meckenstock, Vernünftige Einheit. Eine Untersuchung zur Wissenschaftslehre Fichtes (Frankfurt am Main et al.: Peter Lang, 1983), 16. Wilhelm Metz, Kategoriendeduktion und produktive Einbildungskraft in der theoretischen Philosophie Kants und Fichtes (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1991), 220. Fichte, Züricher Vorlesungen, 25. Historically considered, for many Aristotelian logicians such as Boethius of Dacia, Buridan, and Ockham, the proposition “A is A” is in fact false if no individual instantiation of A exists. For Nicholas Rescher, pure figments of the mind lack identity too, since they are not determined. A non-existent object thus lacks not only existence, but also identity. (Nicholas Rescher, “Nonexistents Then and Now,” Review of Metaphysics 57 (2003), 378.) KrV A 593f./ B 621f. This objection prohibits Kant’s pre-critical move from “It is necessary that anything exists” to the conclusion that “There must be something that necessarily exists.” Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 121.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

149

Deduction step 3: In step 2 of the deduction we have seen that although the law of identity as a necessitation of any judging agent is a necessary element of knowledge, its necessity is only hypothetical, as long as it presupposes a contingent matter to which it is applied and from which logic abstracts. Put differently, for its supposedly necessary act of identification the logical agent needs a given matter. But in order to be necessary, there must be at least one content of “A is A” which is absolutely necessary and at the same time by itself necessarily connected with the form of identity. For otherwise the application might still be contingent.37 The existence of this A has to imply that A = A.38 For if this necessary A did not by its bare existence imply that “A = A,” the connection even of the unconditional matter (A) and the unconditional form (A = A) would require a third element conditioning the unification of this matter and this form. Thus, to transform the conditioned or hypothetical necessity of the law of identity into an unconditional necessity, Fichte tries in the third step of his deduction of self-consciousness to find a matter that is necessarily posited by the judging agent and is by itself necessarily conjoined with the form of identity. This content Fichte calls the “original content” of the formula “A is A.”39 As a judgment, the judgment “A is A” implies an action of a judging agent, just as any other judgment does.40 Put differently, as a logical operation, the judgment “A is A” requires a logical agent performing this operation.41 The identification of A1 with A2 under the condition that A is posited presupposes an agent which identifies A1 and A2 according to the law “A is A.” Therefore, the judgment “A is A” implies a judging logical agent which establishes the relation of identity between A1 and A2. The things in the world do not say of themselves that they are identical, but it is a judging I that identifies the things with themselves according to the law “A is equal to A.”42 That it is the I who is judging is for Fichte an indisputable matter of consciousness. But this I is in the first place only the empirical I. Yet, for the following reasons, this empirical I cannot be the original content of “A is A” that Fichte is looking for: a. Fichte does not want to give an empirical or psychological foundation of logic.43 37 38 39 40 41 42 43

Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 121 f. Fichte, Züricher Vorlesungen, 26. Klotz, Selbstbewußtsein, 13. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 258. Bärbel Frischmann, Vom transzendentalen zum frühromantischen Idealismus. J.G. Fichte und Fr. Schlegel (Paderborn et al.: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2005), 45. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 257. J.G. Fichte, “Sonnenklarer Bericht an das grö ßere Publikum ü ber das eigentliche Wesen der neuesten Philosophie 1801,” in ga. Vol. i/7 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1988), 262.

150

schick

b.

The empirical I as the content of “A is A” is not an unconditional content, since as an empirical matter of fact it is contingent. c. There is no obvious reason why the empirical I is necessarily connected to the form of “A is A.”, since it is subject to change and time, and therefore is not identical with itself. d. Since the empirical I is not identical with itself, it cannot establish its own capacity to judge according to the law of identity. Starting from the problem that a purely empirical I could not establish the possibility of the simple judgment “A is A,” Fichte then proceeds from the psychological or empirical I to the necessity of a transcendental I. As a psychoempirical act of an empirical I, the identification of A1 with A2 proceeds in time. Within this temporal operation, the empirical I itself is subject to temporal change, which means that the empirical I at time t2 in which it identifies A2 as A1 is not identical with the I that was positing A1 at t1. Hence, since A1 as the content of empirical I1 is not identical with A2, which is a content of empirical I2, it seems to be identifying two different contents of different empirical I’s. At first glance, it might seem questionable to say that the content of the consciousness changes merely because the empirical consciousness itself changes. For the content is supposed to stay the same, whereas the fact that it is at one time the content of I1 and at the other time the content of I2 is only accidental. But for Fichte this objection would just be begging the question how it is possible that the content of two different consciousnesses can still be identical. For Fichte, the identification of A1 with A2 could only be asserted by an I that stays identical with itself in its act of identification. Only an I that is identical with itself can make possible the identification of an A-subject with an A-predicate.44 But as we have already seen, identity is not some property of entities, but is the result of an act of the I in question. In other words, identity is not a relation appearing on different contents of consciousness, but is the result of a mental operation. From the transcendental point of view therefore, “A is A” is not just a matter of fact, but the result of an operation of the I.45 But as we have seen, in order for this I to be able to identify something with something it must be identical with itself. Thus, the I appears in three different positions: as the subject-I and the object-I, which must be identical, but also as the agent which brings about its own identity. Yet the I which identifies itself as itself must also be identical with itself. From this, Fichte deduces his idea of the absolute I, which 44 45

Christian Hanewald, “Absolutes Sein und Existenzgewißheit des Ich,” Fichte-Studien 20 (2003): 21. Fichte, Züricher Vorlesungen, 23 f.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

151

can be expressed either by the formula “The I posits itself” or by “I=I,” since the positing of the absolute I means nothing other than the positing of (its) identity. Therefore, there is no difference between matter and form in the judgment “I is I,” since the absolute I as the matter of this judgment is not different from the form of this judgment. The absolute I is the original content of the law of identity. Therefore, contrary to Henrich’s position,46 not only is the I the most eminent token of identity, but identity is only for and through the I. “I is equal to I” is not a token of “A is equal to A” but the condition of its possibility.47 Not only are all cases of identity posited or recognized by the I, but their identity would not even be possible without the I.48 The identity of the I with itself constitutes every identical relation, including identity itself. For Fichte, only this absolute I can function as the unconditioned ground of all knowledge. For this ground has to be absolute identity without any difference. And only an absolute I as self-consciousness can be understood as pure identity, since its act of identification is not an activity performed by an agent different from this activity or the identification of two entities or actions which are different from the relation of identity or the act of identifying. Rather, the absolute I identifies itself merely as the act of self-identification. If the absolute ground of knowledge was anything other than this self-referential identity, it would imply difference, comparison, and again identity. For in order to be known (which is a precondition at least of the immanent ground of knowledge),49 we would have to identify, discriminate, and compare its different elements, so for our knowledge it would presuppose these acts as its conditions and therefore would not be an unconditional ground of knowledge.

4

Solution to Henrich’s Objections

So far, we have determined the absolute I or absolute self-consciousness as the act of identifying the act of identifying with itself as the act of identifying. Admittedly, this seems a rather abstract determination, but this abstractness 46 47 48 49

Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 463. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 261. Fichte, Ueber den Begriff der wl, 140; Fichte, Züricher Vorlesungen, 24. “Being” in the Foundations of the Science of Knowledge means being posited as knowable, and there can be no other sort of being the Science of Knowledge knows of. Because the positing of an entity which is not or even cannot be known would be a contradiction in itself, as it would be posited by the I and at the same time not posited by the I. J.G. Fichte, “Vorlesung ü ber Logik und Metaphysikss 1797,” In ga. Vol. iv/1 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1977), 188.

152

schick

is due to the fact that the absolute I must be the absolute ground of knowledge which excludes any intrinsic differentiation. However, by trying to answer Henrich’s objections against Fichte’s concept of the absolute I, we will now try to characterize this abstract concept a little more precisely. a. Henrich is entirely correct in maintaining that Fichte determines the absolute I as some pure activity upon itself. In many places, Fichte emphasizes that the I has to be conceptualized as a pure activity.50 The I is a “pure activity,”51 the product and the agent of which are nothing other than this very activity.52 That means that the positing I is not an entity with the power to posit an I but only the fact-act (“Tathandlung”) of selfpositioning.53 However, Henrich is wrong to maintain that the conception of the I as pure activity cannot explain the fact that the I by positing itself is at the same time recognizing itself, which is necessary to speak of selfconsciousness. Because the positing I posits nothing other than the act of identifying the act of identifying with itself. The being of the I is nothing other than this self-identification. The act upon itself which is the positing of the I cannot be understood as anything other than an act of self-identification. But this act obviously has an epistemic character. To be able to identify something with something, the I must be a consciousness, and in identifying itself with itself it is a self-consciousness.54 Therefore, Fichte’s different renamings of this action in his later Sciences of Knowledge – e.g., as a freely caused intellectual intuition,55 as an action looking at itself,56 or as an “active looking” (“Thätiges Hinschauen”57) – do not signify a conceptual change, as Henrich proposes, but only different verbal attempts to clarify terminologically his original insight about the absolute I. b. Concerning Henrich’s later objection taken from Hölderlin that self-consciousness signifies a relation, and that even the relation of identity im50 51 52

53 54 55 56 57

Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 258 f. J.G. Fichte, “Das System der Sittenlehre 1798 nach den Principien der Wissenschaftslehre,” in ga. Vol. i/5 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1977), 53. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 393; 259. J.G. Fichte, “Versuch einer neuen Darstellung der Wissenschaftslehre,” in ga. Vol. i/4 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1970), 200. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 259. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 257. Fichte, Versuch einer neuen Darstellung, 191; 276. Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 347. Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 345. J.G. Fichte, “Die Bestimmung des Menschen,” in ga. Vol. i/6 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1981) 238.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

153

plies difference, Fichte could argue as follows: Whereas it is true that in opposition to Hölderlin’s Being Fichte’s I has a relational character, we are not allowed to understand the subject-I and the object-I as two entities between which the relation of identity occurs. Rather, the I as the autonomous relation of identity is identical with its relata (in other words, form and matter are identical). Therefore, Fichte says in his Natural Right 1796 that the relation of identity is preponderant to its relata.58 That is, the absolute I as the principle of the early Science of Knowledge is an autonomous relation. The I is not a substrate of the relation of identity, but the identity itself; more precisely, the I is nothing but self-constituting identity. The identity of the I therefore does not presuppose the idea of two different relata between which a relation occurs. The relata are only said to express the empty place of the subject of the relation, as Fichte tells his readers in his System of Ethics.59 “I am I” or “I is equal to I” is only an expression for the autonomous relation of identity (which, as we already know, is an action).60 Thus, from Fichte’s perspective, both Henrich and Hölderlin misconceive the nature of identity, namely as some relational property occurring on all entities, including the I. But what Fichte tries to demonstrate is that identity is nothing other than the original fact-act of the I, the pure act of identifying the act of self-identification with itself.

5

Fichte’s Theory of Absolute Reflection

Henrich’s objections in both “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht” and “Der Grund des Bewutßtseins” are based on his interpretation of Fichte’s theory of selfconsciousness as a refutation of the reflection theory. In this section I will try to show that Fichte does not refute this model, but tries to modify it without falling back into the flaws of his predecessors. To this end, I will once again turn to Fichte’s interpretation of the law of identity. According to his Review of Bardili the judgment “A is A” – in opposition to Bardili – cannot mean just the infinite repeatability of the positing of A in the sense of “A is A is A is A ad infinitum.” For the ability to perform the repetition of A already presupposes the identification of A1 with A2, A3, …, and Ainf. Otherwise one would not be able to recognize the position of A1, A2, A3, …, 58 59 60

J.G. Fichte, “Grundlage des Naturrechts nach Principien der Wissenschaftslehre 1796/97,” in ga. Vol. i/3 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1966), 334. Fichte, System der Sittenlehre 1798, 56. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 257.

154

schick

Ainf as a repetition. Therefore, at least according to Fichte, “A is A” is not to be understood as the mere repetition of A, but as an act of reflection in which A1 stands for the positing of A by the I. The copula between A1 and A2 expresses the act of reflection on the positing of A1 in the I. A2 is thus identical with A1, but reflected as being posited as A in the I. Fichte therefore determines the judgment of identity as the reflection of A into itself.61 Thus, Fichte understands the act of identification as an act of reflection. Now, since the absolute I is nothing other than the act of identifying, the identification of the I with itself seems to be nothing other than the reflection of the I into itself, which means the act by which the I is posited as I in the I. Without an identical consciousness that is at the same time self-reflexive in this sense, the law of identity would have no validity.62 More precisely, every act of identification implies the self-reflection of the I in itself. The absolute act of the I consists in the act of the I’s reflection in itself. This reflection is the same act by which the I as self-consciousness is constituted.63 The relation of identity comes to the world only by means of the reflection of the I or its returning into itself.64 In accordance with these considerations, Fichte explains in his Report 1806 that it was the intention of his early Foundations to show that the form of the I which is the absolute form of reflexivity is the root and basis of all knowledge.65 For everything which is known has to be posited and known as posited as itself. Hence we see that Fichte does not refute the reflection theory, but rather tries to elucidate what has to be thought in it, namely an act of absolute or autonomous reflection. This reflection is brought to reality by itself in the factact. Identity therefore is nothing other than the return of the I to itself. The I consists in nothing other than its being for itself: the I is only for the I.66 The action therefore is being for itself and, as a consequence, is an action that has to return to itself. The activity of the I consists only in the return to itself.67 Fichte maintained this idea throughout his whole intellectual career

61 62 63 64 65 66 67

J.G. Fichte, “Neue Bearbeitung der Wissenschaftslehre 1800,” in ga. Vol. ii/5 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979), 338. Henrich, Der Grund im Bewußtsein, 501. J.G. Fichte, “Bardili Recension 1800,” in ga. Vol. i/6 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1981), 447. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 257. Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 245 J.G. Fichte, “Bericht ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre 1806,” in ga. Vol. ii/10 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1994), 29. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 260. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 393.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

155

despite other modifications of his Science of Knowledge: In 1808 Fichte still writes that the absolute I is not the result of a specific reflection, but reflectivity as such.68 In his New Revision of the Science of Knowledge (1800) he determines the I as the “original return into itself” (“das ursprüngliche Einkehren in sich selbst.”69) According to Second Introduction to Nova Methodo (1798/99), the I is an activity returning to itself.70 According to his Attempt for a New Presentation of the Science of Knowledge (1797/98), the notion of the I amounts to nothing more than reflexivity as a returning to itself.71 In his Lectures on Logic and Metaphysics (1797) he tells his students that the notion of I expresses an operation of the mind returning to itself and finding itself.72 And in 1800, Reinhold writes to Bardili that one has to understand pure reflection as a pure activity under the form of returning to itself and that the I is nothing other than this activity.73 As a result, Fichte does not reject the reflection theory, as Henrich assumes, but rather modifies it in two essential aspects. First, the act of reflection is not an act besides the act of being conscious of objects, but is present in each act of object-consciousness (as Fichte says, it is even presupposed in the act of counterpositing). Second, the act of reflection is not the act of an entity, power, or faculty, but is nothing other than the absolute I as the self-constituting activity of the act of identifying the act of identifying as the act of identifying.74

6

Conclusion

According to Henrich, Kant was not the first to propose the reflection theory of self-consciousness, which Fichte then criticized, but was the first to outline its structures. Now that hopefully we have shown that Fichte did not refute the reflection theory but tried to clarify it, we can also determine the relation between Fichte’s absolute I and Kant’s transcendental unity of apperception. The similarity between Fichte’s deduction of the absolute I and Kant’s deduc-

68 69 70 71 72 73 74

J.G. Fichte, “Seit d. 1. April. 1808,” in ga. Vol. ii/12 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1999), 200. Fichte, Neue Bearbeitung der wl 1800, 338. Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 337. Fichte, Versuch einer neuen Darstellung, 272; Fichte, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, 345. Fichte, Vorlesung ü ber Logik und Metaphysik, 195. J.G. Fichte in zeitgenössischen Rezensionen, edd. Erich Fuchs, Wilhelm G. Jacobs, and Walter Schieche. Vol. 1,2 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1995), 294. Therefore, reflection in the strictest sense is the thinking of thinking itself. Rückerinnerungen, Antworten, Fragen; ga ii, 5, 111; Nachschrift an Reinhold, 459.

156

schick

tion of the I as the transcendental unity of apperception, which is according to Kant the highest point on which all operations of the mind and all logical operations depend, is obvious.75 This I, according to Kant, links the given multiplicity to a unitary connection – according to the logical forms of judgment.76 But there is an important difference between Kant and Fichte. According to Kant, the synthetic unity of apperception connects the given manifold, and within this very act of unification it constitutes the consciousness of its own identity; therefore, the analytic unity of apperception (the consciousness of the unity of the I itself) is a result of the synthetic unity of apperception. As we have seen, however, Fichte turns this relation upside down. Only an I which consists in nothing other than the act of self-identification is able to constitute a unitary connection of a given manifold. Hence, for Fichte the synthetic unity presupposes as its moment an analytic unity, which for Fichte is the absolute I.77 The absolute I is necessarily presupposed as the ground of all consciousness.78 However, this is more a methodological difference than a difference in the understanding of self-consciousness. For Fichte agrees with Kant that the absolute I as such cannot be an object of consciousness.79 In order for the fact-act to become a possible object of consciousness, the antithetical action of positing a non-I is as necessary as the synthesis of the I and the non-I.80 Only in this synthesizing act can the I become an object of consciousness, which, as Kant makes clear, already presupposes the consciousness of a non-I. But by subor75 76 77 78 79

80

Kant, KrV B134. Hanewald, “Absolutes Sein,” 15. J.G. Fichte, “Logik und Metaphysik ws 1796/97,” in ga. Vol. iv/3 (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000), 94. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 255. Therefore, many interpreters of Fichte have serious doubts that the absolute I of the Science of Knowledge already has the character of self-consciousness – in contrast to the determined I of the third principle. Cf. e.g., Christian Klotz, “Die Methode des Zugangs zum Prinzip in Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre ‚nova methodo‘ und der Transzendentalphilosophie des frühen Schelling.” In Jürgen Stolzenberg (Hrsg.), Kant und der Frühidealismus, Hamburg 2007, 233–247, 240. The fact-act (“Thathandlung”; Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 255) constituting the absolute I, so the argument runs, cannot be understood as self-awareness as it is an identity without any difference. Cf. e.g., Hans Radermacher, Fichtes Begriff des Absoluten (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1970), 24. Dorothea Wildenburg, Ist der Existenzialismus ein Idealismus? Transzendentalphilosophische Analyse der Selbstbewußtseinstheorie des frühen Sartre aus der Perspektive der Wissenschaftslehre Fichtes (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2003), 57; 247. Peter Baumanns, Fichtes ursprüngliches System. Sein Standort zwischen Kant und Hegel (StuttgartBad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1972), 44. Christian Klotz, Selbstbewußtsein und praktische Identität. Eine Untersuchung über Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2002), 108. Fichte, Die Bestimmung des Menschen, 236. Fichte, Grundlage der Wissenschaftslehre, 255.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

157

dinating the analytic act to the synthetic act Kant confounds the logical order with the epistemic order, that is, confuses what is first for us with what is first in itself. In contrast, in his early science of knowledge, Fichte wants to give a transcendental deduction of the necessary moments or actions constituting self-consciousness. In this logical or transcendental sense, the analytic act (or the fact-act) is the necessary condition for the possibility of the synthetic act constituting the consciousness of the I as an object, whereas “phenomenologically,” the first act is never without the other acts. “Phenomenologically,” all consciousness is always determined and is never absolute consciousness.81 For these methodological reasons, Fichte also reverses Kant’s arrangement of the determinations of reflections and the categories. For Fichte, the acts constituting the I as an object of self-consciousness (thesis, antithesis, synthesis) are correlated with the logical acts of reflection, abstraction, and comparison, which Kant treats as an appendix to the transcendental analytics. But for Fichte, they obviously precede the categories. By reversing Kant’s order, Fichte wants to give a true transcendental deduction of the categories: the categories are in a way determinations of these very acts. As a result, he can show not only that the empiricist conception of the I has to be undergirded by a transcendental I, but also that the actions that, even for the empiricist, are supposed to be generating the categories (namely, reflection, abstraction, comparison) have to be understood as transcendental actions.

Bibliography Ameriks, Karl: “Kant and the Self: A Retrospective.” In Figuring the Self. Subject, Absolute and Others in Classical German Philosophy, edited by David E. Klemm and Günter Zöller, 55–72. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997. Baumanns, Peter. Fichtes ursprüngliches System. Sein Standort zwischen Kant und Hegel. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1972. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre 1794.” In J.G. Fichte – Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, edited by Reinhardt Lauth et al. (= ga). Vol. i/2. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1965. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre 1794/95.” In ga. Vol. i/2. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1965. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Grundlage des Naturrechts nach Principien der Wissenschaftslehre 1796/97.” In ga. Vol. i/3. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1966.

81

Fichte, Versuch 1797/98, 214.

158

schick

Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Versuch einer neuen Darstellung der Wissenschaftslehre 1797/98.” In ga. Vol. i/4. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1970. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Das System der Sittenlehre 1798 nach den Principien der Wissenschaftslehre.” In ga. Vol. i/5. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1977. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Bardili Recension 1800.” In ga. Vol. i/6. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1981. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Die Bestimmung des Menschen.” In ga. Vol. i/6. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1981. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Sonnenklarer Bericht an das größere Publikum über das eigentliche Wesen der neuesten Philosophie 1801.” In ga. Vol. i/7. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1988. Fichte, Johann, Gottlieb. “Eigne Meditationen über ElementarPhilosophie.” In ga. Vol. ii/3. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1971. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Nachschrift an Reinhold.” In ga. Vol. ii/5. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Neue Bearbeitung der Wissenschaftslehre 1800.” In ga. Vol. ii/5. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Zur Darstellung von Schellings Identitätssysteme 1801.” In ga. Vol. ii/5. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1979. Fichte. Johann Gottlieb. “Bericht ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre 1806.” In ga. Vol. ii/10. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1994. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Seit d. 1. April. 1808.” In ga. Vol. ii/11. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1998. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Wissenschaftslehre 1811.” In ga. Vol. ii/12. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1999. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Vom Unterschiede zwischen der Logik und der Philosophie selbst (Logik ii) (ws 1812/13).” In ga. Vol. ii/14. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: FrommannHolzboog, 2006. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Vorlesung über Logik und Metaphysik ss 1797.” In ga. Vol. iv/1. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1977. Fichte. Johann Gottlieb. “Züricher Vorlesungen über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre.” In ga. Vol. iv/3. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Logik und Metaphysik ws 1796/97.” In ga. Vol. iv/3. StuttgartBad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. “Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre, gehalten zu Jena im Winter 1798–1799. Nachschrift Krause.” In ga. Vol. iv/3. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 2000. Fuchs, Erich, Jacobs, Wilhelm G., and Schieche, Walter, edd. J.G. Fichte in zeitgenössischen Rezensionen. Vol. 1,2. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1995.

from being reflexive to absolute reflection

159

Förster, Eckart. Kant’s final synthesis. An essay on the Opus Postumum. Cambridge / London: Harvard University Press, 2000. Frank, Manfred. “Subjectivity and Individuality: Survey of a Problem.” In Figuring the Self. Subject, Absolute and Others in Classical German Philosophy, edited by David E. Klemm and Günter Zöller, 3–30. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997. Frischmann, Bärbel. Vom transzendentalen zum frühromantischen Idealismus. J.G. Fichte und Fr. Schlegel. Paderborn et al.: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2005. Hanewald, Christian. “Absolutes Sein und Existenzgewißheit des Ich”. Fichte-Studien 20 (2003): 13–25. Henrich, Dieter. “Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht.” In Dies Ich, das viel besagt. Fichtes Einsicht nachdenken, 1–49. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2019. Henrich, Dieter. Der Grund im Bewußtsein. Untersuchungen zu Hölderlins Denken (1794– 1795). Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1992. Henrich, Dieter. “Eine philosophische Konzeption entsteht. Hölderlins Denken in Jena.” Hölderlin-Jahrbuch 28 (1992/93): 1–28. Hölderlin, Friedrich. “Urteil und Sein (1795).” In Sämtliche Werke und Briefe in drei Bänden, edited by Jochen Schmidt. Vol. 2. Frankfurt am Main: dkv, 1994. Kant, Immanuel. Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Hamburg: Meiner. Klotz, Christian. Selbstbewußtsein und praktische Identität. Eine Untersuchung über Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2002. Longuenesse, Beatrice. “Two uses of ‘I’ as subject?” In Immunity to Error through Misidentification, New Essays, edited by Simon Prosser and François Récanati, 81–104. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Meckenstock, Günter: Vernünftige Einheit. Eine Untersuchung zur Wissenschaftslehre Fichtes. Frankfurt am Main et al.: Peter Lang, 1983. Metz, Wilhelm: Kategoriendeduktion und produktive Einbildungskraft in der theoretischen Philosophie Kants und Fichtes. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1991. Neuhouser, Federick. Fichte’s Theory of Subjectivity. Cambridge et al.: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Radermacher, Hans. Fichtes Begriff des Absoluten. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1970. Rescher, Nicholas. “Nonexistents Then and Now,”Review of Metaphysics 57 (2003): 359– 381. Schäfer, Rainer. Johann Gottlieb Fichtes ‘Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre’ von 1794. Darmstadt: wbg, 2006. Schrader, Wolfgang H. Empirisches und absolutes Ich. Zur Geschichte des Begriffs Leben in der Philosophie J.G. Fichtes. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann Holzboog, 1972. Wildenburg, Dorothea. Ist der Existenzialismus ein Idealismus? Transzendentalphiloso-

160

schick

phische Analyse der Selbstbewußtseinstheorie des frühen Sartre aus der Perpsektive der Wissenschaftslehre Fichtes. Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2003. Wood, Allen. Kant’s Moral Religion. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1970. Zöller, Günter. “Fichte’s Original Insight. Dieter Henrich’s Pioneering Piece Half A Century Later.” In Debates in Nineteenth Century Philosophy. Essential Readings and Contemporary Responses, edited by Kristin Gjesdal. New York: Routledge, 2016.

8 The First Principle of the Wissenschaftslehre and the Logical Principle of Identity Esma Kayar

It is also the consideration of myself that provides me with other notions of metaphysics, such as cause, effect, action, similarity, etc., and even those of logic and ethics. g.w. leibniz1

∵ Abstract The first principle of Fichte’s philosophy, the Wissenschaftslehre, is “I am,” whereas the logical principle of identity is “A is A.” The relationship of Fichte’s philosophy to logic helps us understand the relation between the principles of these two disciplines. The first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre as an Act (Thathandlung) is the ground of consciousness and therefore renders logic possible as a science. Even though logic is grounded on the Wissenschaftslehre, the form of logic is used by the latter to comprehend itself. The difference between logic and the Wissenschaftslehre consists in the fact that the former merely supplies a form and the latter contains both the form and the content. Logic arises from the Wissenschaftslehre through the free acts termed “abstraction” and “reflection.” In the Wissenschaftslehre, the form of logical propositions as equality, affirmation and substitution, are derived from the primordial act of the self-positing of the I.

Keywords Fichte – logic – the principle of identity – abstraction

1 Leibniz, ag, 188.

© Esma Kayar, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_009

162 1

kayar

Historical Context

The historical tradition that differentiates between the principles of philosophy and the principles of logic before J.G. Fichte’s time is full of obscurities. Aristotle’s well-known principle of non-contradiction was a principle employed in the fields of both philosophy and logic, and the Aristotelian manner of thinking became extremely prevalent during the middle ages. Descartes’ search to find a clear and distinct starting point for philosophy, however, gave rise to another approach to the problem. Descartes did not set much store on dialectics, the logic of his time, disdaining its principles and complaining that it did not furnish knowledge in the form of principles.2 The situation became inverted for him concerning the principle of his own philosophy: “I think, therefore I am.” Descartes’ new conception of a principle of philosophy accentuates the clash between the first principle of his philosophy, which especially aims to establish the first and highest principle, and the logical principle of noncontradiction. At the end of §1 of the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre, Fichte acknowledges that the first principle of his philosophy, that is “I am,” can be traced back to Descartes’s first principle. (gwl ga i/2: 262, sw i: 99) Although there are passages where Descartes formulates his first principle as “I am, I exist,” Descartes’s “I” is not able to exist without the hallmark of the cogito, unlike Fichte’s “I am.”3 It may be relatively straightforward to detect the tension between the logical principle of non-contradiction and any principle of philosophy. However, things become more complicated when we come to the principle of identity. There is a debate as to whether the principle of identity can be traced back to Parmenides. This could be considered appropriate if we think of the principle of identity as a principle of philosophy. But what about the principle of identity as a principle of logic? Our contemporary understanding of logic is wholly accustomed to assuming the principle of identity as the first principle of logic in the form of “A=A” or “A is A.” Fichte employs the principle of identity as a principle of logic. But before Leibniz, the principle of identity was not widely treated as one of the first principles of logic. Even in Leibniz’s works, it is not explicitly clear whether this principle is to be considered as the first principle of logic. Leibniz necessarily maintains that the principles of reason are deployed 2 Descartes, at, ixb, 13. Descartes modifies his idea in the conversation with Burman. See. Descartes, at, v, 175. 3 Bearing in mind that there are several periods in Fichte’s career, and various formulations of the first principle in his works, I will limit myself here to the first Jena Wissenschaftslehre, and to the philosophical formulation “I am” that it contains.

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

163

by metaphysics, mathematics, and logic.4 He reduces all the principles of reason to either the principle of non-contradiction or the principle of identity. Accordingly, Leibniz views the principle of identity as a first principle of logic. Descartes’s problem of the clash between the first principle of philosophy and that of logic is not at all an issue for Leibniz, since he regards the first principles of his philosophy to be simultaneously the first principles of his logic. However, Leibniz fails to draw a clear distinction between the principle of non-contradiction and the principle of identity. Philosophy in Germany after Leibniz became the scene of a struggle regarding the status of precisely these two principles. Kant’s doctoral thesis was therefore a challenge to the Wolffian style of a reduction to the principle of the non-contradiction by offering as a twin principle the principle of identity. (aa, 1:389) Yet Kant himself did not subsequently pursue this path. For Kant in his critical period, general logic is a science on its own and should not be conflated with transcendental logic. He clearly distinguishes the syntheticity of his own philosophy, which is mainly comprised of the transcendental aesthetic and transcendental logic, from the analyticity of general logic. Even though Kant objects to many aspects of Leibniz’s philosophy, he follows Leibniz in considering both the principle of non-contradiction and identity as the principles of general logic in this period. On the other hand, like Descartes, Kant puts forward a supreme principle for his so-called synthetic philosophy: “Every object stands under the necessary conditions of the synthetic unity of the manifold of intuition in a possible experience.” (KrV, B 197) However, strictly speaking, Kant did not consider this principle as the first principle of his philosophical system. Kant’s use of the concepts and principles of general logic to explain his transcendental logic gave rise to Maimon’s critique.5 There is the problem of a dependence between form and content in the crux of Maimon’s argument. He queries how Kant can justify the derivation of the categories of transcendental logic, which is related to the content, from the table of judgments, which is related to the form of logic. I maintain that the main motive for Fichte in determining the relationship between the principles of philosophy and logic is precisely this issue of the dependence of transcen4 Leibniz, L, 696. 5 See Salomon Maimon, Versuch über die Transzendentalphilosophie, 2004, pp. 70–73; 393–397 (English translation by N. Midgley, H. Somers-Hall et al., Essay on Transcendental Philosophy, Continuum 2010). F. Beiser considers that Reinhold was earlier than Maimon about maintaining that pure logic ought to be derived from transcendental logic. He thinks that it is much more likely that Maimon had a greater influence upon Fichte than Reinhold in this respect because Maimon criticizes traditional logic in detail and devotes almost all his later years to the development of a new logic. See Frederick C. Beiser, The Fate of Reason, 1987, p. 311.

164

kayar

dental logic on general logic. I also argue that the skeptic Schulze’s criticism of Reinhold in his Aenesidemus is the second motive behind Fichte’s determination. Fichte, for whom philosophy must be a science and have first principles, was deeply interested in Reinhold’s first philosophical principle of consciousness: “In consciousness, the subject distinguishes the representation from the subject and the object and relates the representation to both.”6 But Reinhold’s first principle, which views representation as the first act of philosophy, was severely attacked by Schulze. Two points are important here in Schulze’s criticism of Reinhold. The first of these is the subordination of Reinhold’s first principle to the principle of non-contradiction, which in turn is a principle of logic. According to Schulze, Reinhold wanted to determine the principle of consciousness as the highest principle of philosophy, but it cannot carry out this function because it is governed by the principle of non-contradiction.7 As Fichte states, Reinhold had already faced this challenge before and replied that the principle of consciousness is subject to the principle of non-contradiction; however, not in the sense that is determined by it, but as a law that it is not allowed to contravene.8 Fichte interprets Reinhold’s defense that the logical principle of non-contradiction does not have a real or material validity, but merely a formal one. Interestingly, Schulze was well aware of Reinhold’s defense of the principle of consciousness, but he was still not satisfied with Reinhold’s explanation.9 Fichte too was not satisfied with Reinhold’s defense that his first principle is not materially subject to the principle of non-contradiction. This led him to present his first principle in a very meticulous argument to protect it against skeptic attacks.10 A second key point is that the concepts of distinguishing and relating in the formula of Reinhold’s first principle are highly ambiguous in nature. However, it appears that this very ambiguity opened up a new path for Fichte to find a materially valid first principle for the whole of philosophy. Fichte’s brief comments in his Review of Aenesidemus suggest that he already had a sketch of a first principle in mind that is higher than Reinhold’s principle of conscious6 7 8

9 10

Karl Leonhard Reinhold, Beyträge zur Berichtigung bisheriger Missverständnisse der Philosophen, Jena 1790, p. 167. Emphasis added. G.E. Schulze, Aenesidemus, Berlin, 1911, p. 60. Karl Leonhard Reinhold, Über das Fundament des philosophischen Wissens, Felix Meiner Verlag, 1978, p. 85. (English translation by G. di Giovanni and H.S. Harris, Between Kant and Hegel, Hackett Publishing 2000). Schulze, ibid, 62 footnote. Cf. Silvan Imhof, Einsturz und Neubau: Fichtes erste Grundsatzkonzeption als Antwort auf den Skeptizismus, Fichte-Studien 43 (2016), p. 63.

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

165

ness, and which furnishes a validity for the principle of identity and opposition: “Indeed, how could it be the case, for the very indeterminacy and indeterminability of these concepts [that is distinguishing and relation] point to a higher principle that is to be sought, to a real validity of the principle of identity and opposition; the concept of distinguishing and relation only allows of being determined by means of the concepts of identity and opposition.” (bwl ga i/2:44, sw i: 6) Let us therefore now turn to Fichte’s conception of logic.

2

The Forerunner of the Grundlage: Logic as a Science in Über den Begriff

In his 1794 work Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre, Fichte briefly explains his understanding of logic and how logic relates to the Wissenschaftslehre. Here Fichte asserts that philosophy determines the space of all possible sciences. Since logic is a science, it is also determined by philosophy; yet the relation of logic to philosophy needs to be clarified because both determine the form of the sciences. The difference between logic and the Wissenschaftslehre consists in the fact that the former merely supplies the form and the latter both the form and the content. Logic arises from the content of the Wissenschaftslehre by a free act called “abstraction.” Logic is in need of a content together with its form, due to its propositional structure, and it finds this content in the Wissenschaftslehre as pure form. Logic gives to this content its own form, and thereby once again this form-content composite takes the general form of the Wissenschaftslehre by an act called “reflection.” (bwl ga i/2: 138, sw i: 66–67) In order to better understand the act of abstraction, which is often easier to grasp than reflection, I suggest looking at it in terms of concreteness and separation. The act of abstraction is a form of separating or “distinguishing”. In the Review of Aenesidemus, it is one of the above-mentioned two concepts that Fichte uses to determine through identity and opposition the content of the Wissenschaftslehre. (bwl ga i/2:44, sw i: 6) This content of the Wissenschaftslehre can be interpreted concretely when we start to undertake the act of abstraction. For Kant in the first Critique, general logic examines the truth of knowledge with regard to its form by disregarding the content. (KrV, B 84) It is naturally hard to conceive the precedence of form over content in a search for truth. How can we claim truth only through its form when there is no content to this form? I think Fichte’s explanation of abstraction sheds important light on this difficulty. If the logical form is a result of the act of abstraction, we need something to be abstracted on a ground that is preferably concrete and has a content. We can see here the appearance of Maimon’s criticism of Kant con-

166

kayar

cerning deducing the categories from the forms of judgment, in which there is a dependence of a logic of content on a logic of form.11 Because of this interdependence, Fichte appears to place the Wissenschaftslehre, which already has a content, at a higher level than logic, making the latter in turn dependent on the former. Logic is therefore deduced, determined, and conditioned by the Wissenschaftslehre itself, which serves as the foundation for the former. The actual content of the Wissenschaftslehre furnishes this foundation. This content provides the validity for the propositions of logic. Prior to the Wissenschaftslehre, we could not presuppose the validity of the propositions of logic because we needed a content that was capable of performing logical acts scientifically. Without the application of logical forms to a part of the Wissenschaftslehre, logic would be a science of building castles in the air. (bwl ga i/2:139, sw i: 68) For Fichte, this signifies that logical consistency without a content would not be able to accede to the level of a science. Fichte repeatedly states that we are unable to separate the acts of abstraction and reflection from one another. We require the act of abstraction, which freely produces the form of logic, for the act of reflection. Prima facie, it is not entirely clear how we should understand the concept of reflection. In modern philosophy, for example, reflection played a central role in describing the act of thinking and the subject “I.” In this regard, the explanation of the “thinking I” in The Port-Royal Logic using the process of reflection, as well as Leibniz’s pronouncements on reflection, may both furnish clues for this: Suppose, for example, I reflect that I am thinking, and, in consequence, that I am the I who thinks. In my idea of the I who thinks, I can consider a thinking thing without noticing that it is I, although in me the I and the one who thinks are one and the same thing.12 Those who know these necessary truths are those that are properly called rational animals, and their souls are called minds. These souls are capable of performing reflective acts, and capable of considering what is called “I”, substance, soul, mind – in brief, immaterial things and immaterial truths. And that is what makes us capable of the sciences or of demonstrative knowledge.13

11 12 13

See Maimon, ibid, pp. 393–397. Antoine Arnauld and Pierre Nicole, La Logique ou l’Art de Penser, Gallimard, 1992, p. 49 (English translation J.V. Buroker, Logic or the Art of Thinking, tran., Cambridge up, 2003). Leibniz, ag, 209.

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

167

It is also through the knowledge of necessary truths and through their abstractions that we rise to reflective acts, which enable us to think of that which is called “I” and enable us to consider that this or that is in us. And thus, in thinking of ourselves, we think of being, of substance, of the simple and of the composite, of the immaterial and of God himself, by conceiving that that which is limited in us is limitless in him. And these reflective acts furnish the principal objects of our reasonings.14 For the sake of clarity, reflection may simply be described as thinking upon a particular thing or object, which brings us to the very heart of the problem. At this point, it is worth recalling Reinhold’s defense of his first principle, against the accusation that this principle is subject to the principles of logic. In his 1794 Review of Aenesidemus, Fichte paraphrases Reinhold’s argument in the following manner: “one cannot think about the laws of thought save in conformity with these laws; a reflection on the principle of consciousness is subject, with respect to its form, to the logical principle of contradiction just as any other possible reflection.” (ra ga i/2:43, sw i:5)15 It is likely that Fichte had in mind these lines when propounding the ideas about the act of reflection described in the concurrent text Über den Begriff to characterize the relationship between logic and the Wissenschaftslehre. Reinhold seems to equate the laws of thought and the laws of logic. These rules are necessary for an act of reflection either as a law of thought or a law of logic. Reflection is not an act used by Fichte exclusively in his treatment of logic. The act which renders the Wissenschaftslehre as a science is also a free act of reflection. The content of any possible Wissenschaftslehre are the acts of the human mind. Interestingly, before the advent of the Wissenschaftslehre (similarly with logic), Fichte says that the acts of the mind also have forms that are not separated from their content. However, by means of the act of reflection, the necessary act of the intellect, which in itself is already form, becomes incorporated as content into a new form. This higher kind of reflection generates the science of the Wissenschaftslehre. The general character of reflection in Über den Begriff appears to provide a second form to something that is already

14 15

Leibniz, ag, 217. English translation, J.G. Fichte, Review of Aenesidemus, in: Between Kant and Hegel: Texts in the Development of Post-Kantian Idealism, Translated, with Introductions, by George di Giovanni and H.S. Harris Indianaolis/Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2000, p. 139. I consider that the act of reflection is related to the logical principle of noncontradiction in Fichte’s first Wissenschaftslehre, but I will not analyze this principle in this article.

168

kayar

constituted. With this act of reflection, the mind becomes conscious of its own mode of acting. Although the Wissenschaftslehre comes into being as a science, via a free act like logic, the object of the Wissenschaftslehre is a set of necessary acts, whereas the object of the other sciences is itself a free act. (bwl ga i/2:141, sw i:71–72) In this case, the object of logic is also expected to be a free act. Here we encounter a problem like a Russian doll. The acts of the human mind have both content and form in themselves, and the Wissenschaftslehre, which is formed by these acts, has both form and content in itself. Moreover, the Wissenschaftslehre gives a form to the particular sciences, like in the field of logic. In that case, however, why do we need a third form that passes from logic to the sciences? In my opinion, two possible responses may be given: 1. Since it aims to be a science itself, the Wissenschaftslehre requires the form of logic16 to be able to be understood as a science, because it is logic that provides form to the sciences. This means that we have to employ the rules of logic when thinking about the foundational principles of the Wissenschaftslehre. This is one of the well-known “circles” that we encounter in Fichte’s philosophy. 2. The inseparability of content and form in the Wissenschaftslehre points to a situation in which the subject and object are the same. In other words, we require the acts of abstraction and reflection of logic to create judgments separating the subject from the object. Yet we need the form of logic for this separation. We can now examine the relationship between the principles of the Wissenschaftslehre and the principles of logic in more detail. This will in turn help clarify the above two responses. We will take Fichte’s 1794 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre as our main textual source.

3

The Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre and Logic in the Grundlage

The principles of logic are deduced from the principles of the Wissenschaftslehre, because the former depends on the latter. The content of logic as a science also depends on the Wissenschaftslehre. The first principle of the Wis-

16

It should be noted that Fichte is not entirely clear about how necessary the form of logic is for a possible science. He asserts that “The Wissenschaftslehre does not, for example, obtain its form from logic. It possesses its form within itself and only establishes this form for a possible free act of abstraction.” (bwl ga i/2:139, sw i:68)

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

169

senschaftslehre as an Act (Thathandlung) is the foundation of consciousness and this therefore renders the latter possible. Fichte was prompted to use the Thathandlung as the first act to avoid the problems of Reinhold’s act of representation.17 The act of representation is an empirical determination of consciousness, and hence it cannot ground consciousness as such. To conceive Fichte’s Thathandlung requires an abstractive reflection on this act. (gwl ga i/2:255, sw i:91) This reciprocally involves assuming the principles of logic that we have to deduce from the Wissenschaftslehre. Fichte begins his philosophical system in the Grundlage by accepting the empirical logical proposition “A is A.” This proposition is widely regarded to be absolutely certain. In what sense, though, is this proposition certain? In the proposition “A is A”, A can signify anything. The proposition does not say whether in fact there is an A. The proposition “A is A” is true as form, irrespective of whether or not something corresponds to A. Fichte talks about the proposition “A is A” in a second way: “If A is, then A is.” The German original of the sentence has a nuance that is difficult to convey into English: “Wenn A sei, so sei A.” Here “sei” indicates something that is reported verbally, but is not actual. This “if-then” relation is the form of the proposition, and it is void of existence, and therefore void of content. What is certain in the proposition is the form, the relation between the two “A’s”. 1. A is A 2. If A is, then A is If A is, then A is If then According to Fichte, being when posited with a predicate has a completely different meaning from being when posited without a predicate. (gwl ga i/2:257, sw i:93) In the proposition “A is A,” we are adding a predicate to the copula. This proposition is different from “A is,” which is without a predicate. The copula of being without a predicate exhibits existence. That is to say: “A is.” It appears that the origin of this idea is originally derived from the Kant’s Beweisgrund. There Kant asserted that the concept of being is the same as the concept of position, when the thing is not posited relationally, but in and for itself: 17

Seidel remarks that the originative act of the Wissenschaftslehre cannot itself be represented, it can only be exhibited (it is a Darstellung) See. George J. Seidel, Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre of 1794 – A Commentary on Part 1, Purdue University Series in the History of Philosophy, 1993, p. 19.

170

kayar

The concept of Position or setzen is perfectly simple: it is identical with the concept of being in general. Now, something can be thought as posited merely relatively, or, to express the matter better, it can be thought merely as the relation (respectus logicus) of something as a characteristic mark of a thing. In this case, being, that is to say, the positing of this relation, is nothing other than the copula in a judgment. If what is considered is not merely this relation but the thing posited in and for itself, then this being is the same as existence.18 kant, aa, 2:73

“A is” is a kind of declaration of existence, but we cannot assert the existence of A at this specific step. We can only assert a relational meaning, namely, ifthen, as the form of “A is A.” This form is true. Fichte assigns a whatness to this form. (gwl ga i/2:257, sw i:93) For example, in the proposition “Impossible is impossible,” about which one knows (wovon man etwas weiss), is the subject of “impossible,” and the predicate of impossible, and what one knows about these (was man von ihnen weiss) (bwl ga i/2:121, sw i:49) is that the relationship constitutes the form of the proposition. When I say “Impossible is impossible,” the proposition is true regardless of the existence of its subject and predicate. What this means is that “If impossible is, then impossible is”. We do not assert that “Impossible is”, because we are not talking about impossible as content or as existent. In a similar way to the proposition “A is A,” we know that the form is true, but we do not know yet the truth of the content, that is, the existence of A. We will need a truth of the content that derives from the existence, or in other words: positing. As mentioned above, the mere form of “A is A” does not tell us whether there is an A. In order for this A to exist, it must be posited in the “I” and by the “I.” Fichte first states the positing of the if-then form (he calls it X) of the connection, in the I, not the positing of “A.” After the positing of the X in the “I,” the positing of A follows it. The possibility of the X depends on A, but A can be posited in the “I” only in the relation of the X. (gwl ga i/2:257, sw i:94) In the proposition “A is A,” the “if-then” form, which is posited as the X in the “I,” connects two “A’s” to each other.

18

English Translation in: Only Possible Argument in Support of a Demonstration of the Existence of God in: I. Kant, Theoretical Philosophy 1755–1770, eds. David Walford and Ralf Meerbote, Cambridge up, 1992, p. 119. For more detailed analysis for the term “setzen”, see David W. Wood, “The “Double Sense” of Fichte’s Philosophical Language. Some Critical Reflections on The Cambridge Companion to Fichte,” Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 15 (2017).

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

171

Because Fichte stated that A can stand for anything in this formula, we may substitute the “I” for A. When we substitute the “I” for A, what we first of all obtain is “I am I.” Similar to “A is A,” the formula “I am I” only furnishes the logical guarantee that “If I am, then I am.” Now, to obtain the existence of the A or I, we are informed that these two must be posited in the I. But how do we know that there is an “I,” or how can we say that A and I must be posited in this “I”? Fichte deploys a particular operation to arrive at the existence of this I, namely “I am,” from “I am I.” The unique character of the “I” enables us to carry out this operation. When we posit “I,” in other words, ourselves, in this particular logical relation, instead of A, the problem of being does not arise. The reason for this is that if we exist, our existence is no longer a formal question: we know our existence merely by existing. The specific proposition “I am I” or “I am” is not merely valid formally, but also in terms of its content, i.e. materially. The “I” in this proposition is conditioned by itself. What is conditioned and what conditions are identical to each other, and this is understood by Fichte as absoluteness. (gwl ga i/2:258, sw i:95)19 Inversely, the content, the existence of A, is not conditioned by itself, but by the existence of the I. Thus, to begin with, the existence of the “I” in the formula “I am I” is not a Thathandlung, it is a fact (Tatsache). We know the “I,” that is, ourselves, empirically at this phase, solely by means of judging. But knowing the existence of the very first “I” that grounds empirical acts and judgments cannot be achieved by a fact, or more precisely, it cannot be achieved merely by a fact and a judgment. Before the act of judgment, there must be an I that renders possible both the act of judgment and empirical acts. This act is the act of self-positing. Fichte calls this specific “act” a Thathandlung. In the Thathandlung, the “I” is both the acting agent and the product of the act, i.e. it is both active and the result of the activity. Here the “I am” (which is equal to X) now becomes a Thathandlung. (gwl ga i/2:259, sw i: 96) We must be careful at this point. In the “If A is, then A is,” we need the A to be posited to be able to exist. Above all, we need the “I” to carry out an act of positing, and then we arrive at the existence of A. We cannot reverse this process. That is to say, we cannot say “Because A exists, A is posited.” In fact, it is just the opposite: we can only assert a positing of A first, and then the existence of A. On the other hand, we can reverse the process for the “I.” Existence can come before the positing of the “I.” The existence of the “I” can give rise to the positing of the I. This particular uniqueness of the “I” 19

The logical principle of identity does not have the absolute certainty of the philosophical principle, but only a hypothetic certainty because logic is conditioned by philosophy. See Wolfgang Janke, (1970), Fichte: Sein und Reflexion – Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft, Walter de Gruyter, p. 90.

172

kayar

constitutes the above-mentioned Thathandlung. Even though both the empirical fact and the Thathandlung are expressed as “I am,” the consciousness that only the “I” can carry out an act of self-positing bestows upon the expression something more than merely that of a fact. Moreover, I am of the view that the factual side of the Thathandlung is still present or signified in the “deed” (That) part of the term Thathandlung. We are now in a better position to clarify the nature of the X. Fichte considers all of the three propositions “A is A,” “I am I,” and “I am” as the X. The X is the highest act of empirical consciousness. What is this X exactly? At first glance, it appears as something related to the act of logical judgment. Explicating what the form of a proposition is can help us grasp this better. Let us explain it using Fichte’s own example in Über den Begriff. In the proposition “Gold is a body,” gold and body are equivalent in a certain respect, and to that extent we are able to substitute them for each other. (bwl ga i/2:121, sw i: 49) In this affirmative proposition, this relation is called the form of the proposition. This means that here equality and substitution constitute this proposition’s form. This equality and substitution also enable the form of affirmation to become a logical form. The above explanation of the form of the proposition sheds further light on Fichte’s consideration of the formula “A=A” as the meaning of the logical copula in “A is A” at the beginning of the Grundlage. (gwl ga i/2:256, sw i: 93) We can assume the statement “A is”; this is to say, it is an intelligible statement. But there is no meaning to assume “A=” since we need a second thing; in other words, we require a second A to be able to constitute the copula of equality. A is ----- Meaningful (Because it is an act of positing) A=--------? (A equals ? / If A, then ?) “A=” is equal to “A is” when copula “to be” is here predicative. In the proposition “A is A” or “A=A” the act of equating or substituting needs another A. Moreover, the act of affirmation that is substantial for logic also requires this form of equation and substitution. The X is the formal sign of this equation. With this X, we can constitute any judgment of equality. I think this explains why logic requires the Wissenschaftslehre. It also shows why the highest act of the mind precedes logic. We need the self-positing of the “I” or the existence of the “I” in order to be able to obtain the copula of equality. The act of positing in the Wissenschaftslehre therefore corresponds to the act of affirmation in logic. This furthermore points to how the Wissenschaftslehre is capable of providing logic with a form. The form of positing is abstracted as a form of affirmation. We not only require the equality of the subject and pred-

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

173

icate,20 but also the equality of the subject and object of the “I” to be able to conceive and constitute any equality. This equality of the subject and object is originally valid only for the “I.” In the proposition “A is A,” any A could be put in the relation of subject-predicate, but only the “I” can be in a relation of subjectobject. Hence, the form of “I am” or “I=I” is also present in the Wissenschaftslehre with its content; logic abstracts from this form-content and reaches the proposition “A=A”; that is, it arrives at the logical principle of identity by giving it its own form. The concept of sameness in the Wissenschaftslehre generates the concept of equality in logic. We can therefore see that we derive the forms of equality and substitution from the sameness or identity of the object I and the subject I. I am the same with myself, in myself, and for myself. Even though the logical form of abstraction is derived from the Wissenschaftslehre, the application of the abstraction occurs in “I am,” which has a content and form together in the Wissenschaftslehre. In this sense, “I am” as a Thathandlung is the last thing that we are able to abstract. We cannot proceed further from the “I” that constitutes our consciousness. It is the ground, yet there is nothing further that could be a substrate for it. (gwl ga i/2:259, sw i: 97) When we try to go beyond our “I,” we become aware that the performer of the act and the ground of the possibility of the act, are one and the same; that is, the performer or cognitive agent cannot be abstracted from the act of abstraction. Except for equality and affirmation, the concept of certainty is specific to logic in Fichte’s system. Philosophical thinking up to Fichte mostly regarded logic in a relation with the concept of necessity. Fichte clearly attempts to draw a distinction between the certainty that is related to logic and the necessity that is related to philosophy. In this regard, the Wissenschaftslehre deploys the certainty of the form of the logical proposition “A is A,” and not the necessity of it, in order to posit something certain, which is the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre. The “if-then” form of logic enables this transition between the certainty of the propositions of logic and the Wissenschaftslehre.21 However, when governed by the Wissenschaftslehre as a rule, or when they are applied to a particular content in the Wissenschaftslehre, the acts of logic become necessary in turn. Logic needs the necessity and content of the Wissenschaftslehre which governs it so as to be a science. The Wissenschaftslehre, on the other 20

21

See Thomas M. Seebohm, “Fichte’s Discovery of the Dialectical Method”, in Fichte, Historical Contexts/Contemporary Controversies, D. Breazeale and T. Rockmore (eds.). New Jersey: Humanities Press, 1994, p. 26. This transition is explained in Über den Begriff § 1.

174

kayar

hand, employs the acts and the certainty of logic to be thought and understood. This gives rise to an uncertainty in Fichte as to whether logic is an actual science or merely just an instrument. We should bear in mind that before the science of the Wissenschaftslehre there were acts of the mind that had both form and content. The primordiality in question is not something temporal. It is not clear to what degree there are acts of logic in the mind before the science of the Wissenschaftslehre. I presume that one of the highest acts of logic is judgment. It is also not obvious whether the empirical (f)act of “I am I” is present in the mind before the acts of logic. However, it appears that Fichte’s aim was to found logic as a science so as to show how we become conscious of these acts. The logical act of judgment brings division to the “I”. In logic, when we talk about A and A, we have two things at hand. When we take the principle of “I am” as the first object, and the other formulation of this principle, “I = I” or “I am I” as the second phase in the acts of human mind, the former is not an affirmation and judgment (by which I mean Urtheil);22 it is an act of self-positing. The Act of “I am” is not yet divided. It is divided in the logical formulation “I am I” by a separating act of logical judgment. When the existent “I” posits itself in an act for a second time, the “I” performs the act of judgment. In one respect, the “I” that exists and the “I” that makes the judgment are the same, but they are also divided in another respect. The form of logic enables this division. Hence, it is here that we can interpret this division as an attempt to explain the problematic concept of distinguishing in the Review of Aenesidemus. The Act “I am” of the Wissenschaftslehre, which is composed of an inseparable form and content, therefore becomes divided into two I’s in the proposition “I am I” through the acts of logic that are to be thought and understood.

4

Conclusion

According to the method proposed by Fichte in the Grundlage, even though the point of departure is from the logical principle “A is A,” to ultimately arrive at the philosophical principle “I am,” we actually obtain “A is A” by abstracting from the material content of “I am.” In other words, the logical principle is derived from the philosophical principle. By accepting this logical principle, we

22

In his lectures on Platner of 1795 in Jena, Fichte uses a false etymology for the German verb ur-theilen: “original division” See. Johann Kreuzer, Hölderlin-Handbuch, J.B. Metzler, 2011, p. 98.

the first principle of the wissenschaftslehre

175

have thereby accepted the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre. This circle is precisely Fichte’s method. The propositions “A is A” and “I am (I)” are clearly not identical. While “A is A” receives a content only under a particular condition and is valid solely as form, “I am (I)” is unconditional and absolute and valid both as form and as content. Logic is conditioned by the Wissenschaftslehre insofar as its content depends on the latter. This also explains why Fichte considers the logical proposition “A is A” in the conditional form of “if-then”: “If A is, then A is.” This existential conditioning of A by positing it in the I supplies the content for the logical propositions. The grounding of the logical principle of identity in Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre historically shows that Leibniz’s conception of the logical principle is grounded by Descartes’ idea of the “I.” Fichte’s further attempts to elucidate how a logical principle is at once dependent on and distinguished from the philosophical principle is important both in its historical development as well as for current philosophical discussions.

Bibliography Leibniz (ag): Philosophical Essays, Edited and translated by Roger Ariew and Daniel Garber. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1989. Leibniz (L): Philosophical Papers and Letters, Edited by Leroy Loemker, 2nd. Descartes (at): Œuvres de Descartes, ed. Charles Adam & Paul Tannery. Quartercentenary edition in 11 volumes (Paris: Vrin, 1996). Arnauld, Antoine and Nicole, Pierre: La Logique ou l’Art de Penser, Gallimard, 1992 (English translation J.V. Buroker, Logic or the Art of Thinking, tran., Cambridge up, 2003). Beiser, Frederick C.: The Fate of Reason, 1987. Imhof, Silvan: Einsturz und Neubau: Fichtes erste Grundsatzkonzeption als Antwort auf den Skeptizismus, Fichte-Studien 43 (2016), pp. 52–70. Janke, Wolfgang: Fichte: Sein und Reflexion – Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft, Walter de Gruyter, 1970. Kreuzer, Johann: Hölderlin-Handbuch, J.B. Metzler, 2011. Maimon, Salomon: Versuch über die Transzendentalphilosophie, 2004 (English translation by N. Midgley, H. Somers-Hall et al., Essay on Transcendental Philosophy, Continuum 2010). Reinhold, Karl Leonhard: Beyträge zur Berichtigung bisheriger Missverständnisse der Philosophen, Jena 1790. Reinhold, Karl Leonhard: Über das Fundament des philosophischen Wissens Felix

176

kayar

Meiner Verlag, 1978 (English translation by G. di Giovanni and H.S. Harris, Between Kant and Hegel, Hackett Publishing 2000). Schulze, G.E.: Aenesidemus, Berlin, 1911. Seebohm, Thomas M.: Fichte’s Discovery of the Dialectical Method, in Fichte, Historical Contexts/Contemporary Controversies, D. Breazeale and T. Rockmore (eds.). New Jersey: Humanities Press, 1994. Seidel, George J.: Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre of 1794 – A Commentary on Part 1, Purdue University Series in the History of Philosophy, 1993. Wood, David W. “The “Double Sense” of Fichte’s Philosophical Language. Some Critical Reflections on The Cambridge Companion to Fichte,” Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 15 (2017), pp. 1–12.

9 Facticity and Genesis: Tracking Fichte’s Method in the Berlin Wissenschaftslehre G. Anthony Bruno

Abstract The concept of facticity denotes conditions of experience whose necessity is not logical yet whose contingency is not empirical. Although often associated with Heidegger, Fichte coins ‘facticity’ in his Berlin period to refer to the conclusion of Kant’s metaphysical deduction of the categories, which he argues leaves it a contingent matter that we have the conditions of experience that we do. Such rhapsodic or factical conditions, he argues, must follow necessarily, independent of empirical givenness, from the I through a process of ‘genesis.’ I reconstruct Fichte’s argument by (1) tracing the origin of his neologism, (2) presenting his Jena critique of Kant’s rhapsodic appeal to the forms of judgment, and (3) illustrating the Jena period’s continuity with the Berlin period’s genetic method, while noting a methodological shift whereby Fichte directs his critique against his own doctrine of intellectual intuition in order to eliminate its ‘factical terms.’

Keywords facticity – genesis – rhapsody – deduction – intuition – insight

In Being and Time, Heidegger aims to answer the question of the meaning of being without appealing to either contingent facts of perception or necessary facts of logic. Such appeals traditionally fuel oscillation between skepticism and dogmatism, between despair about perception’s justificatory power and hubris about logic’s explanatory power. Instead Heidegger conducts a phenomenological investigation into the a priori conditions by which being is disclosed to us, including our historical situation, social enmeshment, and responsibility to unchosen norms.1 Jointly termed ‘facticity,’ these conditions are not 1 See Heidegger on historicity, sociality, and normativity (Heidegger, Martin: Being and Time. Albany 1996: pp. 17–18, 111, 247–248). © G. Anthony Bruno, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_010

178

bruno

contingent perceptual discoveries, for they constitute the very possibility of our openness to a perceptible world: “Facticity is not the factuality of the factum brutum of something objectively present, but is a characteristic of the being of Dasein taken on in existence, although initially thrust aside. The ‘that’ of facticity is never to be found by looking”.2 Nor are such conditions necessary logical principles, for their denial yields no contradiction. ‘Facticity’ rather denotes a set of radically contingent or brute presuppositions of human existence, which are inescapable for us, but at whose root there is no reason. The term signifies the unique modal space of conditions whose necessity is not logical, but whose contingency is not empirical. Hence Heidegger describes facticity in terms of thrownness: although we can interpret it philosophically, we are simply given over to it. The concept of facticity is fascinating in its own right, but also for what it reveals about its idealist heritage, for Heidegger’s analysis of the modal space of radically contingent conditions is neither unprecedented nor unprompted. On the one hand, Kant thematizes just this space, setting a precedent for Heidegger’s existential phenomenology. On the other hand, the German idealist project of removing bruteness from critical philosophy is a key factor prompting Heidegger’s rejection of claims to presuppositionlessness. It is therefore well worth considering facticity’s origins in idealism. In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant locates transcendental conditions of possible experience at the modal register of anthropic necessity. They are unavoidable for us yet radically contingent in that they derive from no absolute principle of reason. Thus, despite being necessary for our sensibility, there is no reason for why space and time are our forms of intuition. Rather, they belong to a “kind of representation that is peculiar to us,” a kind of sensibility whose “origin” is a “mystery” (A35/B51, A278/B334). And despite our ability to metaphysically deduce the categories from the forms of judgment, there is no “further ground” for why just these forms, and hence just these categories, are ours. Indeed, the precise kind and number of the categories is a “peculiarity of our understanding” (B145–146). Such claims to the bruteness of transcendental conditions position Kant as a philosopher of facticity avant la lettre. Early calls are made by Maimon, Reinhold, and Schelling for a basic premise in the form of a first principle to provide support for Kant’s conclusions, without which such conclusions are at risk of reflecting merely our subjective disposition and of failing to compose a rigourous system. Fichte is the first to predicate systematic critical philosophy on eliminating radical contingency

2 Heidegger, Being, p. 127. See Heidegger on language and truth (pp. 152, 210).

facticity and genesis

179

and to charge its presence with rhapsody or what he calls ‘facticity’, a philosophical term that he coins at the beginning of his Berlin period. Texts from this period maintain his view in Jena that the conditions of experience are not inscrutably brute facts, but rather must be rendered fully intelligible by the absolute freedom of reason or the I.3 Supposedly factical conditions of experience are shown to follow necessarily from the I through a process he calls ‘genesis’. As Fichte says in the Berlin lectures of spring 1804,4 “an absolutely given fact […] bears in itself the mark of its insufficiency as a highest principle for the Wissenschaftslehre,” the mark of a “facticity” that we must “master […] genetically” (ga ii/8:180–181).5 Fichte’s critical response to apparently factical conditions of experience is to show that they are in fact necessary conditions that the I generates from itself, independent of empirical givenness. Facticity is a conceptual watershed in post-Kantian thought. For Fichte, it is the final obstacle for systematic idealism. For Heidegger, it informs the phenomenological method of avoiding skepticism and dogmatism. Yet this history remains neglected. German idealism scholarship still strongly favours Kant and Hegel, while Anglophone Fichte literature still focuses mostly on his Jena texts.6 This has the unfortunate effect of obscuring Fichte’s role in the development of post-Kantian logic, overlooking a pivotal coinage for phenomenology, and disregarding the relation between Fichte’s critique of Kant and Heidegger’s turn to the latent factical elements of Kant’s idealism. It is therefore crucial to explore the Berlin Wissenschaftslehre for the origin of such a decisive philosophical concept.

3 See Fichte: “it is the very nature of I-hood to determine itself unconditionally, to be what is absolutely first {in every moment of reflection} and never to be anything secondary { – for otherwise it would not be an I}” (ga iv/2:157). 4 For these lectures, I cite the English translation of ga ii/8 by using the page ranges that are denoted by double numbers in square brackets, which correspond to facing pages drawn from the sw and Copia versions of the lectures. 5 Cf. Fichte’s claim in 1805’s Propädeutik Erlangen that “all facticity can become genetic” (ga ii/9:54) and his call for the “absolute annihilation of all facticity” in that year’s Principien der Gottes-, Sitten-, und Rechtslehre (ga ii/7:354). 6 Recent exceptions are: Breazeale, D., Rockmore, T. (ed.): After Jena: New Essays on Fichte’s Later Philosophy. Chicago 2008; Nuzzo, Angelica: “Fichte’s 1812 Transcendental Logic: Between Kant and Hegel.” In Breazeale, D., Rockmore, T. (ed.): Fichte, German Idealism, and Early Romanticism. Amsterdam 2010; Martin, Wayne: “Nothing More or Less than Logic: General Logic, Transcendental Philosophy, and Kant’s Repudiation of Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre.” In: Topoi 22 (2003); and Schlösser, Ulrich: “Presuppositions of Knowledge versus Immediate Certainty of Being: Fichte’s 1804 Wissenschaftslehre as a Critique of Knowledge and a Program of Philosophical Foundation.” In: Breazeale, D., Rockmore, T. (ed.): Fichte, German Idealism, and Early Romanticism. Amsterdam 2010.

180

bruno

In part 1, I trace the origin and development of Fichte’s neologism. In part 2, I review the Jena period’s methods of intellectual intuition and genetic deduction. Intellectual intuition exhibits our awareness of the I’s primary and irreducible freedom, establishing it as philosophy’s first principle. Genetic deduction derives from the I the necessary conditions of its realization, avoiding any rhapsodic appeal to radically contingent origins. In part 3, I illustrate the Jena period’s continuity with the Berlin period’s methods of insight and genesis. Insight yields unconditional knowledge of the oneness of a first principle, while genesis deduces the multiplicity of the conditions of experience by showing that they emerge from this principle’s “self-construction” (ga ii/8:196– 197). I then note a methodological shift: Fichte now detects radical contingency within intellectual intuition, whose “ideal” form and “real” content he announces “are at their root factical” (ga ii/8:180–181). I reconstruct his argument for why insight into the I must become genetic if it is to remove this deeper instance of facticity and thereby prove “knowing’s absolute selfsufficiency” (ga ii/8:44–45), which remains the Wissenschaftslehre’s abiding principal concern. I offer this account as a piece of Fichte scholarship. Although my wider goal is to provide the background for a concept that is central to phenomenology, a first step in this project is to clarify the meaning of facticity – the problem that it denotes and the solution that it demands – in Fichte’s later work, which is neglected in Anglophone literature. Retrieving facticity from the Berlin period serves to clarify Fichte’s overall methodology. It thereby promises to draw scholars of idealism and phenomenology into discussion of a common issue, for while facticity may require us to posit a principle for its elimination, it may also turn out that we presuppose facticity just by positing at all.

1 The first philosophical use of ‘facticity’ occurs at the turn of the 19th century in Fichte’s Berlin period.7 In 1799’s Reminiscences, Answers, Questions, he says that “what is actual,” viz., that which in perception is “factically recognizable [ factisch erkennbar],” differs from that which is, in a “logical” sense, “absolutely first,” viz., freedom as the “principle of possibilities” (sw v:360). 7 On Fichte’s neologism, see Denker, Alfred: “The Young Heidegger and Fichte.” In: Rockmore, T. (ed.): Heidegger, German Idealism, and Neo-Kantianism. New York 2000; and Kisiel, Theodore “Heidegger – Lask – Fichte.” In: Rockmore, T. (ed.): Heidegger, German Idealism, and NeoKantianism. New York 2000.

facticity and genesis

181

This claim can be read alongside two related claims from 1806’s The Way Towards the Blessed Life or the Doctrine of Religion. First, Fichte says that the absolute’s existence is “factical and accidental [ factisch und zufällig]” if it is viewed with a “merely factical glance [ factischen Blicke],” whereas, for “decisive truthful thinking,” the absolute’s existence “necessarily follows” from its “inner being” (sw v:510). Second, he says that the “historical” is “factical [ factisch],” i.e., an “absolute Fact [absolutes Factum], existing for itself alone and isolated from everything else, not explained or deduced from a higher reason,” whereas the “metaphysical” is so deduced and thus “cannot be grasped merely as Fact [lediglich als Factum]” (sw v:568). We can see from these cases that the factical is a mark of contingency, whether this pertains to the content of perceptual givenness, the absolute when falsely conceived, or historical events lacking intelligibility. Moreover, in these cases, such contingency contrasts, respectively, with the necessity of “freedom” as a first principle, the necessary existence of the “absolute,” and the necessity of deductions from “reason.” Since, for Fichte, the absolute freedom of reason is synonymous with the I (see sw i:253, sw iii:1, 22, 53, 58, ga ii/8:204–205, and ga iv/2:157, 220), we can also see that the contingency of the factical is specifically to be distinguished from the necessity of either the I itself or deductions from the I. Similarly, 1801’s Presentation of the Wissenschaftslehre associates facticity with contingency. Fichte claims that knowing the absolute requires, not mere intuition “in its immediate facticity [unmittelbaren Facticität],” but rather an intuition that is “completely one with thinking,” i.e., intellectual intuition (sw ii:47). He extends this claim later by saying that the Wissenschaftslehre itself is “absolutely factical [schlechthin factisch] from the side of intuition,” which apprehends mere “facticity [Facticität]” unless it forms a “necessary unity” with thinking (sw ii:161–162). He concludes by explaining that “the absolute insight into an absolute form of knowledge” consists in distinguishing “factical knowledge [ factischen Wissen],” which is “contingent,” from the “absolute knowledge” that all such knowledge “is necessarily grounded on freedom” (sw ii:54–55). With this third text in view, we can now see that facticity is a mark of a contingency that impedes systematic philosophy insofar as it presents a false condition of experience, i.e., a condition that lacks the necessity that is demanded by systematicity. Mere intuition without thinking is a spurious condition of experience, while merely contingent knowledge cannot be its own condition. Again, we find that the relevant sense of necessity concerns the I, for it is the freedom of the I that serves as the Wissenschaftslehre’s absolute ground and it is the I whose intuition must be intellectual if it is to provide the kind of knowledge that is capable of grounding all knowledge.

182

bruno

The early Berlin texts use ‘facticity’ to designate the problematic contingency of conditions of experience whose determination lacks systematic rigour. Unlike the factical, a true condition of experience has absolute priority, as Fichte says in Reminiscences, or is deducible from a condition with such priority, as he says in the Blessed Life, or is that whose intuition is intellectual, as he says in the Presentation. Facticity is not to be confused with facts. Facticity is radically contingent in that it characterizes a purported condition of experience that lacks the necessity of either a first principle or a deduction from that principle. Facts, by contrast, are empirically contingent and are, moreover, compatible with systematic necessity, since, just by appearing, they conform to true conditions of experience. Facticity thus consists, not in the sensible givenness of empirical actuality, but rather in the brute givenness of unthought or derived conditions of experience, conditions whose origin is obscure and whose necessity thus lies in doubt. As Fichte says in the Presentation, the factical must be “renounced” and a “higher” point of reflection adopted, from which such conditions as time and space can be derived from a knowledge that is “always remaining in itself” (sw ii:132–133). Thus, while Fichte distinguishes facticity from facts like Heidegger over a century later, unlike Heidegger, he holds that facticity must be subordinated to the absolute freedom of reason. The early Berlin texts display Fichte’s sustained commitment to avoiding what Kant describes in the first Critique’s metaphysical deduction as the problem of deriving the categories “rhapsodically from a haphazard search for pure concepts, of the completeness of which one could never be certain, since one would only infer it through induction, without reflecting that in this way one would never see why just these and not other concepts should inhabit the pure understanding” (A81/B106–107). As we will see in part 2, Fichte returns the rhapsody charge to Kant throughout the Jena period in texts like the Wissenschaftslehre Nova Methodo: “The conclusions of the Wissenschaftslehre are […] the same as those of Kant’s philosophy, but the way in which these results are established is quite different. Kant does not derive the laws of human thinking in a rigorously scientific manner” (ga iv/2:7).8 Fichte agrees with Kant about the categories’ necessity for experience. But since Kant traces their origin to forms of judgment that are inherited from traditional, i.e., general logic and that he admits lack an absolutely rational ground, Fichte must derive them

8 Cf. Fichte’s question to the critical idealist in the New Presentation: “how did you become aware that the laws of the intellect are precisely these laws of substantiality and causality?” (sw i:442).

facticity and genesis

183

from “something higher” (ga iv/2:8).9 Fichte echoes this complaint in Berlin during his 1812 lectures on transcendental logic when he says that Kant “was not so disinclined as he ought to have been [toward general logic]” and “had not recognized that his own philosophy requires that general logic be destroyed to its very foundation” (sw ix:111–112). Rather than take what in Attempt at a New Presentation of the Wissenschaftslehre he calls “a detour through logic,” Fichte sets the categories’ genetic deduction from the I as the “proper task” of idealism (sw i:442, 446; cf. ga ii/3:27–28). The rhapsody problem is thus a precursor to the facticity problem, for it exposes seemingly brute conditions of experience and shows that they must rather arise sui generis from reason’s own free activity, i.e., from I-hood. To the extent that the rhapsody problem prefigures the facticity problem, we should expect that Fichte’s solutions to them are methodologically related. I will present the methods of the Jena and Berlin periods in parts 2 and 3 in order to demonstrate their continuity in just this respect. We will see how Fichte’s dual method of intellectual intuition and genetic deduction in Jena are meant to solve the rhapsody problem and how this sets a methodological precedent for his solution to the facticity problem in Berlin.

2 In the Second Introduction to the New Presentation, Fichte asks: What then is the overall gist of the Wissenschaftslehre, summarized in a few words? It is this: Reason is absolutely self-sufficient; it exists only for itself […] It follows that everything reason is must have its foundation within reason itself and must be explicable solely on the basis of reason itself and not on the basis of anything outside of reason, for reason could not get outside of itself without renouncing itself. In short, the Wissenschaftslehre is transcendental idealism. sw i:474

It may seem unlikely to those familiar with the letter of Kant’s philosophy to learn that it affirms either reason’s absolute self-sufficiency, given our dependence on sensibility, or reason’s absolute existence, given our affection by the

9 Cf. Fichte’s letter to Reinhold, 1 March 1794 (Fichte, J.G.: Early Philosophical Writings. Ithaca 1988: p. 376).

184

bruno

thing in itself. But Fichte distinguishes the letter from the “spirit” of Kant’s idealism, which consists in “divert[ing] the attention of philosophy away from external objects and to direct it within ourselves,” this as a means to proving that “a systematic derivation of all consciousness or, what comes to the same, a system of philosophy, would have to set out from the pure I, exactly as is done in the Wissenschaftslehre” (sw i:477, 479). His textual evidence for transcendental idealism’s identity with the Wissenschaftslehre is §§ 16–17 of the Transcendental Analytic: [original apperception] is that self-consciousness which, because it produces the representation I think, which must be able to accompany all others and which in all consciousness is one and the same, cannot be accompanied by any further representation […] The supreme principle of all intuition in relation to the understanding is that all the manifold of intuition stand under conditions of the original synthetic unity of apperception. B132, 136; corrected citations from sw i:475–476

By themselves, these passages do not convey the affinity of Fichte’s and Kant’s idealism. Hence Fichte asks: “what, summarized in a few words, is the gist of the Kantian philosophy?” (sw i:474). Fichte explains that original apperception is the “pure self-consciousness” that is “the same in all consciousness, and thus it is not determinable by anything contingent within consciousness. The I that appears within pure selfconsciousness is determined by nothing but itself, and it is determined absolutely” (sw i:476). This explanation implies two criteria for systematic philosophy, which will reflect Fichte’s view in Jena that the Wissenschaftslehre consists of “precisely two parts” (ga iv/2:179). The first criterion is that the I is “determined absolutely” and “determined by nothing but itself,” i.e., the I is absolutely self-determining. Given the nihilistic threat of Spinozism against which Fichte develops his system,10 I call this the anti-nihilist criterion. It is the requirement that the I is absolutely free and 10

Although Jacobi speaks of annihilation in his Spinoza Letters (Jacobi, F.H.: Concerning the Doctrine of Spinoza in Letters to Herr Moses Mendelssohn. In The Main Philosophical Writings and the Novel Allwill. Montreal 1994: pp. 362, 374, 376), ‘nihilism’ is not coined until Jacobi’s “Open Letter to Fichte,” after Fichte composes his main Jena texts. Moreover, Jacobi charges Fichte himself with nihilism in the “Open Letter,” depicting the Wissenschaftslehre as an “inverted Spinozism” that reduces objects to moments of “pure and empty consciousness” (p. 502). Nevertheless, Fichte is clear in the Jena texts that provoke Jacobi’s charge that his idealism aims to refute Spinozism’s nihilistic corollary.

facticity and genesis

185

that its function is thus to accompany all our representations and not, as Jacobi fears in his Spinoza Letters, “to accompany the mechanism of the efficient causes,” which would render freedom an “illusion.”11 To satisfy this criterion is to enshrine the I’s freedom as a first principle, a self-grounding activity that can ground a derivation of the conditions of experience or, “what comes to the same,” a philosophical system. The second criterion is that the I “is not determinable by anything contingent within consciousness.” Given Fichte’s criticism of Kant’s metaphysical deduction for deriving the categories from a radically contingent origin, I call this the anti-rhapsody criterion. It is the requirement that no brute conditions, e.g., forms of judgment or forms of sensibility, are imposed on the I. Fichte denies that Kant meets the anti-nihilism criterion because, by holding that the ‘I think’ is “a thinking, not an intuiting,” and by proscribing intellectual intuition of the actuality of the I or, indeed, of any being (B157; cf. B72, B307, A252/B308), Kant leaves idealism’s first principle unproven and so leaves unchallenged Spinozism’s opposing first principle: substance. As Fichte says in the Second Introduction: “The intellectual intuition of which the Wissenschaftslehre speaks is not directed toward any sort of being whatsoever; instead, it is directed at an acting – and this is something that Kant does not even mention (except, perhaps, under the name ‘pure apperception’)” (sw i:472). Intellectual intuition would prove the actuality of the I beyond its mere thought insofar as it consists in the immediate awareness of my free activity, i.e., of my instantiation of I-hood, and would thereby refute the nihilistic corollary of Spinozism’s first principle. Likewise, Fichte denies that Kant satisfies the anti-rhapsody criterion, since Kant derives the categories from forms of judgment whose origin is as groundless as the forms of sensibility. Again, Fichte’s criticism implicitly distinguishes between the letter and spirit of Kant’s philosophy: I know full well that Kant has by no means actually constructed a system of this sort […] I also know that Kant has by no means proven that the categories he has postulated are conditions for the possibility of selfconsciousness, but has merely asserted that this is so […] Nevertheless, I am equally certain that Kant has entertained the thought of such a system, that all of the things he has actually presented are fragments and results of this system.12 sw i:478 11 12

Jacobi, Writings, p. 189. Cf. Fichte’s letter to Niethammer, 6 December 1793 (Fichte, Early, p. 369).

186

bruno

Kant could have “proven” that the categories are conditions of selfconsciousness had he shown that they are the “results” of a grounded system, i.e., had he derived them from a first principle instead of from brute facts. But the latter is precisely how Kant describes the forms of judgment from which the metaphysical deduction derives the categories: for the peculiarity of our understanding, that it is able to bring about the unity of apperception a priori only by means of the categories and only through precisely this kind and number of them, a further ground may be offered just as little as one can be offered for why we have precisely these and no other functions for judgment or for why space and time are the sole forms of our possible intuition. B145–146

Like the forms of sensibility, the forms of judgment are radically contingent insofar as they are not derived from reason alone. Insofar as it posits an origin for the categories that limits reason’s self-sufficiency, the metaphysical deduction proceeds rhapsodically. As Fichte complains, in the Kantian edifice, “the construction materials – though already well prepared – are jumbled together in a most haphazard manner” (sw i:479n). He repeats the rhapsody charge in 1800’s New Version of the Wissenschaftslehre: “ ‘The I think that is able to accompany all of my representations.’ […] This is what Kant says in a rhapsody entitled: Deduction of the Categories, where he carries out everything except a deduction.”13 Admitting “anything contingent” into idealism betrays its spirit. Hence Fichte must satisfy the anti-rhapsody criterion by providing necessary premises for Kant’s “fragments and results.” The criticism of Kant and the clarification of idealism’s spirit yield a twofold job description that Fichte upholds during the Jena period. First, the Wissenschaftslehre must satisfy the anti-nihilism criterion by intellectually intuiting the I’s absolute freedom.14 Second, it must satisfy the anti-rhapsody criterion by genetically deducing the system of the conditions of experience from the I itself.

13 14

Fichte, J.G. and F.W.J. Schelling: The Philosophical Rupture Between Fichte and Schelling: Selected Texts and Correspondence (1800–02). Albany 2012: p. 104. ‘Intellectual intuition’ does not appear in the Foundations of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre. Fichte introduces the term earlier, in his review of Schulze’s Aenesidemus, and resumes its use in the Nova Methodo and the New Presentation. But we can see the concept behind the term at work in the Foundations if we compare the latter with Fichte’s description of a first principle in the Aenesidemus review.

facticity and genesis

187

To satisfy the anti-nihilism criterion, it is insufficient for an idealist to complete what Fichte calls philosophy’s first “task” of locating the “explanatory ground” or first principle of experience in the I, for the Spinozist locates an opposing ground in the Not-I. The idealist must also answer philosophy’s “first demand” of discovering the ground of experience by attending to herself and apprehending her self-sufficiency in intellectual intuition (sw i:422–423). In this regard, my intellectual intuition secures, not the mere thought of a first principle, but rather knowledge that is accessible only through my first-person awareness of my freedom, through my “immediate consciousness that I act” (sw i:463). Moreover, to satisfy the anti-rhapsody criterion, it is insufficient for an idealist to prove the necessity of the categories, e.g., by proving our a priori right to them, as Kant’s transcendental deduction does, if such a deduction rests on their metaphysical deduction from a radically contingent origin. We must also prove that the categories’ source is not “contingent within consciousness,” but rather arises “from the very nature of the intellect” (sw i:442). Thus, genetic deduction ensures that the categories are conditions of experience that arise sui generis from the I. Crucially, the rhapsody problem concerns the deduction of the categories, not the intellectual intuition of the I. We will see in part 3 that, in the Berlin period, Fichte traces this problem back to intellectual intuition under the name ‘facticity.’

3 We saw in part 1 that Fichte coins ‘facticity’ in order to name an intolerable contingency, viz., the apparent radical contingency or groundlessness of the conditions of experience. The problem of facticity is thus another guise of rhapsody, for it undermines the possibility of systematic philosophy by subordinating the absolute freedom of reason or the I to brute facts that allegedly exceed its power of self-determination. In Reminiscences and the Blessed Life, ‘factical’ denotes the sheer givenness of perceptual content, the absolute’s dependence on external causes, and historical events that resist intelligibility. In the Presentation, ‘facticity’ denotes a first principle whose intuition is not intellectual. In each case, a purported condition of experience is in fact false because its determination is arbitrary, whether perceptually, causally, historically, or intuitively. A true condition of experience, by contrast, has absolute priority insofar as its intuition is intellectual or else is deducible from a condition that has absolute priority. A more extensive investigation of facticity occurs in the 1804 spring lectures in Berlin. Fichte begins the Sixth Lecture by asserting that the Wissenschafts-

188

bruno

lehre “has the task of tracing all multiplicity back to absolute oneness” and “deduc[ing] all multiplicity from oneness” (ga ii/8:84–85). We can see how this assertion contains a restatement of the methodological division of labour that Fichte adopts in Jena by examining the concepts of oneness and multiplicity. Fichte describes oneness in the First Lecture in terms of the “unconditionally true.” He explains that “whoever would have [this truth] must produce it entirely out of [themselves]. The presenter can only provide the terms for insight; each individual must fulfill these terms in [themselves]” (ga ii/8:4–5). Insight into oneness evokes the Jena doctrine of intellectual intuition of the I, which, in response to philosophy’s first task, is an immediate awareness of the unconditioned ground or first principle of experience and which, in response to philosophy’s first demand, “everyone has to discover immediately within [themselves]” (sw i:463). As Fichte now puts it, in insight, “What we genuinely comprehend becomes part of ourselves, and if it is a genuinely new insight, it produces a personal transformation” (ga ii/8:18–19). Such a transformation consists in one’s elevation to the standpoint of freedom. Fichte describes multiplicity, not in terms of the “mere empirical givenness” of objects, but rather in terms of those “distinctions” that can be “established in the mind.” Such distinctions, he explains later in the Thirteenth Lecture, are “modes of consciousness [that] must be deduced from self-consciousness” in “proper genetic fashion” (ga ii/8:84–85, 200–201). Deducing non-empirical modes of consciousness evokes the genetic deduction of the categories, which distinguish and relate substance and accident, cause and effect, self and other, etc., and which, in order to satisfy systematic philosophy’s scientific criterion, must show that the categories are “immanent laws of the intellect” (cf. sw i:442) and not dictated by tradition, on pain of rhapsody. As Fichte puts the point in Berlin, no such categorial distinctions can be “merely factical,” but “must become genetic” (ga ii/8:148–149).15 In the Sixteenth Lecture, Fichte confirms the continuity of his Jena and Berlin periods by reiterating the claim that the Wissenschaftslehre has “two main parts.” The first part is the “doctrine of reason and truth,” which provides “a single insight” into a “fundamental principle.” The second part is the “doctrine of appearance and illusion” or “phenomenology,” which “deduce[s] from the first part, as necessary and true appearances, everything which up to now we have let go as merely empirical” (ga ii/8:206–207, 228–229, 242–243).16 We 15

16

Cf. Fichte’s description of the historical event in the Blessed Life with his claim here that “merely apprehending multiplicity, as such in its factical occurrence, is history” (ga ii/8:8– 9). For a survey of pioneering uses of ‘phenomenology’ in Lambert, Kant, and Fichte, see

facticity and genesis

189

can explicate this new characterization of the two parts of the Wissenschaftslehre by drawing on the opening assertion of the Sixth Lecture. Regarding the first part, insofar as a doctrine of reason and truth affords insight into the oneness of a first principle, it must secure knowledge of the I, although we will soon see that this insight is more complicated than Fichte first illustrates in Jena. Regarding the second part, insofar as the doctrine of appearance and illusion deduces from the doctrine of reason and truth, on the one hand, that which is “necessary” and, on the other hand, that which we initially take as simply given or “let go as merely empirical,” it must genetically deduce the multiplicity of conditions of experience from the I, instead of deriving them inductively from observations of traditional logic. We can therefore say that the Berlin period’s methods cohere with the Jena period’s by, first, demonstrating our insight into the oneness of the I as a fundamental principle and, second, deducing the multiplicity of conditions that, as modes of consciousness, make the I’s realization in experience possible.17 Now, whereas Fichte levels the rhapsody charge against Kant’s metaphysical deduction of the categories in Jena, he claims in the Thirteenth Lecture that the danger of radical contingency, now under the name ‘facticity,’ runs even deeper: “the primary error of all previous systems has been that they began with something factical and posited the absolute in this” (ga ii/8:202–203). Fichte no longer scrutinizes merely the categories’ necessity, but also that of philosophy’s “absolute” first principle. Once again, however, he targets Kant. Fichte claims that, in the Critique of the Power of Judgment, we find “the confession that the sensible and supersensible worlds must come together in a common but wholly unknown root.” He objects that if this root is “inscrutable, then while it may indeed always contain the connection [of the two worlds], I at least can neither comprehend it as such, nor collaterally conceive the two [worlds] as originating from it” (ga ii/8:32–33). By leaving the ground of the

17

Piché, Claude: “The Concept of Phenomenology in Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre of 1804/ii.” In: Waibel, V., Breazeale, D., Rockmore, T. (ed.): Fichte and the Phenomenological Tradition. Berlin 2010. On the continuity of Fichte’s Jena and Berlin periods, see Schmidt, Andreas: Der Grund des Wissens. Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre in den Versionen von 1794/95, 1804/ii und 1812. Paderborn 2004; Hyppolite, Jean: “L’idée de la Doctrine de la Science et le sens de son évolution chez Fichte.” In: Figures de la pensée philosophique. Écrits de Jean Hyppolite (1931–1968), Tome i. Paris 1971; and Gueroult, Martial: L’ Évolution et la Structure de la Doctrine de la Science chez Fichte. 2 volumes. Paris 1930. On Fichte’s methodological division in the Berlin period, see Piché, “Phenomenology”; and Zöller, Günter: “Fichte’s Later Presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre.” In: James, D., Zöller, G. (ed.): Cambridge Companion to Fichte. Cambridge 2017.

190

bruno

sensible and supersensible in the dark, Kant degrades philosophy’s first principle “from genetic manifestness,” where genesis is the method of deducing “necessary and true appearances,” to “merely factical manifestness, completely contravening the inner spirit of the Wissenschaftslehre” (ga ii/8:60–61). As we saw in part 1, facticity spoils the necessity of any purported condition of experience, including its ultimate condition. A first principle is factical if it is brutely unfathomable, imposed without reason. It is therefore no true condition. Remarkably, Fichte denies having yet given a presentation of the I that escapes the threat of facticity. He states that the task of deducing the “oneness” of the I is “entirely new and has not even arisen in the earlier presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre” (ga ii/8:242–243). This raises the unprecedented challenge that the I’s oneness must itself be deduced, i.e., that insight into the I must itself be made genetic. Fichte’s methodological shift in Berlin is thus to maintain his distinction between the insight into the I and the genesis of a priori conditions, but also to provide insight with its own genetic deduction, lest facticity spoil the root of the Wissenschaftslehre. As he says in the Fourteenth Lecture, we require “the genetic deduction of the I” (ga ii/8:216–217).18 This explains Fichte’s demand that his system’s first part, “as a doctrine of truth and reason, expunges all facticity from itself” (ga ii/8:206–207). This also contextualizes his assertion that insight into the I is “the only truly difficult part” of his system, the second part being the “brief and easy affair” of “deducing all possible modifications of apparent reality” in the form of a priori conditions (ga ii/8:132–133). In fact, the spring lectures offer no deduction of conditions familiar from the Jena period. Nevertheless, they do claim to detect and remove facticity from insight into the I. I turn now to reconstruct the argument for this claim, although I will not evaluate it here. In the Seventeenth Lecture, Fichte asserts that “a genuine derivation must have a reliable principle. Otherwise […] one deduces from the intrinsically contingent something else which is also contingent […] As if a good, proper, and reliable standpoint could arise when one had two terms, neither of which could stand by itself, each relying reciprocally on the other” (ga ii/8:260–261).19 Earlier in the lectures, he stresses the importance of seeing what the I “authentically is” and then describes seeing what “we really are in our highest peak,” viz., instances of I-hood, as a matter of “ascend[ing] from factical terms to genetic ones” (ga ii/8:40–41, 76–77). What are the “factical terms” that pre18 19

Cf.: “let us make this insight itself genetic” (ga ii/8:248–249). Cf.: “only principles can enter the circle of our science. Whatever is not in any possible respect a principle, but is instead only a principled result and phenomenal, falls to the empirical level” (ga ii/8:86–89).

facticity and genesis

191

clude seeing what the I “authentically is,” which is just to say, what we “really are”? And how do such factical terms prevent the I from serving as a “reliable,” i.e., non-contingent principle for the “genuine derivation” of systematic philosophy? An answer lies in the Ninth Lecture, where Fichte detects a disjunction at the foundation of the Wissenschaftslehre, viz., in the cognition of its first principle. On the one hand, the I has epistemic priority as the “inner essence of knowing,” since no knowledge is possible without its idea. On the other hand, the I has ontological priority as “knowing’s formal being,” since no knowledge exists outside its actuality. The I’s twofold priority yields two aspects of its cognition: we must think the I’s idea or “concept” as the essence of knowing and we must intuit the I’s actuality or “light” as the being of knowing. But the distinction between thinking and intuiting imposes the “task” of “finding the oneness” of these cognitive aspects: “The essence of knowing [is] not without its being, and vice versa, nor intellectual knowing without intuition and vice versa, which are to be understood so that the disjunction that lies within them must become one in the oneness of the insight” (ga ii/8:138–139). The disjunction is intolerable because neither aspect of cognizing a first principle is adequate for insight into it. Thinking the I raises a question of actuality: this thought may be empty, lacking light. Intuiting the I raises a question of ideality: this intuition may be blind, lacking a concept. Hence, neither cognitive aspect is self-standing. As Fichte says above, the “reliable standpoint” of a first principle is inaccessible if our cognition of it relies on “two terms, neither of which could stand by itself.” Moreover, if the epistemic and ontological terms of cognizing the I are not self-standing, they themselves are factical insofar as they fail to grasp a true condition of experience. Such factical terms must, as Fichte puts it, be raised “to genetic ones,” i.e., terms that stand together and grasp the I as the ultimate condition of experience. Failing this, we lack insight into the I’s authentic nature as first principle and, consequently, lack insight into our own nature as instances of I-hood. Fichte’s detection of a disjunction within the cognition of the I modifies his view in Jena that we cognize the I as the “first principle of all human knowledge” and as “that Act which does not and cannot appear among the empirical states of our consciousness, but rather lies at the basis of all consciousness and alone makes it possible” (sw i:91). According to this earlier view, we simultaneously think the I as internal and essential to knowing, lest it be externally and accidentally imposed onto knowing, and intuit the I’s being immediately, unmediated by an intervening and endless series of empirical states. But in Berlin, Fichte identifies thought and intuition of the I with what, in the Fifteenth Lecture, he calls “idealistic” and “realistic” maxims that “are at bot-

192

bruno

tom factical” (ga ii/8:234–235).20 The Twelfth Lecture describes the idealistic maxim as assuming a “standpoint of reflection” on the I’s “essence” and the realistic maxim as assuming the “absolutely given fact” of the I’s “existence.” Since each maxim “one-sidedly” regards itself as absolutely valid, each “annul[s] the other” while offering only an arbitrary starting point. This yields a “disjunction” between “two terms absolutely demanding unification” (ga ii/8:178–181; cf. 170– 173). Without unifying the idealist and realist aspects of our cognition of the I, there is no insight into the I’s oneness and therefore no principle to ground philosophy. Cognizing the I’s oneness requires removing the “conflict of maxims” between thinking the I in reflection and intuiting the I as given. Fichte says that this conflict is “alleviated only by setting out a law of maxims” (ga ii/8:172–173). In the Second Lecture, he states that “The Wissenschaftslehre’s own maxim is to admit absolutely nothing inconceivable” (ga ii/8:32–33). We can see how this statement prescribes a “law” that can resolve the conflict between the idealistic and realistic maxims if we see that neither maxim can conceive of what it posits. First, one cannot conceive of the I as cognized just by thinking its idea, since any such act of thought assumes the I’s actuality as its ground. Second, one cannot conceive the I as cognized just by intuiting its actuality, since an intuition of the I as the I is an essentially self-conscious thought. Hence, neither maxim posits something conceivable and so neither is admissible into philosophy. However, since we must cognize the I’s oneness in order to ground philosophy, we must render conceivable what both maxims posit, viz., the idea and actuality, or concept and light, or essence and existence of the I. Fichte does so in the Eighteenth Lecture by relinquishing the one-sidedness of each posit and reconceiving them as “grounded” in the I’s own “nature” (ga ii/8:280– 281). The I’s nature alone explains the unity of the thought of its essence and the intuition of its existence, for it alone makes possible this thought and this intuition. In other words, the I alone explains how it is possible to cognize its actuality because it is presupposed by all cognition as unconditionally actual. When we distinguish between thinking and intuiting the I, then, we divide what antecedently must be a unity. Whether we think or intuit the I, we cannot but exhibit the I’s oneness, however partially. Hence, whereas neither of the factical terms that yield the disjunction in the cognition of the I posit any20

Cf.: “Do not think of ‘idealism’ and ‘realism’ here as artificial philosophical systems which the Wissenschaftslehre wants to oppose: having arrived in the circle of science, we have nothing more to do with the criticism of systems [… They] arise only in philosophy and especially in the Wissenschaftslehre” (ga ii/8:178–179).

193

facticity and genesis

thing conceivable in isolation, we can reconceive them as genetic terms, i.e., as jointly derivative of the I’s own “self-genesis” (ga ii/8:322–323).21 In keeping with the Jena period’s view that the I as first principle is not merely a fact, but also an act, i.e., not merely a truth, but also a performance, Fichte concludes in the Eighteenth Lecture that the “principle of absolute idealism” must be “presupposed […] as something to be enacted and by no means as something to be understood” (ga ii/8:322–323). To cognize the I’s oneness is actively to exhibit the principle on which all cognition rests, a presupposition that, unlike the factical terms of the idealist and realist maxims, cannot be derived from anything more basic.22 Hence Fichte declares in the following lecture: “our task has been completed in its highest principle” (ga ii/8:298– 299). We can see that this conclusion is the result of Fichte taking a self-critical stance toward his Jena doctrine of intellectual intuition, whose factical terms are now genetically mastered. Cognizing the I’s oneness demonstrates the practical standpoint from which, on pain of nihilism, we cannot be driven. But it also enables us to overcome facticity within even the highest philosophical distinction, viz., between the thinkable essence and intuitable existence of the I. By raising this distinction from the factical terms of one-sided maxims that attempt to posit the inconceivable to expressions that are derivative of the I’s own nature, we can deduce the oneness of the I and thereby achieve genetic insight into philosophy’s first principle. In this, we meet the new challenge that motivates the methodological shift in the Berlin Wissenschaftslehre.

∵ Facticity starkly divides idealist and phenomenological aspirations for philosophical explanation generally and deduction in particular. For Fichte, facticity presents intolerable contingency for a deduction of the logic of experience. For Heidegger, by contrast, facticity represents the brute structure of our existence, any attempt to deduce or reduce which is an evasion of what it is to be human,

21

22

Cf.: “I have touched here on the very important distinction between a merely factical regarding, like our thinking of the in-itself, and genetic insight, like that into the in-itself’s self-construction [… R]eason exists in duality, as subject and object, both as absolute. This ambiguity must be removed. We can ground this entire existence most effectively with the formula already previously used and proven: reason makes itself unconditionally intuiting” (ga ii/8:196–197, 410–411). This explains Fichte’s otherwise puzzling attribution of “absolute facticity” and “primordial facticity” to the I (ga ii/8:46–47, 298–299; cf. 358–359).

194

bruno

a symptom that is not unique to philosophy. As he defines it, facticity is characteristic of Dasein as such yet “initially thrust aside.” If so, then German idealism’s apparent victory over facticity may express our tendency to cover over what we are, to prefer a slumber of sorts. Hence, although Fichte is as convinced as ever in Berlin that we always “remain” in the “hand” of the I,23 Heidegger will insist that Dasein “never gets back behind its thrownness.”24 To be sure, Heidegger’s phenomenology aligns with key features of Fichte’s idealism. In the New Presentation, Fichte claims that “the only type of being with which we can be concerned is a being for us” (sw i:500). For an idealist, being is meaningful only if it is structured by conditions of experience, which are necessary only if they derive from I-hood. The ontological upshot is that an understanding of being depends on an understanding of our being. As Fichte says in the System of Ethics, freedom is “the sole true being and the ground of all other being,” a truth “according to which all other truth must be directed and judged” (sw iv:26, 53). Similarly, Heidegger claims in Being and Time that “fundamental ontology […] must be sought in the existential analysis of Dasein”.25 He supports this claim by observing that an inquiry into being unavoidably implicates the “constitutive attitudes” of the inquirer, such as understanding and grasping. These attitudes are “modes of being of a particular being, of the being we inquirers ourselves in each case are. Thus to work out the question of being means to make a being – he who questions – transparent in its being.”26 If no account of being can ignore or suspend the being of we who account, then an analytic of Dasein is “a task whose urgency is hardly less than that of the question of being itself.”27 Interest in the meaning of being essentially involves attitudes characteristic of our inquisitive sort of being. These include, beyond understanding and grasping, concernfulness and striving for personal and shared futures, attitudes that Fichte defends against Spinozism. In “On the Essence of Ground,” Heidegger explicitly identifies ontology’s ground with freedom, stating that, by opening a perspective onto a meaningful world of choices, freedom “unveils itself as making possible something binding, indeed, obligation in general. Freedom alone can let a world prevail.”28 This coheres with his claim in Being and Time that Dasein is not merely an

23 24 25 26 27 28

Fichte, J.G.: The Vocation of Man. Indianapolis 1987: p. 111. Heidegger, Being, p. 262. Heidegger, Being, p. 11. Heidegger, Being, p. 6. Heidegger, Being, p. 42. Heidegger, Martin: “On the Essence of Ground.” In: McNeill, W. (ed.): Pathmarks. Cambridge 1998: p. 126.

facticity and genesis

195

objectively present “what,” but always also “a who,” to whom projects, including ontology, owe their significance.29 In the spirit of idealism, we substitute the tempting question of freedom’s place in the world with the authentic question of the world’s place with respect to freedom. Heidegger in this sense inherits Fichte’s insight that freedom is a fundamental presupposition of ontology. Nevertheless, Heidegger fundamentally transforms Fichte’s insight with his hermeneutics of facticity. Rather than posit the absolute freedom of reason or I-hood as a first principle, he claims that “Initially and for the most part, Dasein is taken in by its world” and is “not itself.”30 Interpreting factic life reveals how we typically avoid responsibility for who and how to be, deferring to the expectations of an anonymous public. Inauthenticity distorts our freedom, although without thereby annihilating it. Indeed, inauthentic behaviour presupposes freedom, since, for Dasein, it is freedom’s average expression. Heidegger puts this point in unmistakably Fichtean terms: “‘not I’ by no means signifies something like a being which is essentially lacking ‘I-hood,’ but means a definite mode of being of the ‘I’ itself; for example, having lost itself.”31 Rather than undermining I-hood, being determined by the norms and habits of nameless others is factically characteristic of I-hood’s everyday expression. A hermeneutics of facticity offers an understanding of our entangled existence in the world, a fact whose necessity is not logical, but whose contingency is not empirical. Fichte’s idealist refutation of nihilism puts within reach an ontology that is ripe for such an understanding. Yet it is an open question whether post-Kantian ontology should follow his attempt to eliminate the trace of facticity.32

Bibliography Breazeale, Daniel and Rockmore, Tom (Ed.) After Jena: New Essays on Fichte’s Later Philosophy. Chicago: Northwestern up 2008. Denker, Alfred. “The Young Heidegger and Fichte.” In Rockmore, T. (Ed.), Heidegger, German Idealism, and Neo-Kantianism. New York: Humanity 2000.

29 30 31 32

Heidegger, Being, p. 42. Heidegger, Being, pp. 108–109. Heidegger, Being, p. 109. Thanks to Michael Blezy, Karin de Boer, George di Giovanni, Sol Goldberg, Gabriel Gottlieb, Karl Hahn, Simon Schüz, attendees at the Eastern apa, workshop participants at Royal Holloway University of London, conference participants at the University of Leuven, and two anonymous reviewers for helpful comments on this paper.

196

bruno

Fichte, J.G. Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften [ga]. R. Lauth, H. Jacobs, and H. Gliwitzky (Eds.). Stuttgart-Bad Canstatt: Frommannholzboog 1962–2012. Fichte, J.G. Sämmtliche Werke [sw]. I.H. Fichte (Ed.). Berlin: de Gruyter 1965. Fichte, J.G. Science of Knowledge. P. Heath and J. Lachs (Trs.). Cambridge: cup 1982. Fichte, J.G. The Vocation of Man. P. Preuss (Trs.). Indianapolis: Hackett 1987. Fichte, J.G. Early Philosophical Writings. D. Breazeale (Ed. and Trs.). Ithaca: Cornell up 1988. Fichte, J.G. Introductions to the Wissenschaftslehre and Other Writings. D. Breazeale. (Ed. and Trs.) Indianapolis: Hackett 1994. Fichte, J.G. Foundations of Transcendental Philosophy (Wissenschaftslehre) nova methodo. D. Breazeale (Trs.). Ithaca: Cornell up 1998. Fichte, J.G. The Science of Knowing. W.E. Wright (Trs.). Albany: suny Press 2005. Fichte, J.G. and F.W.J. Schelling. The Philosophical Rupture Between Fichte and Schelling: Selected Texts and Correspondence (1800–02). M. Vater (Ed. and Trs.). Albany: suny Press 2012. Gueroult, Martial. L’Évolution et la Structure de la Doctrine de la Science chez Fichte. 2 volumes. Paris: Les Belles Lettres 1930. Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. J. Stambaugh (Trs.). Albany: suny Press 1996. Heidegger, Martin. “On the Essence of Ground.” In McNeill, W. (Ed.), Pathmarks. Cambridge: cup 1998. Hyppolite, Jean. “L’idée de la Doctrine de la Science et le sens de son évolution chez Fichte.” In Figures de la pensée philosophique. Écrits de Jean Hyppolite (1931–1968), Tome i. Paris: Quadrige 1971. Jacobi, F.H. The Main Philosophical Writings and the Novel Allwill. di Giovanni, G. (Trs.). Montreal: McGill-Queen’s up 1994. Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason. P. Guyer and A.W. Wood (Trs.). Cambridge: cup 1998. Kisiel, Theodore. “Heidegger – Lask – Fichte.” In Rockmore, T. (Ed.), Heidegger, German Idealism, and Neo-Kantianism. New York: Humanity 2000. Martin, Wayne. “Nothing More or Less than Logic: General Logic, Transcendental Philosophy, and Kant’s Repudiation of Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre.” Topoi 22 (2003). Nuzzo, Angelica. “Fichte’s 1812 Transcendental Logic: Between Kant and Hegel.” In Breazeale, D. and Rockmore, T. (Ed.), Fichte, German Idealism, and Early Romanticism. Amsterdam: Rodopi 2010. Piché, Claude. “The Concept of Phenomenology in Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre of 1804/ii.” In Waibel, V., Breazeale, D., and Rockmore, T. (Ed.), Fichte and the Phenomenological Tradition. Berlin: de Gruyter 2010. Schlösser, Ulrich. “Presuppositions of Knowledge versus Immediate Certainty of Being: Fichte’s 1804 Wissenschaftslehre as a Critique of Knowledge and a Program of Philo-

facticity and genesis

197

sophical Foundation.” In Breazeale, D. and Rockmore, T. (Ed.), Fichte, German Idealism, and Early Romanticism. Amsterdam: Rodopi 2010. Schmidt, Andreas. Der Grund des Wissens. Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre in den Versionen von 1794/95, 1804/ii und 1812. Paderborn: Schöningh 2004. Zöller, Günter. “Fichte’s Later Presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre.” In James, D. and Zöller, G. (Ed.), Cambridge Companion to Fichte. Cambridge: cup 2017.

10 “Knowledge is Existence” – Ascent to the First Principle in Fichte’s 1805 Erlangen Wissenschaftslehre Robert G. Seymour

Abstract Whereas in the wl1794 the transition from the facts of empirical consciousness to the absolutely unconditioned and self-evident Grundsatz is undertaken briskly, Fichte begins the wl1805 by stating the Grundsatz with the proviso that it cannot immediately be recognised as such. Instead of proceeding from a self-evident starting point to derive the specific a priori determinations of knowledge, there follows a long process of “ascent” to clarify the Grundsatz, in what Fichte calls the Existenzlehre. This “ascent” does not correlate to any component of the Jena wl, yet it constitutes the bulk of the 1805 presentation. In order to explain this, I will argue that the “ascent” can be reconstructed as meta-level discourse on possible candidates for first principles. Such a reconstruction can make sense of the highly abstract and paradoxical form of argument to which Fichte resorts. I will consider why Fichte comes to believe this meta-discourse is necessary and will analyse the form of argument Fichte employs in the Existenzlehre. I argue that this involves an attempt to resolve an antinomy between ‘idealist’ and ‘realist’ interpretations of the idea of an absolute presupposition of all knowledge. This resolution takes place by showing how each interpretation gives rise to a dilemma which demonstrates its inadequacy as an explanation of the absolute.

Keywords first principle (Grundsatz) – late Wissenschaftslehre – prima philosophia – the absolute – idealism and realism

The presentation of the Wissenschaftslehre from 1805 was given as lectures in the summer in the then Prussian university of Erlangen. It is the last version to belong to the 1804 Berlin cycle (it is listed in the ga as the “4ter Vortrag”, but it is technically the fifth iteration, as the lecture series Die Principien der

© Robert G. Seymour, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_011

“knowledge is existence”

199

Gottes-, Sitten- und Rechtslehre arguably also qualifies as Wissenschaftslehre). It thus forms the conclusion of the first fully worked out presentation of first philosophy after what might be called the ontological turn of the later philosophy, which correspondingly affects Fichte’s account of the first principle of the Wissenschaftslehre.1 Although more compressed and elliptical in presentation than the wl 1804/ii, there are good reasons to take it as a conceptually more developed articulation of the late first philosophy, in particular in relation to the subsequent development of Fichte’s thought.2 While recent scholarship has tended to emphasize the continuity of the later Wissenschaftslehre with the original Jena project, it cannot be denied that the status of the Grundsatz changes (from 1801 onwards) in a manner which appears to be difficult to ascribe to merely presentational or strategic concerns. The location of the first principle in the unconditioned activity of self-consciousness allowed earlier versions to move briskly to the transcendental standpoint. In the 1804 cycle, with the decided move away from the primacy of the self-positing I towards an unambiguously trans-subjective conception of the absolute, of which the I is the representative (Repräsentant), this transition becomes subject to an intensive scrutiny which involves a radical restructuring of the form of the wl. Thus the first and second presentations3 of the wl from 1804 as well as the 1805 version are organised into two halves, the first of which is a lengthy “propaedeutic” dedicated to establishing the point of contact between consciousness and the absolute. In the wl 1805 this process of “ascent” comprises roughly two thirds of the text. In the more well-known wl 1804/ii the term Grundsatz recedes into the background, but in the wl 1805 the term Grundsatz reacquires systematic importance. In what follows, I will give an overview of the elaborate process of the clarification of the Grundsatz in the Existenzlehre. Instead of providing a commentary on the propaedeutic as a whole, I will focus on what I take to be the basic argumentative strategy of the main part of the Existenzlehre: demonstrating the inadequacy of potential explanations of the Grundsatz by revealing how each candidate gives rise to a dilemma. The basic dilemma is first outlined 1 In a brief text from the same year, Metaphysik, Erlangen 1805, Fichte explicitly describes the Wissenschaftslehre as an ontology in the following sense: “[wl] is ontology in the general sense, [it concerns] the ontos on, the inalterable One [dem Einen unveränderlichen] …” ga ii/9: 157. 2 Zöller remarks on Fichte’s underscoring of the novelty of his reflections in his notes prior to the Erlangen course; cf. Zöller, Günter: “« Intelligenza nella fede». Il fondamento oscuro del sapere nella “Dottrina della Scienza 1805” ” in Rivista di Storia della Filosofia 62 (2007,1) pp. 27–40. 3 The wl 1804/iii is an exception to the usual method of presentation in 1804–1805. The relation of the wl 1804/iii to the other presentations of this cycle merits detailed investigation.

200

seymour

in the introductory lectures and subsequently plays a pivotal role in the discussion of the ‘idealist’ and ‘realist’ accounts of the Grundsatz.

1

Background of the Existenzlehre. Wissen an sich and the Problem of Reflection

It is worth underscoring the shift in the level of discourse that takes place in the Berlin/Erlangen cycle of the wl. Little remains of the project of the deduction of the necessary categories of experience on the basis of an unconditionally valid first principle taking the form of a logical reconstruction of the ‘pragmatic history’ of self-consciousness. While the later Berlin and Erlangen wl shares the same systematic standards, the form of explanation employed is quite distinct. Terms from the earlier wl – for example, intellectual intuition and Tathandlung – are integrated into the presentation, but the general approach of the Jena project, which involves explaining structures of consciousness in terms of underlying acts of the subject,4 is modified beyond recognition. Instead, the unifying focus of the wl now becomes how to deal with a structural contradiction between the evidence (Evidenz) of an absolute unitary presupposition of all knowledge and attempts to articulate this presupposition discursively. The level at which Fichte seems to be operating is that of providing a sort of metadiscourse which investigates the condition of possibility of the wl as a theory of the absolute.5 While it is true that these changes in the scope and method of the wl are fundamentally the result of an internal dynamic, the philosophical issue which structures the wl 1805 suggests very strongly that this version is meant to stake out a position in contrast to Schelling’s attempt to supersede the wl in his Identity System. It has been noted that in comparison to its more extensive and famous predecessor, the wl 1804/ii, the wl 1805 is more modest in scope and closer to a recognisable form of transcendental philosophy.6 Whereas the wl 1804/ii determined the task of philosophy as “to exhibit truth” [die Wahrheit dar[zu]stellen] which Fichte glosses as “to trace back all manifold to absolute unity”7 the wl 1805 places the accent slightly differently. The question to be

4 Cf. Falk Hans-Peter: “Der Philosophiebegriff in Fichtes später Wissenschaftslehre”, in FichteStudien 12 (1997), p. 367. 5 Cf. Gliwitzky Hans: “Einleitung”, Wissenschaftslehre 1805. Hamburg, 1984, p. xxxiii. 6 Cf. Gliwitzsky: “Einleitung”, pp. vii–viii, Cf. also Moiso, Francesco: “Il nulla e l’assoluto: La Wissenschaftslehre del 1805 e Philosophie und Religion.” in Annuario filosofico 4 (1988), p. 189. 7 wl-1804-ii, sw, 92.

“knowledge is existence”

201

resolved by the wl is how is absolute unity possible within knowledge: “What is knowledge in itself” [Was ist Wissen an sich?] (ga ii/9: 180, 6). The connection to Schelling becomes more obvious from Fichte’s framing of the issue of Wissen an sich. By this term Fichte means the form of predication which remains invariant in all possible knowledge claims. The position Fichte wishes to argue for is that Wissen an sich can only be understood exclusively as a form of mediation pertaining to subjectivity, which he calls existence [Existenz], of the absolute. The position he wishes to rule out is one in which the form peculiar to Wissen an sich is taken to be constitutive of the absolute and hence productive of its own content, something implied by Schelling’s account. Thus, by this point, although Fichte has abandoned the notion that self-consciousness is the source of unconditionality he affirms the impossibility of radically abstracting from it – a prerequisite for the Identity System. The wider context is of course the longer standing debate between Fichte and Schelling about the logic of unconditionality involved in establishing the first principle of philosophy. In the briefest terms, one could say that Schelling’s early trajectory differs from that of Fichte precisely to the extent that he conceives of systematicity as sustained by an ontologically absolute ground in which, as he puts it in Vom Ich, “the principle of being and thought coincide.”8 In contrast to the Grundlage, the unconditional first principle is given as it were entirely ab initio. Although it discloses itself in self-consciousness, it has an independent antecedent ontological status which is more basic. The location of absolute unity not – in a postulate or as in some sense lacking realisation – but in a primordial ontological reality, allows Schelling to short circuit both the epistemological and practical orientation of the wl, regarded as arbitrarily subjective, and to try to articulate philosophy from the standpoint of the absolute itself. The relevant formulation comes with Schelling’s Identity System, itself explicitly framed in terms that distance himself from Fichte. As long as philosophy starts with the mutually implicating realms of subjectivity (practicality) or objectivity (nature), it is condemned to remain within a conditioned series and hence to renounce all claims to grasping the absolute. The innovation of the Identity System was to argue that a discursive comprehension of the unconditioned was possible if the initial standpoint of philosophy regards the conditioned of the subjective and the objective realms as derivative from what Schelling calls the point of indifference. This ‘absolute position’ is expressed as a first principle in the proposition A = A. It is important to note that what is being affirmed here is the unity

8 F.W.J. Schelling, Vom Ich, in Sämmtliche Werke, i, 1, 163.

202

seymour

between the ontological vectors of subjectivity and objectivity: “This A in the place of the subject and the other in the place of the predicate is not what is actually posited. Rather what is posited is only the identity between both.”9 In other words, the point of indifference is the “is” involved in the predication of identity: this form is unconditional insofar as it exceptionally implies its own content, expressing the essence of the absolute as well as the cognition of it. By extension the discursive articulations of the subject and objective realms are so many non-absolute quantifications of absolute identity. Fichte’s fundamental objection is that this compromises the status of the absolute. His strategy which motivates the ‘meta-discourse’ of the wl 1805 is to argue that what Schelling takes as the self-production of absolute identity prior to all subjectivity is in fact the result of an illusion generated by inattention to the structure of selfconsciousness. This issue already raises its head in his correspondence with Schelling. There Fichte insists that: “The absolute would not be the absolute if it existed under some kind of form. But where does this form come from under which the absolute appears – in any event I agree with you that the form is quantity but where is this form located? – Or again, how does the one become an infinity, and then a totality of the manifold? – This is the question that a consistent speculation still has to solve, and which you necessarily have to ignore because you already find this form simultaneously in and with the absolute.”10 The position of ascribing form itself to the absolute is for Fichte a hallmark of dogmatism. As he presents the matter in the wl 1805, the source of this error is generated by the inability to distinguish between what he conceives of as passive or “flat” ( flach) and active or “energetic” cognitions of identity. Briefly put: ‘energetic’ thought is properly transcendental; it is active insofar as it involves a process of positing something as something. This positing as, which Fichte will argue is the most basic structure of self-consciousness, is a process of reduplication and is thus groundless as it cannot be derived from the simplicity of the absolute. However, natural (gewöhnlich) self-consciousness is predisposed to misconstrue its own relationship to the absolute by not grasping the activity of self-consciousness involved in reduplication. According to Fichte, Schelling’s attempt to rectify the alleged idealist bias of the wl by expunging the practical dimension of theoretical philosophy results in a primary example of such flat cognition. The Identity System is in effect a passive ‘system of perception’ which implicitly relies on the determinations of consciousness rather

9 10

Schelling, Darstellung meines Systems der Philosophie in Sämmtliche Werke, i, 4, 117. Fichte to Schelling October 8th 1801, The Philosophical Rupture between Fichte and Schelling: Selected Texts and Correspondence (1800–1802), Albany, New York, 2012, p. 66.

“knowledge is existence”

203

than transcending them. The propaedeutic of the wl 1805 is thus explicitly conceived as a form of defence against flat thinking which dispenses with “illusion and subreption” (ga ii/9: 243). Fichte’s main term for the error of this flat thinking with which he is concerned is “concrescence” or “Verwachsenheit,”11 a name chosen to reflect the confusion of the speculative, transcendental standpoint with the accretions of natural consciousness. The propaedeutic is structured around two basic ways of misunderstanding the form of Wissen an sich, which Fichte subsumes under the headings ‘idealism’ and ‘realism.’ Both refer to a dimension of knowledge that is involved in all predications, but when taken as the basis for explaining Wissen an sich produces a series of antinomies. That the uncovering of these antinomies is basic to the procedure of the Existenzlehre is something which Fichte attempts to show in the Vorerinnerungen, which precede the propaedeutic proper, to which I will now turn. Fichte’s way of introducing the issue of Wissen an sich involves first making a distinction between the use of the copula “ist” in logical and transcendental forms of predication. In the former a unity is established between a subject and a predicate whose relationship is purely accidental (zufällig). In the latter case however the form of judgement expresses an underlying identity between the subject and predicate positions – as Fichte writes, “Subject and predicate should merge with one another [ineinander aufgehen], fully and reciprocally exhaust each other [sich gegenseitig durchaus erschöpfen] …” (ga ii/9: 180) This relationship expressed by the transcendental copula manifests itself as an Evidenz (Einsicht) to the judger. The task of identifying Wissen an sich can be understood as the attempt to show that the subjective unity expressed by the transcendental copula is the basic form of identity. This task however immediately generates a problem, to which the Existenzlehre is intended to provide an answer: in order for there to be knowledge of Wissen an sich, it would itself have to be expressed predicatively as: “Wissen an sich ist das” (ga ii/9: 182). Thus the problem is that higher order transcendental knowledge (Wissen an sich) is supposed to be expressed by lower-order natural (gewöhnlich) knowledge, which it is supposed to ground. The problem of expressing this higher order knowledge takes the form of a dilemma: either (1) “this latter knowledge would be left out of the predicate (one would forget oneself” [dieses leztere Wissen würde aus dem Prädikat weggelassen (man vergässe sich selbst)] ga ii/9: 182) This option foreshadows the ‘realist’ account of Wissen an sich as designating a transcendent referent independent of the cognition of a subject. Or (2)

11

The term “Konkreszenz” is introduced in the wl 18042 but does not form a systematic focus of the presentation.

204

seymour

the form of subjectivity itself is brought into the characterisation of Wissen an sich. This option foreshadows the ‘idealist’ claim to express Wissen an sich by asserting its dependence on the operation (Vollzug) of thought. By removing the element of subjective cognizing, the first horn arbitrarily abstracts from a necessary component of all knowledge. This strategy, Fichte points out at the very beginning of the lectures, leads to nihilism as all knowledge involves an energetic production of identity by a subject. On the other hand, the second horn, by making the form of subjectivity constitutive of the form of Wissen an sich, generates an infinite regress structurally similar to the reflection model of self-consciousness.12 We are left in this case with an equally empty “system of reflection.” The problem and the task of the wl emerge at the end of the first lecture: The subjective form of predication must show itself to be merely factical ( faktisch) – that is separable from the essence of Wissen an sich. The second thought experiment clarifies the polemical dimension of the wl 1805. Fichte makes substantially the same point as in the previous experiment but, contra the “Verschlimmbesserer” of the Wissenschaftslehre, he highlights the problems involved in immediately starting with the concept of the unconditioned implied by the notion of Wissen an sich. In an echo of the Aufförderungsdialetik of the 1794 Bestimmung des Gelehrten, Fichte exhorts his audience to perform the kind of absolute abstraction that Schelling advocates to attain the standpoint of the absolute: “think being absolutely in itself as being [schlechthin an sich, als Seyn]” (ga ii/9: 186). The exercise of thinking the absolute once again reveals an antinomial dilemma. In the first instance, concentration on being in itself and purely as such yields an immediate unity, essentially the Parmenidean thought of being.13 This description of course recalls Fichte’s objection against Schelling in the correspondence to the effect that any further predication compromises the status of the absolute. The existence of any positive determination is occluded by the thought of being as entirely “closed in on itself and self-sufficient.” “Now,” Fichte demands “pay attention to your thinking [of being] itself” (ga ii/9: 186). The problem Fichte identifies with the thought of being is not that the concept itself is inherently unstable, but rather because this characterisation of being stands in tension with the fact of its being thought. Throughout the Existenzlehre, this will prove itself to be the basic, recurring problem involved in a potential theory of the absolute. If the true characterisation of absolute being is as literally ab-solute 12 13

Falk: “Der Philosophiebegriff”, p. 368. In an interesting difference with the wl 18042, Fichte brings in the conception of being as von sich, aus sich, durch sich, not as the hard-won result of the propaedeutic but as a framing device for the latter.

“knowledge is existence”

205

(outside of any relation), there is nonetheless the unexplained fact that there is something which is necessarily outside of, and in relation with, being, namely the thinking of it. The fact of an external thought cannot simply be ignored because it directly contradicts what is revealed about being in thinking it – there is a ‘hiatus’ between thought and being. The implicit argument here is that the invocation of the unconditioned becomes conditioned as soon as it comes into contact with consciousness.

2

Clarification of the First Principle (1): Idealism

It is against this backdrop that the Grundsatz is introduced as follows: “knowledge is existence” [das Wissen ist die Existenz] (ga ii/9: 189), or “existence of the absolute.” In a decisive difference from earlier versions, the Grundsatz is not presented as immediately imposing a claim to universal validity and self-evidence, but rather as a “Theorem” to guide further investigation. Fichte explicitly claims that as it presents itself to ordinary consciousness the Grundsatz is empty of content and that it is the task of the Existenzlehre to bring it to Evidenz: “This is the first principle: you merely do not recognise it as such. It is necessary first to understand it, then it will clarify itself” [dann leuchtet es von selbst ein]. (ga ii/9: 189) Fichte does not specify exactly what he means by a theorem in this context and why the Grundsatz should take this form (ga ii/9: 189). However, on the basis of the foregoing, it is possible to reconstruct his reasoning. The introductory arguments were meant to illustrate that a unified theory of knowledge requires an absolute presupposition which guarantees the identity of all knowledge claims, namely Wissen an sich. It likewise demonstrated that the concept of an absolute presupposition conflicts with its expression in predicative knowledge claims as well as in consciousness, both being essentially mediated. If the statement that Wissen an sich is existence of the absolute is not to be taken as simply contradictory, it should perhaps be seen as expressing a desideratum. What is required is a Einheitsgrund which coordinates identity (absolute) and non-identity (mediate structure of existence).14 Such a ground must be possible if a unified theory of knowledge is possible, the task of showing how this is possible is taken over by the Existenzlehre.

14

Again it is worth noting the difference of this speculative project to that of Schelling’s Identity System, which, at least at the outset, is a – reductive – theory of absolute identity exclusively. Cf. Moiso: “Il nulla e l’assoluto”, p. 210.

206

seymour

A clue as to the method of clarification can also be extracted from the previous discussion. In line with the structure of the aporia described above, we could say that Fichte there offers us two perspectives from which to approach the issue of identity and non-identity. One is from the perspective of transcendent being. From this perspective, one is faced with the problem of how to explain the transition of identity to non-identity or existence. The other perspective is immanently within the mediate form of consciousness or predication, in which case the task is to identify the underlying unity. The Existenzlehre begins by taking the latter perspective. This is not an arbitrary choice; it has been revealed that anything said about the absolute has to be posited in the mode of existence. Existence has thus been presented as a brute fact, the argument of the first part of the Existenzlehre is to attempt to locate the point of unity (Einheitsgrund) immanently in the form of existence itself, thus clarifying its merely given, hence ‘irrational’, status. Although the text is not explicitly divided in these terms, it is clear that this first section corresponds to the notion of idealism familiar from the dialectic of the wl 18042. We can identify this first section, which concludes in the middle of the seventh lecture, as idealist rather than realist as the investigation attempts to explain the notion of existence immanently without any recourse to a hypothesis of a transcendent origin. The first main concern of the Existenzlehre is to analyse the structure of mediation which is characteristic of existence qua absolute. The reason why in this presentation Fichte opts for “existence” as a designation for the structure to be analysed, rather than self-consciousness or I, is that the term is supposed to capture the fact that the form of self-relation which characterises these modes is to be at its most basic level in opposition with “Seyn an sich” (ga ii/9: 190). The term does not signify existential quantification15 but first and foremost the notion of relation as such, which constitutes the act of ‘projection’ or the spontaneous production of thought. Fichte expresses this most basic form of relation by glossing existence as the “enclosure” (Umfassung), “surrounding” (Umgebung), “Daseyn” of being. In order to contextualise Fichte’s insistence on this distinction it is helpful to recall that in many passages in the later work he explicitly argues against an emanationist conception of being, according to which the finite is a manifestation or expression of being, precisely because he thinks that this model cannot account for the exteriority of existence which separates it from being.16 The problem he is dealing with here is substantially the same as that of earlier arguments against dogmatism; these systems, taking 15 16

Cf. Falk, Hans-Peter: “Existenz und Licht. Zur Entwicklung des Wissensbegriffs in Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre 1805” in Fichte-Studien 7 (1993), p. 50. That this issue particularly occupied Fichte in the period preceding the summer course

“knowledge is existence”

207

their start from being, cannot explain the free-act of self-positing and thus cannot explain the transition (Übergang) of being to self-consciousness. Fichte’s post 1800 speculative standpoint does not lead him closer to a reduction of the primacy of self-consciousness in the manner of Schelling. The task of the Existenzlehre can thus in large part be seen as a reformulation of this issue of transition in ontologically committed terms. There are two main ways in which Fichte brings out this opposition of being and existence. Firstly, the “qualitative” determination of existence (its essence or was-sein) consists in mediation. Whereas being is self-grounding (von sich, durch sich) and sui-sufficient in the manner of Spinoza’s substance, existence is self-referential in the sense of absolutely mediating between two relata, a state Fichte names “sich-intelligieren.” This self-referential structure requires a moment of non-identity which separates it from the self-contained unity of being. This most basic way of thinking about identity across two relata is contained in the term “as”: “Existence is existence only as existence … in opposition to another …” (ga ii/9: 190) This mediating “as-structure” is the basis of all ideality and conceptuality. The basic point which Fichte brings out is that existence qua relation is not itself mediated; existence is not to be hypostatised as a separable sustaining ground of relation, but immediately constitutes this relation itself. This Fichte expresses by claiming numerous times that existence is an “organic” unity or identity. The force of this characterisation is implicitly aimed against trivial ‘logical’ accounts of relation that parallel the merely ‘logical’ account of predication discussed above.17 In these logical accounts the relation between different states is purely accidental, in ‘existence’ this relation is necessary and logically prior to the states of affairs being related. This account of relation is thus: “absolute through [absolutes Durch], pure mediation of the quality of the image” [reine Mittelbarkeit der Qualität des Bildes] (ga ii/9: 192). Fichte’s problem here is structurally analogous to that diagnosed in the reflection model of self-consciousness: in both cases an immediate identity which, as it functions as the ground of mediation, is described as itself mediated. Having separated a contingent from a necessary account of relation, the next step of the argument is concerned with a second sense of ‘opposition’ to being. This concerns not the qualitative or essential analysis of existence, but

17

in Erlangen is evident from his working notes from spring 1805, cf. ga ii/9: 9–10: “In this case it would not be existent at all, but rather inner being itself.” Cf. ga ii/9: 210: “this would be a trivial explanation of the concept of relation, as is to be found in every compendium of logic. This is not what is intended, [rather] relation should be conceived as a self-sufficient and self-contained essence, as a unity of essence [WesenEinheit]: in identity.”

208

seymour

its formal dimension (Existenz formaliter): “There: What is existence. Here = whatever it might be, it always and eternally remains only existence, not being itself. In short … there we were thinking, objectifying the existence as the absolute. Here we are thinking absolute – existence according to its form.” [Dort: Was ist Existenz. Hier = was es auch seyn möge: es bleibt doch immer, u ewig nur Existenz, nicht das Seyn selber. Kurz – und mit Einem schlagenden Worte: dort dachten wir, objectivirend die Existenz als das absolute: hier denken wir absolute – Existenz eben; ihrer Form nach] (ga ii/9: 194). Discussion of this dimension of idealism reintroduces the problem posed by contingency. The difference can be put in these terms: the qualitative analysis of existence showed ideality to be an ‘organic identity’, that is a genetic relation governed by the as-structure. Fichte’s point is that, formally speaking, no such identity obtains. The ground of this relation cannot itself be explained ideally, hence it is not “genetic” in Fichte’s sense. It is rather irrational as there is as yet no conceptual account of the origin of the fact that there is ideal identity, rather we rely on an unexplained contingently given insight that there is this knowledge. Ignoring this distinction between the qualitative (was) and formal (daß) dimension generates an illusion which exposes the inadequacy of idealism as an explanatory model for the Grundsatz. As Fichte’s presentation of this potential illusion is extremely compressed, it is helpful to contextualise the argumentation by recalling the polemics against Tatsachenphilosophie which occupy earlier presentations of the first principle. There Fichte was concerned to distinguish the self-positing I, the fundamental act of consciousness as a condition of the possibility of all experience, from facts about empirical consciousness which could be taken as fundamental but which are in fact derivative. For example, understood correctly, the cogito can be taken as documenting the Ur-Akt of self-consciousness, the Tathandlung. However, it is equally possible to take it as expressing the certainty that I find myself existing at a given point, thus merely registering a fact of consciousness.18 What does this have to do with formal positing? Fichte argues that it follows from the fact that formal existence is groundless that it is indifferent to its positing. That is, that there is no ground (understood genetically or in terms of sich-intelligieren) which resolves whether the self posits itself or not, rather this is purely a matter of perception of a given (factical) event, a fact of consciousness. In other words, from the point of view of ideality, it is not possible to deduce the actuality of the relation. The relation can thus far, from a theoretical point of view, only be asserted “problematically.” (ga ii/9: 202) However,

18

Vgl. gwl § 1 ga i/2: 262.

“knowledge is existence”

209

this factical occurrence of positing can be taken as expressing a necessity. In the registering of the certainty of my existence, the I in the subject position is united with the I in the object position – but, Fichte argues, this connection is accidental insofar as it is the result of a perception (Wahrnehmung) of a factical state. Connection, by means of perception, thus corresponds to the logical copula introduced at the beginning of the presentation. This is a position which Fichte calls WirklichkeitsEmpirismus: “I am, and no further: this is an empirical conception, inner concretion [Verwachsenheit] and unclarity.” (ga ii/9: 207) Identity of subject and object is present in actuality (Wirklichkeit), but an “inner” transcendental identity between the two terms is not established. This is problematic as the essence of existence is transcendental identity of two terms; a contingent identity established in perception cannot found a transcendental identity. The argument against empiricism thus appears to target a position which covers up the groundlessness of existence in the form of the Tathandlung. The result of the idealistic clarification of the Grundsatz reveals that “existence is confused with the mere form of existence” [die Existenz ist an die blosse Form der Existenz gefallen] (ga ii/9: 207). As has been argued, the upshot of the analysis so far is to argue that the selfrelating form of existence cannot be understood as self-grounding. With this realisation we reach the most significant moment in the ascent of the Existenzlehre which deals with idealism. Fichte now stipulates not only that Existenz “does not follow” from being, but that the fact of the contingency of existence in relation to being is a positive condition of possibility for existence. This is expressed in what he calls the “highest theorem” of the Existenzlehre: “that existence in itself does not follow ( from itself ) is the absolute condition of its own existence, and if it did follow ( from itself ) (if it was cognised as a consequence of itself ), then it would be thereby fully voided and annihilated.” [daß die Existenz in ihr selber nicht folge, ist absolute Bedingung ihrer eignen Existenz; u. wenn sie in ihr selber folgte (als eine Folge intelligirt würde) so würde sie dadurch völlig aufgehoben, u. vernichtet] (ga ii/9: 209). For this positive account of existence, Fichte offers two proofs, one indirect and one direct. The strategy of the indirect proof is to expose a dilemma with respect to the grounding of existence from the immanent standpoint of idealism. This arises in response to the question of whether the act of “sich intelligieren” can be taken as absolute. It follows straightforwardly from the discussion of existence given above that it cannot be ‘absolute’ in the required sense, precisely because existence has been defined in opposition to being in itself, as essentially relative. If existence is not absolute in itself, the alternative possibility is that it constitutes itself by means or a self-positing which would constitute “ihre eigene innere Existenz” (ga ii/9: 209). However this solu-

210

seymour

tion merely generates an infinite regress as this positing would itself require an anterior positing etc, and existence would not be possible. As Janke puts it, “If the I exists in the positing of itself and owes its self-relation to a discrete [eigenen] positing, then this positing, insofar as it exists, has another ground above and outside of itself … However, if there is no first and conclusive basis then the existence of the I [Ich-Existenz] cannot be realised.”19 The result of this negative proof is merely to reaffirm the result attained earlier that existence is absolute qua relation of two relata; this relation is irreducible, but not absolute in the sense of being self-grounding: “it follows: its [existence] inner being must be absolutely actual and immediate: it cannot be absolutely mediated (absolutely, relatively to be sure) in itself.” [ folgt: ihr inneres Seyn muß in ihr selber durchaus absolut wirklich seyn, u. unmitelbar; absolut vermittelt (absolut, relativ wohl) kann es in sich selber nicht seyn] (ga ii/9: 209). The direct proof on the other hand proceeds immediately from the analysis of the structure of existence. This is, as we have already seen, an internal and organic, rather than an external or merely logical, identity of subject and object positions. Up until this point the analysis of this relation has focused on the fact that it requires two relata. The question is now: what is the ground which unites these two relata? This presents a specific problem for the transcendental account of (internal) identity. Existence is the immediate relation between these two relata, as Fichte puts it: “how can two become inwardly One. Answer: through an As: they are as such in relation. The relation is itself also only in this relation, and as third, since it is the second as its relation. For it [the relation] is nothing but this: it is also accordingly for itself always in the form of the As.” [wie können zwei innerlich Eins werden. Antw. durch ein Als: sie sind als solche im Verhältniß: Sie, die Relation ist sich selber auch nur in dieser Relation, u. als drittes, denn sie ist ja das zweite. als ihr Verhältniß, denn sie ist nichts anders: sie ist sich dem nach auch immer in der Form des Als] (ga ii/9: 210). The “As” cannot be taken as a logical conjunction, but rather as expressing a “WesensEinheit” (ga ii/9: 210). This in turn opens the possibility of a reversal in the argument. This possibility stems from the fact that the transcendental identity of existence cannot be grasped internally as a correlate of its relata. Rather the immediate self-relation of existence must be explained from a unitary standpoint – from the standpoint of the relation itself. The premise of the ideal standpoint was that the ground of existence should be located by working backwards from an analysis of its constitution, which essentially involves a doubling

19

Janke, Wolfgang: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre 1805. Methodisch-systematischer und philosophiegeschichtlicher Kommentar, Darmstadt 1999, p. 27.

“knowledge is existence”

211

(self-relation), hence from the relata. Thus far the analysis of existence has employed the tactic of working backwards from the relata of consciousness.20 The presentation has shown that existence is not sui-sufficient (durch sich), therefore the next stage of the Existenzlehre is to invert the argument so that the starting point is a form of explanation of existence which doesn’t implicitly presuppose an external grounding. This is achieved by abstracting from factically persistent reflection in order to find the deeper structure of ‘absolute relation.’

3

Clarification of the First Principle (2): Realism

The analysis of idealism established that existence of the form of the I can only be adequately characterised as an immediate organic relation. The strategy of idealism was to present the ‘absoluteness’ of knowledge as inherent to the act of relation. The next stage of the ascent, realism, proposes a different explanatory hypothesis: existence is to be understood as the mediation of the absolute as a pre-discursive ground. Ultimately, the task of realism is to “depose” (absetzt) the standpoint of reflection as the starting point for first philosophy. Although the realist hypothesis is qualified later on, its insight into the derivative status of idealism is a fundamental for the argument of the Existenzlehre taken as a whole. The noted primacy of realism in the wl 18042 is thus likewise evident in this presentation.21 Realism’s task adds an extra level of complexity to the argument in this section of the Existenzlehre; if “idealism” consisted in an investigation of the structure of the for-itself, that of “realism” is to investigate the relation between the in-itself and the for-itself. The initial hypothesis of realism postulates a point of unity which spans the difference between selfconsciousness and its transcendent origin. This shift in hypothesis also qualifies realist explanation as a form of theology.22 Fichte explains the point of unity dictated by this form of explanation with recourse to the classic platonic conception of light,23 “not as thus far [according to which] … the absolute relation is light. Rather light is the absolute relation” (ga ii/9, 211). While Fichte

20

21 22 23

Cf. Falk: “Existenz und Licht”, p. 53: “The difference between two relata, between image and referent [Bild und Abgebildetem] is in contrast secondary, it only comes about in the reflection on original existence.” Vgl. Falk: “Der Philosophiebegriff”, p. 373; Janke, Wolfgang, Sein und Reflexion – Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft, Berlin 1970. Vgl. ga ii/9: 157. Vgl. ga ii/9, 210–211: “I say that the relation [Beziehung], that has been described up to this point, in its immediate concrete and organic unity is light, internal [das inwendige] light.”

212

seymour

undoubtedly exploits the connotations of light in that tradition as the simultaneous revelation of being and entities, the discourse of light is not neo-platonic as such but an attempt to grasp the point of contact between an analysis of selfconsciousness and the absolute as it manifests itself as an Evidenz. The details of Fichte’s account of the structure of light are too complex to rehearse here in anything other than schematic terms, I will therefore focus my discussion on the problem which arises with the realist form of explanation which as we will see produces a dilemma – albeit at a higher level – analogous to those already encountered. The first point to note is that the introduction of light is not part of a phenomenology of consciousness, but rather an appeal to an Evidenz. Strictly speaking this Evidenz expressed as light is an implication of the previous analysis of idealism. How this is the case can be stated in the following way. On the one hand, Fichte is committed to a notion of being as self-grounding (von sich, durch sich). On the other hand, we only have access to being through the structure of consciousness, analysis of which reveals it to not be self-grounding, but rather dependent on a relationship to being. The salient characteristic of light, conceived not as an empirical concept but as the medium of disclosure, is that it presents itself as comprehending the hiatus between being and existence. Reflection on light reveals it to be quality as such, or “absolute quale” – it is absolute quale as it mediates but cannot be further qualified, it is mediation in its most basic form: “according to its nature it cannot further resolve itself into anything more basic” [es kann sich selbst seinem Wesen nach in sich selber nicht weiter auflösen] (ga ii/9, 211). One the one hand it is indivisible, on the other hand it is proto-relational. Formally speaking, it appears to be initself yet simultaneously disclosive; immanently productive of difference and indifferent to the mediating structure of existence. The Evidenz of light likewise appears to express a unity of contingency and necessity: “Light having come to be, cannot not be” [Das Licht einmal seynd, kann nicht nicht seyn] (ga ii/9, 211), which allows it to comprehend not only the qualitative but also the formal (factical) character of existence. Two things follow from the characterisation of the Evidenz of light. Firstly, Fichte can ‘invert’ the order of explanation; the basic disjunction of the asstructure of absolute relation can be derived from a unitary ground, as was demanded by the dilemma which arose from the idealist mode of explanation. This allows Fichte to reconfigure the structure of relation with regard to the absolute: “not the as, the relation etc. … generates the light by itself. Rather the light generates the as, the relation, and by means of the relation first of all being, as well as existence, and in the latter as the form of existence …” [nicht das als, die Relation, usf. Bringt das Licht mit sich, sondern das Licht bringt das als, die

“knowledge is existence”

213

Relation, u. vermittelst der Relation zunächst das Seyn, u. die Existenz, u in der letzteren als Form der Existenz hervor] (ga ii/9, 211). Secondly, we can specify the sense of absolute relation necessary for clarifying the Grundsatz: this is “act of being.”24 Fichte is careful at this stage to distinguish his concept from that of Schelling’s – an act of being does not involve a change in status of a preexisting absolute, the idea underlying the hypothesis of the Abfall in Schelling’s Philosophie und Religion, which was invoked to explain the transition of the absolute to the realm of the finite. Rather the act of being is to be understood as an immediate (mit einem Schlag) non-temporal production (Erzeugung) or creation (ga ii/9, 220). It is at this point, as with the analysis of idealism, that realism likewise generates the risk of an illusion. It is important to notice that this illusion forms the realist counterpart of that which was generated by idealism. In both cases the illusion (Täuschung) has to do with the status of reflection and its form (facticity). In the section on idealism Fichte was concerned to counter attacks on the wl as an empty system of reflection. Such a system was characterised as “empty” as it failed to make contact with being. The I in its act of self-relation illegitimately identified its ideal structure and its (factical) form on the basis of a conjunction in a fact of consciousness, thus covering up its own groundlessness. This was an illusion that could only be dispelled by analysis of the ‘impure,’ non-transcendental form of unity which it expressed. In other words, this was an illusion inherent to the relational structure of existence itself.25 The problem with realism is structurally analogous insofar as it invites a confusion between the act of being and its conceptualisation. The original realist hypothesis was that the necessary ground of relation could be found by abstracting from the formal operation of self-consciousness and by explaining the ground of relation from the standpoint of a transcendent presupposition, understood as purely in-itself. Yet Fichte notes that the act of being cannot be conceptualised as expressing the absolute as in itself without ultimately standing in some albeit negative relation to consciousness. This problem leads Fichte not to dispense with realism altogether but to distinguish between the “Akt” of light and its unobjectifiable “GrundSeyn.” This stage of the argument, which Fichte calls the “positive self-annihilation [Selbstvernichtung] of light,” (ga ii/9, 221) can be read as a reflection on the limits of knowledge in the light of the failure of realism to articulate Wissen an sich. Light

24 25

Vgl. ga ii/9, 219. cf. Moiso: “Il nulla e l’assoluto”, p. 190.

214

seymour

is “deposed” (setzt ab) as a candidate for explaining the absolute and is retained only as a medium for the act of being. The being (GrundSeyn) of light itself is understood to be entirely preconceptual, inaccessible to knowledge: “nude et simpliciter, the substantial light, itself invisible, intuitive, itself unconceivable, intelligible.” (ga ii/9, 240) Nonetheless, the avoiding of the illusion that light spans the hiatus between being and existence only throws into sharper relief the fact that any conception of the absolute whatsoever is compromised by being the result of a contingent ideal process of objectification, hence of facticity. This problem Fichte names “absolute Reflektierbarkeit” and introduces the final regress dilemma of the Existenzlehre. Absolute Reflektierbarkeit amounts to the idea that the realist position concerning the ground of consciousness is only possible insofar as the in-principle infinite possible iterations of reflection are arbitrarily stopped. What absolute Reflektierbarkeit reveals is the factical irreducibility of the mediation of the subject. The Existenzlehre shows that the reflexivity of ideal activity of the latter is free – in other words groundless – which in turn entails that there are no specifiable limits to reflection. Although Fichte does not set it out clearly in these terms, the form the dilemma takes here is an antinomy that recapitulates the entire argument thus far. The thesis and antithesis can be taken as representing idealism and realism respectively: The thesis is that absolute Reflektierbarkeit is taken to be valid (gelten lassen). This follows straightforwardly from the fact that any possible conceptualisation of being is necessarily the product of an actual (wirklich) ‘factical’ objectification which testifies to an unbridgeable hiatus between existence and being. In one sense it is simply not possible to uphold absolute Reflektierbarkeit consistently, as Fichte puts it: “to reflect constantly and to do nothing other than reflect is impossible both absolutely and relatively speaking, since otherwise we would get nothing done” (ga ii/9, 231) Nonetheless “absolute reflectability is certain and we do not want ever to seduce ourselves into denying this” (ga ii/9, 231). The thesis, in positing the “unrestricted validity” of absolute Reflektierbarkeit entails that no theory of the absolute is possible; idealism leads to a system of “absolute scepticism.”26 The threat to the Wissenschaftslehre is thus identical to that raised in the Bestimmung des Menschen: namely a system of knowledge without any ground, which produces simulacra (Bilder) with no final referent, and which hence lacks any Realität. The antithesis, the denial of validity of absolute Reflektierbarkeit (nicht gelten lassen), is sketched in the briefest possible terms. The basic idea is that of 26

ga ii/9, 240: “I have often formed the intention to present such an absolute scepticism in order to make a fool of those who have pretentions of being philosophers.” Schelling is again clearly meant to be the target here.

“knowledge is existence”

215

a countervailing normative claim which demands rejection of the total validity of absolute Reflektierbarkeit. As Fichte puts it: “I should not accept it to be true. I should regard it as mere appearance and illusion, despite the fact that it remains factically and persists as such and that I must certainly open my eyes in order to realise this.” [ich soll es als wahr nicht gelten lassen: ich soll es ohnerachtet es faktisch bleibt, u nimmer weicht, und ich allerdings die Augen öffnen soll, um dies zu sehen, für blossen Schein, u. Täuschung halten] (ga ii/9, 232). It is initially hard to see the source of this normative claim, but Fichte’s intentions become clearer if we recall the introduction of the problematic of Wissen an sich in terms of predication. As Falk points out, the realist conception of truth expresses not just a hypothesis concerning the transcendent source of knowledge but a “normative” claim. This claim is implicit in the act of positing or predicating something as true, namely that this predication latches on to a fact about the world – that it expresses Realität.27 This normative claim however is necessary if there is to be an “absolute” form of knowledge. Nonetheless it is unable to be fully formulated in theoretical terms; it has to be subsumed under the immediate Evidenz of light. As all forms of reflection have been “deposed” as possible mediations of the absolute, Fichte argues that the only way to safeguard realism is by means of a practical disposition designated by the term belief (Glaube) which functions as the “source of all reality [Realität]” (ga ii/9, 234). The introduction of the term is surprising given its prehistory; Glaube as an unconditioned moral requirement to transcend the knowable was of course the solution to threat of solipsism in the final section of Die Bestimmung des Menschen. There the term was employed to extend the postulate of rational faith to guarantee reality as a whole. The use of the term here as the resolution to the antinomy is clearly different and has a circumscribed sense. Nor does Fichte use the term in Jacobi’s sense as blind faith in the reality of the immediate perceptual world, whose claims are one-sidedly affirmed against all speculation.28 Its function in the wl 1805 is rather to cancel the claim of absolute reflectability: “Belief is unbelief in absolute reflectability: it is therefore conditioned by the fact that one recognises the latter as absolutely factical and grants validity to it on the basis.” [Der Glaube ist Unglaube an die absolute Reflektierbarkeit: er ist daher bedingt dadurch daß man diese, als absolut faktisch, erkenne, und als solche sie gelten lasse] (ga ii/9, 233).

27 28

Cf Falk: “Existenz und Licht”, 51. Vgl. ga ii/9, 234: “blinde[s] Nichtreflektiren.”

216

seymour

To see why this role of limiting absolute Reflektierbarkeit can only be played by a practical disposition it is necessary to examine the results of the propaedeutic thus far. The Existenzlehre is designed to reaffirm the heterogeneity of thought and being exposed in the opening thought experiment, and further to demonstrate the impossibility of bridging the hiatus between the two terms from within the standpoint of reflection. Nonetheless, as Fichte puts its, Glaube “does not create the absolute” (ga ii/9, 233); in the analysis of realism the normative claim of the latter is not itself shown to be essentially self-contradictory. Rather the idea of an absolute presupposition of knowledge shows up precisely as ungraspable. In order thus to make contact with the absolute, existence must have recourse to a “substantial acceptance without the intellectuality of intuition” (ga ii/9, 234). It is with the account of Glaube that the propaedeutic changes register, beginning to take the form of a theory of subjectivity. Unfortunately investigation of this theory goes beyond the scope of this paper, but it can be noted that the basis of the account of subjectivity takes as its foundation the resolution of the antinomy problem and builds on the coordination of idealism and realism provided by Glaube; the practical dimension introduced is fleshed out as an account of the I as the “representation” of the absolute.

Bibliography J.G. Fichte/F.W.J. Schelling: The Philosophical Rupture between Fichte and Schelling: Selected Texts and Correspondence (1800–1802), Vater, Michael G., Wood, David. W. (eds.), Albany, New York, 2012 Falk, Hans-Peter: “Existenz und Licht. Zur Entwicklung des Wissensbegriffs in Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre 1805” in Fichte-Studien 7 (1993) Falk, Hans-Peter: “Der Philosophiebegriff in Fichtes später Wissenschaftslehre”, in Fichte-Studien 12 (1997) Gliwitzky, Hans: “Einleitung”, Wissenschaftslehre 1805. Hamburg, 1984 Janke, Wolfgang, Sein und Reflexion – Grundlagen der kritischen Vernunft, Berlin 1970 Janke, Wolfgang, Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre 1805. Methodisch-systematischer und philosophiegeschichtlicher Kommentar, Darmstadt 1999 Moiso, Francesco: “Il nulla e l’assoluto: La Wissenschaftslehre del 1805 e Philosophie und Religion.” in Annuario filosofico 4 (1988) Schelling, F.W.J., Sämmtliche Werke, ed. Karl Friedrich August Schelling. Stuttgart: Cotta, 1856–1861 Zöller, Günter: “«Intelligenza nella fede». Il fondamento oscuro del sapere nella “Dottrina della Scienza 1805”” in Rivista di Storia della Filosofia 62 (2007,1).

teil 3 / part 3 The First Principles of the Sub-Disciplines of the Wissenschaftslehre

∵

11 The Monogram of the “Sweet Songstress of the Night”: The Hovering of the Imagination as the First Principle of Fichte’s Aesthetics Laure Cahen-Maurel

Abstract This article presents a new reading of Fichte’s aesthetics that differs from a primarily functionalist interpretation of the imagination and art. It demonstrates that the “hovering” (Schweben) of the creative imagination should be viewed as the first principle of Fichte’s aesthetics, in which the latter consists of a triad of the pleasant, the beautiful and the sublime. Moreover, it argues that in the text Ueber Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie (1795/1800) Fichte created a real and original monogram of the hovering creative imagination, a monogram whose theoretical basis stems from Kant’s concept of the monogram in the 1st Critique as a “wavering sketch”. It contends that this overlooked but key artistic and practical example of a monogram opens up new perspectives for Fichtean aesthetics, further confirming that its first principle should be explicitly identified with the theory of the hovering imagination in the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre of 1794/95.

Keywords first principle – aesthetics – hovering – creative imagination – monogram – Kant – Mozart – Schiller

1

Introduction: The Question of Fichte’s Aesthetics

The topic of aesthetics in Fichte’s philosophy and how he himself viewed the domain of art was for a long time ignored in the research. It was frequently held that Fichte was not an “aesthetician” or theoretician of art, and that he was above all concerned with abstract logical thought. Prima facie, that interpretation appears to have support when one sees the contested reception accorded to aesthetics within Fichte’s work compared to the important role ascribed

© Laure Cahen-Maurel, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_012

220

cahen-maurel

to aesthetics by Schelling, Hegel, or the German romantics. Fichte repeatedly announced that he would make aesthetics into one of the main sub-disciplines of his system.1 And yet, unlike the sub-disciplines of natural right, ethics or religion, Fichte apparently did not furnish any scientific or systematic treatise on the general principles of aesthetics during his lifetime. External circumstances, a lack of interest and understanding, a deliberate distancing of his work from Kant – these are some of the reasons that have been put forward to explain this lacuna.2 To be sure, this subject is now no longer terra incognita.3 Commentators in recent decades have tackled this problem of the place of aesthetics within Fichte’s system, but without fully resolving all the issues. The thesis that Fichte disregarded aesthetics outright was already dismissed in the 1990s.4 Currently 1 For example, in the programmatic text, Ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre (1794; hereafter: bwl), J.G. Fichte-Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (hereafter: ga), ed. Reinhard Lauth, Hans Gliwitzky, Erich Fuchs, Peter K. Schneider, Günter Zöller et al. (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1962–2012), vol. i/2, ed. Reinhard Lauth and Hans Jacob, 1969, pp. 150–152; and in the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo, 1798/99 (ga iv/2: 261–266). I would like to thank David W. Wood, as well as Professor Karin de Boer, Luciano Perulli, Stephen Howard, and Elise Fkretich for their feedback at the Leuven Seminar in Classical German Philosophy on 25 April 2019. Their comments on this paper greatly helped to improve it. 2 In France, commentators such as Alexis Philonenko, Alain Renaut and Luc Ferry have notoriously maintained that Fichte wished to substitute aesthetics with the doctrine of right. See, especially, Alain Renaut, Le système du droit. Philosophie et droit dans la pensée de Fichte (Paris: puf, 1986); Luc Ferry, Philosophie politique, 3 vol. (Paris: puf, 1986–1988); id., Homo Aestheticus. L’ invention du goût à l’ âge démocratique (Paris: Grasset, 1990). 3 Luigi Pareyson was one of the first researchers to pay serious attention to Fichte’s aesthetics. See Luigi Pareyson, Fichte. Il sistema della libertà (Milan: Mursia, 1976; 1st ed. 1950), and L’Estetica di Fichte (Milan: Angelo Guerini, 1997). For more recent studies see, among others, Ives Radrizzani, “Von der Ästhetik der Urteilskraft zur Ästhetik der Einbildungskraft, oder von der kopernikanischen Revolution der Ästhetik bei Fichte”, in: Erich Fuchs, Marco Ivaldo, Giovanni Moretto (eds.), Der transzendental-philosophische Zugang zur Wirklichkeit (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 2001), pp. 341–359, and id., in collaboration with Faustino Oncina Coves (eds.), Fichte und die Kunst, Fichte-Studien 41 (2014); Petra Lohmann, “Die Funktionen der Kunst und des Künstlers in der Philosophie Johann Gottlieb Fichtes”, in Fichte-Studien 25 (2005): 113–132; Giorgia Cecchinato, Fichte und das Problem einer Ästhetik (Würzburg: Ergon, 2009); Daniel Breazeale, “Against Art? Fichte on Aesthetic Experience and Fine Art”, in jtla ( Journal of the Faculty of Letters, The University of Tokyo, Aesthetics) 38 (2013): 25–42; Elise Derroitte, “L’esthétique pulsionnelle de Fichte comme théorie de l’ auto-création”, Revue philosophique de la France et de l’étranger 140 (2015): 37–56; Claude Piché, “La lettre tue particulièrement dans la Doctrine de la science”, in Laval théologique et philosophique, vol. 72/1 (2016), pp. 83–99. 4 See, for example, Claude Piché, “L’esthétique a-t-elle une place dans la philosophie de Fichte?”, in Les Cahiers de philosophie (1995): 181–201.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

221

it no longer seems incongruous to speak of a “Fichtean aesthetics”, and even of an aesthetics that may claim to a certain amount of philosophical originality. A number of eminent commentators, like Daniel Breazeale, Ives Radrizzani or Claude Piché, rightfully underscore the propaedeutic or pedagogic function and anthropological scope of aesthetic experience in the Wissenschaftslehre, yet they also continue to question the significance and role of art and the imagination in Fichte’s thought.5 Such a functionalist interpretation of the imagination and art is indeed based on a number of statements by Fichte, according to which the aesthetic way of looking at things provides a means for educating people to freedom by tearing them away from the empirical world of nature and raising them to a higher ethical sphere. Yet this reading sometimes suggests that the philosophical science of aesthetics, i.e. the theoretical treatment of the principles of aesthetic experience, should not itself be considered an integral and independent branch of the Wissenschaftslehre, and that Fichte’s real aim with regard to aesthetics was to include it under the sub-discipline of ethics. This article presents a new reading of Fichte’s aesthetics that differs from a primarily functionalist interpretation of the imagination and art. I intend to supplement and extend the latter reading by highlighting the independent position of aesthetics – understood as the philosophical science of art and beauty – and its importance in Fichte’s work on the basis of a closer examination of the principle according to which art inherently harmonizes or integrates the empirical with the rational. Of course, understanding aesthetics as a mediator between nature and freedom, or the empirical and the transcendental spheres, is not new, and in this respect Fichte’s conception of aesthetics should once again be brought into dialogue with Kant. However, I would like to add an entirely new element to the Kantian reading of Fichte by focusing on an example found in the published text Ueber Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie (On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, 1795/1800), whose deeper philosophical significance has so far been completely overlooked in the research: the example of the “sweet songstress of the night.”6 As we will see, with this particular example I claim that Fichte has created a real and original monogram of the “hovering” (Schweben) of the creative imagination, a monogram whose theoretical basis stems from Kant’s concept of the monogram in the 1st Critique as a “wavering sketch” or indeterminate inner sil5 See, for example, Daniel Breazeale, “Against Art?”; Ives Radrizzani, “Art et philosophie chez Fichte”, in Fichte und die Kunst, Fichte-Studien, vol. 41 (2014), p. 183; Claude Piché, “La lettre tue particulièrement”, p. 86. On a more anthropological reading of Fichtean aesthetics as an “existential aesthetics of self-creation”, see also Elise Derroitte, “L’esthétique pulsionnelle de Fichte comme théorie de l’ auto-création”, p. 38 ff. 6 J.G. Fichte, Ueber Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie (hereafter: gb), ga i/6: 346.

222

cahen-maurel

houette.7 Accordingly, I argue that this overlooked but key artistic example or monogram opens up new perspectives for Fichtean aesthetics, confirming that its first principle should be explicitly identified with the theory of the hovering imagination in the Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre of 1794/95. Or to put it another way: the Grundlage furnishes the conception of the Fichtean imagination in theory, whereas the “sweet songstress of the night” in On the Spirit and the Letter furnishes a vivid example of the Fichtean imagination in practice. Both texts are philosophical counterparts, and this monogram example is a perfect illustration of Fichte’s contention in the Grundlage that “the power of imagination can be grasped only by the power of imagination.”8 Moreover, it is not surprising that this Fichtean monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night” has hitherto escaped the attention of researchers. For it too directly belongs in the Kantian tradition of the schematism of the imagination as an elusive form of art, one that is “hidden […] in the depths of the human soul” – to use the famous expression from The Critique of Pure Reason.9

2

The Theory of the Imagination in the 1794/95 Grundlage

If we take seriously Fichte’s statement in Ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre (1794) that aesthetics belongs within the scope of his philosophical system, then we could imagine that he might have presented the foundations for his aesthetics in the 1794/95 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre). According to Fichte, this one single text on the epistemology of the I, consisting of two parts, a theoretical and a practical, was all that was needed before he could proceed to the detailed formulation of the particular sciences or sub-disciplines. The Grundlage is known to be an extremely speculative, abstract and logical text, yet it does indeed contain the outlines of a genuinely philosophical theory of the imagination that tends to be neglected or less treated, even by Fichte specialists.10 Scattered 7

8

9 10

Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft (hereafter: KrV ), B 598; Critique of Pure Reason, trans. and ed. Paul Guyer and Allen W. Wood (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), p. 552. Cf. B 181 and B 861. J.G. Fichte, gwl, ga i/2: 415. I am grateful to Professor Daniel Breazeale for allowing me to quote from the manuscript of his new English translation of the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (forthcoming with Oxford University Press, 2021). Ibid., B 180; Eng. trans., p. 273. Although Fichte’s account of the imagination has drawn more interest in recent years, a number of commentators tend to favour the exposition in the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo, compared to the one in the Grundlage. See, for example, Augustin Dumont,

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

223

throughout the text are a series of very specific characteristics of the power of the imagination, which when brought together, provide an important foundation for the transcendental account of aesthetics. I will present here four main characteristics of the Fichtean theory of the imagination that can be found in the text of the Grundlage. 2.1 A Creative Power of the I Like in Kant, Fichte’s focus is on the imagination as a productive or creative power (die produktive or schaffende Einbildungskraft). This function of the imagination is understood as an absolutely free, original, self-active and independent power of the I. Fichte elevates it to the rank of a philosophical faculty of the transcendental subject, contrasting it with the empirical imagination, which is a prisoner of the given, and merely an imitator or reproducer. The empirical imagination depends on perception and memory and is subject to the laws of association. On the other hand: All human beings share in [the creative power of imagination] (schaffende Einbildungskraft), since without it they would also never have possessed a single representation (Vorstellung); but it is by no means the case that most human beings have control over this power of creative imagination and are able to employ it to create (erschaffen) something purposefully; should the longed-for image (das verlangte Bild) suddenly appear before their soul at some fortunate moment, like a bolt of lightning, they are not

L’ opacité du sensible chez Fichte et Novalis: théories et pratiques de l’imagination transcendantale à l’ épreuve du langage (Grenoble: Jérôme Millon, 2013); and Virginia LópezDomínguez, “The Imagination in Kant and Fichte”, in Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte (online), vol. 17 (2018). Commentators presenting a treatment of the imagination in the Grundlage include: Rudolf A. Makkreel, “Fichte’s Dialectical Imagination”, in Daniel Breazeale, Tom Rockmore (eds.), Fichte: Historical Contexts/Contemporary Controversies (New York: Humanities Press, 1994), pp. 7–16; Jean-Christophe Goddard, “Introduction”, in Fichte, La Destination de l’ homme (Paris: Flammarion, 1995), pp. 18–25; Christoph Asmuth, “ ‘Das Schweben ist der Quell aller Realität’. Platner, Fichte, Schlegel und Novalis über die produktive Einbildungskraft”, in e-Journal Philosophie der Psychologie (2005; http://www​ .jp.philo.at/texte/AsmuthC1.pdf); Andreas Schmidt, “Fichtes Begriff der ‘Einbildungskraft’ und seine Maimonschen Ursprünge”, in: Michael Forster, Johannes Korngiebel, Klaus Vieweg (Hg.), Idealismus und Romantik in Jena. Figuren und Konzepte zwischen 1794 und 1807 (München: Fink, 2018), pp. 11–23; and Johannes Haag, “Imagination and Objectivity in Fichte’s Early Wissenschaftslehre”, in Gerad Gentry, Konstantin Pollok (eds.), The Imagination in German Idealism and Romanticism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019), pp. 109–128. See too the recent discussion on Fichte’s theory of the imagination in relation to his Bildlehre in Fichte-Studien 48: 3–130.

224

cahen-maurel

able to hold it fast and investigate it … It is this power (Vermögen) that determines whether one philosophizes with or without spirit.11 In other words, the productive imagination is creative insofar as it generates voluntary forms of possible intuitions: it produces representations or new Bilder – artistic as well as philosophical images. As the concluding line of this passage from the Grundlage claims, in order to philosophize with spirit, that is to say, to be truly original even in philosophy (i.e. beyond the field of mere art), genuine philosophers for Fichte must have recourse to the faculty of the productive or creative imagination. They must also have the ability to apprehend the rapidly passing play of the imagination and unify it into a concept. 2.2 The “Most Marvellous” Power of the I For Fichte, a second characteristic of the imagination is that it is the “most marvellous” power of the soul or the I. The German adjective used by Fichte is wunderbar, “marvellous” or “wondrous”, in the strong sense of the miraculous (which comes from Wunder, a miracle or wonder). As Johannes Haag remarks, in the Grundlage “the imagination is brought into the picture first as a nameless ‘most wondrous power of the self’”,12 before this unnamed power is finally designated as the faculty of the productive imagination: By means of its most wonderful power (durch das wunderbarste seiner Vermögen) (one that we shall determine more closely at the appropriate time), the positing I brings the vanishing accident …13 With this, we have, at the same time, begun conducting an experiment within us with the marvellous power of productive imagination (mit dem wunderbaren Vermögen) …14 This truly “wondrous” or miraculous character of the creative imagination is due to the fact that it relates to the ability to rise above nature, above the apprehension of a given object of the senses. Another reason why Fichte designates the creative imagination as wunderbar is also because it is related to mystery. However, this does not mean that we are dealing with mere fantasy (Phan11 12 13 14

J.G. Fichte, Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre (1794/95; hereafter: gwl), §4, ga i/2: 415–416; Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale). Johannes Haag, “Imagination and Objectivity in Fichte’s Early Wissenschaftslehre”, p. 117. Ibid., p. 350; Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale). Ibid., p. 353.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

225

tasie). Fantasy is a different function of the imagination, one that is negatively connoted as the involuntary production of fantastic or dream images, which are disconnected from reality (as opposed to the voluntary production of new images). On the other hand, in terms of mystery, the creative imagination (Einbildungskraft) still remains a matter of intellectual activity, of the normative and controlled transcendental productivity. Moreover, by calling the productive imagination the “most marvellous” power of the I, Fichte is again following in the footsteps of Kant. As mentioned earlier, Kant famously defines the schematism of the imagination in the Critique of Pure Reason as a “hidden art (eine verborgene Kunst) in the depths of the human soul.”15 Fichte likewise takes up for his own account, and almost to the very letter, this Kantian idea of the Einbildungskraft as a “hidden art”. Not only does the Grundlage underline the fact that this creative power of the human mind is mostly unknown: Fichte speaks of the productive imagination as an “almost always misunderstood” power (verkanntes Vermögen).16 But by associating it with the wondrous, unknown, marvellous, and the flash of lightning, Fichte is also highlighting an essential convergence between the aesthetic point of view – that of genius – and the philosophical point of view. For in Fichte there is a substantial affinity between the imagination and the spirit that is even more essential than in Kant. This not only holds for the artistic or aesthetic spirit, but also for the pure spirit or reason. The creative imagination is the source of all transcendental spontaneity for Fichte, and not the understanding, as it is in Kant. According to Fichte, understanding is a much more passive and static faculty that only fixes the concept; it determines and designates with language what the imagination has actively produced. The imagination, on the other hand, constitutes the dynamic element of the human spirit, the origin and foundation of all representations, and therefore of all consciousness and intellectual life, and the condition for the spirit’s entry into time: It is this power [the most wonderful power of imagination] alone that makes life and consciousness possible, and, in particular, consciousness as a continuous temporal series … the marvellous power of productive imagination, which will soon be explained, and without which nothing whatsoever in the human mind can be explained – may very well prove to be the foundation of the entire mechanism of the human mind.17 15 16 17

Kant, KrV, B180; Critique of Pure Reason, p. 273. J.G. Fichte, gwl, § 4, ga i/2: 350; Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale). Ibid., pp. 350 and 353.

226

cahen-maurel

2.3 An Infinite Hovering A third characteristic of Fichte’s theory of the creative imagination is that it hovers or oscillates. The very fact of movement is inscribed in the activity of the imagination itself, its structure is dynamic and processual. It is relatively well-known that Fichte chose to call the unusual movement of the productive imagination as “hovering” (Schweben): The power of imagination oscillates or hovers (schwebt) in the middle between determination and non-determination, between the finite and the infinite … This hovering (Schweben) designates the imagination through its product; in the course of its oscillation or hovering and by means of the same, the power of imagination, as it were, produces this product.18 The creative imagination oscillates between opposing directions and ultimately remains in an in-between space where everything is still undetermined, and yet it seeks to find a synthesis. Here Fichte expands, once again, on a Kantian idea that is specifically encountered in the notion of the monogram. In Kant, the verb schweben is only found in two marginal instances,19 whereas in Fichte, Schweben, hovering or oscillation, becomes a central and substantive element of his philosophy, insofar as it creates or generates something new.20 Even though it is related to the topic of schematism, Kant included the most extensive discussion of the hovering movement of the monogram in the subject of the aesthetic ideal of the artistic imagination (as opposed to the ideal of reason), when dealing with the “creatures of imagination” in its free lawfulness. Kant writes: … no one can give an explanation or intelligible concept [of them]; they are, as it were, monograms, individual traits, though not determined through any assignable rule, constituting more a wavering sketch (schwe18 19

20

Ibid., p. 360 (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale). Kant, KrV, A 570/ B 598, aa iii: 385; and Kritik der Urteilskraft, §17, aa v: 235. Kant rather speaks of the free “play” (Spiel) of the imagination, understood in the mechanical sense of an ease of movement. Neither Rudolf A. Makkreel, nor Jean-Christophe Goddard (nor any other scholar as far as I am aware), examine Fichte’s practical example in the text On the Spirit and Letter of Philosophy, which I have called a “monogram”. However, I do agree with both these scholars that Fichte’s idea of the “hovering” (Schweben) of the imagination should be brought into connection with Kant’s idea of the hovering in the monogram. See Makkreel, “Fichte’s Dialectical Imagination”, p. 9; and Goddard, “Introduction”, p. 22.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

227

bende Zeichnung), as it were, which mediates between various experiences (im Mittel verschiedener Erfahrungen), than a determinate image.21 In Kant’s definition, the imaginative monogram brings under the unity of a single sensible figure – a “silhouette” (Schattenbild)22 or an “outline” (Umriß)23 – a set of scattered and disparate traits that cannot be subsumed under the rule of any concept. The individual features of the monogram are themselves determinate, but the figure as a whole, its identity, remains indeterminate, hovering in the middle. This makes it uncommunicable and the figure that this inner silhouette traces in the subject’s imagination does not correspond to any real, existing individual. In this regard, Fichte’s view of the products that are generated by the imagination is quite consistent with Kant’s view in the Critique of Pure Reason. Nevertheless, Fichte’s conception may still be distinguished from Kant’s view in at least three central respects. 1). For Fichte (as we shall see), the monogram of the imagination can be communicated, provided that one exercises in turn one’s own power of the imagination. 2). Its individual traits are not only sensible or empirically finite data, but beyond that it has spiritual and infinite features. 3). The monogram as the product of the imagination precisely hovers between two extremes that are opposed.24 We should also certainly see in the Fichtean association of the creative imagination with this activity of hovering a reminder of a certain cultural polemic at the end of the 18th century against the “unbridled” imagination that prevents the human being from properly thinking and acting. Fichte’s creative “hovering of the imagination” therefore retains in a certain sense a reference to the alleged erratic ways of fantasy or even perhaps of Schwärmerei (exaltation). However, in contrast to these more negative aspects, Fichte’s theory of the hovering imagination above all underscores the positive elements of this faculty, with the notion of hovering pointing to the constant change, agility and fluidity of the living and dynamic imagination, which carries out interconnections and syntheses that make the very activity of intelligence possible. Thus, the life of the creative imagination is defined by the relationship and transition between two opposing directions. Or to put it another way, the life 21 22 23 24

Kant, KrV, A 570/ B 598, aa iii: 384–385; Critique of Pure Reason, p. 552. Ibid., p. 385; Eng. trans., p. 552. Ibid., A 833/ B 861, aa iii: 539; Eng. trans., p. 692. On this difference between Fichte’s concept of the imagination and Kant’s, see Andreas Schmidt, “Fichtes Begriff der ‘Einbildungskraft’ und seine Maimonschen Ursprünge”. Schmidt sees in Maimon the historical origin of the Fichtean connection between imagination and contradiction, topics that seem unrelated in Kant, or that Kant at least did not explicitly link.

228

cahen-maurel

of the creative imagination is defined by the diffraction of its activity in two directions: from the finite to the infinite, and inversely, from the infinite to the finite; or from determination to non-determination, from non-determination to determination. This hovering of the imagination is therefore not a transition between separate and abstract opposites, but between the two directions of the composite or the living whole that the imagination forms in itself. This hovering process of the creative imagination is constant and necessarily unfinished: its power of oscillation never terminates, not even once a synthesis is found. According to Fichte’s philosophy, the products of the imagination become fixed and determined as concepts by the power of reason (Vernunft), which are then held or preserved by the understanding (Verstand). 2.4 A Power of Synthesis – the Reconciliation of the Ideal and the Real Lastly, a fourth main characteristic of Fichte’s theory of the power of the creative imagination is an aspect I have just mentioned: the productive imagination is not just a faculty that simply hovers, but it is also a faculty of synthesis. It carries out a reconciliation between opposites, between the ideal and the real. The Grundlage indeed characterizes the creative imagination as precisely that power of the I that allows us to integrate and synthesize into our knowledge and cognition, at a deeper level than mere abstract logic, two opposing elements. Examples of these include the crucial syntheses of the I and the Not-I, the ideal and the real, or if you will: the self and nature. The imagination forms a synthesis that is capable of embracing the two antitheses within it, it relativizes and preserves them by cancelling their absoluteness and discovering the element of their identity: This power is almost always misunderstood, but it is the power that combines into a unity things constantly posited in opposition to each other, the power that intervenes between moments that would have to mutually annul each other, and retains both … The task was to unite two terms posited in opposition to each other, the I and the Not-I. They can be completely united by the power of imagination, which unites items posited in opposition to each other.25 In this synthesis of the imagination, that is the only power capable of resolving the contradiction, the two opposites come together, clash rather than suppress

25

J.G. Fichte, gwl, ga i/2: 350 and 361; Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale).

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

229

each other, which at the same time imposes a limit on each other. The synthetic activity of the imagination takes the technical name of Wechselwirkung, “reciprocal action”. At the same time as it generates contradiction and alternation (Wechsel) between the two opposites, the imagination is the decisive factor of their reunion and reconciliation. They remain distinct, but the imagination ultimately overcomes their contradictoriness by finding in each of the two something that they have in common or finding the meeting point at which they organically intersect. Let us summarize our brief overview of Fichte’s theory of the imagination in the Grundlage. The productive imagination in Fichte’s view: 1). generates new products and is therefore original or creative; 2). Although it is frequently misunderstood or even unknown to us, it is the most marvellous (wunderbar) human faculty, common to both art and philosophy; 3). It is distinguished by its hovering movement, which forms a transition between two opposing directions, one that is not a purely abstract, linear or mechanical movement, but is a living movement; 4). The productive imagination is the faculty of overcoming contradictions insofar as it is able to reconcile or create a synthesis of opposites, such as the ideal and real, the finite and the infinite.

3

The Triad of Fichte’s Aesthetics

As previously noted, for many commentators, Fichte apparently did not write any systematic philosophical treatise on art. They consider that a genetic deduction of the principles of aesthetics from the foundational principles established in the 1794 Grundlage is not to be found in his writings. However, the sub-discipline of aesthetics is already briefly, but explicitly, mentioned by Fichte in the concluding part of the 1794 published text Ueber den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre. When announcing the relationship between the overall main system of the Wissenschaftslehre and the applications of its foundational principles in the different particular sciences, Fichte singles out aesthetics, and states that it consists of a triad of subjects: “In this second part [i.e. the Practical Part] the foundations are laid for [a] new and thoroughly elaborated theor[y] of the pleasant, the beautiful, and the sublime (des Angenehmen, des Schönen, und Erhabenen) …, the principles of which are material as well as formal.”26 Thus, here Fichte also seems to announce that the traditional triad of the pleasant, 26

J.G. Fichte, bwl, ga i/2: 151; Concerning the Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre, Eng. trans. Daniel Breazeale, in: Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings, trans. and ed. Daniel Breazeale (Ithaca & London: Cornell University Press, 1988), p. 135.

230

cahen-maurel

beautiful and the sublime will form the main subject matter of his aesthetics. These three predicates about the nature of aesthetic experience are in Fichte’s thought nothing but the three modalities of the expression of the inner spirit or imagination that becomes expressed in and through the outer letter of a work of art. Indeed, Fichte had reflected already on this aesthetic triad in his unpublished notes entitled Practische Philosophie from 1793.27 Moreover, in terms of detailed published texts related to the field of aesthetics there does exist one highly interesting writing in Fichte’s corpus. Written in 1795 for Schiller’s journal Die Horen (The Hours), this text is devoted in its entirety to the question of art, and consists of a series of three fictive letters, to which Fichte gave the title: On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy.28 Certain commentators have already pointed out that it is the most significant work of Fichte’s aesthetics and for this reason deserves special attention.29 It should be further remarked that although it is often considered a so-called “popular work”, it nevertheless belongs to the early Jena phase of “scientific philosophy”, in the sense of philosophy as Wissenschaftslehre. That is to say, it is a text that is dated after Fichte’s discovery of a single, first, unconditioned principle of all human knowledge – the “I am”, which expresses the I’s activity of absolute selfpositing. Dated 1795 (but only published in 1800), On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy is chronologically situated between the 1794 Grundlage and the 1798 System of Ethics. In passing it should also be noted that section § 31 of the latter work also contains an important paragraph on which many commentators 27 28 29

On the considerations entailed in the 1793 notes Practische Philosophie, see Giorgia Cecchinato, Fichte und das Problem einer Ästhetik (Würzburg: Ergon, 2007), p. 46ff. It was published only in 1800 after being rejected by Schiller, a rejection that started the so-called Horenstreit between the two thinkers. See, for example, Luigi Pareyson, L’Estetica di Fichte; Elise Derroitte, “L’esthétique pulsionnelle de Fichte comme théorie de l’ auto-création”; and Paul Gordon, Art as the Absolute: Art’s Relation to Metaphysics in Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel and Schopenhauer (London, New York: Bloomsbury, 2015), ch. 3: “Fichte: On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy”, p. 56. To be more precise, the aesthetic question is thematically treated in four main works published in Fichte’s life-time and some unpublished notes from 1793 entitled Practische Philosophie. The first of the published works is the 1793 opuscule titled Beweis der Unrechtmässigkeit des Büchernachdrucks. Ein Räsonnement und eine Parabel and published in the Berliner Monatsschrift. There the products of art (Fichte takes the example of a painting from Corregio, The Holy Night) are more marginal instances with regard to the main subject matter of the reproduction of books and intellectual property, but Fichte offers a parable that he had to invent in all probability. Then in 1794, he published the Grundlage, which furnished his first real philosophical exploration and exposition of the “hovering of the imagination” and introduced (albeit very briefly) the topic of the sublime. In addition to the Grundlage, he also published, in 1800, On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy and the System of Ethics (1798).

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

231

rely. Here Fichte sets out the “duties of the artist” and theorizes the pedagogical function played by the intermediate sphere of aesthetics from the perspective of the architectonic of the Wissenschaftslehre.30 Fichte’s key text On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy raises the following important questions: what is the origin of the artist’s creative ability, and how does a work of art succeed in powerfully and mysteriously attracting the spectator? Fichte does not address here the question of judgments of taste, nor the artist’s real or practical activity, i.e. the technical execution of an aesthetic idea in the incarnated and determinate form of a concrete specific artwork. Rather, what Fichte addresses is the power of imagination,31 or what is often simply known as artistic inspiration – the “spirit” (Geist) in the broad aesthetic sense of an “animating principle” (belebende Prinzip)32 or “vitalizing force” (belebende Kraft).33 This is synonymous with genius, which Kant had already defined as the natural aptitude (Anlage) or ideal activity of the artist, e.g. the ideal element insofar as it is active in the artist’s subjectivity. Aesthetics may form a triad of the topics of the pleasant, beautiful and sublime, but it is imperative to also ask the following question: what is the Grundsatz or first principle of Fichte’s aesthetics – is there such a first principle, or is there none, or are there perhaps even three first principles? Here we can already see that it might be worth investigating in the future a possible link between the triad or all three first principles of Fichte’s 1794 Grundlage, and the triad of the pleasant, beautiful and sublime. It would take us too far beyond the scope of this article to treat that question in detail. However, as far as the question of a first or most foundational principle is concerned, based on the two main texts, the Grundlage and On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, I would argue that the hovering productive imagination is actually the first principle of Fichte’s aesthetics as a whole. In this regard, the outer triad of the pleasant, beautiful and sublime are expressions of the work of the inner hovering imagination. Moreover, in terms of the scientific text of the Grundlage, the productive imagination actually belongs to the third main principle of the 30 31

32 33

See J.G. Fichte, Das System der Sittenlehre, nach den Prinzipien der Wissenschaftslehre, §31, ga i/5: 307 ff. Not only in the production of artworks but also in the reception of the same. On this, see, among others, Ives Radrizzani, “Von der Ästhetik der Urteilskraft zur Ästhetik der Einbildungskraft, oder von der kopernikanischen Revolution der Ästhetik bei Fichte”. Kant, ku, § 49, aa v: 313; Critique of the Power of Judgment, p. 192. J.G. Fichte, gb, ga i/6: 336; On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, Eng. trans. Elizabeth Rubenstein (modified), in: David Simpson (ed.), German Aesthetic and Literary Criticism: Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Schopenhauer, Hegel (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1984), p. 77.

232

cahen-maurel

Wissenschaftslehre’s triad of foundational principles. That is to say, it is the synthetic principle in the “original threefold act of consciousness qua self-positing (thesis), counter-positing (anti-thesis) and limitation (synthesis)”.34 Thus, the imagination is situated both at the end of the abstract (logical) philosophical analysis, and the beginning of the concrete, substantial, or pragmatic activity of the mind, as the first fact of consciousness.35 But the productive imagination does not exist in a vacuum, it is of course generated by particular human beings. In this respect, it is always the productive imagination of a particular person or Ich, say of the I of the artist or even philosopher, if they are able to produce original works of art or texts. Since the productive imagination creates new and innovative works, one could also say that in the sphere of art and aesthetics the first principle is genius. As Kant showed,36 fine art can have no other foundation than this source of creating new images, and the “ability to come up with both content for works of art and forms for the expression of this content that will … manifest the freedom of the imagination”37 of the artist’s I. For Fichte, in contrast to Kant, this is precisely the brace that holds together both art and philosophy or science – where the imagination and genius are at work in both domains. In other words: the first principle of the sub-discipline of aesthetics – the hovering power of the productive imagination of the human I – is actually the third principle in the scientific system of the Wissenschaftslehre. Hence, this shows us the path leading from the main Wissenschaftslehre down to the subdiscipline of aesthetics. After the above brief but more theoretical account of the productive imagination in accordance with the epistemology of the self-positing I in the Grundlage of 1794/95, we can now move to Fichte’s highly practical example in his 34 35

36

37

Johannes Haag, “Imagination and Objectivity in Fichte’s Early Wissenschaftslehre”, p. 114. As Johannes Haag puts it: “This is the true ‘terminal result’ …: The oscillating of imagination, i.e. the first fact of consciousness – which is not merely an artificial, but a real fact – thus facilitates the complex synthetic reconstruction of the principle of consciousness that is the pragmatic history of the human mind. It can serve as the starting point of this process since only the power of imagination, oscillating between opposites and thus mitigating and mediating between them, can give reality (not merely possibility in thought) to the opposites themselves”. Ibid., p. 118. It is well-known that Kant already claimed that fine art is always a product of genius, and that genius forms in the Kantian theory of art the “animating principle” that gives the dead letter of a material work “spirit” or “soul”, and by which nature gives entirely new rules to art. See Kant, ku, § 49, aa v: 313. Paul Guyer, “Editor’s Introduction”, in: Kant, Critique of the Power of Judgment, ed. Paul Guyer, trans. Paul Guyer and Eric Matthews (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), p. xxxiv.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

233

near-contemporary text, On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy (1795/1800). I maintain that Fichte’s practical example of the creative imagination in this text is a figure or monogram in the Kantian tradition.

4

The Monogram of the “Sweet Songstress of the Night”

Being a more popular writing, Fichte’s text of On the Spirit and the Letter provides us with a wealth of concrete sensory images, artistic experiences, cultural references, yet it also philosophically discusses the role of the imagination.38 Among all the different artistic evocations, and ancient and contemporary references, we find one highly unusual and singular image. Although this image shares distinct parallels with other cultural figures, it will ultimately prove to be an original artistic example that was invented by Fichte himself. At first glance, this example may seem to be altogether simple and naïve, but it is worth examining in close detail. This creation, or should I say, this creature of the Fichtean imagination, is given a central place in the work because it is intended to exemplify the special character of genius’s ‘aesthetic state of mind’ (aesthetische Stimmung). Fichte even gives this new artistic creation a name, calling it: “the sweet songstress of the night”; in German: die liebliche Sängerin der Nacht. Somewhat surprisingly, it appears that Fichte’s example of the songstress has been completely neglected in the research so far. Nevertheless, I contend that the figure of the “sweet songstress of the night” becomes in Fichte’s text a specific and performative example of the productive imagination. As cited in my introduction above, the Grundlage had already alerted us to the fact that “the power of imagination can be grasped only by the power of imagination”.39 Thus, in addition to exercising our reason, judgment, and philosophical understanding, it is clear that if the philosopher Fichte has genuinely put his theory into practice in his own texts, then we will also have to employ our own creative power of the imagination in order to fully grasp this Fichtean image. In other words, the example of the “sweet songstress of the night” is not to be merely discursively conceived as a fact, or as something passively given, or merely to be read about and intellectually grasped. Rather, as just mentioned, each reader will have to work and independently exercise their own cre38

39

Marco Ivaldo is one of the few commentators to discuss the role of the imagination in this text. See Marco Ivaldo, “Die Rolle der Einbildungskraft in Fichtes Überlegungen über Geist und Buchstaben aus den Jahren 1794–1795”, Fichte-Studien 42 (2016): 49–65. J.G. Fichte, gwl, ga i/2: 415; Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Engl. trans. Daniel Breazeale).

234

cahen-maurel

ative power of the imagination in order to construct Fichte’s “sweet songstress” for themselves. The interpretation of such a product of Fichte’s imagination therefore becomes genetic in this way. It brings to light and renders apparent as a principle – as the first formal principle of aesthetics – the artistic function of the imagination itself. As we will also see, the monogram of the sweet songstress of the night also organically accords with the threefold nature of Fichte’s doctrine of aesthetics. That is to say, this example is a synthesis of the above-discussed “triplicity” of art – namely, of the triad of the pleasant, the beautiful and the sublime. The poetic invention of “the sweet songstress of the night” in On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy therefore testifies in an even more concrete manner to the originality of Fichte’s aesthetics. However, before examining in a step-by-step manner the three different elements of this triad of aesthetics that are embodied in Fichte’s monogram of “the sweet songstress of the night”, let me simply first quote the passage in question at some length. This is how Fichte presents the example of the “sweet songstress of the night” in his text On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy. He begins by asking the reader to think about the following example of an aesthetic mood (aesthetische Stimmung): As a fitting image (passendes Bild) for the aesthetic mood, imagine the sweet songstress of the night. Imagine, as you can perfectly well do along with the poet, her soul as pure song; her spirit (Geist) as a striving (Streben) to form the most perfect chord, and her single tones as the representations (Vorstellungen) of her soul. Unconscious of herself, the direction of this songstress’s spirit drives (treibt) her up and down the entire musical scale, and her spirit gradually develops its whole capacity (Vermögen) through the most manifold chords. Each new chord lies on the ladder of this development and is in harmony with the original drive (Urtrieb) of the songstress, which she is unaware of, because we have not given her any other representations than the tones themselves; she cannot make any judgements about its connection with what is for her a chance chord; in the same way as the direction of the aesthetic drive remains hidden (verborgen) to our eyes … But her inner and hidden life drives her onward to the following tones … Her life hovers (schwebt) on the surging waves of aesthetic feeling, just as the artistic life of every true genius does.40

40

J.G. Fichte, gb, ga i/6: 346–347; On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, pp. 83–84.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

235

How exactly are we to understand Fichte’s example here of the “sweet songstress of the night”? Who or what is she exactly? From a strictly aesthetic viewpoint, Fichte’s sweet songstress of the night constitutes one single figure – that of a Sängerin – a female singer. If we remain at this initial stage, we merely take into consideration the unity and natural unconsciousness of the aesthetic mental state. Fichte first encourages us to grasp this state “along with the poet”, by means of words. In such a state, the singer unfolds the essence of her soul, traversing up and down the entire musical scale in order to produce the most perfect harmony. In the motif of the musical scale and the double movement of elevation and descent, oscillating from the base level to the apex and back, we find again the image of the hovering and diffraction of the productive imagination in two opposing directions, which is central to the Grundlage. The ‘thing’ or spirit that Fichte wants to make us actively imagine here is first of all based on the written “letter” of his own text. In this regard, the song of Fichte’s songstress of the night, is not something externally uttered or heard. That is to say, it is a song that is not actually sung, it is a song without external sounds – it is a purely internal form of music that must be produced and imagined by each reader for him or herself. This is the exemplification in act of the ästhetische Stimmung, where the singer’s activity and manner of being is inwardly grasped – from within her “soul” (Seele) as it were. Fichte explicitly notes that her soul is “pure song”. If the example of the songstress is actually a new and original invention on Fichte’s part, as we are claiming here, then it would be because his philosophy is above all interested in the productive or creative imagination, rather than the mere reproductive imagination. The latter of course is simply a copy of an already given model and is not at all original. Furthermore, if this example of the sweet songstress of the night is truly an innovative production of the artist as an original genius, then it is possible for the philosopher, according to Fichte himself in § 31 of The System of Ethics, to elevate the unconscious aesthetic state of the artist into a fully aware and philosophical form of consciousness.41 Thus, for the purposes of philosophical analysis, it should also be possible for the philosopher to break down the aes41

See J.G. Fichte, Das System der Sittenlehre, nach den Prinzipien der Wissenschaftslehre, §31, ga i/5: 307; The System of Ethics According to the Principles of the Wissenschaftslehre, trans. and ed. Daniel Breazeale and Günter Zöller (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 334: “Perhaps one cannot express what fine art does in any better way than by saying that it makes the transcendental point of view the ordinary point of view. – The philosopher elevates himself and others to this point of view by means of work and in accordance with a rule. The beautiful spirit (der schöne Geist) occupies this viewpoint without thinking of it in any determinate manner; he is acquainted with no other viewpoint.”

236

cahen-maurel

thetic unity of this single united figure of the songstress into its different components. That is to say, if the example of the songstress is modelled on Fichte’s conception of aesthetics as a triad, then we – as transcendental philosophers – should be able to analyse this example into the three components of the pleasant, the beautiful and the sublime – and ultimately again perceive the harmony of these as a unified synthesis. On the other hand, if the work of art is not a work worthy of that name, then its elements will be disharmonious and there is no real unified synthesis. My hypothesis is that Fichte’s figure of the sweet songstress of the night forms a new and original synthesis comprised of three distinct or even apparently opposing figures. I argue that these three component figures are already partially found in Kant, Mozart and Schiller respectively. However, none of these three figures – when taken separately – are fully able to account for the uniqueness of Fichte’s songstress of the night. Accordingly, Fichte’s “sweet songstress of the night” articulates and composes in a completely fresh and original way three already existent figures. Even though Fichte’s songstress may initially rely on a lower form of the imagination that is merely reproductive or imitative – because it has recourse to certain figures that already exist in Kant, Mozart and Schiller – it is ultimately a new and original figure, and therefore ascends to the higher stage of the creative imagination. In this regard, we not only have to see those elements that the songstress shares in common, but especially how it is different from them. If we fail to see how Fichte’s “sweet songstress of the night” differs from these three earlier figures, and actually contains something new and unique, it could be a sign that we ourselves have not sufficiently engaged our own higher power of the productive imagination. 4.1 The Nightingale and The Pleasant Let us begin the process of philosophical analysis, decomposing the originally synthetic and unified figure of Fichte’s example into its related artistic elements. First of all, if we remain at the literal letter of the text, particularly at the level of mere factual evidence or facts, it could be imagined that the “sweet songstress of the night” is just to be identified with a singing bird of nature, for example, with a nightingale. Several interpreters have already pointed this out.42 Indeed, in German, the phrase Sängerin der Nacht is frequently used to designate the common name of die Nachtigall, the nightingale bird, whose song 42

See, for example, Luc Ferry, in: Fichte, Essais philosophiques choisis (1794–1795), trans. and ed. Luc Ferry and Alain Renaut (Paris: Vrin, 1999), p. 112; and Paul Gordon, Art as the Absolute, pp. 72–73.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

237

is both nocturnal and diurnal. Hence, it could be argued that the “nightingale” bird is simply and literally the primary referent of Fichte’s phrase the “sweet songstress of the night”; i.e., it above all refers to a bird of nature, and this interpretation even seems to have philosophical support. For this passage from Fichte’s text On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy appears to directly echo the Kantian reference to the trill of nature’s nightingale “under the gentle light of the moon”,43 as Kant poetically puts it in §42 of the Critique of the Power of Judgment. Now, there is nothing surprising that we have found here a parallel in Kant or an element of Kantian inspiration: after all, Fichte considered himself as following in the tradition of Kant’s critical philosophy. However, I would like to put forward a further larger claim in order to show that the Kantian parallel alone with a bird of nature is not sufficient to fully understand Fichte’s songstress of the night. My contention is that the unnamed fictional people presented in Fichte’s three letters On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy are actually inspired by three real historical personalities. According to the text, we have one person writing to a “friend” who is the recipient of the three letters. I would argue that this letter writer is based on Fichte himself, and the recipient of the letters is based on Schiller, which is precisely how On the Spirit and Letter in Philosophy came into being in reality. As mentioned, the text was commissioned by Schiller and originally intended to be published in his journal Die Horen (The Hours) in 1795. In addition, the “neighbour”44 mentioned in letter two of Fichte’s text, who is having trouble reading “a certain philosophy”45 – is doubtlessly inspired by Goethe, who at the time was also trying to understand Kant’s philosophical writings, and whose poetical works are cited numerous times in Fichte’s text On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy. Thus, the entire literary construct of On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy actually arose from Fichte, Schiller and Goethe trying to grapple with the “spirit and letter” of the Kantian critical philosophy. Returning to the problem of the “sweet songstress of the night” as merely a reference to the nocturnally singing bird, the nightingale, we should ask: What philosophical role does the nightingale play in Kant’s critical philosophy? In § 42 of the third Critique the nightingale is for Kant the possessor of the secret of musical charm. More precisely, the reference to the Kantian nightingale contributes two things. On the one hand, the song or trill of the nightingale is magical, “enchanting” or “bewitching” – Kant calls it bezaubernd;46 it is an example 43 44 45 46

Kant, ku, § 42, aa v: 302; Critique of the Power of Judgment, p. 182. J.G. Fichte, gb, ga i/6: 333; On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, p. 75. Ibid. Kant, ku, § 42, aa v: 302; cf. Critique of the Power of Judgment, p. 182.

238

cahen-maurel

of Reiz, attraction or the pleasant, which we should recall, is the first element in the triad of Fichte’s aesthetics. In Kant himself, the charm of the nightingale’s trill is one of the rare instances where attraction is rehabilitated into the transcendental sphere of aesthetics or pure taste. Insofar as it speaks to us, it arouses an immediate interest for the mind, and is not merely to be rejected as pathological or impure. There is an intellectual judgment in addition to a simple aesthetic judgment. The charm of the nightingale’s song not only produces pleasure, but intellectually it evokes the moral idea of joie de vivre. For Kant, the nightingale is also a bird whose singing can “almost be exactly imitated by the human being.”47 The example of the nightingale occurs in the Critique of the Power of Judgment when Kant engages in a kind of paragone between nature and art, i.e. a comparison between the two in order to establish which of them, the nightingale of nature or the illusion of the nightingale created by art, can legitimately be declared superior. Kant uses this example on two occasions48 to affirm the “preeminence of the beauty of nature over the beauty of art in alone awakening an immediate interest.”49 Artistic beauty (the bird of poetry or art) may be superimposed onto natural beauty (the living bird) from the point of view of simple aesthetic judgment. But then art takes on the appearance of nature and this implies an immediate satisfaction, e.g. a disinterested pleasure. If the reciprocal pair of art/nature can serve as a definition for beauty, in terms of the intellectual interest in the beautiful the symmetry breaks down and art becomes inferior to nature, since art according to Kant is always subject to an intention. Art cannot interest in itself, but only through its end, whose concept is external and prior to the artwork; the satisfaction in its products “would arouse only a mediate interest in the cause on which it is grounded.”50 The song of the nightingale is therefore 47 48 49 50

Ibid., § 22, aa v: 243; Eng. trans., p. 126. In the “General remark on the first section of the Analytic” (§22, B 73) and in §42 on “On the intellectual interest in the beautiful” (B 172–173). Ibid., § 42, aa v: 299; Eng. trans., p. 179. Ibid., aa v: p. 301; Eng. trans., p. 181. By contrast, the example of the nightingale’s trill that is imitated as closely as possible by human skill is, according to Kant, “deceptive” for the poet from the moral point of view since the poet seeks immediacy, spontaneity, and pure beauty, or “purposiveness without purpose.” Charmed by what he first believed to be a natural phenomenon, the poet is no longer well disposed towards the artifice produced by human activity. This discovery of a deception in which art is substituted for nature, the false for the true, destroys for him all interest in the melody or even its very beauty. The nightingale’s song (purposiveness without purpose, and yet telling for the solitary lover of nature who knows how to read in its sensible beauty its correspondence with all the nuances of the moral idea of joy) is therefore opposed to its imitation by the mischievous young man (linked to a purpose).

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

239

the intellectual or moral touchstone of beauty as what has its end in itself, in the pure expression of its form, as opposed to the technicism of the art object. In order to find a path from aesthetics to ethics, Kant therefore gives pre-eminence to nature over art and stresses the contradiction between the two. However, if we reduce Fichte’s “sweet songstress of the night” merely to the nightingale of nature and nothing more, we immediately encounter a contradiction. Encountering a contradiction here is neither surprising nor problematic. Rather, in accordance with Fichte’s own theory of the imagination as presented in the 1794/95 Grundlage, it is a sign that we are dwelling in the right realm of the imagination. For as we saw above, the imagination initially oscillates or hovers between opposing elements and it is precisely this power that eventually permits the transcendental philosopher to overcome any apparent contradiction. If Fichte’s figure of the “sweet songstress of the night” simply referred to a singing nocturnal bird in the animal kingdom, there should be no real problem, and the example could be fully understandable as such. However, we do additionally meet with a contradiction if we only consider the songstress as a bird like the nightingale. The contradiction arises as soon as we more closely examine the very ideas and language used by Fichte in the above passage to describe his figure of the sweet songstress of the night. Fichte’s songstress is explicitly said to possess “spirit” (Geist), “striving” (Streben), “development”, a “power” or “capacity” (Vermögen), and especially: an “original drive” (Urtrieb). – In Fichte’s philosophical system, these traits belong to the anthropological and practical domains of the human kingdom, and essentially differentiates the human being from the animal, including of course, the nightingale. The “drive” (Trieb) is not an animal trait, but a specifically human one that Fichte defines in terms of autonomy and freedom. This is clearly stated in the text of On the Spirit and the Letter of Philosophy itself: Self-activity in human beings, which determines their character and distinguishes them from the rest of nature, places them outside their limits (Grenzen), must itself be based on something that is specific to humans. This specificity is the drive (Trieb). A human being is above all human because of this drive. What kind of human being each person is, depends on the greater or lesser force (Kraft) and effectiveness of the drive, of their inner living and striving.51

51

J.G. Fichte, gb, ga i/6: 340; On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, trans. modified, p. 79.

240

cahen-maurel

The Trieb or drive is the primary inner force that drives the mind, from which the life of spirit can and must develop. Therefore, the drive is literally the turning point, where we return from the outer song of nature’s living bird, which is subject to sensory perception and reflective judgment, to a sound that is the formation or product of an inner movement of the spirit along the musical scale. That is to say, a human sound which is the object of aesthetic intuition (as opposed to mere sensible or external intuition), that goes beyond the limits of natural sounds. Therefore, the Fichtean figure of “the sweet songstress of the night” cannot be reduced to nature or the non-human. To resolve this tension within the figure of the songstress, it is then necessary to progress, by means of the imagination, from the unconscious and outward-orientated animal of nature that the songstress first appears to be or embody, back towards the inner being. Here the songstress is brought back to herself, revealing herself to her own self by experiencing herself in the form of self-feeling, pleasure and displeasure. This does not mean that the reference to the nightingale now has to be discarded or abolished. Rather, it merely signifies that the Kantian representation of the nightingale as the possessor of the secret of musical charm is not sufficient to fully explain this Fichtean monogram. Whereas Kant’s analysis of the beautiful remains at the level of the contradiction and a separation between nature and art, we also find the idea of a contradiction in Fichte. Yet it is one that does not separate natural beauty and artistic beauty, but rather leads to their synthesis at a higher level and creates a twofold ambiguous discourse that lends itself to multiple readings. For a common feature of the two allows us to establish a link or intersection between the nightingale of nature and the human being, between the natural bird of art and human bird as it were. – This link is the fact that the quavering sound of the bird and human vocalizations have the same modulation. Or to put it another way: they share and partake in the same musical activity: singing. Unlike other birds, the nightingale does not only make cries: it modulates the external and perceptible cries it produces in accordance with the different degrees of the diatonic scale. This musical modulation takes the previously mentioned name of a “trill” – which is a continuous and extremely rapid beat of two very close alternating tones. Unlike the sharp and unpleasant screech of the eagle, or from the short, repeated sound of the magpie’s chattering, or the muffled and confused clucking of the hen, the cries of the nightingale’s trill order themselves into extended sounds or melodies that form types of sentences. Nevertheless, although the Fichtean monogram of the sweet songstress of the night therefore combines both animal and human features by virtue of the ideas of the musical scale, modulation and order, which the nightingale’s singing shares in common with human singing, it is only the latter that can ele-

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

241

vate itself to a superior order – the autonomous and unlimited order of spirit and pure reason. This is contrary to Kant’s view. For Fichte, in the domain of art the human being is superior to nature, and nature is not superior to art. 4.2 The Queen of the Night and the Sublime If we follow the Fichtean synthetic method as outlined in the Grundlage, then it is not surprising to see that it is the power of the productive imagination that helps us to overcome the contradictions and antitheses between nature and the human by finding various points point of intersection between the two, such as in musical singing. Moreover, from the point of view of the Fichtean triad of aesthetic content, we could conceive that the figure of the sweet songstress of the night might also include the antithesis of attraction or the pleasant, namely: the sublime. That is to say, both the concrete content of the natural phenomena (i.e. the variety of sounds of the nightingale’s trill) as well as the feeling of the human spirit, take on original features in Fichte’s theory of aesthetics. A moment of amazement and rest, like in a flash of lightning, freezes and fixes the otherwise constant internal oscillating movement of the productive imagination, as Fichte states in the Grundlage. However, the endogenous aesthetic drive must be able to be communicated in an external manner. That is why I am convinced that Fichte’s example of the “sweet songstress of the night” is not just inspired by the nocturnal singing of the nightingale of nature, but also by another existing artistic figure of a female singer. This second songstress inspiration is: the singing character of the Queen of the Night in Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute. Her sublime coloratura were first performed by Josepha Weber at the opera’s creation in 1791. Here again the reference to Mozart is not surprising, since it turns out that at the time of writing On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, the “neighbour” mentioned in the opening of the text – i.e. Goethe – was working in 1795 on a poetic sequel to Mozart’s The Magic Flute. There is indeed a clear reference to the sublime in Fichte’s text, namely in the motif of the elevation to the paroxysm of the sung voice. This voice ascends to the top of the sound or musical scale, in a movement oriented towards the ideal of perfection – as Fichte writes: “to the most perfect chord”.52 Thus, the artistic character of the Queen of the Night not only evokes “the literal image of a cosmic power – the starry night”,53 which Kant famously described as sublime, but she also has an exceptional high-pitched “soprano” voice. The soprano is 52 53

J.G. Fichte, gb, ga i/6: 346; On the Spirit and the Letter in Philosophy, p. 83. Jean Starobinski, “Pouvoir et Lumières dans La Flûte enchantée”, in: Dix-huitième Siècle, nº10 (1978), p. 446.

242

cahen-maurel

the highest and most brilliant voice, whose range (tessitura) is literally “above” the viola, tenor and bass voices. Thus, in terms of the highest, in terms of sublimity, Fichte’s songstress of the night and Mozart’s Queen of the Night seem to perfectly coincide. Again, this does not prevent Fichte’s figure of the songstress from retaining animalistic traits. On the contrary, some traits of both the animal and human singers are directly superimposed on one and the same figure in Fichte. Just as the nightingale sings at night, so the singer of Mozart’s opera sings for the kingdom of the night. Similar to the trills of the nightingale, the most famous aria of the Queen of the Night in Act ii of the opera, directly corresponds to a rapid and extremely lively movement (allegro assai) and is rich in trills. Just as the bird is capable of soaring high into the air, the high-pitched voice of the soprano hovers above in the heights. These images of course evoke Fichte’s choice of describing the power of the productive imagination as a hovering power in the human being. And lastly, just as the bird’s secret of the power of music is rooted in a certain spontaneity and immediacy, so too Mozart’s Queen of the Night is the possessor of a naiveté or natural unconsciousness. Fichte’s songstress of the night is barely aware of what her aesthetic drive or productive imagination produces. She ascends up and down the musical scale without her own full consciousness, knowledge and understanding of this process. Her spirit actively brings this dynamics to a form of consciousness, yet without completely consciously positing (by reason) in front of her mind what she only carries in a sensible (aesthetic) form within herself – it hovers at the back of her consciousness. The singer’s activity has a spiritual content that she configures in a sensible way, because she can only become aware of it in this sensible mode. Thus, the Fichtean figure of the songstress of the night likewise shares in these common traits or analogies between human and animal natures. However, if we wish to merely stay at this standpoint, and explain Fichte’s songstress figure solely with reference to the nightingale and Mozart’s Queen of the Night, we once again encounter difficulties or apparent contradictions. For example, like the magic of Kant’s nightingale, Mozart’s Queen of the Night is certainly a magician. For she is the one who gives Tamino the magic object – the flute that has such a bewitching effect on animals. Tamino needs this magic flute to assist in bringing back the Queen’s own daughter Pamina, who is captive of her opponent Sarastro. But the Queen is an evil and dark magician as opposed to the positively enchanting power of nature’s nightingale, as well as of the true work of art, in Fichte’s view. It is therefore highly incongruous that the Queen of the Night, who embodies the spirit of evil, and whose most famous aria expresses monstrous feelings of fury and hatred, should be

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

243

depicted as “sweet” (lieblich), as Fichte’s songstress is called. Finally, the character of the Queen of the Night does not float on waves, which as we saw, is also a feature of Fichte’s sweet songstress of the night. Thus, even though Mozart’s singing Queen of the Night and Fichte’s songstress share certain key traits in common – especially their abilities to ascend to the sublime via the highest and most chords of the musical scale – we still encounter a number of contradictions if we merely remain at this level of explanation. Hence, we have to therefore exercise our own power of productive imagination again to see if these contradictions can be overcome. 4.3 Venus and the Beautiful (Soul) As we just saw above, the direct inner link (and not merely the indirect analogical links involving reflective judgment) between the enchanting trill of nature’s nightingale and the sublime vocalizations of the dark magician Queen in Mozart’s opera, is precisely the magic of the singing voice. If Fichte is consistent in his theory of aesthetics, then in addition to the pleasant and the sublime, in the example of the “sweet songstress of the night” it would seem imperative to also take into account the third aspect of Fichte’s aesthetic triad: beauty. In my opinion, this third dimension is present in the passage on Fichte’s songstress, and this dimension draws its inspiration from a third already existent figure – who is the central figure in Schiller’s 1793 essay On Grace and Dignity, namely, Venus. The Goddess Venus, who is escorted by the Three Graces, is of course the ancient archetype of beauty and love, and like the Queen in Mozart’s opera, she is also the bearer of a magical attribute – the belt of charm. This reference to Schiller should also not come as a surprise, since, as I have argued, it is precisely Schiller who is the recipient of Fichte’s text, both literally and artistically, and a thinker who has tirelessly studied both the letter and spirit of Kantian philosophy. With this third element and aspect of the aesthetic triad, we now progress further from the sounds of the musical scale, which is at the same time the scale of living beings and of spiritual development, passing from the animal (the nightingale), then the human (the Queen of the Night), up to the divine (Venus). With regard to the nocturnal background of Venus, she is also known as Venus Urania, the Evening Star or light in the night. The name of Fichte’s songstress also perfectly fits with the divine figure of the Goddess. For the letter of Fichte’s text not only uses the adjective lieblich (“sweet”, “charming”) to characterize her nature, which belongs to the vocabulary of love deployed in Schiller’s 1793 essay. But the figure of Venus also helps illuminate Fichte’s reference to the songstress and the sea: “Her life floats (schwebt) on the surging waves of aesthetic feeling, as does the artistic life of every true genius.” One

244

cahen-maurel

of the most well-known elements of the myth regarding the birth of Venus is of course how she emerges from the foam of the waves. The use of “schweben” here is another explicit intertextuality to the Grundlage’s technical term for the specific movement of the creative imagination – its hovering and floating – which may correspond to either an aerial elevated movement or to a floating movement on water. Furthermore, Fichte’s text incorporates in his text the exact same expression of the notion of a “fitting image” (passendes Bild), which Schiller uses in On Grace and Dignity concerning the ornament of Venus’s garment – the magic belt. This belt is the appropriate symbol for the concept of grace: A belt which is nothing more than a fortuitous outward ornament certainly seems no very fitting image (passendes Bild) to denote the personal character of grace; but a personal characteristic, which is at once thought as separable from the subject, could not be illustrated otherwise than by means of a fortuitous ornament, with which the person may part without detriment to himself.54 This repetition in Fichte’s German text of both the expression passendes Bild and the adjective lieblich, indicates – and this is the essential point – that we are in the field of the “personal character” of grace, and not just in that of natural beauty alone. With his concept of grace, Schiller enlarged the Kantian discourse of the ideal of beauty in the third Critique by opening it up from the human form to its contingent movements emanating from the freedom of spirit, as opposed to the mere necessity of nature. Schiller writes: As far as the ideal of beauty is concerned, all necessary movements must be beautiful, because, as necessary, they belong to its nature; the beauty of these movements is therefore already given with the concept of Venus, whereas the beauty of the fortuitous movements is an enlargement (Erweiterung) of this concept. There is a grace of the voice, but no grace of breathing.55 Fichte’s “sweet songstress of the night” therefore serves as a symbol of the aesthetic, of the inner hovering mental state of genius. She links onto the orna54

55

Friedrich Schiller, Über Anmut und Würde (1793), in: Sämtliche Werke (hereafter: sw) (Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 2004), vol. v: 435; On Grace and Dignity, trans. George Gregory (Washington, DC: The Schiller Institute, 1988), p. 339. Ibid., p. 436; Eng. trans. (modified), p. 340.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

245

ment of the voice that Schiller’s philosophical analysis had already regarded as an example of grace. For Fichte, with regard to the internal purely subjective side of activity, the dynamic productive imagination produces an ideal synthesis of the empirical and the rational. It bridges the gap between the sensible (empirical feelings or attraction) and the supersensible (the sublime as the feeling of spirit). Whereas in Schiller’s thought, grace is a mobile beauty, a beauty not only referred to a movement subject to variation, but the mediating or unifying element between nature and spirit, and the body and soul. Grace effects the transition from reason to sensibility (and vice versa), for it depends on the affective states of the spirit. Schiller terms grace as the “beauty of play”56 in order to distinguish it from the fixed “architectonic beauty”57 of natural body conformation. The magical power of grace opens us up to an order that is different to the order of nature. Through it, we move from necessity to freedom, from fixed identity and finitude to change and infinity. Consequently, the concept of grace also applies to anyone who is naturally “less beautiful” or even “not beautiful at all”. This is because “even someone who is not beautiful is still able to move beautifully”.58 Consequently, the artist of beauty does not have to be beautiful herself. This explains why Mozart’s Queen of the Night may be an extremely horrible character, yet she is not a horrible singer, but a beautiful one. Her singing, including the aria of Act ii, is seductive on account of the crescendo and decrescendo of the bel canto. The magical grace of her soprano voice is furthermore sublime, for it is the highest and most brilliant voice range and also “coloratura”; that is to say, a light voice, which achieves maximum agility and flexibility in the form of vocalizations – trills and arpeggios. This ability saves the Queen of the Night and makes her character even draw close to the divine. This mediation of grace or mobile beauty is the expression of the productive imagination in and through a work of art. For Fichte, this beauty corresponds to the divine insofar as it creates a possible unity or synthesis that overcomes the tension between the two antithetical poles of the animal and the human.59 However, despite this reference to the figure of Venus in Schiller’s On Grace and Dignity, there seems to remain one final contradiction concerning Fichte’s

56 57 58 59

Ibid., p. 446; Eng. trans., p. 349. Ibid., p. 438; Eng. trans., p. 342. Ibid., p. 435; Eng. trans., pp. 339–340. Whereas for Schiller grace corresponds rather to the human or the personal, as opposed to beauty as the quality of the divine nature or creation.

246

cahen-maurel

“sweet songstress of the night”, and it is a more difficult one to resolve: what about the singing aspect? Unlike the nightingale bird and Mozart’s Queen of the Night, the goddess Venus apparently does not sing at all. And yet, I maintain that she is the model or inspiration behind the third facet of the Fichtean monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”. How, then, is Venus a songstress? I do not believe that the question of singing has been now overcome or cancelled. The solution to this apparent contradiction is again to use our own productive imagination, and see that the ancient figure of the externally beautiful corporal Venus now has to be complemented by the modern figure of the internally ‘beautiful soul’, which Schiller theorizes in the text On Grace and Dignity. According to this Schillerian perspective, both beauty – and its extension grace – place us at the intersection of the interior and the exterior: grace objectively embodies the movement of our spirit, its self-deployment, so that the exteriority of the body is totally inhabited by the interiority towards which it points. The ‘beautiful soul’ therefore ultimately makes us return once again to the viewpoint of our inner being. This inner soul aspect is lacking in the mythological figure of the beautiful Venus. With the beautiful soul, we have now moved back to our original starting point, but at a higher and more conscious level: to a form of inner and silent song. In the above Fichtean textual passage on the songstress, her song is initially silent, but whose sound or singing we are able to step-by-step create in an inner manner by employing the power of our imagination. Likewise, grace in the Schillerian sense, is the expression of a beautiful soul that is a “speaking”60 silence, a silent word carried by the modulations of the voice, the looks, sighs, or smiles. Indeed, Schiller writes the following words about the graceful movements of the beautiful soul: “The voice shall become music, and move the heart with the pure flow of its modulations.”61 In other words, Venus, who has become an inwardly beautiful soul, does not sing outwardly, all she has to do is speak, to create an inner song.

5

Conclusion: Fichtean Theory in Practice

To summarize: Fichte’s monogram of the songstress is an original synthesis of three other figures. It constitutes a concrete example in practice of Fichte’s theory of the creative imagination on the one hand, and his triadic conception

60 61

Ibid. Ibid., p. 435; Eng. trans., p. 369.

the monogram of the “sweet songstress of the night”

247

of aesthetics on the other, which comprises the topics of the pleasant, sublime and the beautiful. The singing of the “sweet songstress of the night” cannot merely be reduced to the mere natural singing of the nightingale of nature, such as we find in Kant. In order to fully understand this creature of the Fichtean imagination, we must furthermore include the figure of the Queen of the Night in Mozart’s Magic Flute, and the ancient archetype of beauty and love, the goddess Venus, to which a ‘beautiful soul’ is added in Schiller. It is only through this intertextual synthesis that we go beyond the merely reproductive and unoriginal level of a given-dependent form of the imagination, to reach a new and original creation, a genuine product of Fichte’s own productive imagination: the “sweet songstress of the night”. It is the faculty of the hovering imagination of the I that allows us to overcome all the above apparent contradictions and arrive at a coherent synthesis and understanding of this monogram. And it is precisely for this reason that the productive imagination forms the first principle of Fichte’s aesthetics.

12 Fichte’s First Principle of Right Michael Nance

Abstract This paper addresses the following questions: what is Fichte’s first principle of right, how does he argue for it, and how does it function as the first principle of his substantive political theory? To answer these questions, the paper offers an overview of the main steps of Fichte’s derivation of the principle of right, explains its relationship to Fichte’s account of individual personhood, and then specifies some of the senses in which the resulting principle serves as the foundation of the rest of Fichte’s political and economic theory. I focus on the developmental logic of Fichte’s account of the “summons” and the “relation of right.” This developmental logic, I argue, is both recapitulated and completed within Fichte’s political theory and political economy.

Keywords principle of right – individuality – summons – recognition – social contract

1

Introduction

Fichte devotes the first Hauptstück of his 1796 Grundlage des Naturrechts to the derivation of what he refers to as the “principle” or “law” of right from the basic structures of self-positing characterized by his Wissenschaftslehre.1 The principle of right states: “each is to limit his freedom through the concept of the possibility of the other’s freedom, under the condition that the latter likewise limit his freedom through the freedom of the former” (sw iii: 52).2 According to

1 The 1796 Naturrecht belongs systematically with the first version of the Wissenschaftslehre laid out in the 1794/95 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre. For discussion, see Ludwig Siep, “Naturrecht und Wissenschaftslehre,” in ders., Praktische Philosophie im Deutschen Idealismus, Suhrkamp 1992, pp. 19–40, at 22–24. 2 I.H. Fichte (Ed.), Fichtes Werke (ed., Vol. 11). Berlin 1971. Due to limitations on library access caused by the pandemic, I have not been able to access the newer Gesamtausgabe edition

© Michael Nance, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_013

fichte’s first principle of right

249

Fichte’s argument, this principle expresses a concept that any subject must possess as a condition of the possibility of reflective awareness of itself as a “free efficacy.”3 In reflecting on itself as freely efficacious, Fichte argues that each subject necessarily projects itself as a practical agent into a world inhabited by at least one other such agent who “summons” it to exercise its free efficacy. Thus each subject necessarily finds itself with the problem of negotiating the terms of its co-existence with another agent or agents outside itself.4 According to Fichte, it is in relations of this kind that the finite I defines itself as an individual (sw iii: 42; sw iv: 219–222). “Individuality,” for Fichte, therefore requires 1) being one among a multiplicity of similar agents who inhabit a shared social space and who can make claims of right, and 2) being aware that one is so situated. According to Fichte, the principle of right is the normative principle that governs the relations to others that allow us to define ourselves as individuals. This principle functions as the first principle of the doctrine of right that Fichte develops in the rest of the text of gnr and in ghs. This paper offers an overview of the main steps of Fichte’s derivation of the principle of right, explains its relationship to Fichte’s account of individual personhood, and then specifies some of the senses in which the resulting principle serves as the foundation of Fichte’s political and economic theory. I focus on the problem of the overall unity of gnr’s argument. The first part of gnr begins with what appears to be a transcendental argument for the necessity of upbringing for children to become aware of their rational agency. Even supposing that argument to be sound, what does it have to do with political philosophy and political economy? To many readers, the relation between these two parts of Fichte’s project in his writings on natural right has been less than obvious.5 of Fichte’s works. I thank the editors of Fichte-Studien for allowing me to cite from the older edition. Fichte quotes are taken from the following translations: Fichte, J.G. Foundations of Natural Right, F. Neuhouser, ed., Michael Baur, transl. Cambridge 2000. Fichte, J.G. The Closed Commercial State. A.C. Adler, transl. Albany 2012; Fichte, J.G. (2005) The System of Ethics. D. Breazeale and G. Zöller, eds. Cambridge 2005. 3 Note that possessing the concept is not the same as committing to abide by it, which Fichte repeatedly claims is a matter of “arbitrary choice.” See, e.g., sw, iii, 9. 4 Michelle Kosch emphasizes this aspect of Fichte’s account in her recent Fichte’s Ethics. Oxford 2018. As she puts it, Fichte’s account both determines the problem of right as a problem of coordinating individuals’ spheres of free activity, and outlines the “a priori rational constraints” on a negotiated solution to this problem (Fichte’s Ethics, p. 97). Solving this problem, for Fichte, turns out to be largely a matter of negotiating a scheme of property rights and economic cooperation. For discussion, see my “Property and Economic Planning in Fichte’s Contractualism,” European Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 27, Issue 3, 2019, pp. 643–660. 5 For comments along these lines, see, for example, Neuhouser’s account in his editor’s “Introduction” to the Cambridge edition of Foundations of Natural Right. See also the discussion of

250

nance

I aim to address this question by focusing closely on the developmental logic of Fichte’s account of the “summons” and the “relation of right.” This developmental logic, I will argue, is both recapitulated and completed within Fichte’s contractualist political theory and political economy. The paper is structured as follows. Sections 2–4 discuss Fichte’s arguments in gnr §§1–4 regarding free efficacy, the summons, the relation of right, and the conditions of individuality. Section 5 disambiguates three closely related notions that figure in Fichte’s derivation: the ideas of the concept of right, the relation of right, and the principle of right. Section 6 concludes by examining the consequences of Fichte’s principle of right for the overall structure of his political theory, in particular his account of the civil contract and his theory of international and cosmopolitan right. It is here that I substantiate the claim that Fichte’s logic of the summons and relation of right is recapitulated and completed in Fichte’s contractualist political theory.

2

Free Efficacy and Reflection

Fichte’s deduction of his principle of right begins with the claim that, when a subject makes itself into an object of conscious reflection, it must find itself as a “free efficacy,” in two senses.6 First, the I must posit itself as setting its own ends (sw iii: 19); and second, the I must posit itself as a causality directed toward a world of objects outside of itself, which it must therefore also posit (sw iii: 19). In both cases, the reflecting I must conceive itself as a kind of activity. As Fichte puts it, the “I is what it does …” (sw iii: 22). Two points are worth noting here. First, as Michelle Kosch notes, one can be a free efficacy in the relevant sense prior to reflecting on one’s free efficacy.7 In reflecting, the I becomes conscious of the practical activity in which it is already engaged. That means that the sense in which a free efficacy determines its own ends does not require reflective awareness, although it does require that the ends a free efficacy pursues are gnr’s Hegelian critics in my “Freedom, Coercion, and the Relation of Right,” in: G. Gottlieb, ed. Fichte’s Foundations of Natural Right: A Critical Guide. Cambridge 2016, pp. 196–217. 6 For more in-depth discussion of this argument, see Jacob McNulty, “Transcendental Philosophy and Intersubjectivity: Mutual Recognition as a Condition for the Possibility of SelfConsciousness in Sections 1–3 of Fichte’s Foundations of Natural Right,” European Journal of Philosophy 24:4, pp. 788–810; and Frederick Neuhouser, “The Efficacy of the Rational Being (First Proposition: § 1),” in Merle, Jean-Christoph, ed. 2001. Grundlage des Naturrechts. Akademie Verlag, 39–49. 7 See pp. 5–6 of Kosch, “Fichte on Summons and Self-Consciousness,” Mind, 2020, doi:10.1093/ mind/fzaa001.

fichte’s first principle of right

251

determined through its own activity. Second, it follows that the I must find itself in reflection as a free efficacy because it already is one. As Fichte puts it, if it did not find itself as a free efficacy, the I would not find itself (sw iii: 33). Instead it would find a categorically different kind of object, a merely inert bit of matter. By the end of gnr §2, Fichte claims to have established that the finite I must posit itself in reflection as possessing practical efficacy in relation to a sensible world of independent objects in which it pursues its own self-determined ends. In this specific sense, the subject must posit itself as a free efficacy. This is the main result of gnr §§1–2. The next step of Fichte’s argument begins by stating a circularity worry regarding the possibility of original reflection on oneself as a free efficacy. The circularity worry is that “All comprehension is conditioned by a positing of the rational being’s own efficacy; and all efficacy is conditioned by some prior act of comprehension by the rational being” (sw iii: 30). According to Fichte’s argument, the I can reflect on an independent world of objects only if it first posits itself as a practical efficacy (for the I posits a system of independent objects only in response to original limitations on its practical activity), but it can reflect on itself as a practical efficacy only if it first posits an object upon which it exercises its efficacy. No efficacy can be thought without an object of efficacy, but no object of efficacy can be thought without first positing efficacy itself.8 Fichte’s answer to this regress problem is the doctrine of the summons: a summons from another rational agent, and only such a summons, can stop the regress he identifies. The summons suffices to stop the regress because it offers a successful synthetic unity of the I’s efficacious activity with the object of its efficacy. In the summons, these two aspects are posited as identical: the object of the I’s efficacy is nothing other than the I’s efficacy itself. Here is how Fichte puts the point: “the subject’s efficacy is itself the object that is perceived and comprehended, and … the object is nothing other than the subject’s efficacy (and thus … the two are the same)” (sw iii: 32).

3

Spheres of Free Efficacy and the Summons

But what exactly is a summons, how is it supposed to accomplish the synthesis Fichte has described, and why should it be the case that only a summons can address the regress problem Fichte has identified? This section outlines Fichte’s answers to the first two questions, and offers some remarks on the

8 For a defense and elaboration of the circularity problem here, see McNulty, ibid.

252

nance

third. Fichte writes that we must “think of the subject’s being-determined as its being-determined to be self-determining, i.e. as a summons [Aufforderung] to the subject, calling upon it to resolve to exercise its efficacy” (sw iii: 32–33). The summons is a specific kind of rational interaction that determines its object – the addressee of the summons – in a way that is consistent with the addressee’s rational self-determination. The summoner calls upon the addressee: “determine yourself!” The unique character of such a summons from another rational agent lies in the fact that it determines the addressee from outside without in any way infringing on the addressee’s capacity freely to determine itself. Only the determination of the I via a summons can allow the I to become an object for itself without losing its character as a self-determining free efficacy. In response to the summons, the I posits itself as both object of its free activity and as free activity itself, stopping the regress that Fichte identified at the outset of §3.9 The beginning of §4 of Fichte’s text continues the project of analyzing the summons and making the case for its necessity as a condition of reflective awareness of free efficacy. Fichte writes that “The subject must distinguish itself through opposition from the rational being that, as a consequence of the preceding proof, it has assumed to exist outside itself ” (sw iii: 41). In this sentence, Fichte is not describing a further, distinct act on the part of the summoned subject, but rather elaborating on what is involved in the subject’s grasping the summons as such. Fichte claims that in the synthetic moment of the summons, the addressee defines its agency through opposition to the summoner’s activity. According to Fichte’s reasoning, to make its free efficacy into an object of reflection, the subject must be able to distinguish its own, self-originated practical activity from the practical activity of the subject outside of it. Thus the next question we need to consider is: what role does the summons play in allowing the subject to distinguish its own practical activity from that of others and to appropriate its activity as its own? This is an important question for Fichte’s project. Answering it provides insight into the link Fichte perceives between reflecting on one’s free efficacy and the necessity of the summons. On Fichte’s view, the subject’s appropriation of its self-originated practical activity as its own is possible only if the subject is already in possession of a determinate sphere of possible action in which 9 Note that I distinguish the summons itself from the I’s response to the summons – its positing of its free efficacy. Fichte at times runs the two moments together and treats the summons and the I’s activity in response as identical. See Fichte’s remarks at sw iii: 34–35. This is a difficult issue, since there is a sense in which the response to the summons just is the completion of the summons.

fichte’s first principle of right

253

it knows that only it chooses how to realize its efficacy (sw iii: 42). Fichte’s thought is that, if a subject is to judge a given happening in the world as the product of its efficacy, it must be in a position to judge that such a happening could not be the product of any efficacy outside of its own. And this is in turn possible only if the subject is somehow “allotted” an exclusive “sphere of its possible activity” (sw iii: 41). Once the subject has been allotted such an exclusive sphere, it can then securely appropriate events that occur within this sphere as products of its own efficacy. But on Fichte’s view, this initial determination of an exclusive sphere of possible activity, which allows the subject to appropriate its activity as its own, is not something the subject can originally accomplish by itself. Recall that Fichte is inquiring into the conditions of the possibility of the subject’s coming to reflective awareness of its free efficacy. Thus by hypothesis the subject has not yet reflected on itself as a free efficacy. Given Fichte’s assumptions about the nature of concepts and subjectivity – namely that subjectivity is nothing but self-reverting activity (sw iii: 17), and that a priori concepts are nothing but forms of such activity (sw iii: 4) – it follows that a pre-reflective subject must lack the conceptual apparatus to form judgments regarding the possible exercise of its own efficacy. The reason for this is that, in Fichte’s activity-first metaphysics of the self, a priori concepts are not “empty compartments” that exist prior to experience in some mental substance (sw iii: 5). A subject cannot have the concept of its possible activity – a grasp of itself as a mere capacity waiting to be actualized – prior to actually acting (sw iii: 31; compare sw iv: 83). And since acting, for Fichte, is determinate acting, it follows that one must first engage in some determinate efficacious activity before one can make judgments about possible activities in which one could engage (sw iii: 31). Only then can one acquire the concept of possible activity. But consider: if Fichte is committed to the reasoning just offered, according to which the concept of actual activity is prior to the concept of possible activity; and yet a subject cannot appropriate its actual efficacious activity as its own without first understanding itself as possessing a sphere of possible activity; then Fichte’s account of the emergence of reflective subjectivity faces a genuine problem. Here is where the summoner comes to the rescue. Because the subject cannot define its own sphere of possible activity prior to actually exercising its efficacy, the summoner must define a sphere of possible choice for the subject. This is why Fichte initially defines the addressee’s sphere of possible activity in terms of the “outer limit of the product of the being outside it” (sw iii: 42). The summoner defines for the addressee a sphere of possible activity by voluntarily and expressly limiting its own practical activity within a specific sphere of possible action in order to make room for the addressee

254

nance

to exercise its efficacy within a separate, determinate sphere. The summons defines where the summoner’s free efficacy ceases and the addressee’s sphere for the possible exercise of its free efficacy begins. Crucially, on Fichte’s account, the summoner’s self-limitation must be outwardly expressed; it is not enough that the summoner simply refrain from interfering with the addressee of the summons within a certain sphere. Instead, the summoner must make the addressee aware that it has recognized the addressee as a potentially rational being, and that it has self-consciously limited its own agency to make it possible for the addressee reflectively to exercise its free efficacy within a specific sphere. In summary, Fichte reasons as follows: to know itself as a free efficacy, the finite I must be able to appropriate its own efficacious activity as its own; but it can do this only on the condition that it first knows itself to possess a definite, exclusive sphere for its practical activity; but knowledge of such a sphere is possible only in virtue of a relation to another subject that summons the I and, by means of its voluntary, outwardly expressed self-limitation, defines a determinate sphere of possible practical activity for the I that it summons. I pause here to note two further points that help clarify Fichte’s claim. First, “upbringing,” the term Fichte sometimes uses to describe the summons, involves the allotment by care-givers of determinate spheres of free efficacy to children. Care-givers frequently do this explicitly: examples include inviting a child to choose, or demanding that a child choose, one shirt to wear from among three, or one from among several possible breakfast foods. In so doing, they “call upon [the child] to resolve to exercise its efficacy” (sw iii: 33). Once we have it in view, we see that the phenomenon of explicitly defining for children a sphere of possible free choice and then inviting or requiring them to choose within this sphere is ubiquitous, and it is indeed aptly described as a kind of “beingdetermined to be self-determining” (sw iii: 33). Such interactions fulfill the criteria described above for Fichtean summoning. The care-giver 1) freely limits their own efficacy for the sake of providing the addressee with a sphere of free activity; 2) outwardly expresses this act of self-limitation to the child; and 3) in so doing, explicitly defines for the child a determinate sphere of free choice within which it is to exercise its efficacy. As a consequence, the child is able to reflect on its exercise of efficacy within its allotted sphere and acquire an understanding of its own freedom. Second, the “sphere of efficacy” at issue in the child’s coming to reflective awareness of its efficacy turns out to be in the first instance the human body itself (gnr §§5–6; sw iii: 56–91). Each person must be summoned to reflective self-consciousness that they possess (limited) efficacy over their own body. Again, this point is familiar from the context of up-bringing: children do not initially understand the efficacy they possess over

fichte’s first principle of right

255

their own bodies, or the efficacy their bodies possess in relation to the rest of the world. They must be summoned to such awareness. I close this section by returning to Fichte’s claim that only a summons can do the necessary work of defining for a subject an exclusive sphere for the exercise of its efficacy. According to Fichte, merely encountering objects in nature that are distinct from the I is not sufficient for the I to posit itself as an I; the I must rather encounter and interact with at least one other object of a specific kind, namely another object that is also a subject (another I), and it must interact with this other I as an I via the summoning process. Whether Fichte in fact has a sound argument for this claim is difficult to assess. It is easy to think of examples where non-human nature might be thought of as “summoning” us to exercise our efficacy. For example, if I am outdoors and the temperature plunges far below zero, it could be argued that I am “summoned” by the natural environment to choose between a determinate set of options: I can either find a way to get warm, or die of exposure. Or if I am in a shipwreck and am washed up alone on a desert island, the perimeter of the island seems to define for me the sphere within which I can exercise my free efficacy. Why are such scenarios insufficient to prompt the required form of reflection on one’s efficacy?10 One possible answer is that nature undetermines the set of possible actions available to me: it does not, in fact, define a determinate sphere for the possible exercise of my free choice at all, except in the broadest sense of ruling out actions that violate the laws of nature. A summons from another rational being, by contrast, explicitly (and often arbitrarily) delimits a set of possible choices in response to a specific practical problem, and then requires that I choose from among that set, alerting me to the fact that within the domain of choice defined by the summons, it is I who chooses. My choice of one action from among the determinate set of possible actions presented to me in the summons then actualizes my individual efficacy in a way that allows me to know my deed as the product of my efficacy.

10

In “Fichte on Summons and Self-Consciousness,” pp. 24–28, Kosch draws on recent psychological literature to make the case that Fichte’s claim here is empirically correct. Unlike Kosch, I take him to be making more than just an empirical claim about causal necessity in his arguments about the summons and the relation of right, but it may well be that he lacks a sound a priori argument to rule out the kind of possibility I am considering here.

256 4

nance

The Relation of Right and the Individual

Thus far, Fichte has argued as follows: if a subject is to reflect on itself, it must posit itself as a free efficacy. But for a subject to posit itself as a free efficacy, it must first be summoned by another rational being to make its efficacy into an object of reflection. This process of summoning is what we ordinarily call up-bringing, in which children become reflectively aware of themselves as free agents. In §4 of gnr, Fichte aims to explore the implications of the summons for the subsequent interactions between the summoner and the addressee, and the conditions under which the summoner’s initial, problematic recognition of the addressee can develop into an enduring normative relation. As part of this account, Fichte introduces a new notion: the idea of the relation of right as a relation of reciprocal recognition that develops out of the summoning relation (sw iii: 41, 44).11 Fichte’s account of the developmental logic of the summoning relation is complex, but for our purposes it can be broken down as follows. First, the summoner problematically recognizes the addressee, thereby determining for the addressee a sphere of possible efficacy (sw iii: 43). Second, the addressee reacts to the summons. This reaction must be analyzed from two different points of view. From the point of view of the addressee, once the summons has been comprehended as such, anything it does qualifies as an acknowledgement of the summons, even ignoring it and not making a choice within one’s allotted sphere (sw iii: 34). For choosing not to respond is still a way for the addressee to exercise its free efficacy and thus posit itself as an agent.12 However, from the standpoint of the summoner, only certain kinds

11

12

For a developmental reading, see Gottlieb, G., “Fichte’s Developmental View of SelfConsciousness,” in Gottlieb, ed. Fichte’s Foundations of Natural Right: A Critical Guide, pp. 92–116. On this point, see Paul Franks’s discussion at All or Nothing, Cambridge, MA 2005, p. 325; and McNulty, “Transcendental Philosophy and Intersubjectivity,” p. 799. Franks points to Fichte’s discussion at WLnm § 16, 4 to argue that, for Fichte, the addressee cannot help reciprocally recognizing the summoner, no matter how the addressee responds to the summons, a point that McNulty also endorses. According to the lecture transcript, Fichte states: “Sinnlich betrachtet ist es so, entweder ich handele nach dem Willen oder nicht, habe ich die Aufforderung verstanden so entschliesse ich mich doch durch Selbstbestimmung nicht zu handeln, der Aufforderung zu widerstreben, und handele durch nicht handeln. Freilich muss die Aufforderung verstanden sein[,] dann muss man aber handeln[,] auch wenn man ihr nicht gehorchet, in jedem Falle äussere ich meine Freiheit.” Thus the addressee cannot help but confirm the summoner’s hypothesis as to the addressee’s potential for freedom and reason. Yet although Fichte does appear to maintain this view in Wlnm, it is not supported by the text of gnr, and it strikes me as an implausible view. In gnr, Fichte holds that “I can expect a particular rational being to recognize me as a rational

fichte’s first principle of right

257

of responses to the summons confirm the summoner’s hypothesis that the addressee of the summons has the potential for rational agency, namely those responses that demonstrate to the summoner that the summons has been comprehended as such. From the standpoint of the summoner, the addressee’s possible responses fall into three categories: first, responses that reciprocally and expressly treat the summoner as a rational agent by allotting to the summoner a sphere of free activity (strong reciprocation; see sw, iii: 44–45); second, those responses that either accept or reject the summons, but do so in such a way that the acceptance or rejection communicates that the summoned individual intends to be responding to the summons (both acceptance and rejection count as weak reciprocation, so long as the uptake of the summons is communicated to the summoner; see sw iii: 34); and third, responses that do not communicate awareness of having been summoned at all (sw iii: 45). The last kind of response does not confirm the summoner’s hypothesis regarding the potential rationality of the addressee of the summons (although it does not necessarily disconfirm that hypothesis either). Returning to the discussion of up-bringing, suppose a caregiver summons a child to either brush their teeth or put on their pajamas. The child understands the summons, but ignores it and proceeds as if they did not understand. It is not clear from the standpoint of the summoner whether the summons has been grasped as such at all. That would be an example of the third kind of case. Fichte clearly allows for possibilities like this when he glosses what it is to treat the summoner as a rational being: “not that I merely refrain from acting contrary to the concept of C as a rational being, but rather that I actually act in conformity with it, that I actually enter into reciprocal interaction with C. Otherwise, we remain separate and are absolutely nothing for each other” (sw iii: 45). Plausibly, the case just described involves the child’s deliberate refusal to “enter into reciprocal interaction with C” in even the weaker of the two senses I have identified. By hypothesis, the summons itself was received and comprehended, and yet the addressee refuses to communicate that understanding to the summoner. The possibility of such cases matters because they illustrate an asymmetry at play in the addressee’s response to the summons: any response to the summons qua summons allows the addressee to become reflectively aware of herself as an agent, but only a subset of the possible responses allow the being, only if I myself treat him as one” (sw iii: 44; see also sw iii: 52), and it is clear in the subsequent discussion that not everything I can do in response to the summons counts as treating the summoner as a rational being. I see nothing in Fichte’s picture that precludes a scenario in which the addressee understands the summons, regards herself as free, but chooses not to respond in a way that displays her freedom to the summoner.

258

nance

summoner to confirm her hypothesis that the addressee is an agent. If this is right, the establishment of a reciprocal relation of right is conditional on the addressee responding to the summoner in a way that communicates to the summoner the uptake of the summons. On this view, the establishment of a relation of right as a consequence of a summons depends on the addressee’s response to the summons. Should the addressee reciprocate the summons, the two subjects enter into a relation of right with each other. The summoner’s initially problematic recognition then becomes categorical, assuming the summoner is consistent (sw iii: 47).13 But the necessity of the addressee’s weak reciprocation in response to the summons is not the same as the necessity of the summons itself. The summons is a transcendental condition of the possibility of a subject’s making its free efficacy into an object of reflection. Reciprocation of the summons (even weak reciprocation), by contrast, is not such a condition. Instead, whether and how to reciprocate is according to Fichte a matter for the addressee’s free choice. That is not to say that such reciprocation need be thought as completely arbitrary or rationally optional. Kosch and Ludwig Siep, for example, each argue in different ways that there is rational pressure internal to the addressee’s understanding of the summons that pushes toward reciprocation of one form or another.14 But this is a different form of

13

14

For discussion of the theoretical norm of consistency at play here, and in what sense it requires a consistency in action that is distinct from that required by the moral law, see A. Wood, Fichte’s Ethical Thought, Oxford: 2016, pp. 260–261; Schottky, Schottky, Richard (1995). Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der staatsphilosophischen Vertragstheorie im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert (Hobbes – Locke – Rousseau – Fichte) mit einem Beitrag zum Problem der Gewaltenteilung bei Rousseau und Fichte (Fichte-Studien-Supplementa 6). Amsterdam: 1995, 291–299; Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, 119; and Gottlieb, “A Family Quarrel,” in D. Dahlstrom, ed. Kant and his German Contemporaries, Vol. ii. Cambridge 2018, 170–192. See also Ware, (2010) “Fichte’s Voluntarism,” European Journal of Philosophy 18:2, pp. 262–282. As Schottky and Gottlieb note, a likely influence on Fichte with regard to the norm of consistency here is J.B. Erhard’s account of right. Compare Erhard’s invocation of a norm of theoretical consistency as the basis of the relation of right in his essay “Apologie des Teufels,” in J.B. Erhard, Über das Recht des Volks zu einer Revolution und andere Schriften, H. Haasis, ed. München: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1970. Kosch discusses the issue at Fichte’s Ethics, p. 119. I take her to hold that agents typically have prudential reason to respond to the summons in a way that communicates their rationality to the summoner. Siep addresses the issue in detail in his ‘Methodische und systematische Probleme in Fichtes “Grundlage des Naturrechts,”’ in Klaus Hammacher (ed.): Der transzendentale Gedanke: die gegenwärtige Darstellung der Philosophie Fichtes, pp. 290–308. Hamburg: 1981. There he argues that in being summoned, the addressee learns that reason and voluntary self-limitation are from the addressee’s perspective necessarily connected. Self-limitation is “für das aufgefordete Bewusstsein notwendig mit seinem Begriff von Vernunft verknüpft” (296). This is because the addressee knows

fichte’s first principle of right

259

necessitation from the necessity of the summons.15 The establishment of a full-blown relation of right requires that the addressee enter into reciprocal interaction with the summoner in the stronger sense, by voluntarily limiting its own agency and communicating this act of self-conscious self-limitation to the summoner, thereby reciprocally allotting to the summoner an equivalent sphere for the exercise of its free efficacy, both now and in future interactions. On the basis of the argument just discussed, Fichte draws the conclusion that the rational being must posit itself in reflection as an individual, as one such being among others: “I posit myself as an individual in opposition to another particular individual, insofar as I ascribe to myself a sphere for my freedom from which I exclude the other, and ascribe a sphere to the other from which I exclude myself” (sw iii: 52). As we have seen, Fichte holds that a subject’s original appropriation to itself of an act of free efficacy requires that the subject is allotted its own determinate sphere of efficacy, which in turn requires a summons from another subject. Thus for the subject to take itself to be a determinate free efficacy requires that it posit its efficacy in relation to another subject’s efficacy. The concept of one’s own free efficacy as an original object of reflection is thus necessarily related to the thought of the summoner’s efficacy. That is why, according to Fichte, the concept of individuality is “a reciprocal concept, i.e. a concept that can be thought only in relation to another thought … This concept can exist in a rational being only if it is posited as completed by another rational being. Thus this concept is never mine; it is rather … mine and his, his and mine; it is a shared concept within which two consciousnesses are unified into one” (sw iii: 47).

15

the summoner as a rational being only because the summoner has freely limited its own agency for the sake of a second (potential) rational being, namely itself. This selflimitation, for it, is the distinguishing mark of a rational being. Thus if it is to posit itself as a rational being in relation to the summoner, it, too, must freely limit its own agency in relation to the summoner, for that is the concept of rational agency it has now acquired. The addressee must accordingly treat the summoner reciprocally as a free being. Some passages in the Introduction to gnr suggest the different view that the decision to enter into and sustain relations of right with others is not rationally required, but rather completely arbitrary. For example, Fichte writes: “It is necessary that every free being assume the existence of others of its kind outside itself; but it is not necessary that they all continue to exist alongside one another as free beings; thus the thought of such a community and its realization is something arbitrary or optional” (sw iii: 9).

260 5

nance

Right: Relation, Concept, Principle

At this point in gnr, Fichte’s initial derivation of the concept of right from the conditions on the finite I’s self-positing is complete. At various points in the course of his argument, Fichte has discussed three at least nominally distinct items: the concept of right, the relation of right, and the principle of right. Are these three ways of talking about the same thing? If not, what are the relations among them? Consider this passage from gnr, in which the concept, relation, and principle of right are distinguished: iii. The conclusion has already emerged. – I must in all cases recognize the free being outside me as a free being, i.e. I must limit my freedom through the concept of the possibility of his freedom. The relation between free beings that we have deduced (i.e. that each is to limit his freedom through the concept of the possibility of the other’s freedom, under the condition that the latter likewise limit his freedom through the freedom of the former) is called the relation of right; and the formula that has now been established is the principle of right [Rechtssatz]. This relation is deduced from the concept of the individual. Thus what was to be proved has now been proved. Furthermore, the concept of the individual was previously proved to be a condition of self-consciousness; thus the concept of right is itself a condition of self-consciousness. Therefore, the concept of right has been properly deduced a priori, i.e. from the pure form of reason, from the I. sw iii: 52–53

Fichte starts by defining the relation of right. Free beings who stand in that relation are to limit their freedom to make possible the freedom of the other, provided the other likewise limits its freedom. Standing in the relation of right to another thus involves both parties acknowledging the conditional validity of the norm contained in parentheses in the first paragraph. The concept of right comes into the picture because individuals who stand in the relation of right must themselves have the concept of right, the rule for making judgments of right. For standing in the relation of right requires the capacity to make judgments of right: to judge whether one’s own action and the action of one’s interaction partner satisfies the criterion of reciprocal self-limitation. The concept of right has therefore not been derived merely “for us” as observing transcendental philosophers. That said, unless standing in the relation of right can be shown to be necessary as a condition of reflective self-consciousness of

fichte’s first principle of right

261

one’s efficacy, possession of the concept of right will not have been shown to be necessary. And as we have seen, there is reason to doubt that Fichte’s account of the transition from summons to relation of right shows it to be necessary that one must respond to the summons by establishing a reciprocal relation of right. But what about the principle of right [Rechtssatz]? The passage at (sw, iii: 52–53) leaves us with two related questions about the principle of right, one interpretative and one philosophical. The interpretative question concerns what “formula” Fichte is referring to when he writes, “the formula that has now been established is the principle of right.” There are two obvious candidates for this “formula.” The first is the formulation in parentheses in the previous clause of the sentence: “each is to limit his freedom through the concept of the possibility of the other’s freedom, under the condition that the latter likewise limit his freedom through the freedom of the former.” The second is the italicized principle in the preceding paragraph: “I must in all cases recognize the free being outside me as a free being, i.e. I must limit my freedom through the concept of the possibility of his freedom.” The two possibilities just enumerated appear rather different. The key difference between the two is that whereas the first option is clearly a conditional practical principle, the second looks unconditional (categorical). The two principles thus appear to license different responses to violations of right by others. Whereas the first option states that an individual is bound to restrict her freedom only if the other does so in relation to her, the second option says that an agent must in all cases limit her freedom, including presumably cases in which the other does not reciprocate. Given this, Fichte’s considered view is best captured by the first interpretative option. In cases of violations of rights, one is not bound to treat the other as a rational being, but rather merely as a sensible being, until the other once again shows herself to be committed to norms of right (sw iii: 48–50). The normativity of the demand expressed by the principle of right thus lacks the unconditionality that characterizes Kantian categorical imperatives. It follows that for Fichte, there is no categorical imperative of right.16 My claim is rather that, given Fichte’s other remarks about the issue of unconditionality, we should understand the first 16

The merely hypothetical status of imperatives of right in Fichte is generally acknowledged in the literature. For example, see Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, p. 212; and Y. Estes ‘Fichte’s Hypothetical Imperative: Morality, Right, and Philosophy in the Jena Wissenschaftslehre’, in D. Breazeale and T. Rockmore (eds.) Rights, Bodies, and Recognition: New Essays on Fichte’s Foundations of Natural Right. Aldershot 2006. I do not consider here the difficult question as to whether there is a way of reading the second interpretative option – the italicized, apparently categorical statement of the principle of right – that makes it consistent with the conditionality Fichte commits himself to in other passages.

262

nance

interpretative option, according to which the principle of right is binding only on the condition of others’ reciprocity, as best expressing Fichte’s principle of right. Fichte’s principle states a normative requirement that is binding on each party to the relation of right, on the condition that the other reciprocally acts according to the principle. The content of the principle concerns determinate spheres of individual free choice. It requires free subjects to voluntarily limit their efficacy to remain within their own sphere in relation to each other: each subject must freely limit its freedom to make room for the other’s sphere of free choice.17 Such a relation of voluntary self-limitation for the sake of the freedom of another can be found in various contexts of ordinary human life. As we have seen, one of the central cases that concerns Fichte in gnr is that of up-bringing. But as I discuss in the next section, in the text of gnr, Fichte also regards the establishment of a civil contract (sw iii: 195) as a case of a relation of right. Fichte describes imperatives of right as “technical-practical.” Speaking metaphorically, the doctrine of right gives rules for the engineering, construction, and maintenance of a specific kind of edifice, namely: the community of free beings as such (sw iii: 9–10). The account given so far, despite not yielding a categorical imperative of right, has direct normative implications: just as a theoretical account of the constitutive elements of a bridge (pilings, trusses, etc.) underwrites hypothetical imperatives that govern the practice of bridgebuilding (“if you want to build a bridge, first you must …”), so an account of the constitutive elements of the community of free beings underwrites hypothetical imperatives that govern the construction of the community of right. The Fichtean theorist of right is an engineer of human community.

6

The Principle of Right and Fichte’s Contractualist Political Theory

The more explicitly political arguments in the later sections of gnr draw deeply and systematically on the account of the principle of right derived in §§ 1–4. My aim in this last section of the paper is to begin to substantiate this claim, and thus to show that the principle of right whose derivation has been described so far in this paper really does serve as the first principle of Fichte’s theory of right.

17

For the emphasis on free self-limitation, see, e.g., gnr §8. On the question of freedom and the relation of right, see my “Freedom, Coercion, and the Relation of Right.”

fichte’s first principle of right

263

First, I consider the sense in which Fichte’s contractualism recapitulates the account of summoning and the relation of right offered in gnr §§ 1–4. In that account, the summoner first tentatively called upon the addressee to exercise its free efficacy, in the process defining determinate spheres of possible efficacy for itself and for the addressee. Then, if the summons is comprehended as such by the addressee; if the addressee reciprocates; and if both parties proceed consistently; the result is a relation of reciprocal recognition of discrete spheres for the exercise of individual free efficacy. The political community of right is founded on an actual civil contract, the terms of which are negotiated among free individuals in light of certain normative constraints.18 In the course of these negotiations, individuals determine spheres of reciprocally recognized free efficacy – that is, they define the relations of right in which they stand with their fellow citizens.19 Just as in the case of up-bringing, in the case of the civil contract, the negotiation must begin with an initial, problematic recognition of the other as a possible interaction partner. If the addressee responds by making a claim to a determinate sphere of free efficacy for itself and indicating a willingness to recognize the summoner as entitled to a like sphere, then the parties can iron out the details of their understanding through interaction (sw iii: 193). Thus when an unafilliated individual presents herself to a community of right, the members of the community, represented by the state, issue her a summons: a demand that she either join their community by recognizing others’ spheres of free activity and reciprocally claiming her own sphere, or remove herself from it (see Fichte’s description of the property contract at sw iii: 210– 215; and his account of cosmopolitan right, sw iii: 369, 383–385). Fichte holds that although the state may force non-members to make a decision one way or another regarding their desire for membership, it may not force others to join.20 In this way, the political summons involved in the establishment of the 18 19

20

I discuss some, but not all, of these normative constraints in “Property and Economic Planning in Fichte’s Contractualism.” Fichte interprets the civil contract as initially establishing a relation of reciprocal recognition between each citizen and each other citizen (sw iii: 195, 204). These I-Thou relations are then transformed in the so-called “unification contract” into organic part-whole relations. See sw, iii: 202–205; and Dean Moyar, “Fichte’s Organic Unification: Recognition and the Self-overcoming of Social Contract Theory,” in Gottlieb, ed. Fichte’s Foundations of Natural Right: A Critical Guide, pp. 218–238. The civil contract takes up the task already alluded to in §§ 3–4 of Fichte’s deduction of his principle of right, namely that of defining mutually recognized concrete spheres of free activity for each citizen, which proves to be an enormously complex task (sw iii: 195). The textual evidence for this interpretative claim is mixed, but I take Fichte’s considered view to be captured by this sentence: “wer in keinem Staate ist, kann von dem ersten Staate, der ihn antrifft, rechtlich gezwungen werden, sich entweder ihm zu unterwerfen,

264

nance

civil contract as a relation of right is structurally analagous to the cases of upbringing described above: the summoner requires the addressee to choose from a determinate set of choices, while leaving the addressee free as to which option to choose within the defined set.21 Depending on the addressee’s response, the summons may then result in the establishment of a reciprocal relation of right. Thus the civil contract that establishes relations of right among citizens mirrors the stages of development found in Fichte’s earlier account of summoning and the relation of right. Second, let us turn to the sense in which Fichte’s political theory and political economy can be seen as complementing and completing the account of individuality initially elaborated in gnr §§1–4. As we have seen, on gnr’s account of individuality, “individuality” always means “individuality in relation to someone else.” In response to the original summons to posit its agency, the I posits itself as an individual free efficacy in relation to the summoner. That relation is sufficient for the I to think itself as an individual – to acquire the concept of individuality, which it can then apply to itself and to others – but it is not yet sufficient for the I to posit itself fully as an individual. For that, one would have to posit oneself as an individual in relation to everyone else within one’s sphere of possible efficacy. For that reason, the true and conclusive determination of the I’s individuality can occur only in an omnilateral set of recognition relations (the civil contract), not in any singular recognition relation to a singular other. This set must encompass all possible interaction partners that one might come across, for only then can the I be secure in the knowledge that the activity that takes place within its sphere will be determined by itself alone. Because the summons is a relation between the addressee and only one specific other person, the initial summoning relation Fichte derives in gnr does not rule out the interference of third parties in the addressee’s sphere of efficacy. For that

21

oder aus seiner Nähe zu entweichen” (sw iii: 369). The language of “Zwang” that Fichte uses here might seem to rule out an interpretation of the relation in terms of summoning, since the summons is supposed to treat the other as a free being through rational interaction, not force. But the force at issue in this passage is the state’s right to force non-citizens to exit its territory. Before exercising this force, the state, on behalf of its citizens, summons the individual to make a choice: either join our community and state, or else you must exit. The state does not force the individual to choose one option or the other; this is rather a matter for free individual choice. If we were to read Fichte as allowing individuals to be forced into the state, this would nullify his earlier, repeated claim that each must freely limit its efficacy for the sake of the other in entering the relation of right. For these reasons, I favor an interpretation of the interaction described at sw iii: 369 as a summoning relation. This should not be taken to rule out that, as in the case of up-bringing, the addressee here may challenge the option set presented to it by the summoner, which is in some cases determined arbitrarily and itself subject to negotiation.

fichte’s first principle of right

265

reason, the addressee’s understanding of its sphere of efficacy is not yet secure, for it may still be subject to arbitrary interference within (what it takes to be) its sphere of efficacy. Fichte makes exactly this point in ghs, where he writes that property rights – the determinate relations of right negotiated in the civil contract – depend on the state, for “only the state can go around asking questions to everyone whom it receives into its alliance … Outside of a state, I will certainly preserve, through my contract with my closest neighbor, a property right against him, just as he would likewise have a property right against me. But if some third person were to come along, he would not be bound by our negotiations” (sw iii: 401). The civil contract that grounds state authority in gnr solves this problem by placing under its jurisdiction all persons who will to inhabit a specific territory together and who freely consent to the terms of the contract, and compelling them to abide by mutually agreed-upon norms of right. As we have seen, it also regulates the entry of new persons into its jurisdiction, summoning them to recognize members of the already-existing community of right, or to depart (sw iii: 369). Only in such a condition can each citizen adequately be guaranteed that her sphere of free efficacy is fully determinate, and contains only her own deeds, not those of any other person. Even if a civil contract is established that solves this problem for one community, additional contracts must be agreed to among communities of right in the international arena. These international agreements establish procedures for mediating relations of recognition between citizens of different nations (sw iii: 371), as well as between individual citizens of one nation and stateless individuals (sw iii: 384–385). And just as this series of contracts determines individuals’ relations to those who are separated by geography or national allegiance, so the set of civil contracts agreed to at the present time must determine the structure of individuals’ possible relations to temporally distinct others, i.e., the structure of all future rightful interactions (sw iii: 100). In a completed system of right, the civil contract and the international agreements appended to it would govern, directly or indirectly, all possible practical interactions with all others with whom each individual might interact. According to the logic of Fichte’s concept of individuality, complete determination of a human being qua individual would require precisely such a determination of the agent’s political and economic relations to all others. Note that this claim does not imply that an individual’s relations to distant others need be as central to her individuality as her relations to close, frequent interaction partners. It may be the case that for the most part, my individual agency is not impacted by my relations to distant others, and Fichte need not claim otherwise. But it is not hard to think of circumstances in which my individuality as defined by my freely chosen activity within my sphere of efficacy

266

nance

could be impacted by distant others. In fact, when it comes to political and economic affairs, it is frequently the case that the actions of distant others impact, directly or indirectly, individuals’ spheres of efficacy – their opportunities for economic activity, for example.22 So a scheme of right that thoroughly determines my relations to distant others will, in principle, better secure the conditions of my individual agency – better allow me to posit myself as an individual – than a scheme that leaves such relations indeterminate, or less determinate. If this reasoning is on the right track, it follows that it is only within a complete civil contract, complemented by similar civil contracts in every other jurisdiction around the globe and mediating international agreements, that individuals can truly and completely posit themselves as individuals. Individuality is thus for Fichte both the minimal starting point of human subjectivity in up-bringing, and the endpoint of a comprehensive, on-going, never fully realized political project. On this reading, the argument in gnr §§ 1–4 both establishes a necessary condition of individual agency – an original summons that allows the I to conceive of itself as an individual agent – and determines the completion of individuality as a practical project requiring the rest of the political program described in gnr and ghs. Fichte’s account of the summons and the relation of right as constitutive moments of individuality allows us to see that if we wish to posit ourselves fully as individuals, then after being summoned to interaction, we must commit to establishing relations of right with any and all other rational agents we encounter.23

Acknowledgements For discussion and comments on previous versions of this paper, I thank David W. Wood, Steve Yalowitz, Whitney Schwab, Jessica Pfeifer, Eric Campbell, Lisa Cassell, and an anonymous referee for this journal. 22 23

It is relevant here that in Fichte’s political theory, one’s primary right to property is the right to a specific occupation, a specific sphere of economic activity (sw iii, 213–215). Fichte clearly holds that there is an ethical duty to will the conditions of our individuality, and thus an ethical duty to seek out, support, and expand rightful relations to others (sw iv: 238). But given Fichte’s separation of right from ethics, within the domain of the theory of right, ethical duties play no role (sw iii: 54). Within gnr, Fichte says that whether we will to stand in relations of right to other individuals, and thus to will the on-going conditions of our own individuality, is a matter of arbitrary free choice (sw iii: 9–11). He also says that whether we will to stand in relations of right to other individuals depends on whether we think and act with theoretical consistency (sw iii: 47). These are two different claims, and I make no attempt here to say how they are supposed to fit together into one picture.

13 I-Hood as the Speculative Ground of Fichte’s Real Ethics Kienhow Goh

Abstract This article considers how the I furnishes a ground for the reality or applicability of the moral principle, or the synthetic unification of the higher and the lower powers of desire, through its originally determined nature. It argues that the nature of I-hood as an immediate unity of seeing and being, an absolute identity of the subjective and objective, is key to establishing the moral principle’s applicability. On its basis, Fichte envisages an originally determined system of drives and feelings on the one side, and of ends on the other, in and through which each of our dutiful actions in each given situation is determined. For Fichte, the question of the moral law’s application has more to do with demonstrating the moral law’s applicability as a principium executionis (or what is the same, the real, practical efficacy of reason) than with employing the law as a discursive criterion for deciding whether actions are dutiful or not. The article clarifies this point by reference to Rehberg’s critique of Kant’s ethics.

Keywords Fichte – I-hood – ethics – real – applicable

In the main ethical treatise of his Jena period Das System der Sittenlehre, Fichte distinguishes his own presentation of Kantian ethics from Kant’s in terms of its being a “real” (reelle) science. We know from the interchangeable use Fichte makes of the terms “reality” (Realitāt) and “applicability” (Anwendbarkeit) in the Preliminary remark on Part Two of the text that he understands by a real ethics or doctrine of morals (Sittenlehre) an applicable ethics. But this only begs the question what it means for an ethics to be applicable. For Kant, an ethics would be applicable when it applies pure a priori practical principles to human beings by appeal to a separate and distinctive set of “principles of application” based on empirical values that stem from their animal nature (e.g., drive

© Kienhow Goh, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_014

268

goh

for food and sex) or social mores and customs (e.g., predisposition for wealth and honor) (see pp. 370–372 [Ak 6:215–217]). Fichte seems to take a similar approach when he distinguishes real ethics from a mere metaphysics of morals (Metaphyik der Sitten) in terms of whether one takes into consideration the lower power of desire: an ethics that considers only for the higher power of desire yields a merely “formal and empty” metaphysics of morals; only one that also takes into consideration the lower power of desire yields a real ethics (se 125 [sw iv: 131]). However, this Kantian approach to Fichte’s real ethics fails to take his claim that it presents a “synthetic unification” of the higher and the lower power of desire seriously. To shed light on the claim, we have to investigate how a peculiar feature of the I enables it to function as the ground of their synthetic unification – its originally determined nature (ursprünglich bestimmter Natur).1 As we do so, it will become clear that the question of the moral law’s application has a very different meaning for Fichte than it has for Kant. The difference is in fact apparent when we view Fichte’s ethics via the lens of the critique which the Hanoverian statesman and philosophical writer August Wilhelm Rehberg advanced against Kant’s ethics. In what follows, I will briefly consider Rehberg’s critique to explain the problem Fichte is concerned to solve before turning to examine the solution. In the Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten as well as the Kritik der praktischen Vernunft, Kant famously presents the moral law as an a priori practical principle by which we are able to distinguish between moral necessary, permissible and impermissible actions. No practical principle that is aimed at achieving some empirical end, he argues, can be instated as a law without contradiction. Since the matter of a practical principle is derived as a rule from experience, the moral law must be a purely formal principle that has nothing 1 This crucial aspect of Fichte’s ethics is generally neglected in the otherwise exceptional recent treatments of it by a host of distinguished scholars from both the Anglo-American and the Continental tradition. See Owen Ware, “Fichte’s Normative Ethics: Deontological or Teleological?” Mind, vol. 127, 506 (April 2018): 565–584; Michelle Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), chapter 3; Allen Wood, Fichte’s Ethical Thought (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), pp. 147–154, 174–184; Friedrike Schick, “Vermittlungen zwischen Natur und Freiheit – der Naturtrieb in § 8 des System der Sittenlehre,” Fichtes System der Sittenlehre. Ein kooperativer Commentar, ed. Sally Sidgwick (Frankfurt am Main: Victtorio Klostermann, 2015), pp. 75–92; Paul Guyer, “Fichte’s Transcendental Ethics,” The Transcendental Turn, ed. Sebastian Gardner and Matthew Grist (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), pp. 135– 158; Frederick Neuhouser, Fichte’s Theory of Subjectivity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), chapter 4. An important exception is Daniel Breazeale’s study of the speculative background of the Sittenlehre in the “Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo.” See Breazeale, “In Defense of Fichte’s Account of Ethical Deliberation,” Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie, Vol. 94, 2012: 190–198.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

269

but its form of lawlikeness for its material content. However, Kant construes the moral law not only as a criterion for distinguishing between moral necessary, permissible and impermissible actions, but also as a maxim of action, i.e., a principle that could serve as a determining ground of the will. By it, reason of itself “determines the will to deeds” (Ak 5:42). For Kant, the moral law functions both as a principle of judgment or appraisal (principium diiudicationis) by which we are able to distinguish between moral necessary, permissible and impermissible actions, and a principle of execution (principium executionis) by which we are able to act.2 The distinctiveness of these two facets of the Kantian moral law is brought to light in an influential review of the zweiten Kritik Rehberg wrote for the October 1788 edition of the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung. While agreeing with Kant that the moral law must be an a priori practical principle that has nothing but its form of lawlikeness for its material content, Rehberg doubts that anyone can act by such a purely formal principle. Granted that a pure practical reason can be thought, “how,” he asks, “can its connection with the world of sense and its reality in it be proved?”3 “Through what shall that transition [from reason to sensibility] occur?”4 Rehberg sought the zweite Kritik in vain for a satisfactory answer to the questions. By the moral psychology he has developed three years earlier, we are able to act morally not because of any real, practical efficacy of reason, but because of our innate capacity as a human being to take pleasure in the formal quality of perfection.5 In the aftermath of Rehberg’s criticism, Kantian ethics is faced with the challenge of proving that reason is of itself practical – in the specific sense of being capable of determining the will to deeds through a law it gives itself, viz., the moral law. Unlike Kant, Fichte approaches the question of the moral law’s application primarily in terms of the challenge Rehberg poses to Kantian ethics to show that (and how) reason can have real, practical efficacy, viz., we can act by the principle of morality.6 While Kant understands the applicability of the

2 See Schulz’s excellent discussion of the difference in Eberhard Günter Schulz, Rehbergs Opposition gegen Kants Ethik (Köln/Wien: Böhlau, 1975), pp. 9–10. 3 August Wilhelm Rehberg, “Review of Kritik der praktischen Vernunft by Immanuel Kant,” Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, no. 188a (August 1788), p. 352. 4 Ibid., no. 188b, p. 353. 5 Under the influence of Ernst Platner, Rehberg has developed a comprehensive moral psychology in Philosophische Gespräche über das Vergnügen three years earlier. See Rehberg, p. 354, and Schulz, pp. 53–63. 6 Rehberg is overtly mentioned by Reinhold in the preface to the second volume of Briefe über die Kantische Philosophie, a work with which Fichte is familiar. Another possible link is through the Kant’s colleague and expositor Court Chaplain Johann Friedrich Schultz. In the draft of a letter to Reinhard dated 20 February 1793, Fichte recounted an earlier conversation

270

goh

moral law in terms of the law’s functionality as a principium diiudicationis,7 Fichte understands it in terms of its functionality as a principium executionis.8 For Fichte, the task of deducing the applicability of the moral law is not, as a noted commentator assumes, one of showing “that the principle can be used to guide action by the sort of agent to whom it is addressed.”9 Rather, it is one of showing that (and how) morally dutiful actions in the sensible world are possible through an investigation of the function of the moral law as a transcendental principle of subjectivity or, more precisely, the law’s workings as a drive. The strategy can be seen as the practical counterpart to that promoted in Section 7 of the Erste Einleitung an die Wissenschaftslehre as the antidote to dogmatic skepticism. There Fichte contrasts two approaches to the transcendental deduction of the pure concepts of the understanding: we can take a top-down approach by beginning with intelligence and deriving the whole system of its necessary acting from its laws; or we can take a bottom-up approach by beginning with experience and deriving the laws “in the form in which they are already immediately applied to objects” from the objects (iwl 27 [sw i: 442]). A bottom-up approach offers no satisfactory reply to dogmatic skeptics’ insistence that the categories are, notwithstanding their apparent universality and necessity, nothing but empirical properties and relations of the objects: “it is hard to see why we should place credence in the unproven assertions of the one,” Fichte admits, “than in the unproven assertions of the other” (iwl 28 [sw i: 442–443]). Only a top-down approach that shows how intelligence gives rise to the objects as part of the whole system of its necessary acting is able to address the dogmatic skeptics’ doubts. By the same token, a bottom-up

with an “independent thinker,” who had raised his doubt – prior to his encounter with the skepticism of Aenesidemus-Schulze and Maimon – concerning the “first principle” of Kant’s system, which, if left unrefuted, “will destroy all philosophy and replace it by a soulless skepticism” (epw 363). The unnamed thinker is standardly recognized to be Schultz (see iwl 57–58 [sw i: 473–474]). By Schulz’s estimate, it is not unlikely, given the deep impression Rehberg’s critique had had on him, that Schultz should have brought it to Fichte’s attention. See Schulz, pp. 78–80, 217–218. Fichte is also known to be highly critical of Rehberg’s political theory in Beitrag zur Berichtigung der Urteile über die französische Revolution (1793) (see sw vi: 82–85, 118–124, 165–169). 7 This is evident in Chapter Two of the Analytic of Practical Reason, where Kant relegates the question to “theoretical use of reason.” As far as practical reason goes, we are concerned with the “schema of a law itself” rather than the “schema of a case in accordance with laws” (Ak 5:68). 8 Fichte describes the question in the second edition of the Offenbarungskritik as one of “how it is possible to relate the moral law, which in itself is applicable only to the form of will of moral beings as such, to appearances in the world of sense” (acr 27 [sw v: 38], emphases added). 9 Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, p. 40.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

271

approach to the transcendental deduction of the moral principle (viz., a deduction of the moral law’s applicability) based on the claim that pure reason proves itself to be practical “through the deed [durch die Tat]”10 offers no satisfactory reply to Rehberg’s (and moral sense theorists’) insistence that the feelings of conscience are, notwithstanding their distinctiveness from sensible pleasure and displeasure, pleasures and displeasures of a peculiar sort. Only a top-down approach that shows how intelligence gives rise to morally dutiful actions as part of the whole system of its necessary acting is able to meet Rehberg’s challenge.11 Although there is no mention of Rehberg anywhere in the corpus, the advantages of viewing the Sittenlehre in the light of Rehberg’s challenge are many. Students of contemporary ethics will find the considerable space devoted in an ethical treatise to the metaphysical question of how rational beings can act in the sensible world to be odd. But it makes sense if the task is to establish the moral law’s applicability as a principium executionis. To prove that reason is of itself practical,12 it is not enough for Fichte to derive a catalogue of duties from the moral law (though he does eventually do this in Division Three, Section Three). He must show not only that the law makes demands on what we do, but that it enforces the conditions necessary for the realization of those demands. Fichte undertakes the task by exploring the role of the moral law as a necessary condition of my acting as a rational being in the sensible world. Consequently, it is no surprise that he should be ready to dismiss Kant’s account of the moral law in terms of a principle of universal legislation as “purely heuristic” (se 222 [sw iv: 234]). For him, the law is regulative for me only because it is “constitutive” of my will in the first place: “The relationship in question is not: because something can be a principle of a universal legislation, therefore it ought to be 10

11

12

In the preface of the zweiten Kritik, Kant remarks that there is no real need for a proof that pure reason is practical because pure practical reason “proves its reality and that of its concepts by what it does [durch die Tat]” (Ak 5:3). Fichte’s concern with the difficulty is unmistakable in the review of Friedrich Heinrich Gebhard’s Über die sittliche Güte he wrote for the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung in October 1793. “It must be proved,” he states at one point in the review, “that reason is practical” (sw viii: 425). On a cautionary note, Fichte does not couch the issue in terms of reason’s practicity, but of its “influence on nature” (se 115 [sw iv: 119]). Unlike Kant and Rehberg, he considers reason to be practical just as long as it determines itself through a pure, original striving or demand it makes on itself. This means that practical reason is the ground rather than the consequence of its entering into relation with sensibility. The concept of practical reason per se does not entail sensible efficacy because the striving or demand by virtue of which reason is practical is a determinacy of a rational being in general – as opposed to a sensible rational being.

272

goh

a maxim of my will; but conversely, because something ought to be a maxim of my will, therefore it can also be a principle of a universal legislation” (se 222 [sw iv: 234]). In other words, there is some kind of a deep, inner connection between the law and my will, so that in willing something contrary to the law, I defeat myself.

1

The Absolute Identity of Subject and Object

Fichte’s response to Rehberg’s challenge turns on the curious thesis that the nature (Natur) of the I, reason or intelligence, is a simple, immediate unity or identity of the subjective and the objective (or simply, subject and object). The characterization of the nature of I-hood is by no means unique to the Sittenlehre. In the published Erste und Zweite Einleitungen an die Wissenschaftslehre, he makes passing mentions of an “immediate unity of being and seeing” (iwl 21 [sw i: 435]) as well as a “subject-objectivity” (iwl 87 [sw i: 502]). In his private lectures on the foundational portion of the Wissenschaftslehre delivered at about the same time, Fichte couches the same duality in terms of the I’s “ideal activity” and “real activity.” In the Sittenlehre, he discusses it in terms of an “absolute identity of the subjective and the objective” (se 45 [sw iv: 42]13) and calls the I the “whole I” (das ganzes Ich) when he wants to stress its difference from its other one-sided appearances. The curious characterization of the I’s nature could simply be taken to mean that nothing is in the I unless it is for the I, or more strongly, that nothing is simpliciter unless it is for the I. It could also be an alternative way of saying what has been said before in the first Jena presentation of the Wissenschaftslehre, namely, that the I’s being consists just in its being thought, that “I am” coincides perfectly with “I am I.” The duality might also be implicit in very structure of knowledge. As Jacobs has observed, in the relation of knowledge, the knowing subject knowingly goes beyond a boundary set by the known object. If it is to know itself as going beyond the boundary, it must be bounded and not bounded: bounded, since it would have no known object otherwise; not bounded, since it would not know itself as going beyond the boundary otherwise. Therefore, there must be two sides to the I, one that is bounded and one that is not.14 But Fichte seems to have something more in mind by it than these. The concept brings together a range of opposites. As we have 13 14

See also se 7, 11, 15, 28, 45–46, 55 (sw iv, 1, 5, 10, 22, 41–42, 52–53). See Wilhelm G. Jacobs, Trieb als sittliche Phänomen: Eine Untersuchung zur Grundlegung der Philosophie nach Kant und Fichte (Bonn: Bouvier, 1967), p. 80.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

273

noted, the ideal activities of thinking, seeing and knowing are associated (if not conflated) with the subjective, while the real activities of driving, willing and being are associated with the objective. The ideal is determinable (and hence indeterminate), while the real is determinate. On account of its being a subject-objectivity, I-hood is both determinable and determinate. Moreover, the subjective is associated with the formal, universal and necessary, while the objective is associated with the material, particular and contingent. Not to be confused with the subjective/objective opposition is the pure/empirical opposition. Unlike the former, the latter is a function of the laws of transcendental reflection rather than those of original consciousness: the pure is the empirical as it is viewed from the standpoint of transcendental philosophy; the empirical is the pure as it is viewed from the standpoint of ordinary life. The whole I is neither merely subjective nor merely objective, but an absolute identity of the subjective and the objective. By the laws of the absolute subject-object identity, the subjective and the objective are necessarily separated from, and determined to, each other in consciousness. As I soon as I am conscious, I am conscious of the knowing subject as being separated from, and determined to, the known object, and vice versa. Yet if the separation of knowing and being is to be the separation within consciousness it is, it must presuppose a simpler, more immediate unity of the two. In other words, if the subject-object relation is to be subordinate to a unity, it must be grounded in the absolute subject-object identity. As the ground of consciousness, the identity necessarily escapes consciousness. Given that consciousness marks the precinct of my knowledge, the whole I is beyond the reach of my knowledge. It is nothing for me but a “unthinkable unity [Eines],” an “empty place of thinking” (se 45, 46 [sw iv: 42]). Nevertheless, I necessarily strive to comprehend it because as an I, my being consists of nothing but self-consciousness. In doing so, I necessarily fall short by viewing myself either subjectively or objectively. When I view myself subjectively, the world appears to me to be in me and a part of me; when I view myself objectively, I appear at other times to be in the world and a part of the world. I am unable to see how both can be true, even as I cannot deny that both are true. Moreover, though I never view the subjective and the objective as identical, I view one as being determined by the other. When I view the subjective as being determined by the objective in cognition, and the objective as being determined by the subjective in action. In cognition, my cognitive concepts (Erkenntnißbegriffe) appear to correlate to objects; in action, objects appear to correlate to my end-concepts (Zweckbegriffe). It follows from the latter that there is in the world of reason “an absolute independence and self-sufficiency of

274

goh

the mere concept (that which is ‘categorical’ in the so-called categorical imperative), due to a causality of the subjective exercised upon the objective – just as there is supposed to be an absolutely self-posited being (of the material stuff), due to a causality of the objective exercise upon the subjective” (se 15 [sw iv: 10]). In this way, the entire system of reason – both with respect to what ought to be and what is simply posited as existing in consequence of this ought, in accordance with the [legislation of the moral law], and with respect to what is immediately found as being, in accordance with the [legislation of the law of thinking] – is determined in advance, as something necessary, through reason itself. se 60 [sw iv: 58]

Theoretical philosophy, insofar as it aims to present the “system of necessary thinking” by means of which the objective is thought of as determining the subjective, is primarily concerned with cognition. Practical philosophy, insofar as it aims to present the “system of necessary thinking” by means of which the subjective is thought of as determining the objective, is primarily concerned with action (se 8 [sw iv: 2]). The cognizing and acting subject is able, by means of reflection, to abstract from itself, thereby separating itself from itself to varying degrees. The material body from which the subject can most readily dissociate stands at the objective, outermost extreme of this self-relation. Intelligence from which it can hardly dissociate at all stands at the subjective, innermost extreme of the relation. The body as “organization” (a self-generating system), “articulation” (viz., an instrument of the will), and the will, stand somewhere in between. In acting, the end-concept stands at the subjective, innermost extreme, followed by willing (Wollen) and effectuating (Wirken). Most interestingly, the absolute subjectobject identity is reiterative in the sense that it grounds the harmony in the relation of the subjective and the objective not only in cognition and action, but also in the subject’s self-relation at every level of its self-objectification. In my striving to grasp the absolute subject-object identity that underlies my selfrelation, I necessarily think of myself either objectively, as an object determined by a subject, or subjectively, as a subject determined by an object, but never both at once. In this way, what appear from within consciousness to be separated from, and determined by, each other as subject and object (e.g., my understanding and external objects, my understanding and my will, my will and my body, my body and other external objects) are at the ground of consciousness one and the same thing – namely, the subject-object=X.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

2

275

The Originally Determined System of Drives and Feelings

In undertaking to show that (and how) we can be motivated by the moral law to act in the sensible world, Fichte begins with the concession that I have no influence in the sensible world except insofar as I am a part of the sensible world. As the material content of all our possible actions derives from the drive that accrues to me as a being of nature – the “natural drive” (Naturtrieb), “I never actually do anything nor can I ever do anything that is not demanded by the natural drive” (se 141 [sw iv: 149]).15 It does not follow from this that the moral principle can have no bearing on what I do (as well as how I do what I do). For from the vantage point of transcendental philosophy, my drive as a being of nature and my essence as a pure spirit (from which the principle is derived) are two sides of one and same thing – namely, the “original drive” (Urtrieb). In §1, Fichte argues that my “essence” (Wesen) as a rational being in general is to be sought in the acting – or, more precisely, willing. The claim might come across as surprising to one who expects an idealist to assign primacy to the ideal activity of thinking. The argument he offers for the claim is that the I is able to find itself only in willing. Here the concept of finding is decisive. The act of finding oneself differs from that of self-positing in an important respect: while the I that is posited in self-positing is given through the act of positing, the I that is found in my finding myself is given independently of my acting of finding. To be sure, intelligence as such (viz., in the narrow sense of a sheer ideal power of thinking) is no less primary than the will. There is even a sense in which it is more primary than the will. Nevertheless, intelligence as such cannot be (or at least be all there is to) the I’s essence because thinking is a mere determinable “agility” or “activity,” and as such, a mere possibility. To be actual, it must be rooted as it were in some fixed, determined “subsistence” or “being.” This is exactly what Fichte means by the I’s essence: the “expressions and appearance [of the I’s essence] may change, since the conditions under which it expresses itself will change; but what expresses itself under all these remains constantly the same” (se 33 [sw iv: 28]). On the other hand, the I’s essence must not, if it is to be the essence of the I, be determined by anything other than itself. It must, even if it is determinate, be determined in a way that is self-determining. Willing is precisely marked by these features. An actual willing is ordinarily recognized to be “primary” in the sense of being “grounded absolutely in itself and in nothing outside of it” (se 30 [sw iv: 24]). Sure enough, if we take an actual willing and abstract it from whatever of it that is foreign to it (viz., the object it

15

See also se 75, 204 (sw iv: 74, 215).

276

goh

is to realize), the thought of willing itself we are left with is that of something that is determined to be self-determining. Fichte describes it as “a tendency to self-activity for the sake of self-activity” (se 34 [sw iv: 29]). Inasmuch as the tendency is determined as self-determining, it is determined as a drive. For a drive is nothing but “a real inner explanatory ground of an actual self-activity” (se 44 [sw iv: 40]). Now as the essence as the I as such (a rational being in general), the tendency or drive is supposed to express itself upon (sich äussern auf ) the whole I. As we have seen, the whole I is neither subjective nor objective, but an absolute identity of the subjective and the objective. As the subjective and the objective are necessarily separated from, and determined by, each other in consciousness, I am unable to grasp the whole I and observe how the drive expresses itself upon it. On my reading, the “original drive” is none other than the tendency or drive as it expresses itself upon the whole I. I am unable to grasp it because I am “simply not in a position to determine how this drive expresses itself upon the whole I” (se 46 [sw iv: 43]). Nevertheless, I know by the fact that the tendency or drive expresses itself upon the whole I that there is such a drive. Although I am unable to grasp the whole I, I view myself subjectively and objectively in my necessary striving to comprehend myself. As it turns out, (i) the deduction of the moral principle in § 3 proceeds by consideration of how the drive expresses itself upon the I taken as a subject, while (ii) the deduction of my original nature in § 8 proceeds from a consideration of how it expresses itself upon the I taken as an object.16 Before examining the deduction of the moral principle, a brief remark on Fichte’s seemingly conflicting attitudes toward such a deduction is in order. On the one side, he declares that nothing but “the I-hood within us or our rational nature” is without a higher ground, and a science of morality first comes into being through a deduction of the moral principle or our moral nature from the “highest and absolute principle” of I-hood (se 20 [sw iv: 14]). On the other, he cautions against being misled “into wanting to provide a further explanation of our consciousness of having duties […] and wanting to derive it from grounds outside of itself, which is impossible and which would violate the dignity and absoluteness of the law” (se 50 [sw iv: 47]), a rule that is “something purely and simply primary, something unconditioned, which has no ground outside itself, but is completely grounded in itself” (se 57 [sw iv: 55]). The conflict is mitigated (if not resolved) if we keep three things in mind. First, Fichte works from the philosophical standpoint of science when he undertakes to deduce the

16

See Jacobs’ summary of how the different modifications of a drive is derived from the original drive in Jacobs, pp. 85–86.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

277

moral principle from I-hood (rationality), but speaks from the metaphilosophical standpoint of critique when he observes that there is no higher principle than the moral law.17 Second, he views the moral principle as different from Ihood in form, but identical with I-hood in substance: my thought of the moral law is “the thought of my own original determination [Urbestimmung]” (se 55 [sw iv: 53]). Third, the deduction aims not so much at justifying the moral law to the skeptic as at bringing to light the transcendental ground-consequence relation of between I-hood (rationality) and the moral principle. Accordingly, the argument proceeds from the premise that a rational being in general is absolutely self-sufficient (see se 52–53 [sw iv: 50]) and does nothing for those who reject the premise. For those accepts the premise, it shows that (and how) the laws of I-hood require that a norm or command be instated. (i) As we have noted, the deduction of the moral principle in § 3 proceeds by consideration of how the tendency or drive expresses itself upon the I taken as a subject. The tendency or drive as it is deduced in § 1 is so far being treated as a product of the philosophical abstraction. This will be referred to according to its varying roles and capacities as the “drive of [or to] self-activity,” the “pure drive” and the “drive to [absolute] self-sufficiency.” Now it is to be treated as a product of original reflection. The I, when viewed subjectively, is intelligence. As a power of thinking, it relates to the drive as “something that is there independently of it.” As the thinking subject shares a “single, unified essence” with the thought object here, it does not remain a “mere onlooker,” but becomes for itself an “absolute real force of a concept.” On its part, the thought object is no longer a mere “absoluteness” that is determined to be self-determining, but becomes an “absoluteness of absoluteness” that is determinable to be such (se 37 [sw iv: 32–33]). In Fichte’s eyes, it is precisely by virtue of intelligence as such that the I is free in the narrow sense of being absolutely spontaneous. Intelligence as such designates a determinable (and hence indeterminate) existence. For something to determine itself, it must have an existence in advance of being determined, viz., an indeterminate existence. As we can think of nothing other than intelligence as having an existence in advance of its nature, we can think of nothing other than what intelligent as free. Yet freedom is not only absolute spontaneity, but also a “power to begin a state (a being and subsistence)” (se 41 [sw iv: 37]). It is not only a matter of forming concepts, but one of producing changes through the concepts. To this extent, it is a function of

17

For a more thorough and thoughtful consideration of Fichte’s alleged two-mindedness, see Daniel Breazeale, Thinking through the Wissenschaftslehre. Fichte’s Early Jena Philosophy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), pp. 301–333, 419–425.

278

goh

something more than a determinable intelligence as such, namely, a determinate tendency to absolute self-activity. The I is free in the full sense of the term only to the extent that it is a tendency to absolute self-activity as well as intelligence as such. However, the I is nothing other than what it posits itself to be (viz, nothing is in the I except what is for the I), and so must posit itself as both. It posits itself as intelligence as such through the thought of its absolutely spontaneous power to begin a state, i.e., its freedom. The tendency is thus thought of merely as a potentially determining power. But if the I is to posit itself as the tendency, it must think of the tendency as an actual determining ground. The task of §3 is then to investigate how it thinks of the tendency as an actual determining ground. As a determination of intelligence, the drive expresses itself upon myself as a subject as a thought. As the self-expression of the drive to self-activity, the thought is distinctive in form. It is not only produced by intelligence, but produced by intelligence in intelligence. Accordingly, it is not conditioned by either any other thought or any external object (see se 48–49 [sw iv: 45–46]). As a determinacy in intelligence, it does not annul the freedom of thinking. The thought “is not one that imposes itself unconditionally,” but “the necessary way one must think if one is to think freely” (se 58 [sw iv: 57]). To be sure, intelligence is free in its act of thinking (rather than not thinking), and free also in its thinking what it freely chooses to think (rather than what it freely chooses not to think). But inasmuch as it thinks and thinks what it freely chooses to think, it necessarily thinks the thought. As a thought of the tendency or the drive to self-activity, the thought is distinctive also in content. As the tendency “cannot be thought away without eliminating the I itself” (se 44 [sw iv]), the thought is that of a law; as the tendency is determined as a drive to absolute selfactivity, the thought is one of a law by which one determines oneself in a way that guards and furthers one’s self-activity. Therefore, just as the I posits itself as intelligence as such through the thought of its freedom, it posits itself as the drive through the thought of the moral law. The tendency is no longer merely thought of as a potentially determining power, but as an actual determining ground. The separation and reciprocal determination of the two thoughts are themselves a function of the nature of I-hood as an absolute subject-object identity. Just as the I thinks of its concepts and objects as being determined by each other in cognition and action, it thinks of its freedom (the subjective in the relationship) and the moral law (the objective in the same) as being determined by each other. By thinking of the law as being determined by its freedom, the I thinks of it as a concept of “something purely and simply primary, something unconditioned, which has no ground outside itself, but is grounded completely

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

279

in itself” (se 57 [sw iv: 55]). On the other hand, by thinking of its freedom as being determined by the moral law, the I thinks of it “as a necessity of determining [itself] through [its] freedom” (se 55 [sw iv: 53]). As it must think of the necessity in a way that does not annul the absolute spontaneity of its freedom, it thinks of the law as a norm or command to which its freedom is subjugated, viz., a law by which it charges itself to act in a way that guards and furthers its self-activity (see se 54 [sw iv: 52]). (ii) On the other hand, the deduction of my original nature in § 8 proceeds by consideration of how the tendency or drive expresses itself upon the I taken as an object. First, the I is nothing but activity, as opposed to being. Inasmuch as it is viewed objectively, however, it is fixed and determined. As an activity that is fixed and determined, the I can be nothing but a drive. Moreover, the I is a determinacy of thinking (as opposed to being). It never simply is; whatever it is, it is for itself. When viewed objectively, however, it is determined independently of freedom. As a determinacy of thinking that is determined independently of freedom, the I can be nothing but a feeling. As the feeling subject and the felt object is “absolutely united” (se 103 [sw iv: 107]) in feeling, this “original feeling of a drive” is by no means “an image or anything similar to the drive’s activity; it is this activity itself” (se 102 [sw iv: 106]). The original feeling of a drive is an “originally determined system of drives and feelings,” with infinitely divisible parts, each of which is an original feeling of drive in its own right. “Nature” (Natur) taken in its strict sense to mean whatever “is fixed and determined independently of freedom,” is nothing but an “original, determinate system of boundedness in general” (se 105 [sw iv:109]). Since feeling and drive are respectively expressions of boundedness and the bound, the originally determined system of drives and feelings is my nature. Owing to it, I have an original, determinate existence prior to, and unconditioned by, the sensible forms of time, space and matter. In the course of my development as a being of nature, my nature as an “original drive” (ursprüngliche Trieb) – not to be confused with the Urtrieb – expresses itself first as the “natural drive,” and subsequently as the “ethical drive” (sittliche Trieb). From the transcendental standpoint, the expression of the natural drive is the result of its separation from the tendency or drive to self-activity in accordance with the laws of the absolute subject-object identity. From this vantage point, my tendency as a pure spirit and my drive as a being of nature are one and the same original drive [Urtrieb], which constitutes my essence [Wesen], simply viewed from two different sides. That is to say, I am a subject-object, and my true essence consists in the identity and indi-

280

goh

visibility of the two. If I view myself as an object completely determined by the laws of sensible intuition and discursive thinking, then what is in fact my one and only drive becomes for me my natural drive, because on this view I myself am nature. If I view myself as a subject, then this same single drive becomes for me a pure spiritual drive, or it becomes the law of self-sufficiency. All phenomena of the I rests solely upon the reciprocal interaction of these two drives, which is, properly speaking, only the reciprocal interaction of one and the same drive. se 124–125 [sw iv: 130]

As a drive that expresses itself upon the whole I, the original drive (Urtrieb) is itself an absolute subject-object identity. By the laws of the absolute subjectobject identity, the subjective in the original drive (the pure drive) and the objective in it (the natural drive) are necessarily separated from, and determined by, each other in consciousness. Yet it is clear from the absolute identity of the subjective and the objective that the pure drive and the natural drive are “two sides” of one and the same drive. There is no natural drive without the pure drive and vice versa, just as there is no one side of a coin without the other. From the empirical standpoint, the separation of the two drives give rise to the possibility of the conflict of their demands. In the course of my spiritual development (through reflection), the natural drive emerges at the most elementary stages, while the pure drive comes on the scene at more advanced stages. Moreover, the natural drive appears in consciousness as it is, viz., as a drive that demands determinate actions that are directed at sensible enjoyment. By contrast, the pure drive appears in consciousness not as it is, but as part of a synthetic unification with the natural drive which Fichte calls the “ethical drive.” The pure drive cannot appear in consciousness as it is because it is directed at a mere negation (namely, renunciation of sensible enjoyment) and no appearance of a mere negation in consciousness is possible. But even as the pure and the natural drive are separated from each other, they are determined by each other. The pure drive (the subjective in the same) furnishes the natural drive, with its form, while the natural drive (the objective in the relationship) furnishes the pure drive with its matter.18 Whether we take the natural drive in connection with its form, or the pure drive in connection with its matter, the result is the same – the ethical drive. The ethical drive can be seen then as 18

See De Pascale’s insightful analysis of the tight interconnectedness of the entire “catalogue of drives” in Carla de Pascale, “Der Trieblehre bei Fichte,” Realität und Gewißheit. FichteStudien, Bd. 6, hrsg. Helmut Girndt und Wolfgang Schrader (Amsterdam/Atlanta: Rodopi, 1994), p. 248.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

281

expressing my original nature most fully and least one-sidedly.19 Like the natural drive, the ethical drive demands determinate actions; unlike the natural drive, it demands determinate actions that are directed at the absolute selfsufficiency of the I as such (a rational being in general). Insofar as it has the pure drive for its form, the natural drive con-forms to the pure drive, and falls within the domain of the latter’s correlative principle, viz., the moral law. Granted that I never do anything that is not demanded by the natural drive, it does not follow that I never act from duty. Quite the contrary, insofar as the natural drive presupposes the pure drive, the moral principle is related to all my acting. The pure drive is “always enduring and active in me” (se 175 [sw iv: 184]). It comes into play in my acting as soon as I act for sensible enjoyment and continues to be at play in it as long as I act as a rational being: “every [acting] must come from the ethical drive [der sittliche Trieb hinzukommen], otherwise no action could follow from the moral law at all [dem Sittengesetze zufolge gar keine Handlung erfolgen]” (se 148 [sw iv: 156]). This is so regardless of whether I act – that is, act with consciousness and free choice – from the law or not, and even before I am aware of its demands (viz., before I am conscious of the ethical drive). The ethical drive is universal in the sense that “it is related to all possible free [that is, formally as well as materially free] actions, to every expression of the natural drive that comes to consciousness according to the above sharply demarcated boundaries” (se 145 [sw iv: 152]). And once I am conscious of the law’s demands, I act either in affirmation of the demands or in denial of them – never in oblivion of them.

3

An Originally Determined System of Things and Their Ends

Of course, to say that the moral principle is related to my acting is not to say that I act from the moral law’s demand, i.e., duty. Acting involves not only the real, striving activity of a drive, but also an ideal, reflecting activity of intelligence upon the drive. In this connection, the examination of convictions by

19

“Der Urtrieb, der ursprünglich blinde Trieb, dem durch das Denken Augen eingesetzt werden, hat im sittlichen Trieb die höchtste Form von Bewußtsein erreicht. Dieses Bewußtsein ist aber nichts anders als Selbstbewußtsein. Im Gewissen erhebt sich das Ich zum höchsten Freiheitsbewußtsein und damit zu sich selbst: ‚unmittelbare[n] Bewußtsein … [seines] reinen ursprünglichen Ich‘.” Christoph Binkelmann, “Phnomenologie der Freiheit. Die Trieblehre Fichtes im System der Sittenlehre von 1798,” Die Sittenlehre J.G. Fichtes, 1798–1812. Fichte-Studien 27, ed. Christoph Asmuth and Wilhelm Metz (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2006), p. 21.

282

goh

means of conscience, i.e., “conscientiousness” (Besonnenheit), is decisive. Following Kant, Fichte takes conscientiousness to be “of itself a duty” (Ak 6:185). But he goes further to elevate its status to that of a duty of duties. Conscientiousness, he argues, furnishes me with “[t]hat without which there could be no duty whatsoever” (se 157 [sw iv: 165]), namely, a “criterion for the correctness of [my] conviction concerning duty” (se 156 [sw iv: 165]). For reasons I cannot detail here, I reject the increasingly prevalent view that Fichte allows for the possibility of my acting contrary to duty while acting conscientiously (i.e., from duty).20 As I understand him, when I act conscientiously, I act from a complete reflection on the drive. And when I act from a complete reflection on the drive, I act in accordance with duty (i.e, do what the moral law demands). But to establish the moral law’s applicability as a principium executionis, it is not enough to show that (and how) the moral principle is related to all my acting. We must also show that (and how) I can act conscientiously. Insofar as the moral law demands that I act in the sensible world, its demand presupposes that I am able to project an end-concept. This in turn presupposes that I have cognition of the world. As we have seen, my nature consists of an originally determined system of drives and feelings. According to Fichte, my 20

See Wood, Fichte’s Ethical Thought, pp. 157–162; Owen Ware, “Fichte on Conscience,”Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 95:2 (2016): 376–394; Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, pp. 128– 143. Kosch rightly notes that the first two sections of Division Three are divided along the lines of the distinction (introduced at the beginning of §13) between formal and material freedom. See Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, p. 129. On this basis, she argues that the first section addresses the question of whether “my current level of confidence in my judgment A [is] sufficient to justify me in acting upon A,” whereas the second section addresses the significantly different question of whether “this X that I have hit upon after this process of deliberation [is] the action that as a matter of actual fact lies on the path toward absolute independence?” Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, p. 132. The significance of Fichte’s answer to the former question is, she argues, “purely procedural and has no systematic substantive upshot.” Kosch, Fichte’s Ethics, p. 6. In answer to the latter question, Fichte offers a “substantive normative ethics” that advances the maximization of material independence as a criterion for morally right actions, independently of any appeal to conscience. Granted that the two questions are significantly different, I do not think that the two sections are divided along these lines. In my view, Fichte does not admit any higher criterion for morally right actions than the approval of conscience: “Conscience is itself the judge of all convictions [– not of whether one is convinced –] and acknowledges no higher judge above itself. It has final jurisdiction and is subject to no appeal” (se 165 [sw iv: 174]). Owing to his concern with the question of the moral law’s applicability as a principium executionis, he is interested to account for the specification not only of which type of action is morally right, but of which token of (possible) action is the morally right one for me in a given situation. While the second section addresses morality’s material condition in the sense of specifying morally right action-types, the discussion of conscience in the first section is pivotal to specifying morally right action-tokens.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

283

cognition of the sensible world is based on that system. Through intelligence’s ideal, reflecting activity upon the drive (as well as the productive power of imagination), the originally determined system of drives and feelings is objectified and sensibilized (versinnlicht), i.e, takes the sensible forms of time, space and matter.21 The upshot is a system of things making up the sensible world. While the original drives of the system need not be bound in the determinate way in which they are bound, they must be bound in some determinate way. Accordingly, things and their determinations are, despite their particularity and contingency, lawlike in their reciprocal determinations. Moreover, a demand of the moral law presupposes that my capacity to recognize those features of the sensible world that are of moral consequence. As the law refers to a “domain of the sensible world” in the demands it makes on me, the demands could not be made if I had no cognition of the domain (se 68 [sw iv: 66]). Also, if the law is to enforce the conditions necessary for the realization of its demand, it must secure my capacity to recognize those features. In this connection, Fichte proposes a conjecture that would, if it were confirmed, prove that the moral law has “a reality [Realitāt] and an objective meaning entirely different from what has previously been maintained” (se 71 [se iv: 69]). The law, he proposes, functions as “a theoretical principle for the determination of our world” (se 70 [se iv: 68]). Through its capacity as a theoretical principle, the law gives rise to “original determinations” (Urbestimmungen) in my world and things in it. These include the “contingency” (Zufälligkeit) of the world – or, what turns out to be the same for Fichte, the “purposiveness” (Zweckmässigkeit) of things in the world, the articulation (viz., the instrumentality) of my body, and the rationality of other beings in the world. Also, it gives rise, along with things’ purposiveness, to their “final ends.” These determinations mark out precisely the domain to which the moral law refers in the demands it makes on me. For the law demands nothing but this: “act in accordance with your cognition of the original determinations (the final ends) of the things outside you” (se 71 [sw iv: 69]). Commentators generally take it for granted that Fichte thinks of final ends primarily in terms of what Kant refers to by “practical purposiveness.” This, I think, is a mistake. To be sure, final ends have practical consequences. But they are in the first instance modelled after Kant’s concept of the “purposiveness of nature” (Naturzweckmässigkeit), as opposed to his concept of “practical purpo21

For a detailed account of how external objects arise from drives and feelings, see §10 of Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre. For a concise discussion of the account, see Jacobs, pp. 93–98, and Petra Lohmann, Der Begriff des Gefühl in der Philosophie Johann Gottlieb Fichtes (Amsterdam/New York: Rodopi, 2004), pp. 79–91.

284

goh

siveness.”22 In the Preliminary remark, Fichte mentions “final ends” in parenthesis by way of clarifying what he has in mind by “original determinations”; as original determinations, final ends have a transcendental ground in reason. He speaks of my cognition of the (final) ends of things or objects. This strongly suggests that he construes the concept of a final end as a “cognitive concept” (Erkenntnißbegriff ) rather than a “end-concept” (Zweckbegriff ), a “copy” (Nachbild) of external objects rather than their “model” (Vorbild). Instead of stipulating that we to act in fulfillment of the final ends of things, he specifies that we act in accordance with our cognition of the final ends of things. No doubt, we act in fulfillment of things’ final ends when we act in accordance with our cognition of the things’ final ends. Nevertheless, Fichte’s round-about way of saying the former indicates that he regards final ends as being originally given, and not than arbitrarily “thought up” through either a process of moral deliberation or an exercise of free choice. Fichte’s view that things have originally determined final ends is hard to square with his denial that there is relative purposiveness in nature (see se 123 [sw iv: 128]). But in view of his account of moral deliberation in § 15, Section v, and §17, Section iv, there is no doubt that he holds it. By the account, my original nature is vital to determining what the moral law demands. Commentators who have recently been drawn to §15 in their effort to elucidate Fichte’s theory of moral deliberation tend to rely exclusively on Section iv. This is regrettable. Admittedly, Fichte writes in Section iv as if reason relies on something other than itself to furnish the moral law with its material content: “[the ethical] drive determines the power of judgment – not materially, not by giving something to the power of judgment, which is something the drive is unable to do –, but formally: i.e., it determines the power of judgment to search for something” (se 158 [sw iv: 166]). But this is true of the ethical drive, Fichte goes on to reveal in Section v, only “insofar as it appears within consciousness”; things are radically different “insofar as [it] is viewed as what is original,” i.e., my nature as an original drive: The ethical drive, insofar as it appears within consciousness, demands some concept=X, which is, however, insufficiently determined for the ethical drive; and to this extent the ethical drive formally determines the power of cognition: i.e., it drives the reflecting power of judgment to search for the concept in question. The power of cognition, however, also 22

Kant underscores the distinctiveness of the “purposiveness of nature” from “practical purposiveness (of human art as well as of morals)” in the second Introduction of the Kritik der Urteilskraft (see cpj 68 [Ak 5:181]).

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

285

determined materially with regard to concept by the ethical drive, insofar as the latter is viewed as what is original; for, as we have just seen, X arises through the complete determination of the object by means of the entire original drive, it follows from this that all cognition, considered objectively as a system, is thoroughly determined in advance and that it is determined by means of the ethical drive. se 163 [sw iv: 172], emphases added

This passage exposes the problem of reading Section iv in isolation from Section v. In the first instance, I posit an object in my world on the basis of the original drive. This, as it turns out, is the basis of the system of things we call “the sensible world.” In doing so, I am conscious of what the object is like, i.e., its inner properties. On the other hand, I can posit the drive itself – as a longing or desiring and relate it to an object in my world (viz., attend to the freedom by which I can overcome the boundedness on which the object is based). In doing so, I become conscious of “what the I wants to bring about in the object, what the I might use the object for; i.e., the [object’s] originally determined end” (se 200 [sw iv: 210]). At the very least, I become conscious of possible external ends of the objects, viz., possible ways of modifying it or possible uses of it. On Fichte’s view, the relative purposiveness of an object is nothing its modifiability and usability. Moreover, the determination of the external ends of an object is nothing but the determination of its inner properties “from a different point of view” (se 162 [sw iv: 171]). They are not superimposed on the object, but derived from the object itself. They are as it were what the objects are originally meant (to be used) for. Thus the relative purposiveness of objects is intrinsic to the objects because the objects have their basis in my original nature. My nature as an original drive underlies not only a system of things making up the sensible world, but also a system of the things’ final ends. The former derives from a reflection on the drive, while the latter derives from a further positing of the drive and a relating of the posited drive to a posited thing. I grasp the whole of the thing’s ends (its final end) when I reflect completely on the drive on which the thing is based and apprehend it totally. When I reflect incompletely on the drive and apprehend it partially, I grasp only a portion of the thing’s ends and posit a “voluntary end” (willkürliche Zweck) for it. As a part of a thing’s end, a “voluntary end is at the same time an original one” (se 200 [sw iv: 210]). Now it is clear how I can, in acting by the natural drive, act contrary to duty: I act in fulfillment of things’ final ends only when I grasp the whole of their purposiveness (their final ends) by reflecting completely on the original drive and apprehending it totally. When I grasp only a portion of things’ purposiveness by reflecting incompletely on the drive, I act only in fulfillment of

286

goh

voluntary ends. In this way, the issue of whether I act in accordance with duty is recast in terms of the completeness of my reflection on the original drive and the comprehensiveness of my apprehension of it.23 In the final analysis, Fichte’s real ethics is a “situation ethics” of sorts.24 It maintains on the one side that there is something=X that I ought to do in a given situation (Lage), while conceding on the other that there can be no thoroughgoing determination of X by means of discursive concepts. To be sure, a catalogue of duties for Jedermann can be provided (and is provided by Fichte in the third section of Division Three of the Sittenlehre) at the scientific level.25 Furthermore, the original determinations of things furnish discursive concepts in terms of which rational discourses and intercourses over what each of us ought to do here and now can be conducted. However, these as a rule underdetermine (viz., fall short of thoroughly determining) what each of us at the practical level ought to do in each given situation. For example, they tell me that I ought to always tell the truth, but not with whom I ought to speak in the first place. To put it in the Reinholdian terms Fichte appropriates in the Offenbarungskritik for his own purposes, there is more to the universality of the moral law than its universal validity (Allgemeingltigkeit), namely, its universal enforcement (Allgemeingeltung): the law’s universal validity speaks to its form as a law, while its universal enforcement speaks also to the matter that conforms originally to it (see acr 35–38 [sw v: 48–51]). The former derives from the form of the original drive taken as distinct from, and opposed to, its matter, while the latter derives from the drive’s form and matter taken in their absolute identity. On account of my inability to grasp the absolute identity, I am left only with a striving to grasp it. I am always incomplete in my reflection on the original drive and partial in my grasp of things’ purposiveness. What this means for moral deliberation is that I never take myself to have the final, unproblematic view of what features of a particular situation are morally relevant and what not. For any view I hold, I always challenge myself to become more deeply convinced of it.

23

24

25

Fichte by no means intends this to be a comprehensive account of evil and immorality. In particular, he omits here an account of perverseness (Verkehrtheit), whose possibility he notes at several points (see se 173 [sw iv: 183]). I follow Wood’s lead in approaching Fichte as an early proponent of “situation ethics,” taken broadly to mean that “for the ordinary agent, what the agent ought to do is determined by reflective consideration of […] the particular facts of the agent’s situation.” Wood, Fichte’s Ethical Thought, p. 151. See Ware’s compelling argument for a weak version of the “Indeterminacy Argument” in Ware, “Fichte’s Normative Ethics: Deontological or Teleological?”: 573–574.

i-hood as the speculative ground of fichte’s real ethics

4

287

Conclusion

To conclude, Fichte’s real ethics is aimed primarily at addressing Rehberg’s challenge to show that (and how) we can act by the principle of morality. It seeks to establish the moral law’s applicability as a principium executionis by exploring its role in my capacity to act (as a rational being) in the sensible world. The result is a highly provocative account of moral motivation that has not yet been understood in the literature. By the account, my capacity to act from duty is not externally related to, and superimposed on, an otherwise selffunctioning capacity to act for sensible enjoyment. By virtue of the absolute subject-object identity, my essence as a pure spirit (from which the moral principle is derived) and my drive as a being of nature are two sides of the same coin. Hence it does not follow from the fact that I do not act in the sensible world except by means of the sensible force of the natural drive that I am incapable of acting from the moral law. The moral principle is related to all my acting, and to the extent that I act in view of the moral law’s demand, I act either in reverence of the demand or in scorn of it – never in indifference to it. Most importantly, what I ought to do in a given situation is originally determined by my nature, independently of my free choice, and moral deliberation is not a matter of determining what I ought to do but of reflecting on what is determined that I do.

14 The Role of First Principles in Fichte’s Philosophy of History Pavel Reichl

Abstract In this article, I explore the role of the first principle in Fichte’s philosophy of history and assess the extent to which its introduction is able to resolve problems in the philosophies of history of his predecessors. Particularly, I focus on Fichte’s response to the question of how history can be grasped in a systematic manner for the purposes of theoretical cognition. I argue that while Fichte is able to resolve the tension between Herder’s pluralism and Kant’s chiliasm in an innovative manner, the deployment of his first principle is ultimately unsuccessful in establishing historiography on a firmer scientific foundation.

Keywords philosophy of history – first principle – historiography – Fichte – Kant – Herder

Fichte is perhaps best known as a follower of Kant whose attempt to insulate the Critical Philosophy against skepticism instead ended up transforming it. This transformation proceeded by way of the introduction of a first principle that aimed to secure the foundations of the Critical Philosophy and to more closely unify the domains of theoretical and practical reason. Fichte’s subsequent attempt to develop a system of philosophy on the basis of these newly secured foundations and to deploy the first principle within each part of the system is less well known. This is especially true in the case of Fichte’s philosophy of history. Not only is this aspect of his system overshadowed by the historicist philosophies of his German Idealist successors, but Fichte himself dedicated much less energy to developing this area of his thought. Despite this relative lack of development, Fichte’s 1806 lectures on the Characteristics of the Present Age present the outlines of an innovative philosophy of history that brings the first principle to bear on outstanding issues in the philosophy of history of his predecessors in a potentially productive manner. © Pavel Reichl, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_015

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

289

Here too Fichte attempts to transform the Kantian framework for thinking about history on the basis of a first principle. However, Kant’s philosophy of history was not intended to emulate the revolutionary break with the tradition that the first Critique purported to bring about. Rather, it was firmly embedded within a tradition of philosophical writing on history, engaging especially closely with Herder’s epoch-making contribution to the genre. For this reason, the context of the confrontation between Herder and Kant on the topic of history provides a crucial backdrop for understanding and assessing Fichte’s own approach to the topic. In what follows, I focus on the question of whether Fichte’s deployment of a first principle enables him to resolve outstanding problems in the Herderian and Kantian frameworks for understanding history from a theoretical perspective in particular.1 I argue that Fichte achieves an innovative synthesis of the ostensibly irreconcilable positions of his two predecessors. In this manner, he is able to move beyond Kant chiliastic model of history by successfully integrating Herder’s pluralism into a transcendental framework. I thus disagree with Kühn’s assessment of Fichte’s philosophy of history as a mere “caricature” of Kant’s that makes no “positive contribution” to our understanding of history.2 However, I also argue that Fichte’s advance over Kant does not lie where it is often thought to lie. As commentators frequently note, among Fichte’s primary aims is to turn the philosophy of history into a science.3 In this manner, Fichte seeks to put a “long-awaited end to the blind Herumtappen (groping) that plagues the knowledge of history” and to finally guarantee its scientific progress.4 This progress is to be achieved by substituting for the regulative principle employed in Kant’s philosophy of history a constitutive one. As 1 I thus, wherever possible, not only leave aside questions of the moral elements in Fichte’s thoughts on history, but also questions about how the philosophy history relates more generally to rest of his system. For two recent contributions addressing precisely these questions see, respectively, Serrano Marin, V. “Ética y Filosofía de la Historia en Fichte.” Pensamiento. Revista de Investigación e Información Filosófica 75.284 (2019): 621–638 and Nuzzo, A. “Fichte’s Philosophy of History: Between A Priori Foundation and Material Development.” In: Altman, M. (ed.) The Palgrave Fichte Handbook. Palgrave Macmillan 2019, pp. 373–394. 2 Kühn, Manfred. “Kant and Fichte on ›Universal History‹.” Internationales Jahrbuch des Deutschen Idealism: International Yearbook of German Idealism (2014): 52. 3 As Picardi puts it, Fichte wants to “elevate historiography to a science, making it able to comprehend the meaning of events and their true connection”, Picardi, R. “The ›Guiding Thread‹ of Universal History: Kant’s Legacy in Fichte’s Philosophy of History.” In: Bacin, S., C. La Rocca, A. Ferrarin, & M. Ruffing (eds.) Kant and Philosophy in a Cosmopolitan Sense. Berlin 2013, p. 840. For similar claims, see Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 377, and Serrano Marin, “Ética y Filosofía de la Historia en Fichte”, p. 631. 4 Nuzzo “Fichte’s Philosophy of History,” p. 379.

290

reichl

Picardi puts this point, Fichte’s first principle “is not a merely regulative idea, corresponding to the systematic need of reason, but is rather an inner and constitutive law of historical facts.”5 Ascribing constitutive status to the first principle would then make it possible, in Radrizzani’s words, to “present an exhaustive deduction of the transcendental structure of history.”6 This deduction of the structure of history was to mirror Kant’s deduction of the categories that provide the structure of experience in general.7 In this manner, Fichte aimed to do for the philosophy of history in particular what Kant aimed to do for philosophy in general: as Nuzzo puts this point, “echoing Kant’s famous pronouncement in the 1787 preface to the first Critique, Fichte maintains that the accidental wanderings, this time of historical knowledge, can be brought to the secure path of a properly scientific advancement.”8 However, I argue that this ambition ultimately remains unfulfilled. Namely, despite Fichte’s claims to the contrary, his a priori principles continue to operate in a de facto regulative manner similar to the way in which they operate within the Kantian philosophy of history. Thus, Fichte’s primary contribution is to expand the explanatory scope of the latter by means of integrating Herderian elements, but not to raise the philosophy of history to science by means of the introduction of constitutive principles. My plan is as follows. In part i, I look at Herder’s pluralistic model and how this set the tone for the future development of the philosophy of history. In part ii, I look at Kant’s attempts to improve upon Herder by means of the introduction of an a priori principle that would set the philosophy of history on a scientific basis. I also highlight the chiliastic consequences of Kant’s principle. In part iii, I examine the role of Fichte’s first principle in his philosophy of history as developed in the lectures on the Characteristics of the Present Age. In the final part, I discuss the epistemic status of Fichte’s principle, and argue that while it does not set the philosophy of history on a firmer scientific basis, it does enable Fichte to forge a middle path between Herder’s historical pluralism and Kant’s philosophical chiliasm. 5 Picardi, “The ›Guiding Thread‹ of Universal History”, p. 841. See also Kühn, Manfred. “Kant and Fichte on ›Universal History‹”, p. 49. 6 Radrizzani, I. “The Wissenschaftslehre and Historical Engagement.” In James, D., and G. Zöller (eds.) The Cambridge Companion to Fichte. Cambridge, 2016, p. 223. On Fichte’s “deduction of history” see also Rockmore, T. “Fichte on Knowledge, Practice, and History.” In Breazeale, D., & T. Rockmore (Eds.) After Jena: New Essays on Fichte’s Later Philosophy. 2008, Northwestern University Press, p. 231 ff. 7 Aichele, A. “Ending Individuality: The Mission of a Nation in Fichtes Addresses to the German Nation.” In James, D., and G. Zöller (eds.) The Cambridge Companion to Fichte. Cambridge, 2016, p. 250. 8 Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 379.

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

291

i As the title of Herder’s 1774 work This Too a Philosophy of History for the Formation of Humanity implies, the production of philosophies of history was an increasingly common practice in the second half of the 18th century. Turning the scientific principles of Enlightenment thought to the field of history, this burgeoning genre sought to provide a teleological explanation of the development of history as a whole. More often than not, the teleological destination of mankind was identified with the Enlightenment culture itself. As a consequence, previous historical periods were seen as mere stepping stones on the path toward the present day, or as mere aberrations from the true and the good on humanity’s path towards enlightenment.9 The title of Herder’s text, however, contains a dose of irony: over and above the aim of merely providing another addition to the ranks of the Enlightenment tradition of philosophy of history, it instead sought to criticise, transform and replace it. According to Herder, the above view of history was based on a sleight of hand. Rather than discovering a transhistorical principle based on which the teleological development of humanity could be judged, Enlightenment philosophers of history were instead projecting the standards of their own particular historical age onto history as a whole. In taking their own normative framework as the standard against which to measure the past, Herder accused Enlightenment philosophers of history of “beautifully fictionalizing” particular historical cultures.10 According to Herder, the triumphalist attitude of Enlightenment philosophers of history masked an absence of historical awareness. As he states in an early essay, people who are “ignorant about history know only their own age” and “believe that the current taste is the only one and so necessary that nothing but it can be imagined.”11 As it is with tastes, so it is with the other ruling norms and cognitive and axiological principles of an age. The antidote to this attitude, according to Herder, is to learn to understand the historical diversities and particularities of each historical age. Time changes everything, including the “form” and “surface” of the earth, and so one must accept that “changed are the race, the manner of life, the manner of thought, the form of govern-

9

10 11

See Mah, H. “German historical thought in the age of Herder, Kant, and Hegel.” In: L. Kramer and S. Maza (eds.) A Companion to Western Historical Thought. Oxford 2002, pp. 143–165. Herder, J.G. Philosophical Writings, Cambridge 2002, p. 255. Ibid.

292

reichl

ment, the taste of nations” throughout each historical age.12 As Herder says in a quotation that is often taken to symbolise his historical pluralism, “each nation has the center of its happiness within itself.”13 From this perspective, it is impossible to judge the level of happiness attained in a past age against contemporary or ostensibly universal standards of happiness, and one must instead judge each historical age according to its internal standards. The resulting philosophy of history is one that provides painstakingly detailed reconstructions of the principles underpinning the lives a particular historical ages or cultures. As Herder puts it, his philosophy of history seeks to “put together in imagination the taste and the character of each age, and to travel through the various periods of world events with the penetrating look of a traveler hungry to learn”.14 Because the “kernel of history” is the spirit of changes, Herder focuses on the “circumstances of an age” and its “national and generational virtues.”15 This emphasis on the particularity and relativity of all cognitive, moral, and aesthetic principles to a given historical age brings Herder’s philosophical view of history close to 20th century historicist positions. For example, Gardner argues that Herder is the originator of historical relativism, because for him “questions of truth or validity can legitimately be raised only … by reference to the presuppositions of some particular sociallydetermined Weltanschauung.”16 Herder was keenly aware of the potentially skeptical consequences of such a position and partially sought to ameliorate these in later works such as the Ideas for the Philosophy of the History of Humanity. This was to be achieved by determining a universal final end that would guide the development of human history as a whole. Herder thus ultimately presents a teleological account of history that aims to show how nature’s laws seem purposively designed to accommodate the diverse purposes of various ages, leading to the development of what he called “Humanität”. This concept was to serve as a transhistorical standard that could unify the field of history by bringing the plurality of ages under a common roof, thereby also conferring a scientific form to the philosophy of history.17

12 13 14 15 16 17

Ibid. Herder, Philosophical Writings, p. 297. Herder, Philosophical Writings, p. 254. Herder, Philosophical Writings, pp. 334–335. Gardiner, P. “German Philosophy and the Rise of Relativism.” In: The Monist, 64/2 (2001), p. 145. Herder, J.G. Outlines of a Philosophy of the History of Man. London 1800, p. x.

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

293

However, pressures to avoid an Enlightenment faith in a fixed human nature as the teleological pinnacle of history, and faithfulness to his original insight in the relativity of social and cultural ends to particular historical ages, prevented Herder from sufficiently determining the concept of Humanität as to make it capable of providing such a firm scientific basis for his philosophy of history. Indeed, it is difficult to see how the twin aims of respecting historical relativity and maintaining a transhistorical teleological standard could be harmonised within one project, which sometimes leads commentators to distinguish between Herder’s “two philosophies of history.”18 Indeed, today Herder’s abiding contributions to the philosophy of history remain the insight that each age has its particular standards within itself and the subsequent richness of the accompanying historical analyses of the manners of life of particular historical peoples.19

ii Kant’s primary response to Herder is implicit in the title of his most famous essay on the philosophy of history, Idea for a Universal History from a Cosmopolitan Perspective. The substitution of the singular “Idea” for Herder’s plurality of “Ideas” indicates Kant’s belief that a philosophy of history must be more firmly grounded on a single idea that could serve as a guiding thread. Lacking this basis, Kant believed that Herder’s approach is unable to achieve “a careful distinction and proof of principles,” and ultimately collapses into a sweeping and chaotic poetic vision (aa 8:45). Thus, Herder’s jumble of ideas underpinning each historical age should be brought together under one idea that would enable history as a whole to become an object of systematic investigation. The function of this idea would be to “postulate complete unity of the understanding’s cognition”, and thus to enable a given body of cognitions to be transformed from a merely “contingent aggregate” to a scientific system based on a priori principles (KrV A645/B673). The basic outlines of Kant’s philosophy of world history can be spelled out in the following way. The guiding thread underpinning world history is an idea in the sense that it conceives the history of humankind as a complete unity

18 19

Wells, G.A. “Herder’s Two Philosophies of History.” In: Journal of the History of Ideas (1960), pp. 527–537. For the argument that Herder is among the primary founders of historicism, see the classical study: Meinecke F., Die Entstehung des Historismus. Munich 1965, pp. 355–444.

294

reichl

with an underlying telos.20 This idea is not constitutive of the objective development of history, but is useful as a heuristic principle for understanding the course of history.21 In this sense, it is able to serve as a “guiding thread a priori” (aa 8:30) by means of which a formerly “planless aggregate of human actions” can be exhibited as a “system” (aa 8:29). Due to its regulative status, a philosophical account of world history is not intended as a substitute for empirical history, but instead should tell us “how the course of the world would have to go if it were to conform to certain rational ends” (aa 8:29). It is thus possible to posit “a hidden plan of nature” that directs the historical development of the human species towards a state of affairs in which it can fully develop all of its predispositions (aa 8:27). Furthermore, Kant tells us, not only is this idea merely possible but also justified, because a history written according to it would create hope for the establishment of the above state of affairs and in this manner further the hidden aims of nature. Thus, Kant insists that such a justification of the idea of a plan of nature “is no unimportant motive for choosing a particular viewpoint for considering the world” due to the aforementioned hope it is able to generate, further underlining the idea’s regulative nature (aa 8:30). There is some debate on how precisely to understand the status of this principle. The two most plausible options are that it be viewed within the framework of the third Critique as an a priori principle for our faculty of judgement,22 or within the framework of the first Critique as an architectonic device for unifying historical data.23 In either case, the principle has a merely subjective status, pertaining to how we ought to make judgements about history. This principle, furthermore, substitutes Herder’s pluralistic account of historical ages with a chiliastic one. Kant’s principle, namely, cuts history into two great ages, that which comes before the plan of nature is fulfilled and that which lies after. This aspect of Kant’s philosophy has been explored in most detail by Wood, who terms the two ages “the epoch of nature” and the “epoch of freedom”.24 In the first of these ages, as mentioned, nature seeks to 20 21

22 23

24

For an argument for this claim see Allison, H. Essays on Kant. Oxford 2012, pp. 236–237. For a development of this theme, see Kleingeld, P. “Kant on Historiography and the Use of Regulative Ideas.” In: Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part A 39/4 (2008), pp. 523–528. Makkreel, R. Imagination and Interpretation in Kant: The Hermeneutical Import of the Critique of Judgement. Chicago 1990, pp. 130–153. Deligiorgi, K. “The role of the ‘plan of nature’ in Kant’s Account of History from a Philosophical Perspective.” In: British journal for the history of philosophy 14/3 (2006), pp. 451– 468. Wood, A. Kant’s Ethical Thought. Cambridge 1999, p. 296.

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

295

develop the capacities of the human race according to its hidden plan. Next, according to Wood, “nature’s own purposes require that human beings should emerge at a certain point from the tutelage of nature and begin to set rational collective ends.”25 This institutes the epoch of freedom, in which the race develops according to rational rather than a natural plan, that is, based on freedom rather than on nature. In this sense, Wood considers Kant’s philosophy of history to be similar to that of Marx, in that “both see past human history (and future history, too, as long as the epoch of nature lasts) as ›naturally evolved‹ (naturwüchsig), but look forward to the future as something to be posited through freedom.”26 For this reason, Kant can claim that “one sees that philosophy can also have its chiliasm” (aa 8:27), in which the human race achieves a state of perpetual peace and works to construct Kant’s morallypractical version of the kingdom of God on earth. Though Kant elevates philosophy of history to a scientific status, when contrasted with Herder this status seems to be achieved at the expense of the possibility of providing detailed analyses of historical particularity. It is not that Kant does not believe, as Herder does, that each age represents a particular epistemic and axiological paradigm. Rather, it is that on Kant’s model such a paradigm must be empirical and, because philosophy of history operates at the a priori level, is thus beyond the remit of the latter. Given his first principle, at this a priori level Kant’s philosophy of history can thematise at maximum two historical paradigms, which coincide with the epochs before and after the achievement of the plan of nature. In this manner, Herder’s pluralism is replaced with Kant’s chiliastic dualism, with the accompanying danger that Kant thus loses the richness of Herder’s descriptions of the axiological and epistemological systems of historical periods at the expense of systematicity. The twin aims of doing justice to the specificity of particular historical ages and of providing a systematic form based on a first principle seem to pull in opposite directions, apparently leaving the philosophy of history with an exclusive choice between the historical pluralism represented by Herder and the philosophical chiliasm represented by Kant.

25 26

Wood, Kant’s Ethical Thought, p. 298. Ibid.

296

reichl

iii The primary source for Fichte’s philosophy of history is his 1806 lecture entitled The Characteristics of the Present Age. Though the explicit aim of these lectures is to provide a philosophical view of the present age, Fichte believes this can only be done against the backdrop of a philosophical view of history as a whole. Similarly to Kant’s conception, Fichte tells us that a philosophical view entails that one “bring a manifold of experience under a common principle” (GdgZ sw vii, 3). This procedure is contrasted to what is termed an “empiricist” approach. An empiricist tasked with accounting for the present age would merely “seize upon some of its most striking phenomena, just as they presented themselves to casual observation” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). As a result, the empiricist would lack “any assured conviction that he had understood” the phenomena under consideration, and would be incapable of pointing out “any other connexion between them than their coexistence in one and the same time” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). This approach would thus produce what Kant would term an aggregate, namely, a multitude of cognitions lacking the systematic unity that only a coordinating idea can provide. In contrast to the empiricist, according to Fichte, a genuinely philosophical approach to history would seek out precisely the a priori idea lying behind the aggregate of empirical cognitions. The philosopher would, “independently of all experience, seek out a concept of the age”, and “exhibit the mode in which this concept would reveal itself under the forms of the necessary phenomena of the age” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). This approach would succeed in “exhausting the circle of these phenomena”, and would be able to “bring them forth in necessary connection with each other through the common fundamental concept [Grundbegriff ] which lies at the bottom of them all” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). In other words, such an approach would guarantee the completeness and systematic unity of the multitude of historical cognitions by grounding them in a common principle. Such a move would enable the philosopher to not only establish the interconnection between apparently disparate phenomena, but also, more ambitiously, to “deduce and completely explain” this set of phenomena (GdgZ sw vii, 3). Such a deduction, furthermore, is to be carried out independently of experience: “if the philosopher must deduce from the unity of his presupposed principle all the possible phenomena of experience, it is obvious that in the fulfilment of this purpose he does not require the aid of experience”, even “paying no respect whatever to experience” (GdgZ sw vii, 5). In the case of a philosophy of history, the relevant set of phenomena to be deduced is the entire set of possible historical phenomena. This entails a description of what Fichte calls “time as a whole”, which in turn entails a deduc-

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

297

tion “all its possible epochs” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). Understanding time as a whole presupposes what Fichte here terms “a unitary concept [Einheitsbegriff ]” (GdgZ sw vii, 5). This is, namely, the concept of “a fore-ordered, although only gradually unfolding, accomplishment of time, in which each successive period is determined by the preceding” (GdgZ sw vii, 5). In common parlance, Fichte tells us, we may refer to this concept as a “world-plan”. We thus have two distinct levels. There is the set of phenomena of a given age, which are explained by the fundamental concept of that age. Additionally, there is the unified concept of the set of all the fundamental concepts of all possible ages, which (as we shall see) is deduced from the world-plan, that is, from the entire life of humankind: “The world-plan is the unitary concept of the entire life of man on earth [and] the chief epochs of this life are the unitary concepts of each particular age, from which again the phenomena of these ages are to be deduced” (GdgZ sw vii, 5). Fichte next reveals what the principle of the world-plan is: “the end [Zweck] of the life of mankind on earth is that in this life they may order all their relations with freedom according to reason” (GdgZ sw vii, 6). Like Kant’s plan of nature, Fichte’s world-plan is teleological in the sense that the historical development of humankind is guided by a particular end. As in Kant’s case, history is here also divided into two main epochs. According to Fichte, this division is an “immediate consequence” of the above principle, and appears to result from the application of the same reasoning that was applied to Kant’s plan of nature, which as we saw yielded an age of nature and an age of freedom. In the case of Fichte, these two “principal ages or epochs” are “the one in which the [human] race exists and lives without as yet having ordered its relations with freedom according to reason, and the other in which this voluntary and reasonable arrangement is brought about” (GdgZ sw vii, 7). Unlike Kant’s final end of humanity, the end posited by Fichte does not make reference to the natural predispositions under which rational capacities are capable of being developed, but refers instead to the relation between reason and freedom (I return to the full ramifications of this point once we have a more complete picture of Fichte’s framework). At the formal level, then, Fichte’s principle bears similarities to Kant’s in that it posits a teleological view of history as a whole based on the basis of an a priori plan for the development of humankind, as a result of which world history is divided into two epochs. Nevertheless, at this stage Fichte attempts to go further than Kant and does not remain at this two-stage chiliastic model: from his first principle Fichte will ultimately deduce a total of five distinct epochs. Before looking at this step, several clarifications of Fichte’s terms are here in order. Firstly, as is apparent from the above formulation, the operative level

298

reichl

is that of the race. By race is meant the human race as a whole or a particular manifestation of it in the form of a nation. Whether a given individual achieves or fails to achieve the free ordering of his or her life according to reason is for Fichte’s purposes insignificant: “we speak here only of the progressive life of the race, not of the individual, which last in all these discourses shall remain untouched” (GdgZ sw vii, 6). Thus the freedom cited in the principle pertains to the “collective consciousness of the race”, and manifests as “the proper and peculiar freedom of the race” (GdgZ sw vii, 7). Secondly, Fichte clarifies that reason refers to the “fundamental law” of the spiritual life of humankind, and is thus is a characteristic of the human race across every epoch. Without reason, as he puts it, a human race could not “maintain its existence for a single moment” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). However, as a result of this, it is apparently paradoxical that in the first epoch a race could arrange their relations according to reason but not do so freely, not least of all because rational activity is ostensibly opposed to the compulsion of nature. The relevant difference between the two epochs, however, lies not in reason’s presence or absence but instead in the way in which it manifests. In the first epoch reason does not appear as a manifestation of freedom but, instead, as “a law and power of nature [Naturgesetz und Naturkraft]” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). It is thus active in consciousness, but “without insight into the grounds of its activity” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). In other words, in the first epoch reason is not yet the expression of free will but acts as “blind instinct” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). What Fichte seems to mean is that, for example, while it is rational to form unions between the sexes for the purposes of reproduction, in the first age the race does not yet have insight into the rationality of this activity. This activity is instead the result of instinct, and so while such relation is in the first epoch ordered according to reason, it is not yet done so with freedom. Again, it should be kept in mind that it is irrelevant whether a given individual freely enters into a given union or not; what is important is the insight humanity as a whole has into its activity. These distinctions are crucial at a methodological level, because they allow Fichte to deduce several intermediary conditions between the two epochs. This in turn enables the derivation of several different ages, and thus represents a significant advance over Kant’s two-stage chiliastic model of history. From the above principle Fichte has thus far derived two epochs, each characterised by its own principle. These are the epoch of the dominion of “reason as blind instinct” and, opposed to the first, the epoch of “the dominion of reason through freedom” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). The characterisation of the first epoch in terms of the consciousness of reason without insight into its activity enables a closer characterisation of the second main epoch. If reason as instinct is blind, then freedom as the contrary (Gegensatz) of instinct is a “see-

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

299

ing” and has a “distinct consciousness of the grounds of its activity” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). Next, Fichte reasons that in order to move from the former stage to the latter, an intermediate condition is required, namely a consciousness with insight, or what he calls “consciousness or systematic knowledge [Wissenschaft] of reason” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). This intermediate condition then comes to serve as new principle that governs an epoch lying between the first and the final one. But, Fichte continues, the transition to the age of the knowledge of reason presupposes a further step, which is the liberation from the compulsion of instinct that dominates the first age. This represents the next condition that is deduced between the two previous ones: “thus between the dominion of reason as instinct and that of reason as knowledge, there is interposed a third condition, that of liberation from reason as instinct” (GdgZ sw vii, 8). This condition will represent the third age, which Fichte examines in a detailed manner in the rest of the lecture, and so I will return to a closer characterisation of this age in what follows. Furthermore, Fichte reasons, there is an unresolved question of how humanity is able to marshal the desire to liberate itself from the first age. This is because the principle of the first age, reason as blind instinct, represents the fundamental law of its existence, and so it is unclear how the race could strive to act in opposition to its own existence (GdgZ sw vii, 9). Because this transition cannot be “immediate”, it requires a further intermediate condition that could provide the required impulse toward liberation. According to Fichte, this intermediary condition arises when powerful individuals attempt to embody the relations resulting from reason as instinct and to impose these relations on the race. Such individuals strive to establish the expression of their instinct into “an external ruling authority” that is “upheld through outward constraint” (GdgZ sw vii, 9). However, the externalisation of instinct in a foreign authority awakens reason in the form of “the drive towards personal freedom” within the race (GdgZ sw vii, 9). Reason thus seeks to “break the chains”, not of the rule of reason as instinct as such, but of the domination of the instincts of foreign individuals. As a consequence, “the change of the individual instinct into a compulsive authority becomes the medium between the dominion of reason as instinct and the liberation from that dominion” (GdgZ sw vii, 9). The above condition thus becomes the principle of an independent age, governed by a rebelliousness against the external authority of the instinctual expressions of the most powerful members of the race. Finally, Fichte focuses on the deduction of an intermediary condition located before the final age, which was characterised as the age of “the dominion of reason through freedom”. Because mere knowledge of reason does not

300

reichl

suffice for this free ordering of life according to reason, another condition here is required to move from the former to the latter. Namely, for this final transition is required “a peculiar knowledge of action,” which can “only be thoroughly acquired by practice” (GdgZ sw vii, 9–10). This knowledge of action Fichte terms “art” (GdgZ sw vii, 10). Art, then, is the pragmatic knowledge and skills required to actualise free reason, or to put into practice the knowledge of reason acquired in the previous age. In other words, it is the “art of ordering the whole relations of mankind according to that reason which has been already consciously apprehended” (GdgZ sw vii, 10). Furthermore, this art is to be “universally applied to all the relations of mankind, and realized therein” until the race become “a perfect image of its everlasting archetype in reason” (GdgZ sw vii, 9–10). Only then is the final end, namely life according to reason through freedom, attained. Consequently, after the age of knowledge of reason follows the age of “reason as art”, which is dominated by the above task. From the first principle that results from the unitary concept of the worldplan, Fichte thus derives five conditional principles, each of which serves as the fundamental principle of a distinct age. The complete list of ages is as follows. First is “the epoch of the unlimited dominion of reason as instinct”, which Fichte indexes to the “state of innocence of the human race”. Second is the “epoch in which reason as instinct is changed into an external ruling authority” that demands “blind faith and unconditional obedience” of the race. Third is “the epoch of liberation, directly from the external ruling authority, indirectly from the power of reason as instinct, and generally from reason in any form.” This is characterised as “the age of absolute indifference towards all truth, and of entire and unrestrained licentiousness”, and for Fichte represents the present age. Fourth is the “epoch of reason as knowledge”, in which “truth is looked upon as the highest, and loved before all other things”. Last is “the epoch of reason as art”, in which “humanity with more sure and unerring hand builds itself up into a fitting image and representative of reason” (GdgZ sw vii, 10– 11). Here, furthermore, humankind comes full circle back to the first age, and freely recreates by the use of its own reason its initial condition. Using a biblical metaphor, Fichte states that humankind, having been expelled from the Garden of Eden, finally “builds a paradise for itself after the image of the one it had lost” (GdgZ sw vii, 11). We have thus seen how Fichte is able to derive a series of principles from the first principle of the world-plan. Each of these principles, in turn, serves as the fundamental concept of a given age. As mentioned, he also claims that all of the phenomena of a given age are derivable from its fundamental principle. In

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

301

what follows I take a brief look at this procedure, focussing on the third age, which Fichte identifies with the present age and which thus receives the most detailed treatment. Because the third age is characterised by the liberation from blind authority exercised by reason as instinct, the fundamental principle of the age is to “accept nothing as really existing or binding except that which can be understood and clearly comprehended” (GdgZ sw vii, 21). The tool of liberation is thus the understanding, and in place of the external authority exercised by individuals the age seeks to put its own understanding and its own experience. However, this understanding is not yet based on a knowledge of reason, which is a mark of the fourth age. Rather, the third age falls back on a fixed standard and an “already established common sense” which it employs as the measure of everything that is (GdgZ sw vii, 21). More specifically, then, the maxim of the age is: “whatever I do not understand by the concepts immediately at my disposal is nothing” (GdgZ sw vii, 21). The fourth age, on the contrary, comprehends not based on its own experience but through reason, or through “absolute concepts” (GdgZ sw vii, 21). The third age thus puts common sense, opinion, and personal experience in the place of the external authority of individuals, without yet accepting the authority of reason. The third age, then, overthrows reason as instinct but does not yet replace it with a new form of reason. It is in this sense that it attempts to free itself not only from reason as instinct but from reason in general. Because reason is collective, universal, and has as its object the life of the race rather than of the individual, in casting reason aside the third age is oriented toward the individual over the race. It is “governed by the impulse towards self-preservation and personal well-being” (GdgZ sw vii, 21). The fundamental principle of the third age cited above – that what I do not understand is nothing – can on this basis be determined further as: “I comprehend nothing whatever except that which pertains to my own personal existence and well-being; hence there is nothing more than this, and the whole world exists for nothing else than this, that I should be, and be happy” (GdgZ sw vii, 26). From this fundamental principle of “pure, naked egoism” (GdgZ sw vii, 25) Fichte can derive the basic phenomena of the age. Firstly, the kind of knowledge that best serves the individualism of the third age is that knowledge acquired through experience. Because humans, unlike animals, lack the instincts that would teach them how to best serve their personal well-being, and because reason has the well-being of the race rather than of the individual as its object, the third age can rely on neither of these means. Consequently, the means of the support and well-being of the personal life can only be discovered by experience, which thus becomes the primary source of knowledge

302

reichl

for the third age. As Fichte states, “it is experience alone from which this age derives its views of the world” (GdgZ sw vii, 27). In this manner, a thoroughgoing empiricism, along with a subsequent mistrust of a priori knowledge, is a phenomenon characteristic of the third age derivable from its fundamental principle. Fichte then proceeds to derive from the fundamental principle phenomena related to science, art, social relations, religion, or morality that characterize the age. It is not necessary to explore these further – the point to take away from the above is that Fichte derives the phenomena that appear in a given age from the fundamental principle of the age, which is in turn derived from the principle of the world-plan. As Fichte insists, he proceeds, as a philosopher, from the fundamental principle of the age, itself deduced from the principle of the world-plan, to “infer whatever may justly be inferred as to the form and phenomena of a life founded upon this principle” (GdgZ sw vii, 19). This procedure, as is stressed throughout, is wholly a priori and does not rely on experience – hence, as Fichte remarks, it will seem fantastical when presented to an audience which, as a representative of the third age, only accepts experience as the measure of all things.

iv The introduction of a first principle into the philosophy of history represents a shift with respect to its predecessors. Departing from Herder, and in line with Kant, this principle aims to set the philosophy of history on firmer scientific footing (we shall return to this point below). The resulting systematic form allows Fichte’s philosophy of history to be distinguished both from empirical history as well as from the speculative, poetic history of Herder, because it can now operate with apodictic proofs and derivations. As we saw, these derivations cover both the particular ages of human history, as well as the fundamental phenomena characteristic of each age. The apodictic nature of such derivations results from the a priori status of the fundamental principle underpinning history as a whole, the lack of which, as we saw, Kant considered to be among the main defects of Herder’s philosophy of history. Furthermore, unlike in the case of Kant, and similar to the case of Herder, Fichte provides a paradigm-based account that seeks to grasp the principles internal to a given historical age. As we saw, in the case of Kant’s principle, there was a danger that what Herder would consider the genuinely historical element would be lost with the introduction of an a priori principle. Though it is a priori, the dynamic nature of Fichte’s principle allows him to maintain an attenuated

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

303

version of Herder’s historical relativism. This is because the cognitive and axiological standards, as well as the phenomena they generate, are relative to the fundamental principle underpinning a particular age. Thus the third age operates within its own epistemic and axiological paradigm that is distinct to, for example, the previous age, all of which can be captured philosophically (that is, a priori) on Fichte’s model. Kant’s more static chiliastic principle makes the philosopher of history blind to these historical particularities. It is not the case that Kant would deny this form of historical pluralism, but that the universal nature of his first principle precludes these historical differences from being examined philosophically by relegating them to the a posteriori level. Fichte thus not only goes beyond Kant by providing a dynamic first principle that enables the sub-principles of various historical periods to be derived, but also claims to provide an a priori derivation of the phenomena characteristic of the period. For Kant, such a derivation is out of the question. Not only is the Kantian principle merely regulative with respect to the phenomena, but an a priori derivation threatens to convert history into mechanism. In the latter case, namely, if the succession of historical phenomena were necessary, then all contingency would seemingly to be eliminated. However, for Kant, the historical is characterised precisely in terms of the contingent, which is what separates it from mechanism but also prevents it from being subsumed under an a priori principle. As Kant puts the dilemma: “how is it possible to bring a history into a system of reason, which requires the contingent to be derived, and partitioned, from a principle?” (20:342). In short, the derivation of historical phenomena from a first principle would abolish precisely what makes them historical, i.e. their contingency.27 For Kant, history must for these reasons be approached through regulative rather than constitutive principles. Fichte, however, in providing an a priori derivation of historical phenomena indeed seems to be operating with constitutive principles. Namely, for such a derivation to function, the principle must constitute the phenomena that are derived. Fichte thus apparently improves upon Kant by introducing a stronger first principle. As Nuzzo writes, Fichte takes up Kant’s “transcendental ›guiding thread‹ or principle” but, unlike Kant, ascribes to it a “constitutive and not a merely regulative validity”.28 Picardi argues that this ascription of a constitutive status to the transcendental foun27

28

For an account of Kant’s attempt to resolve this dilemma in the sphere of the history of philosophy in particular, see Reichl, P. “Making History Philosophical: Kant, Maimon, and the Evolution of the Historiography of Philosophy in the Critical Period.” British Journal for the History of Philosophy 28.3 (2020): 463–482. Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 374.

304

reichl

dation of history not only is the “fundamental difference” between Kant and Fichte’s respective philosophies but also moves the latter beyond Kant and nearer to Hegel.29 Similarly, Nuzzo argues that Fichte’s introduction of a constitutive principle (among other things) into the philosophy of history make it a “crucial station in the process” that brings “post-Kantian reflection on history increasingly away from Kant and closer to Hegel”.30 As I have argued above, there is some truth to the claim that Fichte moves the philosophy of history beyond Kant. However, with the application of straightforwardly constitutive principles it would appear difficult for Fichte to disentangle history from nature, as both would appear to be equally deterministic. After all, as Picardi points out, Fichte wishes to avoid “confusing what is contingent and temporally conditioned with something eternal and necessary”.31 In order to see how Fichte deals with this issue, it is necessary to look at one final aspect of his philosophy of history, which in turn hints at the solution to a question related to his terminology, namely, why Fichte substitutes the label “world-plan” for Kant’s “plan of nature”. A history of the human race, on Fichte’s model, is not exhausted by the a priori level of the world-plan discussed above. Rather, such a history consists of two levels, one a priori and the other a posteriori. The a priori development of the human race that the world-plan maps out takes place “gradually, at different times, in different places, and under particular circumstances” (GdgZ sw vii, 138). However, Fichte continues, “these conditions do not by any means arise from the concept of the world-plan, but are unknown to it” (GdgZ sw vii, 138). In other words, while it is determined through a priori principles that the race develops according to the plan laid out, when and where such developments happen is an empirical question for the historian, one that the philosopher cannot answer. The task of the philosopher is to lay out the world-plan independently of experience, and then, “merely for illustration” (GdgZ sw vii, 138) and in the capacity of the empirical observer, point to the historical circumstances that may correspond to a given age. As a consequence of the above, Fichte states it is an entirely different question whether a given age is in fact “characterized by the phenomena that are deduced from the principle” of the world-plan (GdgZ sw vii, 4). The question of whether the present age corresponds to the third age, as Fichte hypothesises, cannot be proven philosophically. Instead, it is up to historians, or even the audience of the lecture, to decide whether in fact the present age maps 29 30 31

Picardi, “The ‘Guiding Thread’ of Universal History”, pp. 841–842. Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 374. Picardi, “The ›Guiding Thread‹ of Universal History”, p. 841.

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

305

onto the a priori framework of the third age. Hence, on this question “every man must consult for himself the experience of his life … for here the business of the philosopher is at an end, and that of the observer of the world and of men begins” (GdgZ sw vii, 4). As Radrizzani puts this point, any such historical judgements belong “not to the domain of exact science but to that of opinion.”32 Furthermore, principles from distinct a priori ages can coexist within one actual historical period: “different ages may, in perfect accordance with their spiritual principle, coexist in one and the same chronological time, and even cross or run parallel to each other in different individuals” (GdgZ sw vii, 12). As a consequence, the “application of the a priori principle to the present condition of the world and of humanity may not embrace all men alive in the present time, but only those who are truly products of the age and in whom it most completely reveals itself” (GdgZ sw vii, 12). Thus, individuals, and probably also collectives of individuals, though they may live under the dominion of the principle of one age, may yet be determined by principles from a previous or even a future age. In other words, one may be behind one’s age just as another may be ahead of their age. These two points, however, make it difficult to maintain a constitutive a priori status for the principles of the world-plan, at least for the purposes of historical cognition from a theoretical perspective. Specifically, it is difficult to see how the philosopher of history can subsume a given phenomenon under an a priori principle of an age if the applicability of that principle to the age cannot be determined a priori. An analogy with Kant’s epistemological framework from the first Critique will help bring out the nature of this difficulty. At first blush, the form of Fichte’s principles seems to correspond to the form of Kantian categories.33 The latter, namely, determine a priori the form that a given object necessarily takes, but whether this object exists or not cannot be determined a priori and is hence a question for experience. So for Fichte, the principle of an age would seem to determine the form the phenomena of that age take (be these in the sphere of morality, epistemology, or religion), but whether these phenomena actually exist, that is, whether the given historical period is actual or not, is a question for experience. Thus, for example, Fichte determines the a priori structure of the third age, and leaves it up to the experi32 33

Radrizzani, “The Wissenschaftslehre and Historical Engagement”, p. 232. As Aichele points out, the events in historical time are, “like Kant’s categories, objects of juridical deduction in the sense of the legitimation of the classification of them as belonging to a certain age, that is, their being subsumed under the concept of one age or another one”, Aichele, “Ending Individuality”, p. 250.

306

reichl

ences of the audience to determine whether the present age in fact corresponds to the a priori form of the third age. However, a problem here arises for Fichte that does not arise for Kant. Namely, the Kantian categories enjoy an a priori status because they are constitutive of every possible object that can be given in experience. In other words, any object that exists will necessarily correspond to the form of the categories of quantity and quality, for example. But this will not be the case for Fichte’s model, because not every phenomenon will correspond to the form of the third age, for example. Instead, as pointed out, it cannot be determined a priori to which age the form of a given set of phenomena will correspond. Paradoxically, then, for Fichte the determination of which a priori principles apply to a given phenomenon is only decidable a posteriori.34 In other words, the principles of Fichte’s philosophy of history seem to enjoy a sort of hypothetical necessity: if they apply to a given historical period, then they apply necessarily a priori and are thus constitutive of the phenomena of that age. However, because this conditional cannot be discharged at the a priori level, Fichte’s world-plan cannot deliver a set of principles that are constitutive of historical phenomena. As a result of the above, the Fichtean first principle of the philosophy of history and its associated sub-principles come to play a role similar to Kant’s regulative plan of nature. They can at best guide the historian in his empirical research in a heuristic manner, much like Fichte’s lecture on the a priori characteristics of the third age are to guide his audience in their understanding of the present age, without determining their judgements about it. For methodological purposes, then, the Fichtean principle does not imply that the historian can derive a given historical fact from an a priori principle, but only he can approach the body of historical cognitions as if it were to conform to a universal plan for history as a whole from a regulative perspective.35 Fichte’s paradoxical approach to the relation between the a priori and the a posteriori certainly lends his philosophy a distinctive character: as Nuzzo puts it, history becomes “the point of transition between absolute necessity and sheer contingency” and thus relates to “the problem of thinking the unthinkable”.36 Be that as it may,

34 35

36

In Nuzzo’s “paradoxical” formulation of this point, “in history the a priori does not precede the a posteriori but rather follows from it”, Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 388. Here I am in agreement with Radrizzani, who writes that if the philosopher is “concerned with conferring some usefulness on his science” he must turn to the empirical world; however, the moment he does this he is equally “forced to leave the transcendental level on which this science must remain”, Radrizzani, “The Wissenschaftslehre and Historical Engagement”, p. 231. Nuzzo, “Fichte’s Philosophy of History”, p. 390.

the role of first principles in fichte’s philosophy of history

307

it is difficult to see how such considerations could aid the scientific methodology of the historian. From this perspective, at least, Fichte’s conception of the science of history appears less innovative, and more straightforwardly Kantian. It is worth asking what kind of necessity then Fichte’s principles do have, if not the necessity that comes from constitutive theoretical principles a priori. Fichte seems to agree with Kant that history cannot be subsumed under a priori principles, for the reasons cited above. When Kant poses the question “how is a history a priori possible?”, he responds, tongue in cheek, that an a priori, and hence predictive history, is possible only when the historian “makes and contrives the events which he announces in advance” (aa 4:80). In support, Kant cites several of cases of self-fulfilling prophecies, when a given prediction becomes accurate not because it was based on a special theoretical insight but because at the practical level it serves as its own effect. An example is the politician who has a pessimistic view of the nature of the citizenry, and through his proclamations to this effect actually instils such a nature in the citizenry. Despite Kant’s irony, Fichte’s philosophy of history seems to employ precisely this approach. In the latter, it is up to the individual to practically carry out the principles of future age, thus necessitating the transition to a future one. This is the case, for example, of the philosopher of the present who embodies the principles of a future age (in this case Fichte himself), and through their divulgation to the public brings about a transition to that age. As James argues, Fichte’s lecture course “reflects the scholar’s duty to communicate to others the knowledge that he has with the aim of fulfilling his more general duty of helping to bring about human progress towards the end of reason”, where the end of reason is the attainment of final age in which freedom governs.37 On this account the Fichtean principles would have a practical necessity. An exploration of this issue would take me far beyond the scope of the present paper, given my focus is on historical cognition from a theoretical perspective, but we can see that Fichte can maintain a sort of constitutive status for the principles from a practical perspective (that is, constitutive of the will of free beings),38 while from a theoretical perspective (that is, with regard to the body of historical facts) these principles instead a play a regulative role similar to Kant’s. This

37

38

James, D. Fichte’s Republic: Idealism, History and Nationalism. Cambridge 2015, p. 91; For a similar claim, see Radrizzani, “The Wissenschaftslehre and Historical Engagement”, p. 224, and Ivaldo, M. “Zur Geschichtserkenntnis nach der Transzendentalphilosophie”, FichteStudien 6 (1994), p. 307 ff. Aichele argues that the attempt to provide a practical grounding for history represents a shift in Fichte’s position between the Characteristics of the Present Age and the Addresses to the German Nation: Aichele, “Ending Individuality”, p. 252. Though for potential problems with this view see James, Fichte’s Republic, pp. 108ff.

308

reichl

point does, however, account for a terminological shift with respect to Kant: it is no longer a “plan of nature” but a “world-plan” that is at stake, precisely because it is not nature that secretly develops mankind throughout history but world-historical individuals through their own freedom. In my view, then, Fichte’s primary innovation with respect to Kant’s philosophy of history does not come where one might have expected. It is not the case that the introduction of a first principle places the theoretical foundations of the philosophy of history on a surer footing. In relation to theoretical cognition and the scientific status of history, Fichte does not go beyond Kant’s regulative deployment of the a priori principles that structure history. This also means that Fichte differs from Hegel, at least from the version of Hegel who derives the phenomena of history from an a priori conceptual framework.39 Where Fichte does improve on Kant is with respect to the nature rather than to the status of the principle. Namely, Fichte’s dynamic first principle enables him to deduce a sequence of historical ages, each governed by a sub-principle. Fichte is thus able to combine Kant’s systematicity with Herder’s sensitivity to the relativity of historical ages by deriving sub-principles from the fundamental one. In this manner, we can say that, schematically, in the trajectory of the philosophy of history from Herder to Fichte, we move from Herder’s many principles, to Kant’s one principle to Fichte’s many principles in one. 39

For a summary and a criticism of this version of Hegel, see Sedgwick, S. “Remarks on History, Contingency, and Necessity in Hegel’s Logic.” In: R. Zuckert and J. Kreines (eds.) Hegel on Philosophy in History. Cambridge 2017, pp. 33–49.

15 Circumvolutions of the Mind: Fichte on First Principles and Transcendental Circuits Carlos Zorrilla Piña

Abstract Fichte once described the first principle of his philosophical system as a globe or attractor point which rests on nothing else but its own power, and which – as by the inception of a gravitational field – thereby simultaneously sets the conditions for the groundedness of all the components of the edifice of knowledge which follow. This description suggests his philosophical enterprise is articulated in accordance to the linear structure of foundationalism. At the same time, however, Fichte’s enterprise is unequivocally transparent regarding its many circularities, the most interesting of which is described by the relation between the I under philosophical observation and the I of the transcendental philosopher who undertakes the observation. Indeed, such a relation – which Fichte called not only a circle but a circuit – is what explains his assertion that the task of the transcendental philosopher is to be a pragmatic historiographer rather than a legislator of the mind. The philosopher’s task is historical insofar as the I who undertakes the examination is at every move trying to repeat its genesis in a conscious manner. It is circular, in turn, insofar as the activity of the examined I is supposed to culminate in precisely the point where the examining I stands, but not forgetting that it has to account for the possibility of the latter’s very examination. To map the horizon and grounding capacity of such circumvolutions of the mind is what this paper aims to do.

Keywords first principle – transcendental idealism – ground – circularity

1 Can the operations of a self-grounding ground and the overall structure of circularity both play a role in a systematic philosophical account? Fichte’s transcendental idealism invites us to think that they do. In his seminal meta-

© Carlos Zorrilla Piña, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_016

310

zorrilla piña

philosophical work Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre, he expressed his conviction that the condition for a unified system of the human mind is that there be one and only one absolute first principle [Grundsatz]. He further characterized this first principle as a globe or attractor point which rests on nothing else but its own power, and which – as by the inception of a gravitational field from whose sphere “not one speck of dust is allowed to be wrested away” – thereby simultaneously sets the conditions for the groundedness of all the components of the edifice of knowledge.1 Such a conviction would rightly suggest that Fichte’s philosophical enterprise is articulated in accordance to the linear structure of foundationalism, by which, incidentally, nothing else needs to be understood here save the conviction that the certainty of propositions within an epistemic edifice is transmitted from a basic self-grounding proposition to all the rest, either immediately or mediately. Thus, that scientific grounding does in fact occur, and occurs in a linear transitive manner rather than a coherentist, multidirectional one. Yet at the same time as it insists on the inception of an absolute grounding or attractor point, Fichte’s enterprise is also unequivocally transparent regarding its global circularity. Indeed, by his own admission – insistence even – the Wissenschaftslehre as a whole moves along a circular path: it sets out to map the confines of consciousness, without ever purporting to break out of them, until following its internal necessity it gets back to the point from whence it started, thereby proving its explanatory exhaustiveness and coherence.2 This circular path is moreover not without epicycles, since within the broader trajectory it is possible to identify multiple subsidiary circles, or localized ways of viewing the overarching one – whether that be in the derivation of the laws of logic, in the proof of the system’s unity, or in the interdependence between the theoretical and the practical. More intriguing, perhaps, and therefore an issue to which this paper will devote its attention, is the circularity described by the relation between the I under philosophical observation and the I of the transcendental philosopher who undertakes the observation. As I hope to show, Fichte’s fateful understanding of the transcendental as essentially the deployment of an auto-genetic process is encapsulated in the particularities of this circular relation. And such a relation is likewise what explains his famous assertion that the task of the transcendental philosopher is to be a ‘pragmatic historiographer’ rather than a legislator of the mind (bwl 1 bwl ga i/2, 126. All citations of Fichte’s works refer to J.G. Fichte-Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Hg. R. Lauth, H. Gliwitzky, u.a. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt. All translations are my own. 2 cf. bwl ga i/2, 130 ff.

circumvolutions of the mind

311

ga i/2, 147). For the I who undertakes the examination is ultimately trying to repeat the process of its own genesis in a conscious manner, without however, predetermining the progression of the self-developing I under observation. And the activity of the examined I is supposed to culminate in precisely the point where the examining I stands, but not forgetting that it has to account for the possibility of the latter’s very examination, as well as, more broadly, for the entirety of experience which this examiner has as its past and brings to bear on the whole observation, as a criterion or measuring rod for the adequacy and success of the overall explanation. Grounding and circularity thus both belong in the system, and must in a certain way complement one another. It is the departing assumption here that a reconsideration of Fichte’s understanding of the system’s first principle will cast a light on this relationship, and vice versa. For – to adopt his imagery – if the first principle is to be thought as a globe or gravitational center of a system rather than as a merely echoless point, then this is also only on the condition that we think about the broader orbits over which its grounding field holds sway and which first put its absolute certainty and self-groundedness to the service of a doctrine of knowledge: a Wissenschaftslehre.3 Schematically mapping the horizon and reasons behind such circumvolutions of the mind motivates this paper, whose task is accordingly twofold: First, to explore the way in which the harmonious interaction between circularity and grounding linearity plays a role in Fichte’s overall strategy for a systematic epistemology. Second, to suggest a perspective from which such a strategy may pay dividends when applied to the enactment of transcendental philosophy, this latter being understood as a possible – insofar as radically free – activity of the I. In pursuing these goals, the considerations offered will be deployed mostly on the level of Fichte’s general philosophical strategy, and only occasionally concerned with the procedure whereby that strategy is carried out. In this sense, they are best taken as what Fichte himself called “part of the critique of the Wissenschaftslehre”, that is: as a work “in which it is philosophized precisely about the philosophizing of the Wissenschaftslehre.” (bwl ga i/2, 159–160)

3 Under the figure of the so-called ‘Münchhausen-Trilemma’, Hans Albert famously laid the claim that all attempts at ultimate grounding would fatally lead to: 1) vicious circularity, or 2) infinite regress, or 3) the dogmatic interruption of grounding. Fichte’s pragmatic transcendentalism conversely suggests the dilemma can be eluded, but only by means of harmonizing foundationalism and circularity through the determination of an ethical demand. cf. Albert, Hans. Traktat über kritische Vernunft. (5. Ed). Tübingen. 1991. p. 15.

312

zorrilla piña

2 There is enough textual evidence in Über den Begriff der wl to license the view that Fichte eschewed any coherentist accounts concerning the bestowal of certainty within his system. A notable example reads: “… something can never be produced by a mere connection of parts which was not to be encountered in one of the parts of the whole. If not a single among the propositions which were connected together had certainty, then the whole which was produced by connecting these propositions together would not have certainty either.” (bwl ga i/2, 114) If there is to be certainty in the system, therefore, it will need to be traced back, mediately or immediately, to one single first principle, which must itself be self-grounding. Because this principle must be absolute and its certainty cannot be derivative, the principle is not subject to demonstration or proof, since these would amount to conditioning its certainty by an appeal to a higher basis, thus to going outside the principle in search for its ground. Rather than by extrinsic appeal, the self-certainty and self-grounding of the first principle must be given in an entirely intrinsic manner, by the absolute coincidence of its own form and content; that is, by an inextricable inseparability of what the proposition says and that of which it says it, such that what is being said – i.e. in Fichte’s somewhat particular usage: the form – is coeval and coextensive with that of which it is being said – ditto: the content–, and vice versa.4 Or in alternative terms: that the manner of putting forth a given claim is in itself the realization of what is being claimed. The proposition resulting from such a perfect inter-determination of form and content, would be self-certain insofar as the insight into its ground would remain fully contained within the purview of the proposition itself, without appeal to anything beyond it. And though of course this proposition will enter into systematic relations with other propositions – for in fact its very character qua principle, rather than as a merely isolated proposition of its own, is consequent to these relations – its certainty, however, must be antecedent to and independent of them. Fichte identifies such an intrinsic generation of certainty as the internal condition that the would-be first principle needs to fulfill if it is indeed to be eligible as candidate for standing at the helm of the system. A different question, however, is whether a given self-grounding proposition is such that it can in fact serve as the source for the certainty of all possible propositions in need of grounding, hence that a truly complete and unitary system of human knowl-

4 cf. bwl ga i/2, 121–122.

circumvolutions of the mind

313

edge can be built upon it. This second question would no longer be one of self-certainty, but rather of the extent to which such self-certainty could be transmitted so as to unify all other propositions under the common pull of one and one system alone. In Fichte’s words: “Should we discover a proposition that fulfills all the internal necessary conditions to be the first principle of all human knowledge, then we will inquire whether it also possesses all the external ones, i.e. whether everything that we know or believe to know lets itself be traced back to it.” (bwl ga i/2, 126) In this sense, once found as self-grounding and postulated as first principle, it is not so much the principle itself as rather whether it can yield the fruits asked of it that is at issue. And given the conviction that the task of philosophy is to “ground experience” (ErE ga i/4, 186), then this in turn means that the postulative character is resolved back into unquestioned certainty only by actually carrying out the procedure by means of which the entirety of experience is traced back to the self-operation of the principle. Accordingly, while the certainty of the first principle can be ascertained by an a priori or isolated consideration of the principle, the extensity of its explanatory breadth will be subject to verification by the actual systematic attempt to construct the epistemic edifice which it is supposed to ground, and so can never be established prior to the exercise by which experience is called upon to test its endlessly variegated configurations against the unity and determinacy of the first principle. Of these external conditions of the postulated first principle, upon which its viability as indeed first principle ultimately rests, it can thus be declared that its “possibility […] can be substantiated only by its actuality” (bwl ga i/2, 117), and so that “… it depends on the experiment.” (bwl ga i/2, 126) But again: that this is so points to a verification condition; it should not, however, be confused with a coherentist bestowal of certainty or as in any way undermining the conviction that the ultimate source of certainty is a determinate single principle at the basis and center of the system. In what follows, I submit that there is a kind of circularity – albeit in a different sense in each case – at both the level of the first principle and of the verification of its explanatory extensity as checked by the testimony of available experience.

3 Further light into why Fichte insisted on a foundationalism subject to verification by extensity-testing rather than a bestowal of certainty by coherency can be found by revisiting his definition of the task of philosophy as providing

314

zorrilla piña

the basis or ground for experience, which e.g. he offers in the 1797 Erste Einleitung in die Wissenschaftslehre.5 This amounts to explaining why at a given moment our representing power or consciousness is necessarily determined in a given way rather than another. Yet Fichte is well aware that under pain of logical fallacy the explanatory power of any explanation lies in the separation between explanans and explanandum. As he says, “The ground [viz. the basis or reason] lies, according to the very notion of a ground, outside of what it grounds or explains […] Now, philosophy has to display the basis or foundation of all experience. Its object therefore necessarily lies outside of all experience.” (ErE ga i/4, 187) A coherentist account of the generation and transmission of certainty would violate this tenet insofar as it would seek the basis for the determination of experience – its being this or that rather than something else at a given moment – not in something which is actually antecedently determinate to subsequent determinable experience but rather in the proliferation of its indeterminacy, only entangled in a certain manner or other. Thus, for Fichte a coherentist account would be guilty of the categorial error of trying to produce positivity by compounding negativity. Against such a conflation, Fichte crucially insists that the distinctness of explanans from explanandum must in fact not only be numerical, but also run parallel to a qualitative difference between determinacy and indeterminacy. “The task to seek a basis or reason for something contingent means: to exhibit something else, the determinacy of which explains why out of the multiple determinations that what is based upon it could have, it has precisely the ones that it does.” (ErE ga i/4, 187) In light of such a notion of grounding, and since what stands in need of explanation is the totality of the states of consciousness, insofar as these jointly constitute experience, one can understand why in the opening lines of the 1794 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre Fichte says of the first principle that it should express “… that Act [Thathandlung] which does not appear, and cannot appear, among the empirical determinations of our consciousness, but rather lies at the basis of all consciousness and alone makes it possible.” (gwl ga i/2, 255) Since, moreover, consciousness is in turn here understood by Fichte as a certain relation – namely: between a thinking subject and an object of thought – then this is the same as making the demand that in going from determinacy to determination of the determinable, the principle furnish for the first time the possibility for the relationality of such a subject and object. Or again: since consciousness of a given thing is possible only insofar as the thinking subject makes that thing the object of its thinking,

5 cf. ErE ga i/4, 186.

circumvolutions of the mind

315

then the question of the first principle asks for the type of superior determinacy that must be assumed prior to any determinate subject being able to empirically make anything whatsoever its object. It follows from the above, and this will be decisive in the ensuing considerations, that whatever circularity belongs to the overall epistemic account, it must in a certain way pertain already to that determinate ground upon which what is to be determined bases itself; and that while that circularity will also carry over to what is to become determined, it can only do so in a way which is not continuous and on the same level with the principle, but rather its iteration or isomorphic approximation on a different level.6 In other words: the circularity at issue cannot simply be one that seamlessly connects the first principle with the configurations of experience (for this would violate the determinacy requirement that Fichte identifies with the possibility of explanation), but must manifest as a determinate, self-enclosed circularity in the principle that somehow (more on this later) carries over as an isomorphic iteration into the determinable configurations of experience. As one may already intimate here, it is precisely qua link between that first circularity which plays the role of original determinacy and its iteration/approximation in what is to be thereby determined that the pull of a foundational linearity will hold. At this point, however, a more immediate question imposes itself: what could possibly play the role of the first principle? What could possibly satisfy both the demand for superior determinacy as well as that for the possibility of relationality between thinker and thought and do so simultaneously, in the unity of one unique principle? Fichte responds: “It is the ground of explanation of all the facts of empirical consciousness that prior to all postulation in the I, the I itself be posited …” And further: “… if the account of this Act [of positing] is thought at the helm of the Wissenschaftslehre, then it would have to be expressed somewhat as follows: the I originally posits its own being in an absolute manner” (gwl ga i/2, 258/261). With such assertions, Fichte is putting forth a candidate for first principle of which one can know a priori that it fulfills

6 In response to the Münchhausen-Trilemma, Nicholas Rescher argues that circularity in argumentation is not only unavoidable, but also not pernicious. Banking on the Aquinean/ Peircean distinction between a logica docens and a logica utens, Rescher claims that any systematizing process appeals to a pre-systematic normativity with which it must: 1) ultimately fall together and become identical; 2) integrate it as its part; or 3) evince itself as isomorphic with it. I argue that Fichte’s pragmatic transcendentalism is best read as an isomorphic approximation to a pre-systematic normativity given under the guise of self-determination. Cf. “Über Zirkularität und Regreß beim rationalen Geltungserweis.” In: Rescher, Nicholas: Rationalität, Wissenschaft und Praxis. Würzburg 2002, pp. 23–42.

316

zorrilla piña

what he had called the internal conditions and which may perhaps turn out to satisfy the external ones, though the latter is of course subject to a posteriori verification.

4 Let us now take a closer look at this absolute self-positing I, and do so first from the perspective of the demand for the first principle’s superior determinacy over that which it grounds. This demand can be restated thus: in what sense can the self-posited I, as ground of all that follows, be more determinate than each of the following moments of consciousness? Prima facie, it would seem that a unity which underwrites or encompasses a multiplicity must for the very reason of its encompassment be more general, hence abstract or less determinate than each one of the multiple instances that it encompasses. How then, does the I, qua first principle, retain its determinacy throughout and despite its pervasion of the entire system? Fichte’s response is that it can only do so if it is thought as pure activity rather than original being. For if the unity of the ‘absolute I’ were to be thought as a continuous subsistence the actual being of which is already at hand and simply suffered transformation from one moment to another, if it were to be thought, in other words, as the previously available matter which receives the form of the succeeding states of consciousness, it would inevitably acquire a passive character and hence would have to accept the intrusion of an agent the effect of which would be the source of its determinacy. Needless to say, in so doing, it would also be relinquishing any possibility to serve as the grounding element. Unless the absolute I is in a certain way the paragon of determinacy, then that which is to be grounded – the actual objectifying experiences of the conscious subject – could not be determinate, given that it is ex hypothesi impossible for something indeterminate to be the ground of something determinate. In the words of Fichte: “Idealism explains […] the determinations of consciousness through the activity of the intelligence. The latter is for it only absolute and active, not passive […] For the same reason no real being, no subsistence, pertains to the intelligence.” (ErE ga i/4, 199–200) Rather than pre-given existence, the I must be pure acting, and this “acting of the intelligence which is laid as the ground of determinate representations must be a determinate acting and, since the intelligence itself is the ultimate ground of all explanation, this must be an acting which is determined by the intelligence itself and its essence, not by something external.” (ErE ga i/4, 200)

circumvolutions of the mind

317

Fichte submits that the determinacy that is employed by transcendental idealism as the explanatory principle that grounds the totality of experience must be one predicated of acting rather than of an existence. But what does it mean for an acting to be determinate? While the self-sameness requisite for the determinacy of a substance is given as the constancy of its amenability to the directives of an extraneously imprinted configuration, what is requisite for the determinacy of acting is a constancy of an altogether different kind. Such a determinacy of acting manifests itself rather as the regularity of a selfenclosed mode of acting, that is: as a self-given rule-boundedness which the acting in question displays in obedience to its own nature, but never as an extrinsic imposition or received directive. Thus, rather than being given substantially as the mere continuity of a stuff that undergoes change, the mortar which gives the Wissenschaftslehre its unity is to be given nomologically, as a constancy of law; or what is the same: as the act of self-legislation of the I. To say that the absolutely self-positing I is the ground of all subsequent states of consciousness is thus in this sense nothing else than to claim that it underwrites all subsequent configurations of consciousness as the standard or endpoint of a nomological approximation, and hence that those configurations receive from said standard their determination in the form of a demand for compliance, or as the compulsion to match its mode of acting. What is determinate, in other words, is the imperative; and what is thereby determined are all instances in and through which the imperative is kept, or at least thoroughly approximated. Since, moreover, as Fichte claims “the form of the whole is nothing other than the form of the individual propositions conceived as one, [and since] what holds for each individual proposition must hold for all of them conceived as one” (bwl ga i/2, 123), then the approximation will occur in a holistic manner, throughout the progression of the system in its entirety. No single proposition or configuration of consciousness exhausts the demand, but the demand governs over all of them as a whole and in fact makes possible the transition and logic of progression from one proposition to the next. For when one proposition has exhausted its possibilities to advance the approximation or compliance that is demanded by the first principle, then it will simply give way to another which can, as part of the same whole, take over the efforts where its predecessor left off, thereby animating or fueling the system – and so too experience – forward. Indeed, a complete transcendental idealism proceeds by “show[ing] that what is postulated as the first principle is not possibly accounted for immediately within consciousness unless something else occurs as well, and that this second thing is not possible apart from the occurrence of a third thing …” (ErE ga i/4, 206) and so on…

318

zorrilla piña

Fichte’s novel suggestion at this point is thus that the progression of an acting that is determined by the legality of its own nature offers a determinacy that can be appealed to as the explanatory ground of the entire system of successive configurations of experience, which accordingly are revealed both individually and in their conjunction as the efforts or striving to adhere to a self-given law. For this reason, Ulrich Schwabe stresses that Fichtean determination of thought-content manifests as both a ‘free’ and a ‘freedom-preserving’ one precisely because it occurs by means of the synthesis of a self-directed demand and the recognition thereof.7 That is of course also why Fichte ultimately says that the system’s necessity is one that is bred out of freedom: for it occurs in accordance with the nature of the I giving itself its own nomos, i.e. as autonomous or self-determined. And it is also why the primacy of the practical is deeply rooted in his system, since his characterization of determinacy as a nomological constancy of activity means that the way the pull of grounding is transmitted is by an ethical demand, or a task that needs discharging. Grounding proceeds not from and through a datum, but is received from and through a desideratum, which both opens and maintains a milieu of action in which the entire system always remains, since both – system and milieu of action – are in fact one and the same thing. As Fichte asserts: “only through the medium of the ethical law do I behold myself ; and to the extent that I behold myself through this medium, I necessarily do so as active.” (ErE ga i/4, 219) In this vein, Isabelle Thomas-Fogiel correctly draws attention to the performative dimension that necessarily accompanies the practical preeminence of Fichte’s system by reminding that its point of departure is not a fact [Thatsache] but an act [Thathandlung] which is given as a ‘redoublement’ or self-referential operation, meaning that the first principle “… is a task to be accomplished and not a psychological given or fact. The most immediately characteristic trait of the Wissenschaftslehre is that it does not define itself as the description of an X but rather as a construction of itself.”8

5 Having established that determinacy and unity are to be bestowed by the first principle in a holistically nomological manner, and that the Wissenschaftslehre 7 Cf. Schwabe, Ulrich: Individuelles und Transindividuelles Ich: Die Selbstindividuation reiner Subjektivität und Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre, Paderborn 2007, pp. 161–164. 8 Thomas-Fogiel, Isabelle. “Fichte et l’ actuelle querelle des arguments transcendantaux.” In: Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale 4 (2003), p. 507. (My translation).

circumvolutions of the mind

319

advances time and again from conditioned thing to condition so as to discharge the task of upholding the mode of enactment of the first principle, it is now necessary to show that the ethico-systematic demand to be self-determined activity is in fact none other than the demand to uphold the constitutive circularity of the I by means of which it remains self-contained, self-reverting activity that can distribute subjectivity and objectivity in such a manner as to make consciousness and all its subsequent determinations possible. The I posits itself absolutely. This act produces “… no consciousness, not even self-consciousness. […] The I is by this described act merely put into a position in which self-consciousness – and with it all other consciousness – becomes possible. But thus far no actual consciousness has arisen.” (ErE ga i/4, 214) The reason why Fichte insists on this epistemic-ontological belatedness of objectifying consciousness is evident, among others, in the Versuch einer neuen Darstellung der Wissenschaftslehre. In that text Fichte works out in detail why, under pain of infinite recursion, consciousness of anything – even of oneself – cannot be explained via an objectifying act of thinking if not always logically preceded by the absolute positing of what he there calls an immediate I that is not “a mere subject [but] should be considered as a subject-object.” (VnD ga i/4, 277)9 Indeed, purely reflective accounts of self-consciousness – that is: accounts in which self-consciousness is explained as emerging out of the process whereby a pre-existing subject makes itself into its object or content in a subsequent moment of its existence – must of necessity fail to ground their own possibility for no other reason than because all acts of thinking can regardless of their content become the object of a new act of thinking, a fact which once applied to the reflective account itself, generates the need for a new subject that according to the assumptions of the reflective explanation will perpetually be located on the outside of the purported self-contained account. In other words, because all theorizing is subject to meta-theory, and this in a recursive manner, a reflective account of consciousness is vulnerable to the objection that its modus operandi fatally entails the proliferation of its explananda beyond the extensity of its explanans, engendering an infinitely regressive series that a priori undermines any final explanation or grounding. This realization, and along with it the entailed insufficiency of all reflective accounts, famously constitutes Fichtes ursprüngliche Einsicht, according to Dieter Henrich’s eponymous classical paper. In his words: “The possibility of reflection must be understood on 9 Cf. the footnote added to the second edition of the Grundlage (1802): “I is the necessary identity of subject and object: subject-object; and this is absolutely without further mediation.” (gwl ga i/2: 261)

320

zorrilla piña

the basis of th[e] primordial essence of the I. […] A gap, perhaps even an abyss, opens up between the ‘I’ and what makes the I intelligible. From now on, philosophy’s task is to traverse this gap.”10 But if absolutely posited I-hood is for these reasons not immediately equivalent to reflecting-consciousness, if it is only the basis or scaffold on which such consciousness may take root, then what is it, proper? The absolutely posited I is nothing other than “an acting towards acting itself”, hence “self-reverting acting [in sich zurückgehendes Handeln].” (ErE ga i/4, 213/216) It is activity the terminus of which is itself, or still: activity that is active only because and insofar as the terminus of its acting is its own action. This is the I, qua act, …and nothing more. As mentioned earlier, a key tenet of Fichte’s philosophy is that in terms of the I-hood of the I there is no underlying basis or subsistence, no prior something that exists and from which the activity is deployed, supported as it takes place, and received as it nears its exhaustion. With the distinction between absolute I-hood and empirical consciousness we are thus brought directly to ponder what in the Zweite Einleitung Fichte refers to as “the very essence of transcendental idealism”, namely that: “the concept of being is by no means conceived to be primary and original, but purely as a derivative concept, indeed as one derived by opposition to activity.” (ZwE ga i/4, 251– 252) Of course, the spirit of making ‘being’ a derivative concept is crucially not to discard it from the system altogether, but rather to embed it in the overall efforts aimed towards articulating a unified foundationalist grounding which is centered on the postulated self-positing of the I. This means that it is aimed towards rethinking being neither as the prior condition nor as the target of I-hood, but rather as nothing more than an inherent and coextensive manifestation of its full operation. If this is however so, then as will soon be seen, being is constitutively spread out over a certain identitary duality that is intrinsic to all unity. In the Grundlage, Fichte claims that to think of the I as absolute is to think of it as giving itself its own measure of being, and that this in turn is equivalent to saying that the I is “at once the agent and the product of the action, the active and that which is brought about by the activity; action and deed are one and the same.” (gwl ga i/2, 259) I read this as saying that I-hood consists in a circular generation of critical mass such that, on condition that the flow of activity back to itself is not cut off, then that activity acquires its own type of subsistence for itself… and only for itself. No subsistence or being ever super-

10

Henrich, Dieter. “Fichte’s Original Insight.” In: Contemporary German Philosophy 1 (1982), pp. 22–23.

circumvolutions of the mind

321

venes extraneously upon the I, but rather is generated as a result of the absolute self-positing of that I, and thenceforth obtains exclusively for that I. Hence the claim: “Whatever is ever to occur in it, the I can develop it purely out of itself without ever emerging from itself or breaking out of its own circle, as must necessarily be, if the I is to be an I.” (gwl ga i/2, 419) With this circular flow or generation of a subsistence that is inherently for itself, subject and object are at once, in an absolutely unitary manner, deployed as aspects or apsides of the self-reversion of activity. All being, in other words, is a being-for, and hence an originally constitutive unity to which belongs the inherent characteristic that it self-differentiates into subjectivity and objectivity, but only under condition that their coeval character be observed. What is crucial here is thus that it is consequent to the originary inception of the I as activity that circles back to itself that subject and object – or the real and the ideal – can take place and be ascertained in their specific characters. And it is only because and to the extent that they can thus be ascertained in their respective characters that empirical (self-)consciousness subsequently becomes possible in the first place. It is in this sense that Zöller calls the self-reverting activity of the absolute I only the “closest transcendental ancestor” of self-consciousness.11 Subjectivity and objectivity thus manifest as two aspects of absolute I-hood, rather than as sequential stages for the construction of the I. I-hood must therefore be cast not as the progression from one atomic moment to another but rather as the inception of a unitary upsurge of a space which distributes duality along a border that is internal and in fact constitutive of unity rather than a contravention to it. Accordingly, Fichte warns: “The nature of the intelligence consists precisely in this immediate unity of being and seeing. What is in it, and what it itself is, is for itself […] An intelligence will not be obtained unless you think of it as something primary and absolute.” (ErE ga i/4, 196–197) Fichte is banking on the fact that, by its very nature, the reality of the I is inextricably tied to its ideality, in that both are equally immediate and inseparable consequences of its spontaneous occurrence. Spontaneous, in this sense, meaning that its occurrence qua I is not in need of being derived through an appeal to prior stages, hence that it is absolute, in the quite literal sense of being absolved from, or free from a debt – ontological or of any other kind – to anything but its own enactment.

11

Zöller, Günter. “From Transcendental Philosophy to Wissenschaftslehre: Fichte’s Modification of Kant’s Idealism.” In: European Journal of Philosophy 15 (2007, 2), p. 253.

322

zorrilla piña

6 There is however, a crucial point that complicates matters. For Fichte, it is implicit in the absoluteness of the self-positing I that it be an infinite and pure self-reversion of activity, that is: an activity whose self-reversion is in no way or measure limited or arrested, an activity that simply goes back to itself. Consciousness of anything, however, can only occur insofar precisely as the activity of the I is limited in a certain, specific way; that is: insofar as it is made to take a certain determinate configuration prompted by an ob-ject or a hem on its activity. “Infinite is therefore the I insofar as its activity reverts back to itself. [… yet …] The I is finite insofar as its activity is objective.” (gwl ga i/2, 393) In an important sense, therefore, the absolute I and the empirical, selfconscious I are not just distinct, but they are at odds with one another. And yet the activities of both the infinite self-reversion and of the objectifying reflection must be one and the same, insofar as they belong to one and the same I. This is to say that the scaffold antecedently needed in order to explain objectifying consciousness – the one given in virtue of the absolute positing of the I qua self-reverting activity that distributes subjectivity and objectivity as apsides of an identity – is both the basis on which the explanation of the occurrence and progressive configurations of self-consciousness can take place, as well as something that stands at odds with it and so complicates its explanation. The complication would appear to be an acute one. More so, indeed, because not only does absolute I-hood consists in an infinite circular self-reversion of activity, whereas self-consciousness would seem to ultimately result from a limitation or at least a momentary interruption of that self-reversion; on top of this, as Fichte repeatedly holds,12 one cannot derive the I as intelligent consciousness from the absolute I, since there is quite simply no necessary reason that would lead the absolute I to disturb its own self-identity for the sake of consciousness. To be clear: this means therefore, that one cannot simply derive the system of experience from its postulated first principle. And yet – as Fichte maintains – one does not need to derive it; one needs to ground it, that is: to explain it. All need for explanation, however, originates and is discharged not from the prior scaffold which precedes self-consciousness, but rather from the standpoint of an accomplished self-consciousness. It unavoidably departs from the fact that there is self-consciousness, and tries to recover its genetic conditions by means of postulating a first principle with a view to which – if not as a necessary consequence of which – the already given fact of self-consciousness may be systematically grounded. 12

Cf. e.g. gwl ga i/2, 390, 400, 408.

323

circumvolutions of the mind

In this way, it is Fichte’s suggestion that this discrepancy between the I as absolute and the I as actual consciousness need not be something that breaks the system asunder but can rather constitute the very means of its systematic connection and groundedness. Indeed, here for the first time it is fully revealed why Fichte makes the grounding function of the first principle one dependent on nomological approximation rather than logical entailment: while the structure of the conscious I can never be one of perfect self-reversion insofar as the object constitutes an obstacle to its full exhaustion of the infinite, it ought, however, to approximate such a structure as thoroughly as it possibly can by the sequential pursuit of the ethical ideal of self-determination, understood as the full “conformity of the object with the I.” (gwl ga i/2, 396) This isomorphic pursuit is embodied in the laws that govern the sequence of the representations that make up experience, and which constantly prompt a new configuration of consciousness once any given one has exhausted the role it plays in bringing about such demanded approximation. The requisite infinitude implicit in the absoluteness of the I can therefore only be approximated throughout the entire series of configurations of consciousness in sequences, and even then only imperfectly, but it ought to be approximated nonetheless. Ultimately, this means that, as an I, each person is practically called to the resolution of the contradiction of himself as an infinity which is nonetheless referred to an object. This tension – this task born out of a contradiction – is itself the mark of a finite intelligence.13 According to Fichte, the foregoing is akin to imagining, merely for illustrative purposes, that the I’s activity has an inherent duality in regard to its direction, on the one hand being centripetal, and on the other centrifugal. The consideration of this proposed illustration may go a long way in showing how Fichte’s overall meta-philosophical strategy of combining circularity with grounding carries over to his actual philosophical procedure, and so is relevant to the current examination.14

∵ That the I posits itself absolutely means that it posits itself as an activity that is self-reverting. The direction thereof is purely centripetal in the sense that it purely goes towards itself or towards the center; hence activity whose direction is to go to that activity which it itself is. But the concept of direction is a

13 14

Cf. gwl ga i/2, 399–410. For what follows, cf. gwl ga i/2, 406 ff.

324

zorrilla piña

purely reciprocal one, meaning the notion of only one direction is nonsensical: by necessity a direction entails its opposite as a possibility. Consequently, the activity of the I can only be thought of as having a centripetal direction on condition that the possibility of the centrifugal direction of the same activity also be given. And this is very much in keeping with what pertains essentially to the very notion of an I, inasmuch as it likewise makes no sense that an I could be without fulfilling two different (and in a sense reciprocal) demands: first, admitting of nothing whose being is not ascribable to its own activity, i.e. of nothing that may contravene its aspiration to exhaust all reality; and second, necessarily having a principle of reflection and consciousness within itself, i.e. positing itself for itself as posited by itself – for which latter, however, an objective resistance is required. From the very beginning, then, the I has a dual aspect, accurately expressed by the image of it as having two directions of its activity: centripetal, insofar as it is that which goes back to itself; and centrifugal, insofar as to be conscious of itself it must posit itself as being not merely self-identical, but opposed to an object. To be noted, too, is the fact that the I’s activity is not only centrifugal, but centrifugal unto infinity; and this for no other reason than the fact that while the object must resist the I, the I’s striving for absoluteness pushes that object infinitely away, without however being able to abolish it. Now, both directions are grounded in the nature of the I and in rigor are one and the same. This means the I can be reflective only by being itself what is reflected upon; and can only be itself what is being reflected upon on condition that there is a circular flow of its outgoing activity. To make the centripetal direction – or the aspect in accordance to which the I is self-reverted – one and the same with an infinitely centrifugal direction – or with the aspect in accordance to which the self is what is reflected upon – amounts to expanding the field of operation falling under the course of that self-reversion so that there be nothing that is left outside. It means, in other words, to expand the span traveled in carrying out that self-reversion – which ex hypothesi would otherwise have had no reason for being other than equal to zero–, and to expand it infinitely, or at least with a striving unto infinity. Thereby, that span is for the first time recognized as what it is: the radius determining the circumference of that reversion. The I’s structure in consequence ceases to appear as a simple point – in fact: it reveals to have ever only appeared as such because it was an infinitely compact circle – and enters into its own as a circular movement: a flow from itself to itself. Only now does it become clear that the demanded self-reversion – that flow from itself to itself – is complicated by an infinitely intervening distance between the point of egress and that of reflection back to the egress. And with that, the field encompassed by

circumvolutions of the mind

325

its circumvolution in the necessary compliance of its self-reversion grows ad infinitum: i.e. it grows to the exclusion of any possible thing outside itself. To sum it up: the centripetal tendency, the demand that the I’s activity has nothing but itself as its point of arrival, is not cut off; but it is infinitely distended due to the infinitesimal operation in its midst of an activity whose very effect is the creation of intervening distance. This amounts to nothing less than the creation of a world, for in the span of that intervening distance, under the determinable possibilities granted by that ideal object that is infinitely pushed away, every possible configuration of consciousness will in principle orderly find its place. And in so doing, every possible configuration will in principle be grounded in virtue of being determined by the superior determinacy of the demand that it is trying to comply with: the asymptotic pursuit of the full dissolution of that object into full compliance with the I’s law. Supposing for a moment that what was just established in principle turns out to actually be the case, we would then finally arrive at Fichte’s long promised inception of an attractor point that generates a gravitational field which orders every possible point of reality in accordance to its pull and from which not a speck of dust can be wrested away. If we now go back to the questions with which Fichte had tasked ‘the science of science as such’ in Über den Begriff – namely: “How can the certainty of the first principle be grounded, and how can the warrant for somehow deriving the certainty of other propositions from that principle be grounded?” (bwl ga i/2, 116) – the centripetal direction would correspond to the attempt to answer the first, whereas the centrifugal would be what covers the second.

7 To recap what has been established thus far: in virtue of the centripetal interdetermination of its form and content, the absolutely self-positing I fulfills the internal conditions of the first principle. In virtue of its infinitely centrifugal determinability of objectifying states of consciousness, it may also satisfy the external ones. Yet it is one thing to establish in principle the systematic structure whereby the certainty of the first principle may be transmitted to the whole of human experience; but it is a very different matter to engage in the procedure that shows that this transmission actually takes place. The actual fulfillment of the external conditions must not only abstractly be located at the level of the centrifugal or conscious activity of the I; in addition, a deliberate carrying out of a rigorous productive series whereby it is shown that and how all possible determinations of consciousness are indeed amenable to being recast as attempts

326

zorrilla piña

to comply with the nomological pull of the postulated first principle must take place. Put shortly: in order to establish whether the postulated first principle in fact suffices to give an exhaustive explanation of the variegated determinations of consciousness, the actual, consciously deployed, exercise of philosophy is needed. According to the Zweite Einleitung, the I of the philosopher must conduct an experiment whereby he apprehends the vitality or actual life of the postulated I under observation. In so doing, and without thereby dictating or interfering with the series of acts generated by the observed I, the philosopher tests the capacity of the postulated principle to produce the entire system of experience.15 This verification by extensity is possible only in virtue of the role played by the philosopher, who in effect becomes the criterion for the exhaustiveness of the animated construction which on the basis of the postulated first principle is being theoretically unfolded. “For the philosopher, the system of experience as a whole is already present as a mere fact; that system must now be brought forth by the I before the eyes of the philosopher.” (ZwE ga i/4, 213) I will not go in detail into the actual procedure whereby Fichte exhibits this production. Suffice it to say, to reach its goal, it must verify two things. First, that by acting in accordance with its own laws the I thereby constructs a world which is no longer merely abstract objectivity, but, so far as its lawful constitution goes (if not its facticity), the actually experienced content of consciousness. To do so, starting from the factual standpoint of an already accomplished consciousness, the original self-reverting activity is theorized as complicating itself, problematizing itself in its circular journey to its goal in such a way that it progresses in complexity to the point where, with the aid of the connection furnished by nomological grounding, it can derive out of its very own “determinate modes of acting” the totality of experience and world (ErE ga i/4, 200). Second, it must verify that the determinate modes of acting by which the I produces that world, “can be explained by referring to a single fundamental law”, to wit: “the law of self-sufficiency (practical legislation)” (ErE ga i/4, 201/212). This, however, entails that the verification procedure can never be fully elucidated precisely because its possibility and necessity are not preponderantly theoretical but rather practical, thus something to which we ought to infinitely approximate but cannot definitively obtain. More than in braving this asymptotic bridging of the abyss, I am interested in the following consideration. Let us for the sake of argument take it for granted, not in the sense of taking it as something actually completed – which is by its

15

cf. ZwE ga i/4, 209–210.

327

circumvolutions of the mind

very nature impossible – but in the sense of accepting and responding to the orientation of its demand. This consideration will allow us to grasp with full clarity the motivation and reach of Fichte’s recasting of the transcendental as a historical or genetic account where grounding and circularity work together.

∵ Philosophy is a free activity; an activity that need not be undertaken, but can be. If it is undertaken, however, the determinations of consciousness of which it consists must inevitably themselves become part of the possible determinations of that consciousness which it set out to thematize. The insight at play here is thus that philosophy is always a localized event, in the sense that it has a locale: if it occurs, it necessarily occurs rooted in the consciousness of an actual philosopher rather than as a detached discourse which could look at its object with a perfectly aseptic gaze. When philosophy takes place, its enactment cannot but change the object it looks at through the very act of looking at it; and this for no other reason than because philosophy itself must proceed as an additional production of the object intended for thematization in the first place. Hence, for philosophy not to become a destabilizer of the very explanatory principles it seeks to establish for its object of study, it needs to conform to those very principles in and throughout the very exercise through which it first establishes them. The philosopher’s I summons the observed I to self-construct itself before its theoretical gaze. What happens with the series of the philosopher’s mental acts that are generated by the very exercise of witnessing this construction of the observed I? Do they not, too, become part of the stock of experience? Does philosophy, once enacted, not deepen the well of possible configurations of accomplished consciousness? And if so, how can philosophy avoid becoming an instance analogous to that of the reflective account of consciousness, an account which vitiated the very possibility of the groundedness of the things it set out to explain because it engendered a structure that despite its best intentions retrojected explananda beyond the reach of any ultimate explanans? If in the process of giving an explanation more objects which themselves stand in need of grounding are generated than can be explained, then no ultimate foundationalist all-grounding ground would be possible simply because an infinity of specks of dust would be posited outside of its gravitational field by the very procedure by which the reach of that field was constituted. Unless of course, the very activity of doing philosophy were itself nothing but one more orbit of that gravitational field: an iteration under its nomological pull, so that even the eventual free enactment of philosophy could itself operate within the purview

328

zorrilla piña

of the grounding first-principle. To be that, however, philosophy would need to approximate the form of a self-reverting activity, in the sense that it would need to open itself to the possibility of obtaining its certainty, qua discourse, by way of being part of a whole the mode of being of which seeks to uphold that of the postulated first principle.16 Can this be possible? This is the point where transcendental circuits finally enter the picture. By such circuits, what I mean is the type of circularity whereby the I that is thematized by philosophy is in turn made into the condition of possibility of that very philosophical thematization, thereby reinscribing the exercise of philosophy into the structure of an activity whose direction aims at a return into itself. Such a new iteration of circularity plays the role of safeguard that enables the philosopher to test the postulated first principle against his own experience without, however, through the very action of conducting the test, contravening the exhaustive extensity of the validity of the first principle on the basis of which it purports to erect its explanation. For in this way the relation between the observed I and the observing I ceases to be just that of being on opposite sides of a theorizing or gaze in which, as in the objectifying reflective model of consciousness, the source of the gaze always predates the object of its gaze. That is why Fichte asks: “How is this act [of self-reverting activity] related to the philosopher as such?” And, delivering on his promise that the transcendental philosopher would be a historiographer of the human mind, he responds that: “This self-constructing I is no other than the philosopher’s own. […] The philosopher only makes clear to himself what he actually thinks, and always has thought, if he thinks of himself.” (ErE ga i/4, 214) In other words, since the series of mental acts of the observed I is considered as exhibiting the process through which the philosopher’s conscious I came about in the first place, we always come to the Wissenschaftslehre from the optic of a retrospection or recollection. As mentioned already, Fichte’s attestation of the fact that the system runs in a circle does not merely take the form of an admission, but rather of an insistence. According to what I am suggesting, whatever other reasons there may be for this, a further one responds to the fact that what is at stake is the very legitimacy of philosophy as a grounded discourse. Making philosophy into a genetic account of the empirical I guarantees that philosophy as a whole is brought within the remit of the grounding self-operation of the first principle, insofar as despite its engrossment of 16

Although in admittedly different terms – those of the legitimation of its interest – Schwabe has also recognized the recurrence of the same structural problem in the deployment of philosophy and in the search for the final ground of experience. Cf. Schwabe, Individuelles und Transindividuelles Ich, pp. 168–170.

circumvolutions of the mind

329

experience it too adopts the form of an activity whose direction releases it back upon itself. That Fichte goes to great lengths to prove that the circularity which enables this holds true, despite appearances to the contrary, should in this light cease to be surprising.17 By upholding that circuit or broadest of the orbits of the first principle’s attraction, philosophy gains a pragmatic congruence between what it says and what it does, the uptake of which is that it becomes capable of legitimately discharging the tasks with which it had been entrusted and thus of allowing the human being to enter into his own as a genuinely free being.18 To leave off with Fichte: “If even just one person is fully and constantly convinced of his philosophy, if through it he is fully at one with himself, if his free philosophizing judgement and what life forces upon him are in full accord, then in this one person philosophy has reached its goal and completed its circuit [Umkreis]; for it has deposed him at the precise point from which he, and along with him all humanity, set out.” (ZwE ga i/4, 263)

Bibliography Albert, Hans. Traktat über kritische Vernunft. (5. Ed). Tübingen. 1991. Henrich, Dieter. “Fichte’s Original Insight.” In: Christensen, D. (Ed.) – Lachterman, D. (Tr.): Contemporary German Philosophy 1. University Park 1982, pp. 15–53. Ivaldo, Marco. “„Ein neuer Sinn zu entwickeln“: Fichtes letzes Vermächtnis.” In: FichteStudien 45 (2018, 1), pp. 92–109. Rescher, Nicholas “Über Zirkularität und Regreß beim rationalen Geltungserweis.” In: Rescher, Nicholas: Rationalität, Wissenschaft und Praxis. Würzburg 2002, pp. 23–42. Schwabe, Ulrich. Individuelles und Transindividuelles Ich: Die Selbstindividuation reiner Subjektivität und Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre. Mit einem durchlaufendem Kommentar zur Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo. Paderborn 2007.

17

18

cf. e.g. bwl ga i/2, 420: “Everyone who undertakes the present investigation with us is himself an I, which therefore has long since gone through the acts here deduced, hence long since posited a Not-I (of which he is to be convinced by the present investigation that it is his own product). He has necessarily already completed the whole enterprise of reason, and now freely determines himself to once again go through the calculation, to inspect the path that he himself once took in the person of another I, whom he makes the subject of his experiment and voluntarily posits at the point from which he himself once started. The examined I will itself arrive at the point at which the observer now stands; there they will be united, and by this union the circuit [Kreisgang] will be closed.” For more on what he designates the ‘praxeological’ coincidence of system and praxis in the field of thought opened up by the exercise of philosophy, cf. Ivaldo, Marco. “„Ein neuer Sinn zu entwickeln“: Fichtes letzes Vermächtnis.” In: Fichte-Studien 45 (2018, 1).

330

zorrilla piña

Thomas-Fogiel, Isabelle. “Fichte et l’actuelle querelle des arguments transcendantaux.” In: Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale 4 (2003), pp. 489–511. Zöller, Günter. “From Transcendental Philosophy to Wissenschaftslehre: Fichte’s Modification of Kant’s Idealism.” In: European Journal of Philosophy 15 (2007, 2), pp. 249– 269.

teil 4 / part 4 Freie Beiträge

∵

16 ‘Transcendental’ in Kant and Fichte: A Conceptual Shift and Its Philosophical Meaning Elena Ficara

Abstract The article is about the meaning of the word ‘transcendental’ in Kant and Fichte. Its aim is not merely exegetical. It is a common hermeneutical insight (now revitalised by research on conceptual engineering and conceptual genealogy for analytic philosophy) that analysing the use and definitions of concepts in history, and their shifts in the development of the history of philosophy, is a crucial tool we have to understand those concepts and to assess their viability for philosophy today. In this paper, I focus on Kant’s use and definitions of the word ‘transcendental’ and suggest that they are symptomatic of a fundamental question that is not completely answered in Kant’s philosophy. If transcendental philosophy deals not with objects but rather the conditions of possibility of objective knowledge, then important questions emerge: What are these possibility conditions? Do they exist? Are they special objects? What is their nature? I show that the shift in Fichte’s use and understanding of the concept of ‘transcendental’ leads to a possible solution of the problem Kant was struggling with.

Keywords Kant – Fichte – transcendental philosophy – metaphilosophy

In the Critique of Pure Reason, the term ‘transcendental’ is omnipresent. It is employed to define problems and arguments (like the Transcendental Deduction), disciplines and their constituent parts (the Transcendental Logic, which is divided into Transcendental Analytic and Transcendental Dialectic), a use of principles, concepts and ideas. While in Kant’s pre-critical writings the term is used only a few times in its old meaning, in the Critique of Pure Reason (first and second editions) alone it appears 821 times with a new meaning (see Hinske, ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1376 ff.).

© Elena Ficara, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_017

334

ficara

All of this indicates that, starting from the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant understood the term ‘transcendental’ in a programmatic way, as the qualification of his new philosophical perspective. In a famous letter to Herz at the end of 1773, Kant announces his project of grounding ‘a totally new science’, which requires a totally new terminology, and which will completely reshape philosophy (Kant, aa x, 137).1 In post-Kantian philosophy, the term is used as a battle cry against dogmatism, and it becomes a catchword. It not only stands for the very essence of philosophy (philosophy is per se transcendental, a perspective that is not transcendental is not philosophical), and is adopted by all manner of philosophers to define their view (as in Maimon, Versuch über die Transcendentalphilosophie; Buhle, Entwurf der Transcendentalphilosophie; Schelling, System des transzendentalen Idealismus; Schlegel, Transcendentalphilosophie) but it also appears as the qualification of a new, philosophical, art (Schlegel and Novalis write about Transzendentalpoesie and transzendentale Kunst) and science (Schlegel’s transzendentale Physik).2 Perhaps the first to retract from this inflationary use is Hegel. Though deeply admiring Kant’s new idea of philosophy, Hegel considers Kant’s terminology to be barbarian. For Hegel, the very idea conveyed by the term ‘transcendental’ is an expression of a fundamental misunderstanding. Transcendental philosophy, intended as the effort to analyse our knowledge before we know, is akin to wanting to learn to swim without going into the water (Hegel, Werke 20, 334). Hegel’s critique is not wholly ungrounded. Many interpreters confirm that some problems arise from Kant’s use of the term and his corresponding account of the transcendental method. According to Hinske (‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’), for example, the fundamental problem is the transcendental’s oscillation, in the Critique of Pure Reason, between its old and the new meanings. In the pre-Kantian tradition, the term was used as a noun (the transcendentals were the higher philosophical concepts unum verum bonum, more general than the categories and always presupposed in our use of the categories). In Kant, ‘transcendental’ is used as an adjective and qualifies a kind 1 Kant’s works are quoted, as usual, as aa, followed by the volume and page. The Critique of Pure Reason is quoted as A (first edition) or B (second edition). The translations are mine. On Kant’s totally new science see Hinske, ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1380– 1381. 2 That the term becomes a buzzword in post-Kantian philosophy is stressed by Hinske, ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1387. On the transcendental in Fichte, Schelling, Schlegel, Novalis and Schleiermacher, see Cesa, ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1388–1396.

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

335

of knowledge. Transcendental knowledge is not about objects or reality; it is about the possibility conditions of objective knowledge. Accordingly, Kant is the first to distinguish ‘transcendental’ from ‘transcendent’, while in the preKantian tradition the two terms were synonymous. And yet, Kant also uses the two terms as synonyms. Some preliminary terminological questions thus need to be discussed if one wishes to understand the meaning of the Kantian new philosophical perspective, and the reasons why it affirmed itself, in the subsequent philosophical landscape, as ‘transcendental’. Why did Kant, in seeking out a new terminology for his new science, opt for the old term ‘transcendental’, with its long tradition in pre-Kantian philosophy? What is the relationship between the old and new use? In my view, the oscillation between the ‘old’ and the ‘new’ meanings of the word ‘transcendental’ is symptomatic of a fundamental question that is not completely answered in Kant’s philosophy – namely, the question concerning the nature of the transcendental ‘sphere’. If transcendental philosophy deals not with objects but with the possibility conditions of objective knowledge, then the following questions emerge: What are the possibility conditions of the knowledge of objects? Do they exist? Are they special objects? What is their nature? In what follows, I will explain the differences between the old and the new use, highlight the problem as it arises in Kant’s account, and show how the shift in Fichte’s conception of transcendental philosophy provides a solution to the problem.

1

Kant

In the last paragraph of the introduction to the Critique of Pure Reason (A 13; B 26), Kant defines as ‘transcendental’ a knowledge that deals with either (as per the first edition) our a priori concepts of objects, or (as per the second edition) our knowledge of objects insofar as it should be possible a priori. There is no need to discuss here the already much-debated question about the differences between the two formulations. What is important to note are two essential features of transcendental knowledge addressed by Kant in both editions. The first is the reflexive nature of transcendental knowledge. The second is the relation between the transcendental and the a priori. Cassirer explains the connection between these two aspects in his reading of Kant’s definition. He states that ‘the designation “transcendental” properly belongs only to that theory showing us how the possibility of all knowledge […] rests on […] the

336

ficara

concepts […] a priori. [Concepts and ideas], taken in [themselves], cannot be called transcendental’ (Cassirer, Kant’s Life and Work, 151). The term ‘transcendental’ designates, as Cassirer stresses, a theory or knowledge that addresses the connection between knowledge a priori and knowledge of objects. Transcendental knowledge is not simply knowledge a priori, but rather theory or knowledge about how knowledge a priori makes knowledge of objects possible. Hence ‘transcendental knowledge’ involves some grade of semantic ascent (it is not knowledge about objects or reality, but knowledge about knowledge); moreover, it is related to a priori knowledge. 1.1 Transcendental and A Priori At the beginning of the introduction to the Critique of Pure Reason (B 1 ff.), Kant distinguishes between a priori and empirical knowledge. He stresses that ‘though all our empirical knowledge begins with experience, it by no means follows that all arises out of experience’ (Kant, B 1). We could even admit that our knowledge about experience is a combination of experiential elements and elements originating from our cognitive faculty. A knowledge or cognitive element that is independent of all experience is called pure and a priori, and is to be distinguished from empirical knowledge ‘which has its sources a posteriori, that is, in experience’ (Kant, B 4). This also means that a priori knowledge is universal and necessary. As Kant explains, it is necessary because experience only tells us that this or that object has a certain nature and is in a certain way, but not that it cannot be otherwise (Kant, B 4). Hence, ‘if we have a proposition that must be thought together with its necessity, it is a priori’. Moreover, a priori judgments exhibit ‘absolute universality, that is, admit of no possible exception’, while empirical judgments only have ‘assumed and comparative universality’ (Kant, B 4). Importantly, while every transcendental cognition is a priori, not every a priori cognition is transcendental. In Kant’s words: ‘Not every cognition a priori is transcendental, but only those through which we cognize that and how certain representations (intuitions or concepts) are applied or are possible only a priori’ (B 80). As an example, Kant recalls that Neither the notion of space, nor any a priori geometrical determination of space, [is] a transcendental representation, but only the knowledge that such a representation is not of empirical origin, and the possibility of its relating to objects of experience, although itself a priori, can be called transcendental. B 81

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

337

The passage very clearly shows the peculiar nature of the transcendental perspective: it is knowledge about knowledge – more specifically: it is a priori (i.e. universal and necessary) knowledge about the nature and limits of all a priori (i.e. universal and necessary) knowledge of objects. In sum, the analysis about the connection between transcendental knowledge and a priori knowledge shows that transcendental knowledge is a priori knowledge, i.e. it is not derived from experience. Furthermore, transcendental knowledge is not about objects, but about the possibility conditions of the knowledge of objects. Adorno (Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 35) calls transcendental knowledge, on the basis of Kant’s definition, a curious intermediate realm, a sort of no man’s land, since it is neither mere a priori knowledge (because it concerns the possibility of objective knowledge) nor empirical (because it does not posit any content and merely concerns the possibility to have such contents). Following and radicalizing Adorno’s point, the curious aspect of Kant’s definition is, in my view, the negative part, and concerns a specifically ontological problem. What does it mean to say that transcendental knowledge ‘does not occupy itself with objects’? Does it mean that it is not objective knowledge? Or that it does not have an object (in the sense of subject matter)? Or that its subject matter is not an object? These and similar questions are at the center of the discussions about the ontological interpretation of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason.3 I will return to the problem in Kant’s account in section 1.4., after the consideration of §12 of the Deduction on the transcendental philosophy of the ancients (section 1.2.) and of Kant’s distinction between transcendental and transcendent (section 1.3.). The paragraph on the transcendental philosophy of the ancients presents, very briefly, the Kantian conception (called by some ‘epistemological’) vis-à-vis the medieval and pre-Kantian (so-called ‘ontological’) conception.

3 In recent literature, the question about the role of metaphysics and ontology in Kant’s transcendentalism has been discussed in various historiographic perspectives: in relation to preKantian philosophy (see among others Ficara 2006, pp. 83–106, de Boer 2016, pp. 441–468, Lorini 2017); in relation to Hegel (in the Anglo-American debate the relation between metaphysics, transcendental philosophy, Kant and Hegel has been and still is the subject matter of intense discussions. See among many others Pippin 1989, Pinkard 1996, Beiser 2008, Pippin 2017, pp. 199–218, Kreines 2017, pp. 310–338, Zambrana 2017, pp. 291–309, Lebanidze 2019); in relation to Schelling (Gabriel 2017); in relation to the controversy between ontological versus neo-Kantian interpretation of Kant (Ficara 2006, pp 13–22, De Boer/Howard 2018, pp. 358– 377); in relation to Heidegger’s interpretation of Kant (Ficara 2003, pp. 273–291, Ficara 2010, De Boer/Howard 2018, pp. 358–377). In this panorama, the role of Fichte has not been the object of a systematic consideration yet.

338

ficara

1.2 Transcendental and the Transcendentals In §12 of the Deduction of the Categories (Kant, B 113–116) on the transcendental philosophy of the ancients, Kant explains the difference between his approach and the traditional account of the transcendentals. The paragraph is complex. Kant introduced it in the second edition of the Critique of Pure Reason. It addresses a matter of crucial metaphilosophical importance in just two pages and has been the topic of numerous discussions and interpretations.4 In what follows I will limit myself to highlighting one problem that emerges from the passage, in connection to what Guyer calls the ‘epistemological’ account of the transcendentals favored by Kant. More specifically, for Guyer, Kant ‘has borrowed the traditional term “transcendental”, which in medieval philosophy designated the most general determinations of being, to designate his own conception of cognition that is occupied not so much with objects but rather with our a priori concepts of objects’ (The Cambridge Companion, 11). Thus, ‘he has transformed the significance of the term from ontological to what we would now call epistemological’. Let us follow Kant’s argument in § 12 more closely and point to a possible problem associated with it. The transcendentals were presented in the proposition quodlibet ens est unum, verum, bonum and ‘not numbered among the categories’ (they were held to be more general than the categories). As Kant explains, they ‘ought, according to [the ancients], as conceptions a priori, to be valid of objects. But in this case they would augment the number of the categories; which cannot be’. For Kant, the transcendentals are ‘nothing but logical requisites and criteria of all cognition of objects, and they employ, as the basis for this cognition, the categories of quantity, namely, unity, plurality, and totality’ (B 114). Unum, verum, bonum are for Kant ‘nothing but logical requisites and criteria of all cognition of objects’. They are to be traced back to the categories of quantity. That they are requisites of all cognition means that we always use them when we know something. As Kant explains, in order to have genuine knowledge we need unum (i.e. unity), verum (truth), and bonum (perfection): 4 See Leisegang (‘Uber die Bedeutung des scholastischen Satzes’, 403–421) and the discussion between Hinske and Angelelli in Hinske (‘Die historischen Vorlagen der Kantischen Transzendentalphilosophie’, 83–113), Angelelli (‘On the Origins of Kant’s “Transcendental”’, 117–122), and Hinske (‘Kants Begriff des Transzendentalen’, 56–62). The old account of the transcendentals is still evident in Baumgarten’s Metaphysica (see Baumgarten, Metaphysica, §§ 116–123). On the relationship between classical and critical transcendental philosophy, see Hinske (‘Die historischen Vorlagen der Kantischen Transzendentalphilosophie’, 83–113), Hinske (Kants Weg zur Transzendentalphilosophie, 40–77), and Honnefelder (Scientia transcendens, 407 ff.). See, more recently, Doyle (‘Between Transcendental and Transcendental’, 783 ff.).

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

339

in every cognition of an object, there is unity of conception […] Secondly, there is truth in respect of the deductions from it. […] Thirdly, there is perfection – which consists in this, that the plurality falls back upon the unity of the conception, and accords completely with that conception and with no other. B 114

The ancients employed the transcendentals ‘merely in a formal signification, as belonging to the logical requisites of all cognition, and yet most unguardedly changed these criteria of thought into properties of objects, as things in themselves’ (Kant, B 114). Unity, truth, good (perfection) are, as Kant stresses, formal requisites of our knowledge. Yet the ancients intended them as properties of being or reality; they ‘unguardedly changed these criteria into properties of objects’. Hence the transcendentals are, in Kant’s view, criteria of knowledge of objects and not properties of objects. At this point, one might ask: are the transcendentals properties of all cognition/knowledge, ways in which cognition/knowledge is? Strictly speaking, they are, since the passage explicitly illuminates the new Kantian understanding of the transcendentals as traits of knowledge rather than of being (as in the medieval tradition). However, answering this question in the affirmative would mean that we treat criteria and modi as properties, and intend knowledge itself as an object of knowledge. Since Kant warns against considering logical criteria as properties of objects, the transcendentals cannot be ways in which ‘all cognition’ (knowledge in itself) is. Moreover, the account of objective knowledge established by Kant in the deduction of the categories implies that to have objective validity, the categories’ use is to be restricted to experience and to the manifold given through intuition. Since knowledge itself cannot be given through intuition, it cannot be an object of knowledge. 1.3 Transcendental and Transcendent The further difference between the Kantian and the traditional use concerns the relationship between transcendental and transcendent. The transcendentals were also called transcendentia. In this context, transcendent refers to the property of unum verum bonum to encompass (circumire) categories. The context of Kant’s use is different: ‘transcendent’ are those representations, principles, and intellectual functions that go beyond experience. Accordingly, Kant introduces the distinction between transcendent and immanent, which cannot be found before him: ‘We shall term those principles the application of which

340

ficara

is confined entirely within the limits of possible experience, immanent; those, on the other hand, which transgress these limits, we shall call transcendent principles’ (Kant, B 352). Kant also distinguishes between transcendent and transcendental: ‘thus transcendental and transcendent are not identical terms’ (B 352). Yet, also in this case, Kant’s self-distancing from the traditional account presents some difficulties. In several passages of the Critique of Pure Reason, transcendental and transcendent are also used as synonyms. At the beginning of the Transcendental Logic (B 81), Kant calls empirical the use of representations that is limited to objects given in experience, transcendental in contrast their use in relation to objects in general. And in B 298, similarly, he explains that the transcendental use is referred to objects in general and in themselves, while the empirical one is referred to phaenomena or objects of a possible experience. In B 303 Kant stresses that the use of pure concepts can only be empirical, and never transcendental. In this context, the conceptual pair transcendental versus empirical seems to coincide with that of transcendent versus immanent. ‘Transcendental’ stands for ‘transcendent’ and ‘empirical’ for ‘immanent’. Yet, as we have seen, Kant distinguishes between transcendental and transcendent: Thus transcendental and transcendent are not identical terms. The principles of the pure understanding, which we have already propounded, ought to be of empirical and not of transcendental use, that is, they are not applicable to any object beyond the sphere of experience. A principle which removes these limits, nay, which authorizes us to overstep them, is called transcendent. B 352

Transcendental qualifies here a use of principles, while transcendent, in contrast, is the property of principles. Elsewhere, Kant also writes about an immanent use of principles, which differs from a transcendent one, and of transcendental principles. As such, we can conclude that the terms transcendental and transcendent, despite being explicitly distinguished, are also used as synonyms in the Critique of Pure Reason. Kant’s attempt to distinguish between the two ultimately goes back to the greater or smaller radicalness of a same going beyond experience. In the Prolegomena, Kant eliminates possible misunderstandings about the difference between transcendental and transcendent more clearly: a principle or use of principles that goes beyond experience is exclusively called ‘transcendent’, while ‘transcendental’ is meant to refer to a going before experience, in order to make it possible. The word ‘transcendental’

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

341

does not signify something passing beyond all experience, but something that indeed precedes it a priori, but that is intended simply to make cognition of experience possible. If these conceptions overstep experience, their employment is termed transcendent, a word which must be distinguished from transcendental, the latter being limited to the immanent use, that is, to experience. kant, aa iv, 373–374

In sum, in the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant claims that the two concepts transcendental and transcendent are to be distinguished while, at the same time, he sometimes writes about a transcendental use of reason. On this basis, some commentators (chiefly Hinske) have stressed the inconsistency of Kant’s usage. For others, such as Bird, the inconsistency is only apparent, and can be remedied. On Bird’s reading, ‘what is needed is to recognize that “transcendental” and “transcendent” are not contradictories and that the former is the genus of which the transcendent and the immanent uses are, respectively, the illusory and genuine species’ (‘Kant’s Analytic Apparatus’, 137). In stressing that ‘transcendent’ and ‘transcendental’ are not contradictories but contraries, Bird illuminates an important point. One could further develop this point by stating that, if we keep to Kant’s own definition of transcendental knowledge, then the transcendental level is transversal with respect to the conceptual pair transcendent versus immanent. It concerns the theory about the possibility conditions of our use of principles and concepts, rather than their (transcendent or immanent) use. But, if this is so, then Kant’s calling a use of principles or a principle ‘transcendental’ must strike us as strange. If we follow Kant’s own definition in B 80–81, only the theory about how principles a priori can be used, and how their use is related to possible experience, can be called transcendental. Principles, concepts, ideas, and even their uses, cannot be called transcendental, according to Kant’s new definition. An attempt to save Kant from the reproach of inconsistency is to argue that, in those passages in which he conflates the transcendental and the transcendent, he characterizes the transcendental in a negative way, as not part of the transcendental perspective he was trying to establish. Hence, those passages cannot be taken as indicative of the transcendental perspective in the positive new meaning in which he was interested.5 However, even if we take for granted that the passages do not concern the new meaning of the transcendental perspective, they clearly highlight an instability in Kant’s use, a non-conformity with the new Kantian meaning. My suggestion is that this instability is the linguistic symptom of a problem of some sort. 5 Thanks to Gabriele Gava for pointing this out to me.

342

ficara

1.4 The Problem The problem emerging from Kant’s use and definitions is an ontological/metaphysical one. It concerns the question of the nature and existence of transcendentalism’s subject matter, the possibility conditions of objective knowledge. As noted previously, Adorno referred to the curious intermediate realm, the proverbial no man’s land opened up by the transcendental perspective. I have suggested that we radicalize Adorno’s point by focusing on the problematic nature intrinsic to the negative part of Kant’s definition: ‘transcendental knowledge does not occupy itself with objects’, but rather concerns the possibility conditions of objective knowledge. The possibility conditions are transcendentalism’s subject matter; but, strictly speaking, Kant’s account in § 12 of the Deduction warns against considering them as objects of knowledge, which prevents us from knowing something about their nature and properties. Hegel mocked Kant by asking how one could possibly know these possibility conditions before, or without, knowing them. It is evident that Kant did not intend to bring transcendentalism to such absurd outcomes. However, similar questions have occupied readers since the publication of the first edition of the Critique of Pure Reason and they remain central to many contemporary debates on the nature of transcendental philosophy.6 Furthermore, Kant himself declared to struggle, occasionally, with a linguistic problem, a problem concerning how to express the new research field inaugurated by his ‘totally new science’.7 In many passages he refers to his own 6 As Horstmann (‘The Reception of the Critique of Pure Reason’, 392ff.) reconstructs, a common view among post-Kantian philosophers is that Kant’s theoretical philosophy is incomplete and as such is in need of a new foundation. Reinhold’s view was that ‘Kant had not given an account of the principles that lie at the basis of his theory as its premises’ (Horstmann, ‘The Reception of the Critique of Pure Reason’, 330). For Jacobi, Kant’s transcendentalism rests on a paradox: ‘without the presupposition of things in themselves I could not enter into the system, but with it I could not stay within it’ (‘David Hume on Faith’, 397). According to Maimon (Versuch über die Transcendentalphilosophie), Kant’s philosophy is irreducibly skeptical. That the post-Kantian critique of Kant rests on a misunderstanding is stressed by De Boer (‘The Vicissitudes of Metaphysics’, 267–286). In contemporary interpretations, the question about the nature of transcendental philosophy is differently addressed. That the transcendental sphere is neither logical (because it concerns the possibility of objective knowledge) nor empirical (because it does not posit any content and merely concerns the possibility to have such contents) encourages us to think of transcendental philosophy as a no man’s land (see Adorno, Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 35 ff.). Hintikka (‘Das Paradox transzendentaler Erkenntnis’, 138) points out, similarly to Jacobi, that Kant’s view is paradoxical: our cognitive structures are unknowable insofar as and because the thing in itself is unknowable. 7 According to Oesterreich (‘Die Bedeutung der Rhetorik’, 441–460), a linguistic problem, the problem of expressing and communicating the new research field discovered by Kant, was the motor of the development from Kant to Fichte.

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

343

exposition as defective [mangelhaft] and incomplete, and declares his intention of leaving its completion [Vollendung] to those who are able to ‘connect the depth of insight with the clarity of expression’ (Kant, B 23). Interestingly, Fichte conceived of his work as the attempt to fulfill this task, ‘dedicating his life to the exposition [Darstellung] of Kant’s great discovery’ (Fichte, ga 1, 4, 183). More specifically and substantially, Fichte’s interpretation and development of the transcendental perspective, in my view, presents us with a possible solution to the problem with which Kant was struggling.

2

Fichte

The word ‘transcendental’ does not appear in Fichte’s first accounts of his philosophical position, the manuscript ‘Private Meditations on Elementary Philosophy/Practical Philosophy’ (Winter 1793/1794) and the series of private lectures on his conception of philosophy held in Zurich (Spring 1794).8 Here Fichte calls Kant’s philosophy ‘critical’ and his own philosophical science Wissenschaftslehre or, in the style of Reinhold, ‘elementary philosophy’. As Cesa (‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1389) observes, Fichte’s early works focus on the religious and political applications of Kant’s transcendentalism, rather than the question of its theoretical meaning. Only after the study of Schulze’s Aenesidemus in 1793 is Fichte’s metaphilosophical awareness shaken: ‘philosophy’, as Fichte writes in a letter to Wloemer in 1793, ‘is still far away from having the status of a science’. What is needed is a scientific and rigorous foundation for the Kantian results. To this end, it is necessary ‘to formulate basic principles from which the functions of human thought are to be derived and, finally, to prove that things are adequate determinations of our pure I’ (Fichte, ga iii/2, 14). Fichte hints here at the need to make the epistemological and ontological presuppositions of Kant’s results explicit by showing how the categories or concepts a priori, which claim to be adequate expressions of reality, are rooted in the self-reflexive activity of the I-think. Even if in Versuch einer Kritik aller Offenbarung (1792) Fichte does not use the term ‘transcendental’, he defines ‘transcendent’ in a manner that recalls Kant’s 8 Fichte’s works are quoted as sw and ga, followed by the volume and page. The translations are mine. On Fichte’s interpretation of the transcendental, see Cesa (‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1388–1391) and Cesa (Introduzione a Fichte, 6ff.). For the reconstruction of Fichte’s notion of transcendental philosophy and its relation to life, see Breazeale (Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, especially Chapter 13). On the importance of scepticism for the development of the transcendental perspective in Kant and Fichte see Ivaldo (‘Skeptizismus bei Fichte’, 19–38).

344

ficara

conception and demonstrates the continuity between the two accounts of the transcendental method. The postulates of reason, as Fichte writes, refer to ‘the relation of the moral law to finite beings, and not to the possibility of the law in itself. The latter inquiry would be transcendent’. In this sense, the postulates of reason are valid only ‘subjectively, i.e. for finite beings – yet for these [finite beings] they are universally valid’ (Fichte, ga i/1, 22). For Fichte, as for Kant, a use of postulates or principles that goes beyond the limits of our finite (in Kantian terms: experiential) thought is transcendent. In contrast, Fichte stresses that the postulates of reason are to be referred to finite natures and are as such subjectively valid. Importantly, the meaning of subjectivity and finiteness to which Fichte refers is a special one. More specifically, Fichte points to the connection between finiteness/subjectivity and universal validity. That the postulates of reason are subjectively valid and referred to finite beings does not mean that they are relative or contingent. Rather, for Fichte, they are universally valid (in Kant’s words: they are a priori). Kant, as we have seen, states that transcendental knowledge is tasked with showing how and under what conditions a priori knowledge of objects is possible. For both Kant and Fichte, the necessity and universality of the a priori is a necessity under certain conditions; it is a restricted kind of necessity. For Fichte, it is the universality and necessity stemming from finite and subjective structures. In the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (1794/95), Fichte presents the philosophical science in terms of ‘transcendental philosophy’, as well as Wissenschaftslehre and critical idealism.9 By ‘transcendental philosophy’ he means a perspective or standpoint that allows us to see the difference between everyday thought and philosophical thought. More specifically, if we look at reality from the point of view of transcendental philosophy, we see that ‘it is generated through the faculty of imagination’ (Fichte, ga i/2, 368). That the Wissenschaftslehre allows us to see how reality is generated by the imaginative faculty (Einbildungskraft) does not mean that it is anti-realist. The question about Fichte’s realism and, more generally, about the relation between idealism and realism in Kant’s and Post-Kantian philosophy is complex. In what follows, I limit myself to present the nexus between transcendental philosophy and realism hinted at by Fichte in ga i/2, 411 f., as well as to hint at its presuppositions in Kant’s account. Many Fichte scholars agree on the basic assumption that transcendental philosophy is not anti-realistic.

9 In using the expression ‘critical idealism’, Fichte follows Kant, who, in §13 of the Prolegomena, declared the expression ‘critical idealism’ better apt to define his own position than the term ‘transcendental idealism’.

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

345

As Breazeale highlights, transcendental philosophy for Fichte presents, in all phases of its development, ‘no threat whatsoever to our commitment to everyday realism’; according to Fichte, transcendental philosophy ‘stands firmly with its foot in this same ordinary domain and proceeds from it’ (Breazeale, Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, 41). According to Rockmore, Kant’s as well as Fichte’s conception of transcendental philosophy is inseparable from what he calls cognitive constructivism, whereby the constructivist approach to cognition implies that ‘the subject […] “constructs” what it cognizes’ (Rockmore, ‘Is Fichte’s Position Transcendental Philosophy?’, 51). This, as Rockmore himself stresses, does not imply an anti-realistic attitude, neither in Kant nor in Fichte. Kant’s position involves empirical realism (see Kant B 274ff.), i.e. the admission of an external, independent reality that affects our senses. In this light, the ‘constructivist’ or ‘subjective’ import of the transcendental perspective does not concern the existence of reality (the subject does not produce what there is), but its objective knowability (the subject, its a priori structures, make objective knowledge of reality possible). To recall Cassirer’s explanation of the special kind of subjectivity implied by the transcendental perspective: ‘This “subjectivity” [is] […] a specific lawfulness of cognition, to which a determinate form of objectivity […] is to be traced back. Once this is grasped, that secondary sense of “subjective”, which infects it with the appearance of individuality and arbitrariness, immediately vanishes’ (Cassirer, Kant’s Life and Work, 151). In the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (1794/95) Fichte explicitly addresses the relation between transcendental philosophy and realism: The doctrine of science [Wissenschaftslehre] is thus realistic. It shows that consciousness […] cannot be explained without assuming a force that exists independently of [consciousness] […] Despite its realism, this science is not transcendent, but rather […] transcendental. It explains every consciousness on the basis of something that is present independently of every consciousness; but it does not forget that, in this explanation, it complies with its own laws and, as soon as it reflects upon this, that independent [force] becomes a product of its own thought [Fichte’s emphasis]. fichte, ga i/2, 411–412

The Wissenschafslehre has thought itself (consciousness/Bewusstsein) as its research field. The explanation of thought is possible because there is something external to it and independent of it that stimulates/activates the same activity of thought. In this respect, the Wissenschaftslehre is realistic. It is tran-

346

ficara

scendental insofar as it reflects about our thought and its rootedness in external reality and, in so doing, realizes that reality conforms to thought’s own laws. That the Wissenschaftslehre is realistic means, in short, that thought thinking about thought is the possibility condition of reality’s knowability according to laws. That it is realistic means that thought is made possible (activated) by something existing independently of thought. Fichte uses here (ga i/2, 406) and in other texts the figure of the ‘transcendental point’ [transzendentaler Punkt], by which he means the specific philosophical standpoint. In Fichte’s own words, the I is essentially self-reflection. Thus, the activity [of the I] goes back itself. To use a word derived from the natural sciences but expression of the same transcendental point in which we are now […] its direction is […] centripetal […]. [However], we can attribute to the […] activity of the I a direction, more specifically a centripetal direction, only under the tacit assumption that [it also has] another, centrifugal direction […]. [The I’s self-reflection] has thus two components: insofar as it reflects the direction of its activity is centripetal; and insofar as it is the object of reflection the direction of its activity is centrifugal. fichte ga i/2, 406

The transcendental point is the perspective that allows us to consider the interplay between self-oriented (centripetal) and object-oriented (centrifugal) nature of self-reflexive thought. Importantly, as Cesa (‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’, 1390) notes, the theory about the transcendental point ‘is not an ontological foundation, but rather the explanation of how such a foundation must be thought’. This means, in my view, that what Fichte is interested in is not a foundation of philosophy in the I, whereby the I is intended as an entity. Rather, what is peculiar about Fichte’s account is the metaphilosophical perspective, namely, the questions: ‘what is transcendental thought?’ and ‘how is it different from everyday and popular philosophical thought?’ The Fichtean ‘transcendental point’, is, in this perspective, not the subject as opposed to the object, or thought as opposed to reality, but rather self-reflexive thought intended as the possibility condition of the distinction between subject and object, thought and reality. The transcendental point is a sphere or standpoint; it is the philosophical sphere that allows us to evaluate the adequacy of our concepts in grasping reality, the rootedness of our concepts in reality as well as the dependence of reality’s knowability upon self-reflexive thought.

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

347

As Breazeale (Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre) has shown, the distinction between the ‘standpoints’ of, on the one hand, ordinary human life and, on the other, transcendental philosophy is a characteristic feature of all Fichte’s ‘critical’ or introductory writings from the Jena period (1794–1801). In these writings, Fichte examines the nature of the transcendental standpoint and illuminates different aspects connected with it.10 Here I am interested in the recurrent traits of what Fichte calls the ‘transcendental standpoint’. In all these writings Fichte identifies, more specifically, the transcendental standpoint with the standpoint of philosophy (see Breazeale, Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, 46), and characterizes it as a third level of thought/inquiry (see the series of lectures ‘On the Duties of Scholars’ given during his first semester in Jena, as well as ga i/7, 203–204; ga i/7, 246). Fichte distinguishes between three levels of spirit or thought: first, one surrenders to the primary determinations of reality and forgets oneself; in the second, the opposition between oneself as subject and the object emerges; the third level involves awareness of the first two levels. Interestingly, the third level is always intended as the possibility condition of the first two.11 In 1799, Fichte defines transcendental thinking as an ‘entirely new kind of intellectual labour, the like of which has never existed before’. It is the specifically philosophical way of thinking and involves having as one’s only object the operation of one’s thought (ga i/7, 244). The operations of thought are the object of transcendental philosophy or the transcendental way of thinking. The idea, first presented in the Wissenschaftslehre 1804, that the Wissenschaftslehre or transcendental philosophy is the genuine philosophia prima or metaphysics (Fichte, ga ii/8, 406), which has the task of revealing the right path for metaphysics to take, confirms these insights (Fichte, ga ii/9, 291). The explicit connection Fichte establishes between Wissenschaftslehre and metaphysics is important, for it speaks to the continuity between Kant’s and Fichte’s accounts, while also allowing us to assess their differences. Fichte’s appropriation of the transcendental strengthens the metaphilosophical awareness that was already implicit in the Kantian perspective. In the Wissenschaftslehre 1812 (but see also the Lectures on Transcendental Logic of the same year), Fichte’s solution to what I have called transcendentalism’s ontological problem is presented in the clearest terms. As Fichte writes in the Wissenschaftslehre 1812:

10 11

For the history of the development of Fichte’s thought on this matter, see Breazeale (Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, Chapter 13). See Breazeale’s reconstruction (Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre, 7).

348

ficara

As soon as we reflect about knowledge (Wissen), it presents itself as knowledge. Knowledge presents itself as a mere schema and by no means as reality […] all reflection destroys reality. What would be the instrument to escape this collapse of reality, this nihilism? Knowledge knows itself as pure schema, therefore it must be based on pure reality, it must know itself as absolute schema, absolute phaenomenon. One has to reflect from start to finish. Reflection, insofar as it is what destroys reality, bears its own remedy, the proof of the reality of knowledge. sw x, 325–326

This passage is helpful in illuminating not only the problem intrinsic to the transcendental perspective, but also its solution. The problem is intrinsic to establishing the a priori as the possibility condition of objective knowledge. In the very moment in which, adopting the transcendental way of thinking, knowledge itself – and not reality or the objects – is the object of our knowledge, we assume our knowledge as distinct from the objects and reality (as according to the negative part of Kant’s formulation, transcendental knowledge is not about objects, and is distinct from them). As Fichte and indeed the post-Kantian philosophers emphasize, this has destructive, skeptical-nihilistic consequences (if knowledge does not deal with reality or objects, then what exactly does it deal with?). But the same transcendental reflection that forces us to see knowledge as distinct from reality and the objects presents us with a fact. The fact of knowledge as distinct from empirical reality, a fact which is real, has a pure reality distinct from empirical reality. In the Lectures on Transcendental Logic of 1812, Fichte addresses this question in polemical terms against Kant’s lack of metaphilosophical awareness. He underlines that ‘as a transcendental philosopher, I am used to think thought, whenever there is thought’ (Fichte, Über das Verhältniss der Logik zur Philosophie, 12). Fichte goes on to criticize Kant’s lack of statements about the nature of the reality the philosopher deals with. ‘Kant’s standpoint is indifferent with respect to true and false philosophy; it floats above both, comparing them with each other. Hence it is only critique. Kant practices only critique of pure reason […] the relation between wl and Kant’s critique is this: the latter is without philosophy, the former, the wl, is philosophy itself’ (Fichte, Über das Verhältniss der Logik zur Philosophie, 5).12

12

On the concept of transcendental logic in Fichte’s lectures of 1812, see Bertinetto ( J.G. Fichte. Logica trascendentale ii).

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

3

349

Conclusion

The oscillation, in the Critique of Pure Reason, between the old and the new meaning of the transcendental, as well as Kant’s assumption (as it emerges in his discussion of the ‘transcendental philosophy of the ancients’) that knowledge itself cannot be an object of knowledge, leave the following questions unanswered: What is transcendental knowledge? More specifically, if it is not knowledge about objects, but about the possibility conditions of the knowledge of objects, what are these possibility conditions? Are they real? Fichte’s use of the concept is focused precisely on the attempt to answer these questions. Without renouncing the epistemological aspects of Kant’s transcendental perspective, Fichte draws out and renders explicit the metaphilosophical meaning of the transcendental that was already a genuine, if latent, potential in Kant’s own account. That transcendental knowledge does not occupy itself with objects does not mean for Fichte that it is a mere critique, and that the possibility conditions are mere instruments of the critique, without reality. Fichte’s answer to the question: ‘what are the possibility conditions of objective knowledge?’ is: ‘the philosophical standpoint, which is selfreflexive thought’. Moreover, self-reflexive thought is for Fichte real; its reality is not empirical but pure, and it is rooted in experience and human life. The figures and metaphors that Fichte uses – such as the idea of the I as the transcendental point – further illuminate the nature of self-reflexive thought as the ‘unity of the centrifugal and centripetal force’, as that without which there would be no objective knowledge, nor any adequacy between thought and reality. As such, ‘transcendental’ is, for Fichte, the same philosophical standpoint and research field. To return to Hegel’s nautical metaphor, the transcendental field is the sea in which philosophers can swim.13

Bibliography Adorno, Theodor W. Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1995. Angelelli, Ignacio. ‘On the Origins of Kant’s “Transcendental”’. Kant-Studien 63 (1972): 117–122. Baumgarten, Alexander G. Metaphysica. Halle: Emmerde, 1739. Beiser, Frederick. ‘The Puzzling Hegel-Renaissance’. In The Cambridge Companion to Hegel and Nineteenth Century Philosophy edited by Frederick Beiser, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1–14, 2008. 13

This work was generously supported by the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation.

350

ficara

Bertinetto, Alessandro, ed. J.G. Fichte. Logica trascendentale ii. Napoli: Guerini, 2004. Bird, Graham. ‘Kant’s Analytic Apparatus’. In A Companion to Kant, edited by G. Bird, 125–139. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2006. Breazeale, Daniel. Thinking Through the Wissenschaftslehre: Themes from Fichte’s Early Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Buhle, Johann Gottlieb. Entwurf der Transcendentalphilosophie, Göttingen, 1798. Cassirer, Ernst. Kant’s Life and Work. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1981. Cesa, Claudio. ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’. In Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie, vol. 10, edited by G. Gabriel, J. Ritter, and K. Gründer, 1388–1396. Basel: Schwabe, 1998. Cesa, Claudio. Introduzione a Fichte. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 1998. De Boer, Karin. ‘Transformations of Transcendental Philosophy. Wolff, Kant, and Hegel’. Bulletin of the Hegel Society of Great Britain 63 (2011): 50–79. De Boer, Karin. ‘The Vicissitudes of Metaphysics in Kant and Early Post-Kantian Philosophy’. Revista Portuguesa de Filosofia 71/2 (2015): 267–286. De Boer, Karin. ‘Categories versus Schemata: Kant’s Two-Aspect Theory of Pure Concepts and his Critique of Wolffian Metaphysics’. Journal of the History of Philosophy 54/3 (2016): 441–468. De Boer, K., Howard, S. ‘A Ground Completely Overgrown: Heidegger, Kant, and the Problem of Metaphysics’. British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 27/2 (2018): 358–377. Doyle, John P. ‘Between Transcendental and Transcendental: The Missing Link?’ The Review of Metaphysics 50/4 (1997): 783–815. Ficara, Elena. ‘Heidegger interprete del trascendentale’. In: Giornale Critico della Filosofia Italiana 84/2 (2003): 273–291. Ficara, Elena. Die Ontologie in der Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann 2006. Ficara, Elena. Heidegger e il problema della metafisica. Roma: Casini 2010. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 42 Bände, hrsg. von Reinhard Lauth, Erich Fuchs und Hans Gliwitzky. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1962–2011. (Quoted as ga, followed by the volume and page). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Fichtes Werke. 11 Bände, hrsg. von Immanuel Hermann Fichte. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971. (Quoted as sw followed by the volume and page). Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. Über das Verhältniss der Logik zur Philosophie oder transscendentale Logik. Vorlesungen von Oktober bis Dezember 1812, edited by R. Lauth, P.K. Schneider, and K. Hiller. Hamburg: Meiner, 1982. Gabriel, Markus. Transcendental Ontology. Essays in German Idealism. London: Bloomsbury, 2013. Guyer, Paul, ed. The Cambridge Companion to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.

‘transcendental’ in kant and fichte

351

Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich. Werke in zwanzig Bänden. Theorie Werkausgabe. Auf der Grundlage der Werke von 1832–1845 neu edierte Ausgabe. Redaktion von Eva Moldenhauer und Karl Markus Michel. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1969–. (Quoted as ‘Hegel Werke’, followed by the volume and page). Hinske, Norbert. ‘Die historischen Vorlagen der Kantischen Transzendentalphilosophie’. Archiv für Begriffsgeschichte 12 (1968): 86–113. Hinske, Norbert. Kants Weg zur Transzendentalphilosophie. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1970. Hinske, Norbert. ‘Kants Begriff des Transzendentalen und die Problematik seiner Begriffsgeschichte, Erwiderung auf Ignacio Angelelli’. Kant-Studien 64 (1973): 56– 62. Hinske, Norbert. ‘Transzendental; Transzendentalphilosophie’. In Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie, vol. 10, edited by G. Gabriel, J. Ritter, and K. Gründer, 1379–1387. Basel: Schwabe, 1998. Hintikka, Jaakko. ‘Das Paradox transzendentaler Erkenntnis’. In Bedingungen der Möglichkeit, edited by E. Schaper and W. Vossenkuhl, 123–149. Tübingen: Cotta’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1984. Honnefelder, Ludger. Scientia transcendens. Die formale Bestimmung der Seiendheit und Realität in der Metaphysik des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit (Duns Scotus – Suárez – Wolff – Kant – Peirce). Hamburg: Meiner, 1990. Horstmann, Rolf-Peter. ‘The Reception of the Critique of Pure Reason in German Idealism’. In The Cambridge Companion to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, edited by P. Guyer, 329–345. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. Ivaldo, Marco. ‘Skeptizismus bei Fichte mit besonderer Berücksichtigung der Rolle des Zweifels in der Bestimmung des Menschen’. In Skeptizismus und Philosophie. Kant, Fichte, Hegel, edited by E. Ficara, Fichte Studien 39, 19–38, 2011. Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich. David Hume über den Glauben, oder Idealismus und Realismus. Ein Gespräch. Breslau: Gottlieb Löwe, 1787. Kant, Immanuel. Kant’s gesammelte Schriften, hrsg. von der Königlich Preußischen (später Deutschen) Akademie der Wissenschaften. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1900–. (Quoted as aa, followed by the volume and page). The Critique of Pure Reason is quoted as A (first edition) or B (second edition). Kreines, James. ‘From Objectivity to the Absolute Idea in Hegel’s Logic’. In The Oxford Handbook of Hegel, edited by Dean Moyar, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 310–338, 2017. Lebanidze, Giorgi. Hegel’s Transcendental Ontology, New York London: Lexington Books, 2019. Leisegang, Hans. ‘Uber die Bedeutung des scholastischen Satzes: “Quodlibet ens est unum, verum, bonum seu perfectum” und seine Bedeutung in Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft’. Kant-Studien 20/4 (1915): 403–421.

352

ficara

Lorini, Gualtiero. Fonti e lessico dell’ontologia kantiana. I Corsi di Metafisica (1762–1795). Pisa: ets, 2017. Maimon, Salomon. Versuch über die Transcendentalphilosophie. Berlin: Voß und Sohn, 1790. Novalis. ‘Vorarbeiten zu verschiedenen Fragmentsammlungen’. In Werke, Tagebücher und Briefe Friedrich von Hardenbergs, edited by Hans-Joachim Mähl and Richard Samuel. München: Carl Hanser, 1798. Oesterreich, Peter Lothar. ‘Die Bedeutung der Rhetorik bei der Entstehung des deutschen Idealismus im Übergang von Kant zu Fichte’. Rhetorica: A Journal of the History of Rhetoric 14/4 (1996): 441–460. Pinkard, Terry. ‘What Is The Non-Metaphysical Reading Of Hegel? A Reply To F.C. Beiser’. In: Bullettin of the Hegel Society of Great Britain 34, 13–20, 1996. Pippin, Robert. Hegel’s Idealism. The Satisfactions of Self-Consciousness. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Pippin, Robert. ‘Hegel on Logic as Metaphysics’. In The Oxford Handbook of Hegel edited by Dean Moyar, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 199–218, 2017. Rockmore, Tom. ‘Is Fichte’s Position Transcendental Philosophy?’. In Fichte and Transcendental Philosophy, edited by D. Breazeale and T. Rockmore, 47–57. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014. Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph. System des transzendentalen Idealismus. Tübingen: Cotta, 1800. Schlegel, Friedrich. Transcendentalphilosophie. In Friedrich Schlegel. Kritische Schriften und Fragmente. Studienausgabe, 6 Bde, edited by Ernst Behler. Paderborn: Schöningh, 1988 [1800–1801]. Zambrana, Rocío, ‘Subjectivity in Hegel’s Logic’. In The Oxford Handbook of Hegel, edited by Dean Moyar, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 291–309, 2017.

17 Fichtes Kolleg „Moral für Gelehrte“ – Jena 1794– 1795: Zur Geschichte von „Über Geist und Buchstaben“ Ricardo Barbosa

Zusammenfassung Der vorliegende Aufsatz ist ein Beitrag zur Geschichte von Fichtes Publicum „Moral für Gelehrte“ (Jena – 1794–1795). Ziel ist es, einige Missverständnisse bezüglich der Chronologie, der thematischen Gliederung und sogar hinsichtlich des Buchstabens und des Geistes dieses berühmten Kollegs aufzuklären.

Schlagwörter Fichte – Moral für Gelehrte – Bestimmung des Gelehrten – Geist und Buchstabe

Abstract The following article is a contribution to the history of Fichte’s Publicum „Moral für Gelehrte“ (Jena – 1794–1795). Its purpose is to elucidate some misunderstandings about the chronology, the thematic articulation, and even the letter and spirit of these wellknown lectures.

Keywords Fichte – moral for scholar – scholar’s vocation – spirit and letter

i Von Fichtes Publicum „Moral für Gelehrte“, gehalten im Sommersemester 1794 und im Wintersemester 1794–1795, blieben leider lediglich unvollständiges

© Ricardo Barbosa, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_018

354

barbosa

Material und einige Missverständnisse bezüglich seiner Chronologie und seiner thematischen Gliederung übrig. Hauptquelle ist heute natürlich der kleine Band Einige Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten (1794). Wie man im „Vorbericht“ zu diesem neuen und unerwarteten Buch lesen kann, seien solche Vorlesungen der Eingang in ein Ganzes, das der Verfasser vollenden, und zu seiner Zeit dem Publikum vorlegen will. Eine äußere Veranlassung,1 die weder zur richtigen Beurtheilung, noch zum richtigen Verstehen dieser Blätter etwas beitragen kann, bewog ihn, diese fünf ersten Vorlesungen abgesondert abdrucken zu lassen, und zwar gerade so, wie er sie gehalten, ohne daran ein Wort zu ändern. Dies möge ihn über manche Nachläßigkeit im Ausdrucke entschuldigen.2 Obwohl angeblich „unbedeutend“3, wünschte Fichte eine bessere Bestimmung für diese Vorlesungen. Als „Eingang“ in ein noch unvollendetes „Ganzes“ könnten sie eine propädeutische Funktion innehaben: und zwar die einer populären Einführung in den „Geist“ der Wissenschaftslehre, begriffen als Aufforderung sowohl zu einem gründlichen Studium der Philosophie, als auch zum moralischen Handeln. Denn die Welt sollte nach dem Ebenbild der praktischen Vernunft umgebildet werden. Das war die Absicht des ganzen Kollegs.4 Jenseits dieses Büchleins bleiben: (a) ein Aufsatz: „Ueber Belebung und Erhöhung des reinen Interesse für Wahrheit“; (b) drei handschriftliche Vorlesungen – mit zwei Entwürfen – über „Geist“ und „Buchstabe“, besonders in der Philosophie; (c)

1 Es ging um die Gerüchte, dass Fichte ein gefährlicher Jakobiner sei. Diese entstanden, da er in seinem Publicum sagte, die Welt sei in 10 bis 20 Jahren frei von Königen und Fürsten. Vgl. ga i/3, 13 u. 25. 2 BdG, ga i/3, 25. 3 So beurteilte Fichte sein neues Buch in Briefen an J.F. Schulz und I. Kant vom 6. Okt. 1794. ga iii/2, 204 u. 206. 4 Die vorliegende Arbeit – daran sei erinnert – ist historischer Art. Für eine systematische Behandlung des Themas siehe das Nachwort meiner Übersetzung von Fichtes Einige Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten („Fichte e o ethos do erudito“. In: J.G. Fichte, O destino do erudito. São Paulo 2014, S. 95–129), die Einleitung meiner Übersetzung der restlichen Materialien zu diesen Vorlesungen („›Sou um sacerdote da verdade.‹ Fichte e suas preleções públicas na Universidade de Jena em 1794–95“. In: J.G. Fichte, Moral para eruditos. Preleções públicas na Universidade de Jena (1794–95). São Paulo 2019, S. 9–57) und den Aufsatz „Intuição e reflexão – ou sobre espírito e letra na Wissenschaftslehre de Fichte (1794– 95)“. In: Revista de estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 19, 2019. url: http://journals.openedition.org/ref/​ 1143.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

355

eine gedruckte Vorlesung und auch ein Teil ihrer Handschrift – und zwar die letzte des ss 1794; (d) eine handschriftliche Vorlesung – die Erste des ws 1794– 1795.5 Ad a) Der Aufsatz „Ueber Belebung und Erhöhung des reinen Interesse für Wahrheit“ (ga i/3, 83–90) erschien im Januar 1795 in der ersten Auflage von Schillers Zeitschrift Die Horen. Fichte schickte Schiller den Text am 10. Dezember 1794. Zum Corrigiren bin ich gar nicht gemacht, sondern lediglich zum Umarbeiten. Dazu war die Zeit zu kurz; ich habe daher aus zwei Vorlesungen über diesen Gegenstand bloß ausgezogen, wie das skeletartige Aussehen des Aufsatzes Ihnen gar wohl verrathen wird. Es thut mir leid über einen Gegenstand, der immer, und besonders jezt, bei der offenbaren Falschheit und Unlauterkeit fast aller unsrer gepriesnen Philosophen, ein Wort zu seiner Zeit wäre, so kurz wegeilen zu müßen; fast nur einen Tisch-Zettel geben zu können, Statt eines gesunden Gerichts. Vielleicht aber komme ich einmal wieder auf diesen Punkt zu reden.6 Fichte kam aber nicht mehr auf das Thema zurück, und die handschriftlichen Aufzeichnungen des Aufsatzes und der zwei Vorlesungen, auf denen er basiert, sind verloren. Ad b) Was die zwei Entwürfe von drei Vorlesungen über „Geist“ und „Buchstabe“ betrifft, wird der Inhalt des Ersten („Ich will untersuchen, wodurch Geist vom Buchstaben in der Philosophie überhaupt sich unterscheide“, ga ii/3, 295– 303) im zweiten Entwurf („Ueber Geist, u. Buchstaben in der Philosophie“, ga ii/3, 307–312) wieder aufgenommen. Beide sind Vorarbeiten zu den oben erwähnten Vorlesungen: „Erste Vorlesung. Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“, „Ueber den Unterschied des Geists vom Buchstaben. Zweite Vorlesung“, „Ueber 5 Erhalten sind auch sehr bedeutende Dokumente, die nie existiert hätten, wenn Fichtes Vorlesungen nicht so skandalös gewesen wären. Diese Dokumente sind nicht nur in Bezug auf den „Geist“ des Kollegs, sondern auch hinsichtlich des Temperaments des Autors und der Sitten des deutschen Universitätslebens besonders lehrreich: „Rede, welche der H. Professor Fichte am 25. November 1794 abends um 9 Uhr hielt, als er ein Vivat bekam“, ga ii/3, 383–384; „Des Prof. Fichte Verantwortung, welche dem Bericht des Senatus academici ad Serenissimum reg. Beygelegt worden ist“, ga i/4, 369–389; „J.G. Fichte’s Rechenschaft an das Publikum über seine Entfernung von Jena in dem Sommerhalbjahre 1795 (Geschrieben zu Osmannstädt im Juli 1795)“, ga ii/3, 413–447; „Erklärung gegen den Aufsatz: Verunglückter Versuch im christlichen Deutschlande eine Art von öffentlicher Vernunft-Religionsübung einzuführen, i. d. Journ. Eüdämonia. 2 B. 1. St. nebst beyläufiger Aufforderung an den Verleger der N. Allg. deutschen Bibliothek“, ga i/3, 273–288. 6 Brief an Schiller, Jena, den 10. Dez. 1794, ga iii/2, 227 u. ga i/3, 79.

356

barbosa

den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens in der Philosophie. Dritte Vorlesung“ (ga ii/3, 315–342). Die drei Handschriften wurden erst Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts entdeckt und veröffentlicht.7 Ad c) Der Text der Schlussvorlesung des ss 1794 wurde wahrscheinlich im August oder September dieses Jahres verfasst. Dank eines neuen Konflikts blieb er erhalten.8 Zu Beginn des ws sah sich Fichte erneut einem Vorwurf ausgesetzt. Da er unter der Woche keine geeignete Zeit für seine öffentlichen Vorlesungen fand, war die einzige Alternative, sie auf den Sonntagmorgen zu verlegen. Fichte begann das Kolleg erst am 9. November, also nach Beginn des Semesters. Die zweite Sitzung fand am 16. November statt. Das Jenaer Konsistorium protestierte noch am selben Tag stark. Am darauffolgenden Dienstag verurteilte das Weimarer Oberkonsistorium Fichtes „Unternehmen“ als „ein[en] intendirte[n] Schritt gegen den öffentlichen Landesgottesdienst“ (ga i/4, 374). Das Kolleg wurde untergesagt und Fichte musste sich verteidigen. Als Beweis, dass seine „moralischen Reden“ die besten Absichten haben – nämlich die „Bildung des Herzens zur Tugend“ (ga i/4, 392) –, fügte Fichte seiner „Verantwortung“ den Text der Schlussvorlesung des ss bei. Beide Dokumente erschienen 1797 – ohne Fichtes Einwilligung – in Blätter aus dem Archiv der Toleranz und Intoleranz als Bestandteile eines späten Dossiers über den Fall.9 Irrtümlicherweise wurde die Schlussvorlesung zunächst dem Wintersemester zugerechnet. Die ga gab das Material aus dieser Quelle wieder, korrigierte aber den Fehler.10 Erhalten ist außerdem eine Handschrift, die einen Teil der Schlussvorlesung enthält.11 Laut der ga verfasste Fichte seine „Verantwortung“ zwischen dem 27. November 1794, als er vom Senatus academici aufgefordert wurde, sich schriftlich zu verteidigen, und dem 8. Dezember, denn in einem Brief vom 9. Dezember teilte ihm Christian Gottlob Voigt mit, dass er den Text schon gelesen habe 7

8

9

10 11

J.G. Fichte, Über den Unterschied des Geistes und des Buchstabens in der Philosophie. Drei akademische Vorlesungen nach der Handschrift erstmalig herausgegeben v. S. Berger. Leipzig 1924. Siehe zu dieser grotesken Episode K. Fischer, Geschichte der neuern Philosophie. Fünfter Band. J.G. Fichte und seine Vorgänger. Heidelberg 1890, S. 278; X. Léon, Fichte et son temps, Bd. 1. Paris 1954, S. 299–315; M. Kühn, Fichte. Ein deutscher Philosoph 1762–1814. München 2012, S. 268–273. Vgl. „Eudämonische Wahrheiten gegen den Prof. Fichte zu Jena; beleuchtet durch die Acten über desselben moralische Sonntagsvorlesungen“, in: Blätter aus dem Archiv der Toleranz und Intoleranz. Ein freywilliger Beytrag zum Archiv der neuesten Kirchengeschichte. Erste Lieferung. Lübeck 1797, S. 120–190. „Die am Ende des Winters [Sommers] 1794. von Fichten gehaltene Schlußvorlesung als Beylage der Verantwortung“, ga i/4, 407–420. „[Schlusswort der Vorlesungen ueber die Bestimmung der Gelehrten. Bruchstück]“, ga ii/3, 343–353.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

357

(ga i/4, 383). Diese leichte Ungenauigkeit erklärt sich zum einen durch die Unkenntnis einer Schrift von Christian Gottfried Gruner gegen Fichte und zum anderen durch die Achtlosigkeit an einer Arbeit von Karl Hase. In seiner Sammlung von Dokumenten über den Streit um die Sonntagsvorlesungen hat Gruner Fichtes „Verantwortung“ einbezogen; aber anders als die Redaktion von Blätter aus dem Archiv der Toleranz und Intoleranz strich er eine Angabe, die ganz am Ende des Dokumentes zu finden ist, nicht: die Signatur des Autors mit Ort und Datum: „Jena, den 6. Dezember 1794“.12 Das Datum wurde auch von Hase erwähnt.13 Just in ebenjenem schwierigen Moment – das sei en passant gesagt – musste Fichte seiner Verpflichtung nachkommen, seinen Beitrag für die Horen fertigzustellen. Der Aufsatz „Ueber Belebung und Erhöhung des reinen Interesse für Wahrheit“ wurde am 10. Dezember an Schiller geschickt – also nur vier Tage nach der Abfertigung seiner „Verantwortung“. Die endgültige Entscheidung in diesem Streitfall fällte Herzog Carl August, der zuvor die Stellungnahme des Senatus academici akzeptiert hatte. Am 28. Januar 1795 verkündete er, dass Fichte „die Fortsetzung seiner moralischen Vorlesungen am Sonntag äussersten Falls nur in den Stunden, nach geendigten Nachmittags-Gottes-Dienst gestattet seyn solle“ (ga i/4, 388). Scheinbar zufrieden, führte Fichte seine Lehrtätigkeit sonntags zwischen 15 und 16 Uhr fort. Ad d) Geblieben ist von diesem Kolleg, das verspätet begann und bald beendet wurde, nur die Handschrift der ersten Vorlesung vom 9. November 1794. Bis 1971 unveröffentlicht14, ist sie das einzige Dokument, das von jener zweiten – und letzten – Vorlesungsreihe über „Moral für Gelehrte“ zeugt. Gewiss wollte Fichte diese fortsetzen, wie die alz bereits angekündigt hatte.15 Etwas von dem Inhalt der verlorenen Vorlesungen des ws 1794–1795 wurde von Fichte selbst wiedergegeben – und zwar aufgrund derselben bitteren Umstände, die ihn auch dazu zwangen, die Reihe aufzugeben.

ii Da dem Horen-Aufsatz zwei (verlorene) Vorlesungen entsprechen und da drei Vorlesungen über „Geist“ und „Buchstabe“ und eine weitere, die Schlussvorle-

12 13 14 15

C.G. Gruner, Ein paar Worte zur Belehrung, Beherzigung und Besserung des Herrn Exprofessors Fichte. Jena 1799, S. 49. K. Hase, Jenaisches Fichte-Büchlein. Leipzig 1856, S. 19, Anm. 23. „1ste Vorlesung. Im Winter-Halbjahr. [Von der Bestimmung der Gelehrten.]“, ga ii/3, 355– 367. Vgl. Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, Intelligenz-Blatt, Nr. 39, den 16. Ap. 1795, 308.

358

barbosa

sung des ss 1794, erhalten sind, hat man heutzutage das Material von sechs Sitzungen. Zählt man ferner die fünf im September 1794 als Buch veröffentlichen Vorlesungen dazu, steht das Material von elf Sitzungen zur Verfügung. Die ersten fünf waren die Folgenden: 1. „Ueber die Bestimmung des Menschen an sich“. 2. „Ueber die Bestimmung des Menschen in der Gesellschaft“. 3. „Ueber die Verschiedenheit der Stände in der Gesellschaft“. 4. „Ueber die Bestimmung des Gelehrten“. 5. „Prüfung der Rousseauschen Behauptungen über den Einfluss der Künste und Wissenschaften auf das Wohl der Menschheit“. Gemäß R. Lauth fanden nach der fünften Vorlesung noch zwei oder drei weitere statt. Fichte habe dann die drei Vorlesungen über Geist und Buchstabe16 und eine oder sogar zwei über das Interesse für die Wahrheit sowie die Schlussvorlesung gehalten. Die Inhalte der zwei oder drei Vorlesungen seien zu Beginn der Vorlesung „Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“ rekapituliert worden und wurden von Lauth so zusammengefasst: Der Gelehrte muss wissen, worin die Vollkommenheit des Menschengeschlechts besteht; er muss die Anlagen und Bedürfnisse desselben kennen. Dazu aber muss er Philosophie studieren. – Bekämpfung und Behebung der Vorurteile, die sich einem gründlichen Philosophiestudium entgegenstellen. (…) Das Vorurteile, man könnte sich im wirklichen Leben auch ohne die tiefsinnigen und spizfindigen Untersuchungen der Philosophie behelfen, ist durch den Aufweis zu entkräften, dass man die gewöhnlichen Geschäfte des Lebens allerdings ohne Philosophie betreiben könne, dass aber die höheren Stände, die der Kultur die Richtung geben, über sie wachen und sie befördern, dazu der philosophischen Erkenntnis bedürfen.17 Im „Vorwort“ zu diesem Material der ga bemerkt Lauth noch das Folgende: Wie viele Vorlesungen zwischen die fünfte (gedruckte) über Rousseaus Behauptungen über den Einfluss der Künste und Wissenschaften auf das

16

17

Deswegen vermutete Lauth, dass die Entwürfe „Ich will untersuchen“ und „Ueber Geist, u. Buchstaben in der Philosophie“ bzw. von Anfang Juli und Juli–August 1794 seien. ga ii/3, 292. R. Lauth, „Einleitung“, in: J.G. Fichte, Von den Pflichten der Gelehrten. Jenaer Vorlesungen 1794/95. Hg. von Reinhard Lauth, Hans Jacob und Peter K. Schneider. Hamburg 1971, S. xxvii.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

359

Wohl der Menschheit und die erste Vorlesung aus der Serie „Ueber den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens in der Philosophie“ gefallen sind, läßt sich leider nicht mehr genau bestimmen. Es müssen auf jeden Fall zwei, wenn nicht noch mehrere gewesen sein. Denn Fichte gibt in der Vorlesung „Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“ eine Rekapitulation der „letzten Stunde“ (…). Diese Vorlesung unmittelbar vor der Serie derjenigen „Ueber den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens“ schließt aber gedanklich nicht and die fünfte gedruckte an. Fichte gibt den Inhalt seiner zwischen diesen beiden liegenden Vorträge selbst in der „1ste[n] Vorlesung. Im Winter-Halb Jahr [1794–95]“ wie folgt an: „Es ist die Bestimmung des Gelehrten über [den] Fortgang der Kultur in der menschl. Gesellschaft zu wachen, ihn zu befördern, u. ihm seine Richtung zu geben. Um dieses zu vermögen, muss er zufördest wißen, worin die Vollkommenheit des Menschengeschlechts bestehe: er muß alle Anlagen, u. Bedürfniße deßelben kennen; u. für diese Absicht erwirbt er sich philosophische Kenntniße.“ Und in der Vorlesung „Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“ beginnt Fichte mit den Worten: „Ein Gelehrter soll unter andern Kenntnißen sich auch eine gewiße Kenntniß der Philosophie erwerben. Das ist der Punkt bei welchem wir einige Zeit stehen bleiben wollen. – Ich wollte die herrschendsten Vorurtheile heben, die sich einem gründl. Studium der Philosophie entgegensetzen; ich wollte im allgemeinen die Mittel angeben, durch welche man sich eine vollständige Kenntniß dieser Wißenschaft erwerben könne.“ Es fragt sich, wieviel Zeit und Vorlesungsstunden Fichte gebraucht hat, um diese Fragen zu erörtern.18 Lauth glaubt, dass Fichte etwa 12 bis 14 Sitzungen realisiert und das Kolleg in der Mitte oder am Ende August 1794 beendet habe.19 In der Annahme, das Ende des Kollegs habe „at the end of August“ stattgefunden, stellt Daniel Breazeale eine ähnliche Vermutung an: 1–5. The five lectures „Concerning the Scholar’s Vocation“, which were published by Fichte himself at the end of the semester 6–7 (?). One or more missing lectures 8–10. The three unpublished lectures „Concerning the Difference between the Spirit and Letter within Philosophy“

18 19

ga ii/3, 290–291. Ich selbst ging von dieser Chronologie aus. R. Barbosa, „Fichte e o ethos do erudito“, in: J.G. Fichte, O destino do erudito. Übers. R. Barbosa. São Paulo 2014, S. 109–111.

360

barbosa

11 (?). At least one missing lecture 12. The „concluding lecture“, which was published in an unauthorized form in 1797.20 Der Inhalt der verlorenen Vorlesungen, die unmittelbar nach der fünften gehalten worden wären – so nimmt Breazeale an –, wäre genau derjenige, den Lauth zusammengefasst hat.21 Beide Autoren sind im Übrigen der Überzeugung, dass eine der verlorenen Vorlesungen, die unmittelbar vor der Schlussvorlesung hätte stattfinden sollen, die Quelle des Horen-Aufsatzes war.22 Anders als Lauth und Breazeale vermutet Manfred Kühn, dass (a) Fichte das Kolleg „Anfang August 1794“ abschloss, (b) die Vorlesungen über das Interesse für die Wahrheit unmittelbar nach der fünften (über Rousseau) stattfanden und (c) Fichte sich in den folgenden und bis hin zur letzten Sitzung mit dem Unterschied zwischen Geist und Buchstabe beschäftigte.23 Kühn bemerkt, dass die zwei Vorlesungen über das Wahrheitsinteresse eine engere Verbindung mit den ersten fünf aufweisen, denn Fichte leitet das Interesse für die Wahrheit aus der schon in der ersten Vorlesung umrissenen Trieblehre ab. Kühn liegt richtig. Es sei daran erinnert, dass Fichte in seinen Ausführungen über das Interesse für die Wahrheit niemals auf den Unterschied zwischen Geist und Buchstabe Bezug nimmt. Die Schlussvorlesung des ss 1794 beginnt mit den folgenden Worten: „Ich habe in den vorhergehenden Vorlesungen gezeigt, worin der Geist, im Gegensatze der Anhänglichkeit an den Buchstaben überhaupt bestehe, und was besonders in der Philosophie sein Geschäft sey. Ich habe heute zu zeigen, durch welche Mittel man den Geist in sich zu entwickeln und zu stärken habe.“ (ga i/4, 411) „Fichte knüpft also unmittelbar an jene Vorlesungen an“, so Lauth, „in denen er 20

21

22

23

D. Breazeale, „Concerning the Difference between the Spirit and the Letter within Philosophy. Editor’s Preface“, in: J.G. Fichte, Early Philosophical Writings. Ithaca u. London 1988, S. 186–187. „On the evidence of Fichte’s various summaries of theier contents, these missing lectures dealt with the following issues: the need for the scholar to know what human perfection consists in and how to progress toward it; the need to learn this through the study of philosophy; the prejudices one must overcome before one can study philosophy; and the relation of philosophy to ordinary life.“ S. 186, Anm. 4. „Since one of the two lectures Fichte summarized in his essay ›On Stimulating and Increasing the Pure Interest in Truth‹ was the concluding lecture in the series, and since none of the other surviving lectures from the series deals with the topic of this essay, one must assume that at least one lecture intervened between the final ›Spirit and Letter‹ lecture and the surviving ›Concluding Lecture‹. Presumably too, the topic of at least one of those missing lectures was the ›truth drive‹.“ S. 187, Anm. 5. M. Kühn, a. a. O., S. 251.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

361

über den Unterschied des Geistes und Buchstabens gehandelt hatte.“ (ga i/4, 410) Lauth behauptet im Anschluss, dass der Gehalt des Horen-Aufsatzes dieser Schlussvorlesung weitgehend entspräche und dass diese eine der zwei Vorlesungen gewesen sei, die Fichte benutzt habe, um ihn zu verfassen. Dies stellt Lauth bereits im „ Vorwort“ zu diesem Aufsatz schon fest (ga i/3, 81). Selbst wenn es eine solche Entsprechung zwischen dem Aufsatz und der Schlussvorlesung tatsächlich gäbe, dürfte man daraus nicht schließen, dass die Vorlesungen über das Wahrheitsinteresse unmittelbar vor der Schlussvorlesung stattgefunden haben, da die Kontinuität zwischen dieser und den drei Vorlesungen über Geist und Buchstabe unbestreitbar ist. Das Tagebuch von Johann Smidt beseitigt jeden verbliebenen Zweifel. Fichte trug freitags von 18– 19 Uhr öffentlich vor. Am „Freytag den 11ten“ (Juli 1794) notierte Smidt: „Abends Publ[icum] bey Fichte – er las über Wahrheitsliebe“.24 Einige Wochen später trug er ein: „Freytag den 22ten“ (August) „wie gewöhnl. Abends 6–7 las Fichte über Buchst[abe] und Geist“.25 Diese Information legt nahe, dass Fichte sein Kolleg weder Anfang (Kühn) noch Mitte (Lauth) oder Ende (Breazeale und Lauth) August abgeschlossen hatte. Eine weitere wichtige Information wird kurz danach geliefert: „Freytag 26“ (September) „6–7 Morgens und Abends schloß Fichte.“ Das bedeutet, dass er morgens, von 6–7 Uhr, seine privaten (und täglichen) Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaftslehre und abends, von 18–19 Uhr, das wöchentliche Publicum beendet hatte. Smidt bemerkt außerdem: „[D]ie letzte öffentliche Vorlesung war außerordentlich hinreißend.“26 Faustino O. Coves und Manuel R. Valera27 gehen von derselben Chronologie aus, die Lauth und Breazeale skizzierten, nehmen aber einige Korrekturen vor. Sie erwähnen das Tagebuch von Smidt, das noch unbekannt war, als Lauth und Breazeale sich mit Fichtes Vorlesungen über den Gelehrten beschäftigten. Eigenartig ist aber, dass sie nicht darauf hinweisen, dass die Vorlesung vom 11. Juli die „Wahrheitsliebe“ zum Thema hatte. Smidts Tagebuch ermöglicht nicht nur die Bestimmung des Umfangs von Fichtes Kolleg. Es zeigt auch, dass das Wahrheitsinteresse nicht am Ende der Vorlesungsreihe steht, sondern bereits nach den ersten fünf Vorlesungen thematisiert wurde. Schematisch ergibt sich folgende Tabelle (das Sternchen kennzeichnet die von Smidt erwähnten Vorlesungen):

24 25 26 27

E. Fuchs, „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“, in: Fichte-Studien, 7, 1995, S. 176. Ebenda, S. 178. Ebenda, S. 179. F.O. Coves u. M.R. Valera, „Cronología de las lecciones públicas del curso sobre ›Moral para sabios‹“, in: J.G. Fichte, Algunas lecciones sobre el destino del sabio. Madrid 2002, S. 25–27.

362

barbosa

Sommersemester 1794: vom 19. Mai bis zum 26. September 1. 2.

„Ueber die Bestimmung des Menschen an sich“ – 23. Mai 1794.* „Ueber die Bestimmung des Menschen in der Gesellschaft“ – 30. Mai. 3. „Ueber die Verschiedenheit der Stände in der Gesellschaft“ – 6. Juni.* ---- Pfingstferien: vom 8. bis zum 14. Juni. 4. „Ueber die Bestimmung des Gelehrten“ – 13. Juni. Anklage des „Jakobinismus“. 5. „Prüfung der Rousseauschen Behauptungen über den Einfluss der Künste und Wissenschaften auf das Wohl der Menschheit“ – 27. Juni.* 6. […] – 4. Juli. 7. Über Wahrheitsliebe – 11. Juli.* 8. […] – 18. Juli. 9. […] – 25. Juli. 10. [Über die Vorteile gegen das Studium der Philosophie?] – 1. August. 11. [„Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“ ?] – 8. August. 12. [„Ueber den Unterschied des Geists vom Buchstaben“ ?] – 15. August.* 13. [„Ueber den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens in der Philosophie“ ?] – 22. August.* 14. […] – 29. August. 15. […] – 5. September. 16. […] – 12. September. 17. […] – 19. September. 18. Schlussvorlesung – 26. September.* Kurz danach und als Antwort auf die Anklage des Jakobinismus erschienen die fünf ersten Sitzungen als Buch (Einige Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten. Jena und Leipzig, bei Christian Ernst Gabler, 1794) zur Michaelis-Messe.

iii Es ist möglich, dass die sechste Vorlesung (vom 4. Juli) schon vom Thema „Wahrheitsliebe“ handelte. Denkbar ist zudem, dass diese und die siebte (vom 11. Juli) die zwei Vorlesungen waren, aus denen Fichte den Horen-Aufsatz verfasste. In diesem Fall ist zu beachten, dass er sich dazu entschloss, die unmittelbare Fortsetzung der ersten fünf schon im Buch erschienenen Vorlesungen zu veröffentlichen.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

363

Am 22. August bemerkte Smidt, dass Fichte „wie gewöhnl.“ über Buchstabe und Geist vorlas. Es wird also klar, dass diese Sitzung nicht die erste zu diesem Thema war. Andererseits macht Fichte – just am Anfang der ersten der drei erhaltenen Vorlesungen über Geist und Buchstabe – darauf aufmerksam, dass er in der vorausgegangenen Sitzung über die Vorurteile gegen das Studium der Philosophie gesprochen habe. Ich habe in der lezten Stunde ein gewöhnliches Vorurtheil gegen die Philosophie zu entkräften gesucht: dasjenige, da man meint: Philosophie sey überhaupt von keinem Nutzen, u. man könne ohne die tiefsinnigen, u. spizfindigen Untersuchungen, die besonders die neuere Philosophie anstellt, u. anstellen muß, sich gar wohl behelfen. (…) Ich hätte noch manches Vorurtheil gegen [die] Philosophie zu berühren, u. zu berichtigen: aber ich finde, daß ich sie alle in ihrer gemeinsamen Wurzel angreife, u. tödte; ich finde, daß ich alle Regeln über das Studium der Philosophie so ziemlich umfaße, wenn ich einige Betrachtungen mit Ihnen anstelle, über den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens in der Philosophie: und wenn es mir gelingt, Ihnen diesen Unterschied deutlich, u. fühlbar zu machen.28 Da es möglich ist, dass Fichte mehr als zwei Sitzungen über „Wahrheitsliebe“ abhielt, ist es auch möglich, dass er unmittelbar zur Kritik der Vorurteile gegen die Philosophie überging – und damit zu einer umfassenden Reflexion über den Unterschied zwischen Geist und Buchstabe in der Philosophie. Denn mittels einer solchen Reflexion hoffte er, auch die übrigen noch vorherrschenden Vorurteile anzugreifen. Smidts Eintrag vom 22. August entspricht sicher nicht der ersten Vorlesung über das Thema („Ueber Geist, u. Körper überhaupt“) und wahrscheinlich ebenso wenig der zweiten („Ueber den Unterschied des Geists vom Buchstaben“), obwohl es nicht ausgeschlossen ist, dass es um die dritte („Ueber den Unterschied des Geistes, u. des Buchstabens in der Philosophie“) geht. Der Inhalt der Schlussvorlesung und Fichtes Bemerkungen zu Beginn der ersten Vorlesung im ws 1794–1795 lassen getrost vermuten, dass das Motiv des Unterschieds zwischen Geist und Buchstabe bis zum Ende des Kollegs behandelt wurde. Wissenswert ist auch, dass die gesamte prüfende Betrachtung des Themas aus einer in der vierten Vorlesung formulierten These entwickelt wurde. Diese postuliert, dass die Gelehrsamkeit aus der Einheit von drei Erkenntnisarten besteht. 28

ga ii/3, 315.

364

barbosa

Im Menschen sind mancherlei Triebe und Anlagen, und es ist die Bestimmung jedes Einzelnen, alle seine Anlagen, so weit er nur irgend kann, auszubilden. (…) Die Sorge für diese gleichförmige Entwickelung aller Anlagen des Menschen sezt zuvörderst die Kenntniß seiner sämmtlichen Anlagen, die Wissenschaft aller seiner Triebe und Bedürfnisse, die geschehene Ausmessung seines ganzen Wesens voraus. Aber diese vollständige Kenntniß des ganzen Menschen gründet sich selbst auf eine Anlage, welche entwickelt werden muss; denn es giebt allerdings einen Trieb im Menschen, zu wissen, und insbesondere dasjenige zu wissen, was ihm Noth thut. Die Entwickelung dieser Anlage aber erfordert alle Zeit und alle Kräfte eines Menschen; giebt es irgendein gemeinsames Bedürfniss, welches dringend fordert, dass ein besonderer Stand seiner Befriedigung sich widme, so ist es dieses.29 Diese allgemeine und abstrakte Kenntnis von allen menschlichen Anlagen und Bedürfnissen ist sicherlich eine notwendige aber nicht hinreichende Bedingung für die Entwicklung und Befriedigung unserer grundlegenden Triebe. Mit jener Kenntniß der Bedürfnisse muß demnach zugleich die Kenntniß der Mittel vereinigt seyn, wie sie befriediget werden können (…). Die Kenntniß der ersteren Art gründet sich auf reine Vernunftsätze, und ist philosophisch; die von der zweiten zum Theil auf Erfahrung, und ist insofern philosophisch-historisch (nicht bloß historisch; denn ich muss ja die Zwecke, die sich nur philosophisch erkennen lassen, auf die in der Erfahrung gegebenen Gegenstände beziehen, um die letztern als Mittel zur Erreichung der ersteren beurtheilen zu können). – Diese Kenntniß soll der Gesellschaft nützlich werden (…).30 Aber um diese Kenntnis wirklich gesellschaftlich nutzbar zu machen, muss man wissen „auf welcher bestimmten Stufe der Kultur diejenige Gesellschaft, deren Mitglied man ist, in einem bestimmten Zeitpunkte stehe, – welche bestimmte Stufe sie von dieser aus zu ersteigen und welcher Mittel sie sich dafür zu bedienen habe.“31 Die verschiedenen kulturellen Stufen, die das Menschengeschlecht in seiner Entwicklung erreichen soll, können a priori bestimmt werden;

29 30 31

BdG, ga i/3, 51 u. 52. BdG, ga i/3, 52–53. BdG, ga i/3, 53.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

365

aber die Stufe angeben, auf welcher es in einem bestimmten Zeitpunkte wirklich stehe, das kann man schlechterdings nicht aus bloßen Vernunftgründen; darüber muß man die Erfahrung befragen; man muß die Begebenheiten der Vorwelt – aber mit einem durch Philosophie geläuterten Blicke – erforschen; man muß seine Augen rund um sich herum richten, und seine Zeitgenossen beobachten. Dieser lezte Theil der für die Gesellschaft nothwendigen Kenntniß ist demnach blos historisch. Die drei angezeigten Arten der Erkenntniß, vereinigt gedacht – und ausser der Vereinigung stiften sie nur geringen Nutzen – machen das aus, was man Gelehrsamkeit nennt, oder wenigstens ausschliessend nennen sollte; und derjenige, der sein Leben der Erwerbung dieser Kenntnisse widmet, heißt ein Gelehrter.32 Der Anspruch, dass „jeder einzelne (…), nach jenen drei Arten der Erkenntniß, den ganzen Umfang des menschlichen Wissens umfassen“ könne, wäre sinnlos: „Einzelne mögen sich einzelne Theile jenes Gebietes abstecken; aber jeder sollte seinen Theil nach jenen drei Ansichten: philosophisch, philosophisch historisch und bloß historisch, bearbeiten.“33 Diese Aufforderung impliziert nicht nur, dass die Studenten aller Fakultäten mit philosophischen Problemen vertraut gemacht werden sollten, sondern auch, dass sie in der Lage sein sollten, mit allen Problemen philosophisch umzugehen. Denn wer lernt, mit allen Problemen philosophisch umzugehen, lernt, sie nach dem Universalitätsanspruch einer dreifachen Vermittlung zu betrachten, die sich von der reinen zur empirischen Kenntnis streckt. Der Zweck aller dieser Kenntnisse nun ist der oben angezeigte: vermittelst derselben zu sorgen, daß alle Anlagen der Menschheit gleichförmig, stets aber fortschreitend, sich entwickeln: und hieraus ergiebt sich denn die wahre Bestimmung des Gelehrtenstandes: es ist die oberste Aufsicht über den wirklichen Fortgang des Menschengeschlechtes im allgemeinen, und die stete Beförderung dieses Fortgangs.34 An dieser Vorgabe sollte sich die akademische Bildung orientieren; und und gerade deswegen lässt sie sich als eine Bildung durch die Wissenschaft sehen – also durch das, was die Wissenschaft der Wissenschaft überhaupt wäre: die Philosophie als Wissenschaftslehre. Es ist kein Zufall, dass einige der eloquentesten 32 33 34

BdG, ga i/3, 53. BdG, ga i/3, 54. BdG, ga i/3, 54.

366

barbosa

Passagen der vierten Vorlesung schon vom Pathos des Gelehrten für die Wahrheit handeln, also für das privilegierte Objekt all seines Interesses und all seiner Liebe. Genau diesem Gedanken widmete Fichte im Juli wenigstens zwei Vorlesungen, auf Basis derer er später den Horen-Aufsatz verfassen sollte. Was in der vierten Vorlesung implizit behauptet ist, wird in den nachfolgenden Vorlesungen explizit und thematisch zentral: die Bildung durch die Wissenschaft als Bildung des Geistes durch den Geist. Fichte führte aus, es sei absurd, sich zu wünschen, dass alle Menschen zu Philosophen werden sollten, aber nicht, dass sich alle Gelehrten philosophisch orientieren sollten. Gerade deswegen könne nur das tiefe Verständnis des Geistes der Philosophie die Vorurteile, die diese Wissenschaft noch involvieren, beseitigen. Hier lägen das Problem und die Aufforderung an Philosophen und Nicht-Philosophen begründet. Die Bestimmung des Gelehrten und der Geist der Philosophie seien unzertrennlich eins. In den Vorlesungen verteidigte Fichte die Philosophie und plädierte für die Notwendigkeit einer philosophischen Bildung, die zur moralischen und beruflichen Befähigung der Studenten beitragen sollte, die bald bürgerliche Posten oder Ämter übernehmen würden. Die gedankliche Überleitung zum Problem des Unterschieds zwischen Geist und Buchstabe – überhaupt und in der Philosophie – entsteht in diesem Kontext und aus diesem Grund. Die Sitzungen waren entsprechend der Forderung nach einer systematischen Koordination der drei Erkenntnisarten sehr gut gegliedert. Diese Forderung wurde also zu einem Leitfaden für die folgenden Schritte des Kollegs. Fichte beschäftigte sich aber vorrangig mit der ersten – der philosophischen – Erkenntnisart und weniger mit der Zweiten, die die notwendigen Mittel für die Stärkung des Geistes beschreibt. Darüber sprach er nur in der Schlussvorlesung. Und als Fichte die Fortsetzung des Kollegs plante, wählte er die dritte Erkenntnisart als Hauptthema, wie direkt zu Beginn der ersten Vorlesung des ws 1794–1795 erläutert wird: Es ist die Bestimmung des Menschen überhaupt sich ins unendliche zu vervollkommen. Auf diesen End-Zweck geht auch alle gesellschaftl. Verbindung unter den Menschen aus. Es ist die Bestimmung des Gelehrten über diesen Fortgang der Kultur in der menschl. Gesellschaft zu wachen, ihn zu befördern, u. ihm seine Richtung zu geben. Um dieses zu vermögen, muß er zuförderst wißen, worin die Vollkommenheit des Menschengeschlechts bestehe: er muß alle Anlagen, u. Bedürfniße deßelben kennen; u. für diese Arbeit erwirbt er sich philosophische Kenntniße. Wir haben im vorigen HalbJahre gemeinschaftlich untersucht, wie er sich diese Kenntniße am besten erwerben könne, u. woraus er bei denselben vorzüglich zu sehen habe. – Der Gelehrte muß ferner die Mittel ken-

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

367

nen, durch welche jene Anlagen entwickelt, jene Bedürfniße befriedigt werden, u. dazu bedarf er philosophisch-historischer Kenntniße. Er muß endlich bestimmt wißen, auf welche Stuffe der Kultur gerade sein Zeitalter stehe; und dazu bedarf er einer bloß historischen Erkenntniß. Ich werde demnach in diesem Halben Jahre davon zu reden haben, welche zweckmäßige historische Kenntniße der Gelehrte einzusammeln habe.35 Fichtes öffentliche Vorlesungen waren eine Art work in progress, denn er pflegte sie in derselben Woche zu schreiben, in der er sie auch hielt.36 Natürlich bedeutet das nicht, dass Fichte ohne eine gute Planung arbeitete. Wie es scheint, verhinderte der Ordnungssinn aber nie die Spontaneität des Geistes, seine Aufmerksamkeit für die Reaktionen seiner Zuhörer und für Korrekturen seines Kurses, die im Wintersemester 1794–1795 tatsächlich vorgenommen wurden.

iv Smidts Tagebuch ist auch sehr nützlich, um Gliederung und Chronologie des Publicums im ws 1794–1795 nachzuvollziehen. Aufgrund eines neuen Konflikts – diesmal mit den Studentenorden – dauerte das gerade wieder aufgenommene Kolleg nur einige Wochen. In einem Brief an Reinhold vom 2. Juli 1795 fasste Fichte die Ereignisse zusammen: Ich war kaum nach Jena gekommen, so versammelten sich die guten,37 theils durch meine öffentl. Vorlesungen ermuntert, theils, weil man von Ihrem Nachfolger Ihre Denkart voraussetzte, um mich; klagten mir den tiefen Schaden und suchten bei mir Hülfe. Ich machte meine Vorlesungen noch specieller; und es schien ein sehr guter Geist sich zu verbreiten. Mehrern Ordens-Mitbrüdern, die mich besuchten, redete ich zu, ihre schädlichen Verbindungen aufzugeben: in dem ich unter der Hand 35 36 37

„1ste Vorlesung. Im Winter-Halbjahr. [Von der Bestimmung der Gelehrten.]“, ga ii/3, 357. Vgl. Brief von Fichte an Goethe, Jena, den 21 Juni 1794, ga iii/2, 143. Wie Léon erklärt, waren „die guten“ Studenten wie Johann Smidt, die kurz nach Fichtes Ankunft in Jena die Gesellschaft der freien Männer und anderen philosophischen und ästhetischen Verbindungen begründeten. Fichte hatte großen Einfluss auf diese Studenten, deren modus vivendi er für des echten ethos der gelehrten Bildung und der richtig verstandenen akademischen Freiheit repräsentativ hielt. Sie besuchten seine Vorlesungen, das conversatorium und sein Haus. Vgl. X. Léon, a. a. O., S. 317; zum Konflikt mit der Orden, S. 316–336. Vgl. auch L. Beutin, „Fichte und Johann Smidt“, in: Bremisches Jahrbuch, 32, 1929, S. 233–242.

368

barbosa

mit unserm würdigen Curator, Geheimen Rath Voigt, die Mittel verabredete, den gereiften Entschluß recht nüzlich zu machen. Es gelangt früher, ehe ich es hoffte. Eines Morgens38 kamen zwei Senioren mit der Bitte, daß ich sogleich und auf der Stelle allen OrdensMitgliedern den EntsagungsEyd abnehmen sollte. Ich, dazu nicht berechtigt – sie, meinen Vorschlag, sich an den akademischen Senat zu wenden, weit wegwerfend – sendete sogleich an das Ministerium,39 und bat um Commißion. Die Sache muste erst die bekannten 4. Höfe durchlaufen.40 Meine Leute blieben willig; erklärten einmüthig Ihren Vorsatz, ihre Verbindung aufzuheben; nur der Orden der Unitisten trat zurük.41 Die andern beiden42 überlieferten mir die Verzeichniße Ihrer Mitglieder, und ihre Ordensbücher unter Siegel; berechtigten mich, in Ihrem Namen bei den Herzögen um eine Commißion anzusuchen, und dieser die Papiere versiegelt zur Verbrennung nach vorheriger Einsicht des NamensVerzeichnißes, um Ihnen den Eyd abzunehmen, zu übergeben, wenn sie völlige Amnestie erhielten. Die Commißion zögerte abermals. Der Orden der Unitisten streute während dieser Zeit die schändlichsten Gerüchte über mich aus: ich stürze die Orden, um einen Illuminaten Orden auf ihren Trümmern zu errichten, habe die mir anvertrauten Papiere an die Höfe gesannt, (worüber ich, bei dem Anscheine einer solchen Anforderung, gegen die Höfe mich mit der derben Rundheit, die ein solches Anmuthen verdiente, erklärt habe). Die Unitisten griffen mich indeßen auch thätlich an: Hunderte von Studenten stellten sich für mich in’s Gewehr; welches ich ernstlich verbat. Die Commißion kam;43 ich ließ die OrdensMitglieder zu mir kommen, und sie die uneröftneten Siegel anerkennen; darauf schworen sie ihren EntsagungsEid; u. man hielt ihnen alles, und mehr noch, als man ihnen versprochen.44 Aber die Unitisten ließ man ungestraft trozen (sie existiren bis diese Stunde, ohne Untersuchung) Die aufgelös’ten Orden traten nach einem solchen Beispiele wieder zusammen. Doch haben nicht diese, und kein andrer Student, mich je beleidigt. Nur die Unitisten haben mich 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

„Ende November 1794“ (ga, Amn.). „Fichte sandte Anfang Dezember den Studenten Johann Smidt nach Weimer zum Geheimen Rat Voigt. Vergl. Brief Nr. 251.“ (ga, Amn.). Weimar, Gotha, Coburg und Meiningen. „im Dezember 1794“ (ga, Amn.). Die „Constantisten“ und die „Schwarzen Brüder“. „Am 8. Januar 1795“ (ga, Amn.). „Die Schwarzen Brüder mit 22 Mitgliedern und die Constantisten mit 19 Mitgliedern lösten sich am 9. und 10. Januar vor der Untersuchungskommission unter Auslieferung ihrer Skripturen auf“ (ga, Amn.).

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

369

seitdem immerfort auf die schändlichste Weise, verfolgt. – Nachdem mir zum zweiten male die Fenster eingeworfen worden,45 mein alter Greis, mein SchwiegerVater dadurch seinem Tode nahe gebracht, und meine gute Frau ihre Gesundheit dadurch warscheinlich unwiederbringlich verlohren, erklärte ich dem Senat durch ein förmliches Schreiben, daß ich nicht gesonnen sey, dies fernerhin zu leiden, und an einer Verfaßung den entfernsten Antheil zu nehmen, wo dergleichen Dinge ungestraft blieben. Man gab mir eine unbestimmte Antwort: und die Fenster wurden mir abermals von 3. Unitisten, unter den schändlichsten Schimpfworten, eingeworfen. Ich ging an den Hof,46 und erklärte, daß ich ohne Genugthuung nicht länger in Jena bleiben werde; und um dies zu erweisen, diesen Sommer auf das Land gehen; überhaupt schlechterdings nicht Antheil an der Universität nehmen werde, bis es, nicht für mich, sondern allgemeine Sicherheit daselbst gebe. Der Senat erhielt ein geschärftes Rescript; konnte nunmehro wohl etwas entdecken, was er voher nie gekonnt hatte; stattete einen verläumderischen, und lügenhaften Bericht ab; die drei Thäter wurden entfernt, dem Senat Befehl gegeben, es an mich zu berichten, und ich antwortete ihm, indem ich ihn der Lüge, und Verläumdung verdientermaaßen bezüchtigte. – So steht gegenwärtig die Sache. Die Höfe, welche alles nur zu wohl kennen, billigen mein ganzes Verfahren gar sehr.47 Wer in Jena unreines Herzens, und seiner Schalkheit sich bewußt ist, fürchtet mich, und thut alles, um durch das Gift der Verläumdung, und Lüge mich auf immer zu unterdrücken. Aber wird ihnen nicht gelingen. Ich gehe, was auch daraus erfolgen möge, nicht nach Jena zurük, bis völlige Sicherheit, und gute Policey daselbst ist; darauf kann sich das ganze Publikum sicherlich verlaßen. Jezt lebe ich sehr glüklich in Osmanstedt. Ich autorisire Sie nicht nur, sondern erzuche Sie auch, diese Nachrichten in Ihrem Cirkeln zu verbreiten. Ich hoffe in Kurzem sie authentisch bekannt zu machen.48 Tatsächlich verfasste Fichte ein ausführliches Memoire über den Fall – „J.G. Fichte’s Rechenschaft an das Publikum über seine Entfernung von Jena in dem 45 46 47

48

„Nächtliche Überfälle auf Fichtes Haus erfolgten in der Nacht des 1. Januars und des 15. Februar 1795“ (ga, Amn.). „Am 9. April“ (ga, Amn.). Während Fichte für die Kühnheit, seine Vorlesungen auf sonntags zu verlegen, beschämt war, leistete er einen großen Dienst am Hof durch die Bekämpfung der Orden. Gemäß Kühn hätte er als ein „Instrument der Regierung“ unfreiwillig gehandelt. Vgl. M. Kühn, a. a. O., S. 273–287. Brief an Reinhold, Osmannstädt, den 2. Juli 1795, ga iii/2, 349–351.

370

barbosa

Sommerhalbjahre 1795 (Geschrieben zu Osmannstädt im Juli 1795)“ –, das auf Ersuchen seiner Frau und Voigts nicht veröffentlicht wurde. Im Bericht über die Umstände, unter denen er am Anfang Februar 1795 seine Vorlesungen wieder aufgenommen hatte, erwähnte Fichte die Gründe, die dazu geführt hatten, dass er die Ziele seiner „moralischen Reden“ veränderte. Zwei Orden waren aufgelöst, und es war zu erwarten, daß der dritte sich entweder gleichfalls freiwillig auflösen, oder mit Gewalt zerstreut werden würde. Um die Wiederherstellung derselben unmöglich zu machen, oder wenigstens zu erschweren, war, so glaubte ich, nur noch das zu thun, daß man die Begriffe der Studirenden über dergleichen Verbindungen berichtigte. Ich beschloß meine öffentlichen Vorlesungen, in denen ich ohnedies ähnliche Gegenstände abzuhandeln hatte, zu diesem Zweck anzuwenden.49 Fichte redete aber nicht von „eigentlichen akademischen Orden“, sondern „blos über geheime Verbindungen im Allgemeinen“ (ga ii/3, 431). In einem Brief an Voigt wurde er noch deutlicher und teilte seine Pläne mit: Ich rede in meinen öffentlichen Vorlesungen jetz von geheimen Orden überhaupt, werde zur Untersuchung des Begriffs von der akademischen Freiheit, und der akademischen Orden insbesondre übergehen; gedenke auch diese Vorlesungen – sey es auch nur zu einem Zeugniße über mich – drucken laßen, und dadurch den akademischen Orden einen neuen heftigen Streich zu versetzen. Vor allen Dingen bezweke ich dadurch (durch den mündlichen Vortrag) den Vortheil, die öffentliche Meinung zu bestimmen, die wankenden zu befestigen, u. in uneingenommenen die Orden mit Schande u. Verachtung zu bedeken.50 Fichte schrieb diesen Brief am 16. Februar 1795. Am Vortag – einem Sonntag – trug Smidt in seinem Tagebuch ein: „Nachmittags 3–4 las Fichte über Orden – Abends 6–11 Concert und Clubb ich saß bey Fichte und Ludwig.“51 Der zweite Angriff der Unitisten kam danach, wie Fichte später erzählte. „Dennoch wurden den dritten Sonntag, da ich über diesen Gegenstand“ – also über die Orden – „geredet, meiner Frau beim Herausgehen aus dem gewöhnlichen Akademischen Clubb auf offener Straße beim Lichte mehrerer Laternen Schänd49 50 51

„Rechenschaft an das Publikum“, ga ii/3, 430–431. Brief an Voigt, Jena, den 16. Febr. 1795, ga iii/2, 256. E. Fuchs, „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“, S. 191. Über den „Club“, fg 7, 17.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

371

lichkeiten zugerufen, und gleich, nachdem wir zu Hause angekommen waren, meine Fenster eingeworfen.“52 Überzeugt, dass es unmöglich geworden war, in Sicherheit zu leben, entschloss sich Fichte, sein Publicum zu beenden. Es gab aber auch andere Gründe, die hierbei eine Rolle spielten. Ich setzte übrigens, wie ich auch dem Herrn Prorektor erklärt hatte, meine Vorlesungen über geheime Verbindungen fort. Indeß schien ich zu bemerken, daß meine Feinde gesiegt hatten; daß diese Vorlesungen keinen Eindruck mehr machten, kurz, daß der Geist des Ganzen sich sichtbar verstimme. Die Gründe sind bekannt, und es ist hier nicht der Ort, sie anzugeben. Ich bedurfte gegen den Schluß des Halbjahrs meiner Zeit zu Endigung dreier Collegien, und zweier Schriften, die ich unter den Händen hatte, nothiger, als zu einer Arbeit, die ich vor der Hand für unfruchtbar halten mußte; und stellte darum diese Vorlesungen bald ganz ein.53 Wie Fichte erklärte, beendete er „jene Vorlesungen über die Ordensverbindungen wohl vier Wochen vor Endigung des Halbjahrs“ (ga ii/3, 441). Die Schlussfolgerung, dass Fichte das Kolleg am 3. Februar 1795 wieder aufgenommen habe,54 ist unsinnig, denn der fragliche Tag war ein Dienstag und kein Sonntag. Ferner wurde Fichte über die Entscheidung des Herzogs offiziell durch eine Mitteilung des Prorektors der Universität vom 4. Februar informiert (ga i/4, 388–389). Tatsächlich fand die Wiederaufnahme der Vorlesungen am darauffolgenden Sonntag statt, wie Smidt eintrug: „Sonntag den 8 Von 3–4 hielt Fichte zuerst wieder seine öffentliche Vorlesung – er sprach über Orden“.55 Der zweite Angriff der Unitisten geschah wiederum eine Woche später am Sonntag, den 15. Februar. Und da das Semester am 27. März – einem Freitag – endete, stellte Fichte seine Vorlesungen wirklich „vier Wochen vor Endigung des Halbjahrs“ ein. Aus diesem Grund – und gegenteilig zu dem, was Lauth präsumierte (ga i/4, 389) – gibt es keinen Widerspruch zwischen der vollständigen Dokumentation des Falls und Fichtes „Rechenschaft an das Publikum“. Denn der 52 53

54 55

„Rechenschaft an das Publikum“, ga ii/3, 431–432. „Rechenschaft an das Publikum“, ga ii/3, 433–434. – Fichte bezieht sich hier auf seine Kollegien über „theoretische Philosophie“, „praktische Philosophie“ und „Logik und Metaphysik oder Vorbereitung zur Transcendentalphilosophie nach Platners Aphorismen“ (Vgl. E. Fuchs, „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“, S. 181) bzw. auf die Bücher Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre (1794–1795) und Grundriss des Eigenthümlichen der Wissenschaftslehre, in Rücksicht auf das theoretische Vermögen (1795). Vgl. K. Fischer, a. a. O., S. 278 und X. Léon, a. a. O., S. 315. E. Fuchs, „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“, S. 190.

372

barbosa

„dritte Sonntag“, auf den er sich bezog, entspricht dem dritten Sonntag im Februar (und zwar dem 15. Februar, als er weiter über die Orden vortrug und den zweiten Angriff der Unitisten erlitt) und nicht einer dritten Sitzung oder Woche des Kollegs. Aufgrund dieser Verwirrung glaubte Lauth, dass Fichte der offiziellen Erlaubnis vorgegriffen (über die er inoffiziell schon informiert gewesen sein soll) und die Vorlesungen am 1. Februar wieder aufgenommen hatte.56 Nichts spricht dafür. Dank des Zeugnisses von Smidt und von Fichte selbst darf man schließen, dass es nach der Wiederaufnahme der Vorlesungen nur drei Sitzungen gab – nämlich am 8., 15. und 22. Februar;57 und da Fichte nur zwei Mal vor der Untersagung seiner „moralischen Reden“ das Podium betrat, also am 9. und 16. November 1794, bestand die gesamte Reihe nicht aus mehr als fünf Sitzungen.58 Ein Eintrag von Smidts Tagebuch lautet: „Sonntag den 22 Nachmittags 3–4 las Fichte publice über Orden, er sprach sehr freymüthig über seine letzten Affairen“.59 Dies war die letzte Vorlesung. Zumal der Streit um die Sonntagsvorlesungen und der Konflikt mit den Orden sich zeitlich teilweise überschnitten, sind die zentralen Momente der Ereignisse in der folgenden Chronologie aufgeführt. Die von Smidt erwähnten Sitzungen sind mit einem Sternchen markiert. Wintersemester 1794–1795: vom 13. Oktober bis zum 27. März 1. Vorlesung (die einzig erhaltene) – 9. November. 2. Vorlesung – 16. November* Am 21. November wird das Kolleg untersagt. 56

57

58 59

ga i/4, 389 und ga i/3, 5, Anm. 14. Über Kuno Fischers Vermutung, derzufolge Fichte das Kolleg am 3. Februar wieder aufgenommen habe, bemerkt Lauth am Ende der Anm. 14: „Vermutlich hat Fischer geglaubt, Fichte habe am 8. Febr. wieder zu lesen begonnen; infolge eines Setzfehlers wurde dann aus dem 3. ein 8.“ Seltsamerweise findet sich hier ein Setzfehler. Den richtigen Text liest man in der Meiner-Ausgabe: „Vermutlich hat Fischer geglaubt (…); infolge eines Setzfehlers wurde dann aus der 8 eine 3. – Offiziell wurde Fichte vom Prorektor der Universität die Entscheidung des Herzogs erst am 4. Febr. mitgeteilt. (Akad.-Ausg. iii, 2, S. 250/51.) Sollte Fichte nicht inoffiziell schon vorher davon gewußt haben, so hätte er doch erst am 8. Febr. Wieder zu lesen begonnen.“ R. Lauth, „Einleitung“, in: J.G. Fichte, Von den Pflichten der Gelehrten. Jenaer Vorlesungen 1794/95, S. lxi, Anm 68. Vgl. E. Fuchs, „Verzeichnis der Lehrveranstaltungen, Predigten und Reden J.G. Fichtes in chronologischer Folge“, in: M. Götze (Hg.), Philosophie als Denkwerkzeug: zur Aktualität transzendentalphilosophischer Argumentation. Festschrift für Albert Mues zum 60. Geburtstag. Würzburg 1998, S. 61. Vgl. auch ga ii/17, 350, Amn. 3. E. Fuchs, „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“, S. 191.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

373

---- 23. November. Ende November kommen Senioren der Constantisten und der Schwarzen Brüder zu Fichte. Anfang der Verhandlungen für den Entsagungseid. ---- 30. November. Am 6. Dezember unterzeichnet Fichte seine „Verantwortung“. ---- 7. Dezember. 10. Dezember: Fichte schickt Schiller den Aufsatz „Ueber Belebung und Erhöhung des reinen Interesse für Wahrheit“. ---- 14. Dezember. ---- 21. Dezember. ---- 28. Dezember. Weihnachtsferien. Silvester: Erster Angriff der Unitisten auf Fichtes Haus. ---- 4. Januar 1795. Weihnachtsferien. 9. und 10. Januar: Entsagungseid der Constantisten und der Schwarzen Brüder. ---- 11. Januar. ---- 18. Januar. ---- 25. Januar. ---- 1. Februar. Am 4. Februar wird Fichte über die Erlaubnis, das Kolleg fortzusetzen, offiziell informiert. 3. Vorlesungen: über die geheimen Orden überhaupt – 8. Februar* 4. Vorlesung: über die geheimen Orden überhaupt – 15. Februar* Zweiter Angriff der Unitisten. 5. Vorlesung: über die akademische Freiheit und die Studentenorden (?) – 22. Februar* Fichte beendet das Kolleg. ---- 1. März. ---- 8. März. ---- 15. März ---- 22. März. – Ende des ws: Freitag, den 27. März.

v Der Band mit den fünf ersten Vorlesungen des ss erschien Ende September – also zur Michaelismesse – 1794. Fichte wollte den ganzen Vorlesungszyklus veröffentlichen, denn das Buch sei, wie weiter oben dargelegt, nur „der Eingang in ein Ganzes, das der Verfasser vollenden, und zu seiner Zeit dem Publicum

374

barbosa

vorlegen will.“ (BdG, ga i/3, 25) Wiederum wurde das Erscheinen eines neuen Buches angekündigt: „Fichte, J.G. über Buchstaben und Geist in der Philosophie. 8º. Jena und Leipzig, bei C.E. Gabler.“60 Zweifellos legte Fichte großen Wert auf seine Reflexionen über Geist und Buchstabe in der Philosophie, aber es gibt keine weitere Information über dieses Buch. Lauth vermutete folgendes: „Fichte hat also wahrscheinlich zunächst an eine Fortsetzung der Publikation seiner Vorlesungen gedacht, oder der Verleger wollte ihn auf diese Weise dazu veranlassen.“ (ga ii/3, 292) Es ist auch zu beachten, dass der neue Beitrag, den Fichte im Juli 1795 aus seinem Refugium in Osmannstädt für die Zeitschrift Die Horen verfasste, von genau diesem Thema handelte. Sein Titel lautete: „Über Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie. In einer Reihe von Briefen“. Aus redaktionellen, begrifflichen, stilistischen und sogar persönlichen Gründen weigerte sich Schiller, ihn zu veröffentlichen – und so entstand eine große Diskussion zwischen den beiden Freunden: der sogenannte Horenstreit. Fichtes Handschrift bestand aus drei fiktiven Briefen; aber das war nur der Anfang. Weitere Bogen sollten folgen. Es ist zu vermuten, dass Fichte sich seiner Materialien für die Vorlesungen des ss 1794 und des ws 1794–1795 bedient hatte. Spielte er nun möglicherweise mit der Idee, das im Vorjahr angekündigte Buch, dessen Herausgeber noch einmal Gabler gewesen wäre, zum Abschluss zu bringen? Es war Schiller klar, dass Fichtes Material umfangreich genug war, um ein Buch daraus zu machen. Als er es ablehnte, sagte er Fichte nicht nur, dass Cotta Interesse habe, es zu publizieren, sondern auch, dass er mit ihm schon darüber gesprochen habe.61 Wie es scheint, reagierte Fichte aber nicht auf dieses Angebot. Schillers Urteil über den Aufsatz mag ihn dazu veranlasst haben, das Projekt zu aufzugeben. „Über Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie. In einer Reihe von Briefen“ erschien erst 1800 im Philosophischen Journal. Andererseits schrieb Fichte, als er seine Vorlesungen wieder aufnahm, an Voigt, dass er „jetz von geheimen Orden überhaupt“ sprach und wollte „auch diese Vorlesungen – sey es auch nur zu einem Zeugniße über mich – drucken laßen,*62 und dadurch den akademischen Orden 60

61

62

Vgl. Allgemeines Verzeichnis der Bücher, welche in der Frankfurter und Leipziger Michaelismesse des 1794 Jahres entweder ganz neu gedruckt, oder sonst verbessert, wieder aufgelegt worden sind, auch inskünftige noch herauskommen sollen. Leipzig 1794, S. 280. Vgl. Brief (Entwurf) an Fichte, Jena, den 24. Juni 1795 und an Cotta, Jena, den 26. Juni 1795, in: Schillers Werke. Nationalausgabe. 27. Bd.: Briefwechsel: Schillers Briefe 1794–1795. Hg. Günther Schulz. Weimar 1958, S. 369–370, 204 u. 373. Vgl. auch fg 1, S. 286. * Lauth erwähnt hier die Ankündigung des Buches „über Buchstaben und Geist in der Philosophie“ zur Zeit der Michaelismesse 1794 und kommentiert: „Fichte trug sich damals mit dem Plane, die Veröffentlichung der Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten fortzusetzen.“ ga iii/2, 256, Anm. 5.

fichtes kolleg „moral für gelehrte“ – jena 1794–1795

375

einen neuen heftigen Streich zu versetzen.“63 Es ist aber sehr wahrscheinlich – und das gerade aus diesem politischen und auch persönlichen Grund –, dass Fichte (anders als von Lauth postuliert) diese Veröffentlichung als ein Sonderprojekt betrachtete, das genau deswegen unabhängig von dem angeblichen Buch „über Buchstaben und Geist in der Philosophie“ zu betrachten sei.

Bibliographie Allgemeines Verzeichnis der Bücher, welche in der Frankfurter und Leipziger Michaelismesse des 1794 Jahres entweder ganz neu gedruckt, oder sonst verbessert, wieder aufgelegt worden sind, auch inskünftige noch herauskommen sollen. Leipzig 1794. Blätter aus dem Archiv der Toleranz und Intoleranz. Ein freywilliger Beytrag zum Archiv der neuesten Kirchengeschichte. Erste Lieferung. Lübeck 1797. Barbosa, Ricardo: „Fichte e o ethos do erudito“. In: Fichte, J.G., O destino do erudito. Übers. R. Barbosa. São Paulo 2014, S. 95–129. Beutin, Ludwig: „Fichte und Johann Smidt“. In: Bremisches Jahrbuch, 32, 1929, S. 233– 242. Breazeale, Daniel: „Concerning the Difference between the Spirit and the Letter within Philosophy. Editor’s Preface“. In: Fichte, J.G.: Early Philosophical Writings. Ithaca u. London 1988. Coves, Fautino Oncina u. Valera, Manuel Ramos: „Cronología de las lecciones públicas del curso sobre ›Moral para sabios‹“. In: Fichte, J.G.: Algunas lecciones sobre el destino del sabio. Madrid 2002, S. 25–27. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: Über den Unterschied des Geistes und des Buchstabens in der Philosophie. Drei akademische Vorlesungen nach der Handschrift erstmalig herausgegeben v. S. Berger. Leipzig 1924. Fischer, Kuno: Geschichte der neuern Philosophie. Fünfter Band. J.G. Fichte und seine Vorgänger. Heidelberg 1890. Fuchs, Erich: „Aus dem Tagebuch von Johann Smidt (1794–1795)“. In: Fichte-Studien, 7, 1995, S. 173–192. Fuchs, Erich: „Verzeichnis der Lehrveranstaltungen, Predigten und Reden J.G. Fichtes in chronologischer Folge“. In: Götze, M. (Hg.): Philosophie als Denkwerkzeug: zur Aktualität transzendentalphilosophischer Argumentation. Festschrift für Albert Mues zum 60. Geburtstag. Würzburg 1998, S. 59–66. Gruner, Christian Gottfried: Ein paar Worte zur Belehrung, Beherzigung und Besserung des Herrn Exprofessors Fichte. Jena 1799.

63

Brief an Voigt, Osmannstädt, den 16. Febr. 1795, ga iii/2, 256.

376

barbosa

Hase, Karl: Jenaisches Fichte-Büchlein. Leipzig 1856. Kühn, Manfred: Fichte. Ein deutscher Philosoph 1762–1814. München 2012. Lauth, Reinhard: „Einleitung“. In: Fichte, J.G.: Von den Pflichten der Gelehrten. Jenaer Vorlesungen 1794/95. Hg. von Reinhard Lauth, Hans Jacob und Peter K. Schneider. Hamburg 1971. Léon, Xavier: Fichte et son temps, Bd. 1. Paris 1954. Schiller, Friedrich: Schillers Werke. Nationalausgabe. 27. Bd.: Briefwechsel: Schillers Briefe 1794–1795. Hg. von Günther Schulz. Weimar 1958.

18 Die gelehrte Bildung nach der göttlichen Idee in Über das Wesen des Gelehrten Quentin Landenne

Zusammenfassung Der vorliegende Aufsatz bietet eine Rekonstruktion der spekulativen Begründung, der polemischen Implikationen und der pragmatisch-rhetorischen Wirkung des Übergangs vom moralischen zum religiösen Standpunkt in den Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten. Erst muss gezeigt werden, wie Fichte das Wesen des Gelehrten und das Programm einer gelehrten Bildung aus der ursprünglichen Differenz zwischen Sein und Dasein, zwischen Gott und seiner Darstellung in der Welt ableitet – auch wenn diese Ableitung in den zwei ersten Vorlesungen nur populär skizziert wird. Zweitens weisen wir darauf hin, dass der Hintergrund der Auseinandersetzung mit Schelling für Fichte noch in dieser Zeit entscheidend war, um eine Reihe von wichtigen Begriffen – die göttliche Idee, die Natur, die Welt, das praktische Wissen, die Religiosität – genauer zu erklären. Schließlich wird argumentiert, dass der religiöse Standpunkt der Vorlesungen, weder ein Verzichten auf das in 1794 sehr klar ausgedrückte politisch-praktische Engagement, noch ein Defizit an rhetorischer Sorgfalt bedeutet, sondern eine höhere Interpretation des Handelns als Wirken der Idee und eine pragmatische Inszenierung des religiösen Enthusiasmus des Gelherten als Triebfeder einer pädagogisch-populären Rhetorik mit sich bringt.

Schlagwörter Wesen des Gelehrten – Bildung – göttliche Idee – Religiosität – Populärphilosophie

Abstract The present paper delivers a reconstruction of the speculative foundation, the polemical implications and the rhetorical effects of the passage from the moral point of view to the religious point of view in the lessons Über das Wesen des Gelehrten (1805). First, it shows how the essence of the scholar and the program of an education of scholars are

© Quentin Landenne, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_019

378

landenne

deduced from the original difference between being and existence, between God and his self-exposition in the world. Next, we establish that the controversy with Schelling still plays an important role in the clarification of some important concepts, like the divine idea, the nature, the world, practical knowledge or religiosity. Finally, we claim that the religious point of view of the lectures of 1805 does not involve a renouncement of strong practical engagement, which was clearly expressed in the lectures of 1794 (Über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten), or even a lack of rhetorical attention, but brings a higher interpretation of human action as the work of the divine idea, as well as a new conception of the religious enthusiasm of the scholar.

Keywords Essence of the Scholar – Bildung – divine idea – religiosity – popular philosophy

Unter den drei Reihen von Vorlesungen Fichtes, welche dem Thema der Bestimmung, bzw. des Wesens des Gelehrten gewidmet sind, ist wahrscheinlich die zweite Reihe, die in Erlangen am Sommersemester 1805 gehalten wurde, in der Literatur am wenigsten zitiert, durchgearbeitet und vielleicht auch gelesen1. Dabei ist sie die längste, hat die komplexeste Struktur und entwickelt die konkretesten Folgen, beispielsweise über die innere Organisation der Universität, die akademische Freiheit oder die Lage des wissenschaftlichen Literaturbetriebs. Bekanntlich wurde sie von Fichte selbst als „eine neue und verbesserte Ausgabe der vor zwölf Jahren von [ihm] erschienenen Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten“ betrachtet2. Dieses Urteil wurde aber zu Fichtes Zeit nicht von allen begeistert geteilt, schon nicht vom ersten Rezensenten des Werkes3, welcher zwar zugeben 1 Unter den wichtigsten Studien dazu, siehe Traub, Hartmut: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, Stuttgart, 1992; Traub, Hartmut: „Von der Wissenschaft zur Weisheit. Systematische und biographische Aspekte zu Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten“, in Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, M. Gerten (Hg), Amsterdam, 2009, Bd. 34, S. 393–416; Radrizzani, Ives: „Die Erlanger Vorlesungen “Über das Wesen des Gelehrten”. Eine “neue und verbesserte Ausgabe” der “Bestimmung des Gelehrten”?“, Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, M. Gerten (Hg), Amsterdam, 2009, Bd. 34, S. 381–391; Goulet, Jean-François: „Mündliche und schriftliche gelehrte Kommunikation in Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen 1805“, in Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, M. Gerten (Hrsg), Amsterdam, 2009, Bd. 34, S. 417–430. 2 WdG, ga i/8, 59. 3 Es handelt sich vermutlich um Heinrich Luden (1778–1847). Dazu siehe WdG, ga i/8, 42, 43;

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

379

konnte, dass die zweite Reihe „weit vollendeter, gerundeter, erschöpfender, richtiger“ als die Jenaer Vorlesungen von 1794 sind, aber nicht ohne diese zu bevorzugen, die dennoch „für ein bestimmtes Auditorium, für Studierende“ viel „passender gewesen und mehr gewirkt haben könnten“ als die von 18054. Der Grund für dieses vermutliche rhetorische und praktische Scheitern sei der Übergang vom moralischen zum religiösen Standpunkt: die zweite Reihe wäre, so der Rezensent, „mit einem religiösen Kopfe geschrieben“, die erste „mit einem sittlichen Herzen“; „hier mehr mystische Ergebung, dort mehr kräftiger Muth“; „in jenen der Ton des feurighoffenden Jünglings, in diesen der des getäuschten Mannes“5. Damit hätte Fichte die kommunikative Kraft des Enthusiasmus verloren. Der vorliegende Aufsatz bietet eine Rekonstruktion der spekulativen Begründung, der polemischen Implikationen und der pragmatisch-rhetorischen Wirkung dieses Übergangs zum religiösen Standpunkt in den Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten. Erst muss gezeigt werden, wie Fichte das Wesen des Gelehrten und das Programm einer gelehrten Bildung aus der ursprünglichen Differenz zwischen Sein und Dasein, zwischen Gott und seiner Darstellung in der Welt ableitet – auch wenn diese Ableitung in den zwei ersten Vorlesungen nur populär skizziert wird. Zweitens weisen wir darauf hin, dass der Hintergrund der Auseinandersetzung mit Schelling für Fichte noch in dieser Zeit entscheidend war, um eine Reihe von wichtigen Begriffen – die göttliche Idee, die Natur, die Welt, das praktische Wissen, die Religiosität – genauer zu erklären. Schließlich wird argumentiert, dass der religiöse Standpunkt der Vorlesungen, weder ein Verzichten auf das in 1794 sehr klar ausgedrückte politisch-praktische Engagement, noch ein Defizit an rhetorischer Sorgfalt bedeutet, sondern eine höhere Interpretation des Handelns als Wirken der Idee und eine pragmatische Inszenierung des religiösen Enthusiasmus des Gelherten als Triebfeder einer pädagogisch-populären Rhetorik mit sich bringt.

siehe auch P. Cerutti und Landenne, Quentin: „Présentation“, in J.-G. Fichte – F.W.J. Schelling, Sur l’ essence du savant et la philosophie de la nature, franz. Übersetzung von P. Cerutti und Q. Landenne, Paris, 2021, S. 29. 4 Von Fichte zitiert, AszL, ga i/9, 207. 5 AszL, ga i/9, 207.

380 1

landenne

Sein, Dasein und die göttliche Idee der Welt

Um den Text in seiner inneren Struktur zu begreifen, bedarf es zuerst einer Rekonstruktion der ganzen Reihe der begrifflichen Oppositionen und Unterscheidungen, aus welchen das Wesen des Gelehrten und seine Erscheinungen in der Welt abgeleitet sind. Fichte leitet zuerst drei allgemeine Hauptunterscheidungen ein, die auch regelmäßig in anderen seiner wissenschaftlichen und populären Schriften dieser Zeit auftauchen. Mit dem ersten Hauptunterschied werden Sein und Dasein entgegengesetzt. Das eigentliche Sein ist kein totes vor dem Bewusstsein stehendes Sein, sondern es ist das ursprüngliche Leben und ist nichts als Leben6. Wenn das Sein durchaus Leben ist, ist der Tot an sich gar nichts, wie es ein Jahr später in der Anweisung zum seligen Leben stark ausgedrückt wird7. Das Sein ist Leben und es kommt nur aus sich selbst, es ist von sich selbst und durch sich selbst. Das Sein ist eigentlich absolut und göttlich, oder anders gesagt: Leben, Gott, Absolut – das alles ist und bedeutet hier ein und dasselbe. Dies absolute Sein, bzw. Leben, ist in sich selbst und mit sich selbst durchaus gleich. Und wie Fichte es in der zweiten Beilage zu der Anweisung zum seligen Leben schreibt: „Es giebt nur Eine Weißheit und Tugend; die Erkenntniß und Liebe des wahren Seyns“8. Nun, das Sein ist nicht nur, es äußert sich auch: es geht frei aus sich selbst aus, um damit als göttliche Leben zu erscheinen. Es stellt sich dar, und diese Darstellung ist die Welt selbst; die Welt ist die Darstellung des absoluten Lebens, das Dasein des Seins. Fichte erklärt sofort den Begriff der „Welt“ als „Dasein und äußerliche Existenz“ des göttlichen Lebens genauer: „Dieses lebendige Daseyn in der Erscheinung nun nennen wir das menschliche Geschlecht“9. Die existierende Welt ist also zuerst keine in sich stehende natürliche oder physische Welt, sondern sie ist, als Äußerung des menschlichen Geschlechts, die freie Darstellung des göttlichen Lebens. Deshalb das letzte Syntagma im Titel: „Über das Wesen des Gelehrten, und seine Erscheinungen im Gebiete der Freiheit“. Die Welt als „Gebiete der Freiheit“ ist die freie Entwicklung des menschlichen Geschlechts, die sich in der Zeit und durch das praktische Überholen der ihr gegenüberstehenden Schranken fortbildet. Diese Schranken bezeichnen was üblicherweise „Natur“ oder „natürliche Welt“ genannt wird. Würden sie auf sich selbst stehen und in sich selbst bleiben, wären sie tot; sie stehen aber nicht auf sich selbst und hängen nicht von sich selbst ab, sondern von dem Dasein der 6 7 8 9

WdG, ga i/8, 71. AzsL, ga i/9, 56. AszL, ga i/9, 209. WdG, ga i/8, 72.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

381

Menschen, welches allein diese Schranken „nun immer fort durch sein steigendes Leben durchbrechen, entfernen, und in Leben verwandeln“ soll10. Daher setzt die Fortentwicklung der Vernunft die Beherrschung der Natur voraus, indem die Natur die menschliche Vernunft dazu fordert, sich zu kräftigen und sich ihrer ursprünglichen Einheit freilich und von sich selbst zu bemächtigen11. Alles Vernunftlose, vor allem die mechanische Natur, der freien Vernunft zu unterwerfen ist der Endzweck des Menschengeschlechts. Der erste Angriff gegen Schelling, der übrigens nie explizit genannt wird, ist hier eindeutig: diejenige „Natur-Philosophen“ die Natur vergöttlichen und verabsolutieren, verpassen nicht nur den eigentlichen Begriff des Lebens und des Absoluten, sondern ebenso das echte Verständnis der Natur selbst12. Die Natur ist weit davon entfernt, ursprünglich und absolut zu sein; sie ist vielmehr der notwendige Widerstand gegen die Vernunft, welcher erst es ermöglicht, dass die Menschheit sich ihre Einheit und Bedeutung als Darstellung des göttlichen Lebens freilich für sich gewinnt. Genau hier liegt die eigentliche Würde der Natur für Fichte: sie ruft dringlich den Menschen zum Überholen ihrer Schranken und damit zur Freiheit und zur Verwirklichung des Lebens in ihr auf13. Aus diesen Hauptunterschieden zwischen Absolut und Erscheinung, Leben und Existenz, Sein und Dasein, leitet Fichte den fundamentalsten Begriff der Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten ab: die Idee, bzw. die göttliche Idee, oder auch die göttliche Idee der Welt. Die göttliche Idee ist der unsichtbare Grund der sinnlichen Welt, sie ist die Quelle des Lebens in der Existenz, der geistliche Standpunkt von dem aus die Phänomene der Welt gerade als Erscheinung des göttlichen Lebens gesehen und gedacht werden können. Kraft dieser Idee kann man nicht nur der Täuschung endlich entgehen, diese Phänomene seien selbständig und würden zu uns von sich selbst kommen, sondern auch den eigentlichen Sinn der Phänomene als Fortentwicklung eines verborgenen Grundes und höheren Lebens erfassen. Mit diesem – zwar mehr platonischen als kantischen – Begriff der Idee als eigentlicher Grund der sinnlichen Welt, setzt sich Fichte nicht nur den verschiedenen Variationen von Empirismus, sondern auch der Schellingschen Konzeption der Idee, wie er sie in der Vorlesungen Über die Methode des akademischen Studiums entwickelt, wider. In diesen in 1802 gehaltenen Vorlesungen, kennzeichnet ja Schelling die „Idee“ als Grundvoraussetzung aller Wissenschaft, als Einheit des Idealen und des Realen: „Dieses aber ist die Idee des Absoluten, die sie ist: daß die Idee in Ansehung 10 11 12 13

WdG, ga i/8, 72. WdG, ga i/8, 78. WdG, ga i/8, 73. WdG, ga i/8, 78.

382

landenne

seiner auch das Seyn ist. So daß das Absolute auch jene oberste Voraussetzung des Wissens und das erste Wissen selbst ist“14. Gerade in dieser Identifizierung zwischen Absolut und Wissen besteht der Brennpunkt der philosophischen Auseinandersetzung zwischen beiden Idealisten. Für Fichte kann die göttliche Idee weder mit den weltlichen Erscheinungen, noch mit Gott oder dem göttlichen Leben selbst identifiziert sein, so wenig wie das absolute Wissen mit dem Absoluten selbst identifiziert sein kann – denn es ist gerade dessen Wissen, während das Absolute nichts anderes als das Absolute ist. Wie Fichte es in einem Brief an Schelling direkt und klar betont: „Das absolute selbst aber ist kein Seyn, noch ist es ein Wissen, noch ist es Identität, oder Indifferenz beider: sondern es ist eben – das absolute – und jedes zweite Wort ist vom Uebel“15. Der zweite Hauptunterschied des Textes ist genauso oft wiederkehrend in den Schriften Fichtes. Es ist der Unterschied zwischen der eigentlichen und der uneigentlichen Weise die oben erwähnten Wahrheiten zu verstehen und zu fassen. Die eigentliche Weise ist die innere philosophische Einsicht, welche die Selbstkonstruktion des Objekts sieht und die Wahrheit aus ihrem ursprünglichen Licht versteht. Die innere philosophische Einsicht ist also insofern genetisch, dass sie die ursprüngliche Konstruktion der Begriffe in dem Wissen einsieht. Im Gegenteil erhält die uneigentliche externe Ansicht ihre Begriffe und Erkenntnisse immer von Außen und kann darüber hinaus ihren Inhalt weder selbstständig rechtfertigen, noch als ihr eigenes Produkt betrachten, sondern nur als historische Tatsache aus einer fremden Intelligenz bekommen. Diese historischen faktischen Erkenntnisse sind nicht per se falsch in ihrem Inhalt (in ihrem Was), sie sind aber reflexiv defizitär was ihren Erzeugungsmodus (ihr Wie) anbelangt. Ein solcher Unterschied zwischen der inneren und der äußeren Ansicht ist von vielen anderen Schriften bekannt und hat eine allgemeine Tragweite, wie Fichte es in den Vorlesungen auch mit anderen Begriffen zeigt, beispielsweise mit dem Begriff der akademischen Freiheit16. Die Philosophie muss also die äußere Ansicht überstreiten; dabei kann aber der Philosoph das Erreichen des transzendentalen Standpunktes und die Vollendung der Wissenschaftslehre nicht von vornherein vom Publikum erwarten. Wenn man begreifen will, wie die innere Einsicht irgendwie bei dem Publikum zu finden sei, schon bevor es überhaupt philosophisch ausgebildet werden kann, so muss man diese Einsicht in zwei Darstellungsmoden der Wahrheit einteilen: die wissenschaftliche,

14 15 16

F.W.J. Schelling: Vorlesungen über die Methode des akademischen Studiums, sw v, 216. Brief an Schelling, 15. Januar 1802, ga iii/5, 113. WdG, ga i/8, 103.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

383

bzw. transzendentale Darstellung und die populäre Darstellung17. Es ist die primäre Aufgabe der populären Darstellung, den Zugang zu einer Einsicht der in der wl transzendental abgeleiteten Wahrheiten zu ermöglichen. Sie ist insofern weder eine rein genetische und transzendentale Darstellung, noch eine bloß faktische und äußerliche Ansicht, indem sie aus einem echten, gleichwohl „dunkle[n] Wahrheitssinne“ stammt18. Dieser Wahrheitssinne, welcher von Reinhard Lauth als der „ausgebildete Wahrheitstrieb“ charakterisiert wird, gibt zuerst einen Bezug auf Wahrheit und ermöglicht damit dass „das Ergebnis wissenschaftlicher Philosophie seinem Gehalte nach in populärer, d. h. nicht schulmäßiger Form ans Publikum gebracht werden kann“19.

2

Die gelehrte Bildung, das Publikum und die bildende Funktion des Gelehrten

Aus diesem zweiten epistemischen Hauptunterschied zwischen der inneren und der äußeren Ansicht stammt letztendlich ein dritter für die Vorlesungen und ihre Leitfrage besonders relevanter Grundunterschied. Je nach dem ein Einzelner – oder auch ein Publikum – auf irgendein Erkenntnisobjekt eine innere oder äußere Ansicht entwickelt, ist dieser Einzelne – dies Publikum – gebildet, bzw. wissenschaftlich ausgebildet oder ungebildet. Ein gebildetes, und sogar gelehrtes Publikum setzt also den Begriff der gelehrten Bildung voraus, welcher wiederum das Wesen des Gelehrten impliziert. Und kraft dieser drei strukturierenden Hauptunterschieden – Sein/Dasein, innerlich/äußerlich, gebildet/ungebildet – bekommt Fichte schon am Ende der zweiten Vorlesung den fundamentalen spekulativen Grund seines Diskurses (die göttliche Idee) seine Darstellungsmethode (die Populärphilosophie), das

17

18 19

Obwohl der Terminus „Populärphilosophie“ nicht explizit in diesen Vorlesungen gebraucht wird, ist der begriffliche und methodologische Unterschied deutlich von Fichte benutzt; die Vorlesungen sind ja populär, da sie einige Sätze als „Resultate einer angestellten tiefern Untersuchung“ [d. h. Resultate der wl] historisch mitteilen, rechnen aber gleichzeitig auf das „Wahrheitsgefühl“ des Publikums um diese Sätze innerlich zu verstehen (WdG, ga i/8, 74). Diese negative und positive Merkmale sind die wichtigsten Bestandteile der Populärphilosophie bei Fichte in dieser Epoche (z.B. GdgZ, ga i/8, S. 275, 296, 288; AszL, ga i/9, 72). Siehe unten. Siehe auch Radrizzani: „Die Erlanger Vorlesungen “Über das Wesen des Gelehrten”. Eine “neue und verbesserte Ausgabe” der “Bestimmung des Gelehrten”?“, S. 383. WdG, ga i/8, 74. R. Lauth: „J.G. Fichtes Gesamtidee der Philosophie“, in Philosophisches Jahrbuch, 71, 1964, S. 253–285, S. 257, 258, 260.

384

landenne

wirkende Subjekt seines Diskurses (der Gelehrte) und den Adressaten des Wirkens seines Diskurses (das gelehrte Publikum). Nach diesen philosophisch allgemeinen Hauptunterschieden, strukturiert Fichte die acht folgenden Vorlesungen durch eine Reihe von drei thematisch spezifischeren begrifflichen Unterscheidungen, die dazu helfen sollen, das Wesen des Gelehrten und seine Erscheinungen, also die Dynamik der von dem Gelehrten initiierten Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts, weiter zu erläutern: erstens, zwischen dem reifen, bzw. vollendeten Gelehrten und dem angehenden Gelehrten, bzw. dem Studenten, zweitens zwischen dem theoretischen Gelehrten und dem pragmatischen Gelehrten und drittens zwischen dem wissenschaftlichen Schriftsteller und dem mündlichen Gelehrtenlehrer20. Diese drei spezifische Unterscheidungen beziehen sich aber nicht so sehr auf konkrete Gruppen oder Gemeinschaften innerhalb oder außerhalb der Universität, sondern eher auf differenzierte bildungsrelevante Stadien oder Funktionen des Gelehrten überhaupt, die also gar keinen starren Kategorien von Menschen entsprechen, sondern jeweils von einem selben Gelehrten in verschiedenen Momenten in seinem Beruf möglicherweise erfüllt werden könnten. Im Vergleich mit den Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten von 1794 ist es sehr bemerkenswert wie komplex die Klassifizierung und wie breit die Tragweite des hier ausgestellten Begriffs des Gelehrten geworden sind21. Besonders bedeutsam ist dafür nicht nur der Unterschied zwischen dem „pragmatischen“ und dem „theoretischen“ Gelehrten, sondern auch der Inhalt der ersten Gattung, die „pragmatischen“ Gelehrten, und noch genauer die Wahl Fichtes diese Tatmenschen als Gelehrte zu charakterisieren: Die zweite Gattung befaßt die eigentlichen und vorzugsweise also genannten Gelehrten, deren Beruf es ist, die Erkenntniß der göttlichen Idee unter den Menschen zu erhalten, dieselbe immerfort zu höherer Klarheit und Bestimmtheit zu erheben, und sie in dieser sich stets verjüngenden und verklärenden Gestalt von Geschlechte zu Geschlechte fort zu pflanzen. Die erstern greifen gerade zu ein in die Welt, und sind der unmittelbare Berührungspunkt Gottes mit der Wirklichkeit; die letztern sind die Vermittler zwischen der reinen Geistigkeit des Gedankens in der Gottheit, und der materiellen Kraft und Wirksamkeit, welche dieser Gedanke durch die erstern erhält, die Bildner der ersten, und das 20 21

WdG, ga i/8, 115, 125 ff. Zu diesem besonderen Punkt und für einen systematischen Vergleich des Textes von 1805 mit den Vorlesungen Über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten von 1794, siehe Radrizzani: „Die Erlanger Vorlesungen “Über das Wesen des Gelehrten”, S. 391.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

385

bleibende Unterpfand für das Menschengeschlecht, daß es stets Männer dieser ersten Gattung geben werde. Keiner kann wahrhaft das erste seyn, ohne erst das zweite gewesen zu seyn, und ohne es fortdauernd zu bleiben22. Es gibt also zwei fundamentale Gattungen von Gelehrten: diejenige die direkt in die Welt eingreifen und die Menschen leiten, und diejenige die das Wissen der göttlichen Idee begründen, vertiefen und bewahren. Die zweite Gattung bezeichnet ja die Wissenschaftler im strengen Sinn, ob Schriftsteller oder mündliche Lehrer. Ihre soziale Verantwortung besteht darin, die Lehrer der ersten Gattung zu bilden – also die Dirigenten, Gesetzgeber, Ingenieure, und alle diejenige die unmittelbar in die Welt eingreifen um die Ideen darin zu verwirklichen23. Diese sind auch Gelehrte, zwar „pragmatische“, aber nichtsdestoweniger Gelehrte! Diese pragmatischen Gelehrten werden von Fichte „Regenten“ genannt. Die Regenten sind die Gelehrten „welche die Verhältnisse der Menschen, – theils unter einander selbst, oder den rechtlichen Zustand, theils ihr Verhältniß zur willenlosen Natur, oder die Herrschaft der Vernunft über das Vernunftlose, – ursprünglich und als letztes freies Prinzip leiten und anordnen“24. Es ist für die soziale und politische Philosophie Fichtes bemerkenswert, dass die Regenten – die offensichtlich eine große Menge von Berufen umfassen – auch als „Gelehrte“ kategorisiert werden. Dadurch wird betont, erstens, dass sie nicht nur von den Wissenschaftlern stricto sensu gebildet werden, sondern dass sie auch der Gemeinschaft der Gelehrten angehören. Zweitens, heißt es dass die Regenten auch eine wesentlich bildende Funktion haben, dass sie nicht weniger Träger der gelehrten Bildung sind, und dass sie integraler Bestandteil des adressierten Publikums der Vorlesungen sind – auch wenn das tatsächliche Publikum de facto beschränkter und ausgewählter war. Damit ist die gelehrte Bildung hier als fundamentaler Impuls einer Bildungsgesellschaft25 und darüber hinaus einer Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts gedacht. Hinter diesen Einteilungen des Gelehrtenbegriffs und der pädagogischen Beziehungen zwischen den verschiedenen Gattungen, versteckt sich die Fich22 23

24 25

WdG, ga i/8, 114. Österreich, Peter L.: „Die Bestimmung des Gelehrten im 21. Jahrhundert“, in H. von Manz et G. Zöller (Hg.), Fichtes praktische Philosophie, Ein systematische Einführung, Hildesheim, 2006, S. 127–144, S. 128. WdG, ga i/8, 118. Zu diesem Begriff, siehe Landenne, Quentin: „Die Bildungsgesellschaft als Integrationsdynamik der sozialen Perspektiven bei Fichte“, in Ch. Binkelmann (Hg.) Fichte-Studien, vol. 40, New York/Amsterdam, 2012, S. 165–187.

386

landenne

tesche Umwandlung des klassischen Problems der Herrschaft, wie es bei Kant im sechsten Absatz der Idee zu einer allgemeinen Geschichte in weltbürgerlicher Absicht formuliert wird26. Für Fichte geht es hier nicht mehr an erster Stelle darum, zu bestimmen wer der Herr des Herrn wird, oder wie der Regierende zu regieren oder eben wie der Überwacher zu überwachen ist – wie es noch in seiner Rechtslehre mit dem Problem des Ephorats der Fall war27. Die entscheidende Frage heißt jetzt eher: wie kann man den Erzieher erziehen, oder den Ausbilder ausbilden28? Nun betrifft diese Frage nicht nur die Beziehungen des vollendeten Gelehrten mit dem angehenden Gelehrten, sondern ebenso wohl das Verhältnis zwischen theoretischem und pragmatischem Gelehrten, und darüber hinaus das Verhältnis zwischen dem Gelehrten und seinem Publikum. Es ist eine der wichtigsten Aufgaben dieser Schrift, das Publikum des Gelehrten – und in diesem besonderen Fall das gelehrte Publikum – zu finden, bzw. zu „konstruieren“, damit dies Publikum der wirkende Antrieb einer Bildung des nicht-gelehrten Publikum werde, die Triebfeder einer Volksbildung, die Avantgarde29 einer Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts. Die gelehrte Bildung eines bestimmten Zeitalters als Bedingung der Selbsterkenntnis dieses Zeitalters ist erfordert, damit die Handlung nach der göttlichen Idee in der zeitlich konkreten Welt wirksam sein kann. Der Gelehrte ist also das notwendige Glied um den Gegensatz, bzw. die Spannung zwischen der Allgemeinheit der Idee und der Besonderheit des gegenwärtigen Zeitalters aufzulösen30; er „bekommt hiebei den schwierigen Streit zu vermitteln, wie die Wirksamkeit seiner Idee mit der Reinigkeit derselben, ihr Einfluß mit ihrer Würde zu vereinigen sey“31. Von daher kommt die architektonisch – und nicht nur chronologisch – zentrale Position der Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten von 1805, zwischen den Grundzügen des gegenwärtigen Zeitalters von 1804 und die Anweisung zum seligen Leben von 180632.

26 27 28 29 30 31 32

aa viii, 23. gnr, ga i/3, 446 ff. Hartmut Traub spricht darüber sehr passend von einer „Erziehung der Erzieher“, in Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, S. 81, Fußnote 50. Hahn, Klaus: Staat, Erziehung und Wissenschaft bei J.-G. Fichte, 1969, München, S. 154. Traub: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, S. 163. WdG, ga i/8, 107. Traub: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, S. 81.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

3

387

Der religiöse Standpunkt als epistemologischer und pragmatischer Schlüssel

Es geht also für Fichte darum, die Figur des Gelehrten nach den von ihm angegebenen Prinzipien zu „konstruieren“33. Nicht erst die Philosophie als Institution einer gemeinsamen nationalen Kultur, sondern die Figur des Gelehrten als Person, als Inkarnation der Bildung34 und als Erzieher des Menschengeschlechts ist der zentrale Punkt dieses Textes35. In seinem Wesen – d. h. wie er aus dem Standpunkt des Verstandes Gottes ist, auch wenn Gott eine Intelligenz unserer Art keineswegs zugeschrieben werden kann36 – ist der Gelehrte derjenige „in welchem die gelehrte Bildung ihren Endzweck erreicht hat (…): sein Leben ist selbst das Leben der die Welt fortschaffenden und von Grund aus neu gestaltenden göttlichen Idee innerhalb der Welt“37. Als Personifizierung der göttlichen Idee, führt der Gelehrte seine bildende Bestimmung durch und opfert damit um ihretwillen seine Individualität: „da er durchaus keine Regung in sich und an sich duldet, die nicht unmittelbar sey Regung und Leben der göttlichen Idee, die ihn ergriffen hat, so wird begleitet sein ganzes Leben von dem unerschütterlichen Bewußtseyn, daß es einig sey mit dem göttlichen Leben, daß an ihm und in ihm Gottes Werk vollbracht werde, und sein Wille geschehe“. „Und sein Wille geschehe“ – dies Gebet der Gebete ist auch das fundamentalste Motto des Gelehrten. Wenn der Gelehrte pädagogisch wirksam sein soll, dann muss er sich nicht in der Singularität seiner Einzelheit konzipieren. Im Gegenteil ist er nur insofern wirksam, als er in seinem Denken, seinem Tun und seinem Wollen die begrenzte Form seiner Individualität überschreitet, indem sein persönliches Leben im Leben Gottes aufgelöst wird38. In der Zweiten Beilage zur Vorrede der Anweisung zum seligen Leben sagt Fichte, dass das Ziel der Vorlesungen von 1805 ist den Hörer, bzw. den Leser davon zu überzeugen, dass „alles unrechte am Menschen lediglich in seiner Selbstheit ruhet, und daß er nur durch die Ver-

33 34

35

36 37 38

WdG, ga i/8, 69. Über die Rolle der persönlichen Inkarnation in Fichtes Ethik, siehe Ivaldo, Marco: „„Das Wort wird Fleisch“. Sittliche Inkarnation in Fichtes später Sittenlehre“, in H. von Manz et G. Zöller (Hg.), Fichtes praktische Philosophie, Ein systematische Einführung, Hildesheim, 2006, S. 175–198. Siehe dazu Traub: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, S. 162; siehe auch Österreich, Peter: „Die Einheit der Lehre ist der Gelehrte selbst“, Fichte-Studien, Bd. 16, 1999, Amsterdam, 1999, S. 1–18. WdG, ga i/8, 76. WdG, ga i/8, 114. WdG, ga i/8, 111.

388

landenne

nichtung derselben einkehrt in das wahre Seyn“39. Die Idee ist „die Weise, wie das Leben der Gattung in das Bewußtseyn einträte, und in dem Leben des Individuums Kraft, und Trieb würde“40. Nur insofern er das reine Vehikel, Organ und Werkzeug der Idee wird, kann der Gelehrte seine Tätigkeit und Kreativität entwickeln. In dem echten Gelehrten wird die Liebe, welche ihn bewegt, identisch mit der Liebe der göttlichen Idee in ihm; „dann sagen wir, dem Scheine uns bequemend, dieser Mensch liebt die Idee, und lebt in der Idee, da es doch, nach der Wahrheit, die Idee selbst ist, welche an seiner Stelle, und in seiner Person lebt und sich liebt, und seine Person lediglich die sinnliche Erscheinung dieses Daseyns der Idee ist, welche Person keinesweges an und für sich selbst da ist, oder lebt“41. Genau hier liegt das eigentliche Merkmal des religiösen Standpunktes nach Fichte: der Gelehrte ist religiös insofern er sich dem göttlichen Leben in ihm hingibt, indem er das aktive Bild dessen geworden ist. Diese Auffassung des Gelehrten als Inkarnation des göttlichen Lebens, als lebendiger Träger der Idee in der Welt, setzt eine erneuerte Interpretation des Verhältnisses zwischen Wissen und Handlung voraus. Hier scheint Fichte wiederum Schelling zu antworten, welcher in seinen Vorlesungen von 1802 diejenigen kritisierte, die das Wissen der Handlung unterordnen würden, indem er den berühmten Spruch der Bestimmung des Gelehrten 179442 explizit parodierte: „Handeln, handeln! ist der Ruf der zwar von vielen Seiten ertönt, am lautesten aber von denjenigen abgestimmt wird, bei denen es mit dem Wissen nicht fort will“43. Demgegenüber betrachtet Schelling den Gegensatz zwischen Wissen und Handlung als eine Täuschung, während Denker wie Fichte die ursprüngliche Einheit beider aus Mangel an einem richtigen Begriff des Absoluten verpassen. Dieser Fehlbegriff des Absoluten, und infolgedessen der Einheit des Idealen und des Realen, wäre damit für diese irreführende Kluft zwischen Wissen und Handlung verantwortlich. Um die Sinnlosigkeit dieser Kritik Schellings aufzuweisen, betont Fichte dass sein Diskurs nicht von dem legalistischen oder moralistischen Standpunkt einer Gebotsmoral aus gehalten wird, sondern vielmehr „vom höchsten Standpunkte der absoluten Wahrheit aus“44. Es geht also nicht darum eine Reihe von Regeln und imperativer Verhaltenshinweisen für den Gelehrten aufzustellen, sondern primär darum, das Wesen des Gelehrten aus dem Licht der göttlichen

39 40 41 42 43 44

AszL, ga i/9, 209, 210. WdG, ga i/8, 244. WdG, ga i/8, 67, 68. „Handeln! Handeln! Das ist es, wozu wir da sind.“ (BdG, ga i/3, 67). F.W.J. Schelling: Vorlesungen über die Methode des akademischen Studiums, sw v, 218. WdG, ga i/8, 69.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

389

Idee darzustellen und zu beschreiben. Diese Beschreibung ist aber viel praktischer als irgendwelche „Vorschrift“, da sie das Wirken der Idee in der Person des Gelehrten beschreibt: „was aber im Menschen innerlich ist, tritt nothwendig auch äußerlich in ihm hervor, stellt sich dar in allem seinen Denken, Wollen und Handeln, und wird ihm unwandelbare und unveränderliche Sitte“45. Das innere Verhältnis des Wissens und der Handlung liegt zwar weder in der undifferenzierten Einheit des Absoluten selbst, noch in der Kluft zwischen dem Sollen und der sinnlichen Welt, sondern vielmehr im praktischen Wissen welches wirklich „schöpferisch“ ist und in seiner persönlichen Inkarnation im von der göttlichen Idee begeisterten und belebten Gelehrten46. Die Populärphilosophie, die sich in den drei erwähnten Reihen von Vorträgen paradigmatisch entwickelt, ist nicht vom transzendentalen Standpunkt aus gehalten, sondern vom religiösen Standpunkt, d. h. von der vierten Weltansicht, nach der Einteilung der wl 1804/2 und der Anweisung zum seligen Leben47. Genauer gesagt – da jeder philosophische Diskurs nach Fichte den transzendentalen Standpunkt voraussetzen muss – die Charakteristik der populären Darstellung besteht darin, dass sie nicht primär den transzendentalen Sinn des Publikums erfordert, sondern den religiösen Sinn, die Religiosität des Hörers, wie es in den drei Reihen von 1804 bis 1806 behauptet wird. In den Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten ist die Religiosität des Gelehrten deutlich als Bedingung der Verwirklichung seiner bildenden Bestimmung gesetzt: „Hierdurch wird nun sein Blick überhaupt geheiliget, verklärt und religiös; in seinem Innern geht ihm die Seligkeit auf, und in ihr stete Freudigkeit, Ruhe und Stärke“48. Der Beruf des Gelehrten entspricht also nicht irgendeinem gewöhnlichen Priesteramt, ist keine Mission unter anderen; es ist die heilige Mission par excellence, kraft derer der Gelehrte sich des eigentlichen Heiliges widmet: die göttliche Idee selbst. Der Gelehrte soll ein „immerwährendes Opfer“ seines Berufs sein49, er muss sich als der „Priester der Wissenschaft“ erklären50. Ob Regent, Schriftsteller

45 46

47 48 49 50

Ibid. „Eben so, wie das Leben der Menschen das einzige unmittelbare Werkzeug und Organ ist der göttlichen Idee in der Sinnenwelt, so ist dasselbe menschliche Leben auch der erste und unmittelbare Gegenstand dieser Wirksamkeit“ (WdG, ga i/8, 77). wl-1804-ii, ga ii/8, 416–418; AszL, ga i/9, 106–112. WdG, ga i/8, 116. WdG, ga i/8, 128. WdG, ga i/8, 131. Solche treffende Formulierungen waren schon in Einige Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten in 1794 zu finden: „Ich bin ein Priester der Wahrheit; ich bin in ihrem Solde; ich habe mich verbindlich gemacht, alles für sie zu thun und zu wagen, und zu leiden“ (BdG, ga i/3, 58).

390

landenne

oder mündlicher Lehrer, er ist der lebende Beweis der Idee, nicht erst durch seine Worte, sondern kraft seines der Idee gewidmeten Lebens51. Auch der Regent, als pragmatischer Gelehrte, muss sein ganzes Leben der Idee widmen: „Er erfasset zuförderst in deutlichem Bewußtseyn dieses sein Leben, als das unmittelbare göttliche Wirken und Walten in ihm, und die Vollziehung des göttlichen Willens an und in seiner Person“52. Die Persönlichkeit in dem Gelehrten hat also nur insofern Wirkung und Bedeutung, wenn die Singularität des Gelehrten sich durch seine religiöse Weltansicht und seine supraindividuelle Bestimmung annihilieren lässt. Die Religiosität oder der Standpunkt der Religion liefert folglich den epistemologischen und pragmatischen Schlüssel dieser Vorlesungen. Sie erklärt ja nicht nur das epistemologisch beschränkte Niveau des Diskurses, sondern auch was der Gelehrte kraft dieses Diskurses tut, wie er auf das Publikum wirkt. Negativ betrachtet, unterscheidet sich zwar die populäre von der Wissenschaftlichen Darstellung, indem sie die Sätze der wl bloß als Resultate darlegt, ohne die vorausgesetzte transzendentale Ableitung methodisch und selbstständig vollzubringen. In diesem Sinne, ist die Populärphilosophie mehr faktisch als genetisch, mehr historisch als transzendental53. Sie lässt sich aber nicht zu einer bloß externen Ansicht reduzieren, gerade weil sie den natürlichen „Wahrheitssinn“ des Publikums erweckt54. Auch wenn dieser Wahrheitssinn in der populären Darstellung nicht auf seinen genetischen Ursprung zurückgeführt wird, findet er in der Religiosität der Populärphilosophie den höchsten empirischen Standpunkt der Betrachtungen, die höchste nicht-transzendentale Weltansicht. Die religiöse Weltansicht ist ja höchst genetisch, indem sie die supraindividuelle Quelle des Individuums und den übersinnlichen Grund des Übersinnlichen erweist. Der religiöse Standpunkt ist zwar nicht die idealrealistische Genese der wl; er ist ja realistisch, da er erst vom Glauben an die Realität des Göttlichen geht; dieser Realismus ist aber gleichzeitig genetisch, da er zeigt dass der Sinn der Erfahrung aus einem überpersönlichen Handeln stammt, woraus alle individuelle Handlungen kommen, aus einem Leben wovon alle Existenzen kommen55.

51 52 53 54 55

WdG, ga i/8, 124, 128. WdG, ga i/8, 122. AszL, ga i/9, 72. GdgZ, ga i/8, 275, 296, 288; AszL, ga i/9, 72; WdG, ga i/8 71. wl-1804-ii, ga ii/8, 417–419.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

4

391

Schluss: Religiosität, Rhetorik und Kreativität des Gelehrten

Kraft dieses religiösen Sinnes verstehen wir nun nicht nur die wissenschaftlichen Begrenzungen, sondern auch die rhetorischen Wirkungen der populären Darstellung. Besonders in den Vorlesungen von 1805 Über das Wesen des Gelehrten positioniert sich Fichte spezifisch als mündlicher Lehrer, und gerade nicht als Schriftsteller, wie es explizit in der Vorrede zu lesen ist56. Wenn der mündliche Lehrer auf die „Freimütigkeit“, „Offenheit“, „Belehrbarkeit“ seines Publikums rechnen können soll57, muss er seinerseits sorgfältig auf die Rezeptivität, die Affekte und „Empfänglichkeit für die Idee“58 dieses Publikums achten. Es muss überhaupt Rücksicht „auf die zu bildenden Menschen, den Standpunkt ihrer Bildung, und ihre Bildsamkeit überhaupt“ genommen werden59. Es ist die „Kunst des Lehrers“ „jeden nach dem Maasse seiner Bildung höher herauf zu heben“60. Die Religiosität der populären Darstellung ist somit der Grund und das Zeichen ihrer rhetorischen Wirkung: sie beschreibt das gezielte Pathos im Sinne Aristoteles – als affektive Disposition des Zuhörers sich von der Rede überzeugen zu lassen. Dieses religiöse Pathos ist aber hier höchstens aktiv; es zeigt sogar ein höheres Verständnis des Handelns, indem es jede unserer Handlungen als ein Wirken des göttlichen Lebens in uns auffasst. Darum ist die Religiosität des Gelehrten, welche seine Liebe der Idee in allem was er denkt, tut und sagt ausdrückt, das passende Organ für des Gelehrtens bildende Wirkung und gleicherweise für die Konstruktion, bzw. Selbstkonstruktion des gelehrten Publikums. Damit ist auch klar geworden, dass die religiös eingeprägten Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten den aktivistischen Trend der Bestimmung des Gelehrten – „Handeln! Handeln!“ – keinesfalls radikal brechen. Im Grunde genommen ist der religiöse Standpunkt der Populärphilosophie in 1804–1806 eine spekulativ tiefere Interpretation des menschlichen Handelns. Diese Weltansicht geht weit jenseits der individuellen Grenzen und der sinnlichen Zeichen des Erfolgs und des Scheiterns der Handlung. Nun ist diese Religiosität bei Fichte alles andere als rein kontemplativ. Dafür erfordert die religiöse Weltansicht sich in den Standpunkt der höheren Moral, bzw. des Kreativen Handelns zu verlängern und zu übertragen, damit er weiter in der Welt praktisch wirke.

56 57 58 59 60

WdG, ga i/8, 59. iop, ga ii/9, 44. WdG, ga i/8, 127. WdG, ga i/8, 125. Siehe dazu auch Goulet: „Mündliche und schriftliche gelehrte Kommunikation in Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen 1805“, S. 420ff. iop, ga ii/9, 37.

392

landenne

Die Kreativität und Genialität des Gelehrten61 ist das Zeugnis der in ihm wirkenden göttlichen Idee: „Was der göttliche Mensch thut, das ist göttlich. Im Allgemeinen ist die ursprünglich und rein göttliche Idee, – das, was der unmittelbar von Gott begeisterte soll, und wirklich thut, – für die Welt der Erscheinung schöpferisch, hervorbringend das neue, unerhörte, und vorher nie da gewesene“62. Die Genialität des Gelehrten bezeichnet sich zwar in der transzendentalen Spekulation, aber nicht nur in der Wissenschaft; kraft der oben dargestellten breiten Tragweite des Gelehrtenbegriffs, vervielfachen sich die Typen von Genialität nach den verschiedenen Interventionsbereichen des pragmatischen Gelehrten: je nach dem, kann das Gelehrtengenie technisch, politisch, rechtlich, ästhetisch, moralisch oder religiös63. Die schöpferische Tätigkeit des Gelehrten, die sich erst in der Freiheit und Klarheit seines Denkens ausspricht, ist demnach das eigentliche Zeichen, welches die echte religiöse Begeisterung von der Schwärmerei – d.h. auch für Fichte: von der Philosophie Schellings – entscheidend unterscheidet64. In der Kreativität des Gelehrten vereinigen sich schließlich der moralische Aktivismus der Jenaer Periode und die Religiosität der Erlanger Vorlesungen, da sie dafür sorgt, dass der Gelehrte sich weder in der sterilen Kontemplation des Göttlichen, noch in der oberflächlichen Eitelkeit der „Selbstheit“65 einschließen lässt.

Bibliographie Cerutti, Patrick und Quentin Landenne: „Présentation“, in J.-G. Fichte – F.W.J. Schelling, Sur l’essence du savant et la philosophie de la nature, franz. Übersetzung von P. Cerutti und Q. Landenne, Paris, 2021. Goulet, Jean-François: „Mündliche und schriftliche gelehrte Kommunikation in Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen 1805“, in Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, Bd. 34, M. Gerten (Hg.), Amsterdam, 2009, S. 417–430. Hahn, Klaus: Staat, Erziehung und Wissenschaft bei J.-G. Fichte, 1969, München. Ivaldo, Marco: „„Das Wort wird Fleisch“. Sittliche Inkarnation in Fichtes später Sittenlehre“, in H. von Manz et G. Zöller (Hg.), Fichtes praktische Philosophie, Ein systematische Einführung, Hildesheim, 2006, S. 175–198. 61 62 63

64 65

WdG, ga i/8, 81. WdG, ga i/8, 77. WdG, ga i/8, 79. Siehe auch Traub: „Von der Wissenschaft zur Weisheit. Systematische und biographische Aspekte zu Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten“, S. 414, 415. WdG, ga i/8, 83. AszL, ga i/9, 210.

die gelehrte bildung nach der göttlichen idee

393

Landenne, Quentin: „Die Bildungsgesellschaft als Integrationsdynamik der sozialen Perspektiven bei Fichte“, in Ch. Binkelmann (Hg.) Fichte-Studien, Bd. 40, New York/ Amsterdam, 2012, S. 165–187. Lauth, Reinhard: „J.G. Fichtes Gesamtidee der Philosophie“, in Philosophisches Jahrbuch, 71, 1964, S. 253–285. Österreich, Peter L.: „Die Einheit der Lehre ist der Gelehrte selbst“, Fichte-Studien, Bd. 16, 1999, Amsterdam, S. 1–18. Österreich, Peter L.: „Die Bestimmung des Gelehrten im 21. Jahrhundert“, in H. von Manz et G. Zöller (Hg.), Fichtes praktische Philosophie, Ein systematische Einführung, Hildesheim, 2006, S. 127–144. Radrizzani, Ives: „Die Erlanger Vorlesungen “Über das Wesen des Gelehrten”. Eine “neue und verbesserte Ausgabe” der “Bestimmung des Gelehrten”?“, Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, Bd. 34, M. Gerten (Hrsg), Amsterdam, 2009, S. 381–391. Traub, Hartmut: Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Populärphilosophie. 1804–1806, Stuttgart, 1992. Traub, Hartmut: „Von der Wissenschaft zur Weisheit. Systematische und biographische Aspekte zu Fichtes Erlanger Vorlesungen Über das Wesen des Gelehrten“, in Fichte in Erlangen 1805. Beiträge zu den Fichte-Tagung in Rammenau, Fichte-Studien, Bd. 34, M. Gerten (Hrsg), Amsterdam, 2009, S. 393–416.

19 Fichte’s Original Insight Reviewed Roberto Horácio Sá Pereira

Abstract This paper addresses Fichte’s puzzle of self-consciousness. I propose a new reading of “Fichte’s original insight”, inspired by Pareyson’s general reading, which I call here the “Fichtean metaphysical turn in transcendental philosophy”. Against the mainstream view in Fichte’s scholarship, I argue that Fichte’s and Kant’s views do not concur regarding the primary reference of the “I”, namely spontaneous agency in thinking, which Fichte calls “Tathandlung”. Yet, their views do in fact concur when Fichte claims that this spontaneous agency in thinking is the “essence” or the underlying nature of the self, which Kant denies. Regarding this I take the side of Fichte. But how is Fichte’s original insight supposed to solve the puzzle of self-consciousness? At that transcendental level, the puzzle does not arise because there is no need for self-identification in the first place. Transcendental self-knowledge results from the sui generis intellectual Selbstanschauung that everyone has of oneself as sheer spontaneous agency in thinking. But at the empirical level, the puzzle does not arise either and for the same reason. Reference to the embodied self dispenses with any self-identification because it is based on the fundamental metaphysical relation everybody has to their own body, namely identity.

Keywords self-consciousness – Fichte’s puzzle – Heidelberg school – language-analytical approach

1

Prolegomena

In 1966 Henrich published in the commemorative volume for Wolfgang Cramer a paper with the suggestive title “Fichte’s Original Insight.”1 The focus was the

1 Henrich, Dieter. Fichtes ursprüngliches Einsicht. Frankfurt a. M. 1966.

© Roberto Horácio Sá Pereira, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_020

fichte’s original insight reviewed

395

structure of self-consciousness. According to Henrich’s reading of Fichte, selfconsciousness cannot be understood as turn-back-upon-oneself consciousness “Sichzurückwenden”. That is what a very long tradition (called “Reflection”) thought, dating back to Ockham and continuing through Descartes, Locke, Leibniz, until Kant and his followers. Knowing self-reference seems to require the knowledge of identity that the subject as the thinker is the subject as her own object. Now, this presupposed knowledge launches either a regress or a vicious circle. Fichte’s well-known solution recurs to the idea of I as “self-positing”. Yet, assuming that the self is a res or a substance, Fichte’s proposal faces an immediate objection: “how could someone perform that very act of positing if it does not yet exist in the first place”? The phenomenon of reflexive or knowing self-reference appears to be so embarrassing to the members of the Heidelberg school that some of them despaired of ever solving it. Henrich describes the phenomenon of reflexive self-consciousness as a “puzzle” and as an “enigma”,2 and characterizes the philosophical attempt to explain the phenomenon as completely “helpless.” Cramer, another key figure in the Heidelberg school, remarks that the phenomenon of self-consciousness confronts us with “an incontestable state of affairs” whose explanation leads to difficulties that “appear close to insurmountable”.3 In a similar vein, Pothast describes the main difficulty of reflexive self-reference as “insoluble”.4 The overall conclusion to which they seem to be driven is that the traditional philosophical concern should shift its focus from the phenomenon of reflexive or knowing self-reference to the phenomenon of pre-reflexive awareness “Bekanntsein mit sich”.5 In the late seventies, Tugendhat claimed that the problem lurking behind the Theory of Reflection is what he, inspired by Heidegger,6 called the subjectobject model, that is, the underlying assumption that one becomes conscious of something insofar as one represents “Vorstellen” and identifies it as an object, i.e., as something placed against one’s act of reflection.7 The diagnosis seems correct, but the same cannot be said of the proposed solution. Tugendhat

2 Henrich, Dieter, Fichtes urprünglices, p. 65. 3 Cramer, Krammer. “Erlebnis.” In: H. Gadamer, Stuttgarter Hegel Tage. Bonn 1974, p. 54. 4 Pothast, Ulrich. Über einige Fragen der Selbstbeziehung. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann 1974. 5 Heinrich, Fichtes urprünglices, pp. 277–278. 6 Heidegger, Martin. Die Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie, Frankfurt a. Main 1989. 7 Tugendhat, Ernst. Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung Sprachanalytische Interpretationen. Frankfurt am Main: 1979.

396

sá pereira

believed that he could solve or dissolve the puzzle by just replacing the subjectobject model with a new linguistic framework. Yet, Tugendhat’s semantic account faces the same problem again; or so I shall argue. This paper addresses Fichte’s puzzle of self-consciousness. I propose a new reading of “Fichte’s original insight”, inspired by Pareyson’s general reading, which we may call here the “Fichtean metaphysical turn in transcendental philosophy”. Yet, against that mainstream view in Fichte’s scholarship, I argue first that Fichte’s and Kant’s views do not concur regarding the primary reference of the “I”, namely spontaneous agency in thinking, which Fichte calls “Tathandlung”. Nonetheless, their views do in fact concur when Fichte claims that this spontaneous agency in thinking is the “essence” or the underlying nature of the self, which Kant as is known denies. Regarding this I take the side of Fichte. Even though Fichte’s metaphysical insight does not settle the fundamental metaphysical mind-body debate (whether the self is material or immaterial), I believe that a close examination of the nature of the cogito supports Fichte’s original insight. But how is Fichte’s original insight supposed to solve the puzzle of selfconsciousness? At that transcendental level, the puzzle does not arise because there is no need for self-identification in the first place. Transcendental selfknowledge results from the sui generis intellectual Selbstanschauung that everyone has of oneself as agency in thinking. But at the empirical level, the puzzle does not arise either and for the same reason. Reference to the embodied self dispenses with any self-identification because it is based on the fundamental metaphysical relation everybody has to their own body, namely identity. In the face of my overall claims, the reader readily realizes that this paper is not only situated in history of philosophy. It is also mainly conceived as a paper of a systematic nature, attempting to provide a solution to a problem (Fichte’s puzzle) that transcends the Fichte-Kant historical debate, reaching both German contemporary philosophy and contemporary analytical philosophy of mind. Regarding this, beside Fichte’s scholars (The mainly Italian reception of Fichte’s work), I will recur to authors and contributions stemming from all different philosophical traditions: transcendental philosophy, the Heidelberg school, phenomenology and the analytical traditions. Given this, this paper is structured as follows. As the debate around Fichte’s puzzle of emerges in German contemporary philosophy with Henrich’s seminal paper,8 in the next section I contextualize it, by presenting it in the recent history of German philosophy. Then I present it in possibly the most reliable way. 8 Henrich, Fichtes urprünglices Einsicht. I have named my paper after Henrich’s.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

397

However, the debate was not confined to the Heidelberg school. Tugendhat resumed the debate in his quite popular paper in Germany about selfconsciousness at the end of the seventies.9 That said, in the subsequent two sections, I present and criticize, respectively, Tugendhat’s linguistic-analytical approach (sprachanalytische Behandlung). In the fourth, entitled “Roads not taken”, I rule out two contemporary solutions to the original puzzle: the phenomenological proposal of an intransitive or pre-reflexive form of self-consciousness and Bermúdez’s suggestion of primitive forms of putative nonconceptual self-consciousness or self-awareness. In the last section I present and defend my proposal at length. This last section is conceived as follows. First, I resume Fichte and Kant’s debate on the underlying nature of self-consciousness in the tradition of transcendental philosophy. That is required for clarifying Fichte’s view on self-consciousness, more specifically Fichte’s obscure ideas of “self-positing” and of “Tatahandlung”. After that, I present and defend my reading of Fichte’s original insight in two steps as a plausible solution to the puzzle.

2

The Heidelberg School

Henrich was right when he drew attention to the fact that Fichte was the first philosopher of the tradition to recognize a paradox in the account of selfconsciousness by means of the Theory of Reflection.10 Knowing self-reference requires the knowledge that it is the object of the reflection that is at the same time the very reflecting subject, that is, the one who is performing the act of reflection. Fichte sums up the paradox as follows: We become (…) conscious of our consciousness of our consciousness only by making the latter a second time into an object; thereby obtaining consciousness of our consciousness, and so on ad infinitum. In this way, however, our consciousness is not explained, or there is consequently no consciousness at all, if one assumes it to be a state of mind or an object and thus always presupposes a subject, but never finds it. The sophistry lies at the heart of all systems hitherto, including the Kantian.11 Henrich reformulates Fichte’s puzzle in the following terms: 9 10 11

Tugendhat, Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung. Henrich: Fichtes urprüngliches, p. 14, emphasis added. Fichte, Johan G. Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre. gwl Jena und Leipzig 1794/95. Quoted from Peter Heath (translator). In Fichte: Science of Knowledge (Wis-

398

sá pereira

It is not difficult to see that the reflection theory is circular: if we assume that reflection is an activity performed by a subject – and this assumption is hard to avoid – it is clear that reflections presuppose an “I” that is capable of initiating activity spontaneously, for the “I” as a kind of quasi-act cannot become aware of its reflection only after the fact. It must perform the reflection and be conscious of what it does at the same time as it does it.12 Yet Cramer certainly formulated the problem most clearly: But how can the subject know the she in the reflection has herself as her own object? Apparently, only through the fact that the ego knows that she is identical with herself as her own object. Now, it is impossible to attribute this knowledge to reflection and to justify knowledge from it. Because for every act of reflection it is presupposed that I am already acquainted with myself, to know that the one with whom she is acquainted, when it takes herself as object, is identical to the one who is making the act of reflection turn back on itself. The theory, which wants to make the origin of self-consciousness understandable, therefore ends necessarily in a circle: that knowledge already must presuppose what it wants to explain it in the first place.13 Fichte’s puzzle is this: knowing self-reference requires knowledge of the identity between the subject as the thinker (“Is”) and the subject as the object (“Io”), the thinker as the subject and object at the same time, hence the apparently paradoxical Fichtean proposition: “Ich=Ich”. The puzzle can be more clearly reconstructed in the form of a classic dilemma. The first arm of the dilemma is the infinite regress. The question is: how do I know that I am the object (of my own reflection)? The answer is: by knowing that I am the one who carried out the act of reflection in the first place. But the same question is raised all over again: how do I know that I am the subject who carried out the first-order reflection? (How do I know that I am the producer of the relevant token of the first-person pronoun)? For that, I need to perform another second-order reflection in order to identify myself as the subject who carried out the first-order reflection and so on ad infinitum.

12 13

senschaftslehre), ed. Peter Heath and John Lachs, New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1970; 2nd ed., Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982, ii, p. 356. Henrich. Dieter, “Self-consciousness, a critical introduction to a theory.” Man and World 4 (1970, 1), p. 11. Cramer, “Erlebnis”, p. 56.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

399

The other arm of the dilemma is the vicious circle. If I want to avoid the undesirable vicious infinite regress, I have to assume that I somehow know in advance that I am the same subject who is the object of reflection by knowing, and at the same time, and by the same token of the first-person pronoun, that I am the subject that has carried out the act of first-order reflection (without the need to carry out a second-order reflection). However, if I already know that I am the subject carrying out the act of reflection (the one producing a token of the first-person pronoun), as Fichte says, the knowing self-reference is not explained by the Theory of Reflection but rather it is presupposed. Fichte’s own solution to this problem is unclear, but very well known: The “I” posits itself absolutely, that is, without any mediation. It is at the same time subject and object. The “I” only comes into being through its self-positing – it is not a preexisting substance – rather, its essence in positing is to posit itself, it is one and the same thing; consequently, it is immediately conscious of itself.14 In fact, Fichte never explained his metaphor of positing and self-positing.15 The formula “the ‘I’ posits itself” can negatively characterize Fichte’s own rejection of the traditional Theory of Reflection. However, according to the Heidelberg school, the idea of “self-positing” sounds incomprehensible. Pothast, for example, wonders: “how could someone perform that very act of positing if it does not yet exist in the first place”?16 The Heidelberg theory of consciousness emerged in 1971 as an attempt to resume Fichte’s original insight. Negatively, it can be characterized by the rejection of both the old Theory of Reflection and Fichte’s claim that selfconsciousness is as “Tathandlung”. Positively, it can be seen as the resumption of Fichte’s original insight that self-consciousness must be based on a nonpropositional knowledge of oneself, which Henrich calls self-acquaintance. The core of the old Heidelberg theory of consciousness can be represented in three main theses. (1) Reflexive knowing self-reference cannot be accounted for in the terms suggested by the Theory of Reflection without circularity. (2) To break the circle, self-consciousness must be accounted for on the basis of an original form of self-acquaintance within consciousness. (3) However, this original form of self-acquaintance is neither an activity nor a relation between a subject and her object. 14 15 16

Fichte, Science of Knowledge, p. 357. Henrich, Fichtes urprüngliches, p. 18. Pothast, Über einige Fragen der Selbstbeziehung, p. 71.

400 3

sá pereira

Tugendhat’s Linguistic-Analytical Approach

Inspired by both Heidegger and Wittgenstein, Tugendhat claims that Fichte’s puzzle arises only because self-consciousness is misconceived in the traditional terms of the subject-object model of consciousness. To be sure, I become aware of this computer by means of some intentional act of representing it as an object. Still, I do not become conscious of myself by means of some act of representing me as an object. He summarizes his criticism of the traditional view of reflexive self-reference in the following terms: The problem with the theory of reflection that Henrich identifies (…) rest on the assumption that we are analyzing something whose essence consists in the identity of knowing and what is known. For someone who does not acknowledge that the phenomenon of self-consciousness has or presupposes this structure, the difficulty does not exist. The difficulty, which is in fact insoluble, is only an outcome of the absurdity of the basic approach.17 In Tugendhat’s view, the problem of the theory of reflection traces back to the subject-object model. The puzzle only emerges because self-consciousness is misconceived as the alleged relation of identification between “I” as the representing subject, and me as the represented object, that results from a selfrepresentation. In other words, the background assumption is that one becomes conscious of oneself by self-identifying oneself as the object of one’s own intentional act of representing. In this regard, Tugendhat is quite right. Yet, Tugendhat’s solution involves a methodological re-orientation toward language: One asks oneself whether this problem disappears – or at least can be solved in any case – under the language-analytical view of epistemic selfconsciousness, understood as that view that proceeds from the assumption that epistemic self-consciousness manifests itself in language, instead of relying on inner awareness.18 Tugendhat’s “sprachanalytische Bhandlung” is characterized by two closely connected tenets. The first – the negative one – is his rejection of the subject-

17 18

Tugendhat, Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung, p. 64. Tugedhat, Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung, p. 54.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

401

object model; the second – the positive one – is his linguistic reduction of the reflexive self-reference linguistic phenomenon to the mode of employment of psychological I-sentences in which one takes a self-ascription of a mental predicate such as “M”. So the understanding of reflexive or knowing self-reference relies on the understanding of the mode of use of the first-person pronoun and on the mode of employing mental predicates. As the ultimate reference point, the first-person pronoun doesn’t identify or pick myself out as one among other individuals in some domain. The lurking question is why. Wittgenstein and Anscombe notwithstanding, Tugendhat holds that the first-person pronoun does refer to my person as someone identifiable from the third-person perspective. Given this, any “I” sentence does express a genuine proposition rather than a mere avowal “Äusserung.” On this basis, Tugendhat states what he calls the semantic principle of veridical symmetry between first-person and third-person psychological sentences: “The sentence (Satz) “I M” is true, if uttered by me, iff the sentence “He M” is true if uttered by someone else who by “he” means me “mich meint.””19 According to Tugendhat, what ensures the veridical symmetry is the reasonable assumption that the indexicals “I” and “he” involved co-refer. When one refers to oneself by means of the first-person pronoun and when someone else (or the person himself) refers to himself by means of the third-person pronoun, one and the same proposition is being expressed: 1. He (Ernst) feels pain. And what Ernst says or thinks 2. I (Ernst) feel pain.20 Yet, the simple co-reference of the indexicals involved is necessary but certainly not enough for the veridical symmetry. Tugendhat overlooks a key assumption. It is also necessary that we take a coarse-grained Russellian proposition as the appropriate model for the content of 1 and 2, in this case a sequence consisting of ⟨Ernst; Pain⟩. Now, although one and the same Russellian proposition is being expressed by 1 and 2, ⟨Ernst; Pain⟩, only by thinking 2 does Ernst know without identification that he self-refers. In opposition to 2, Ernst’s or someone else’s knowledge 19 20

Tugendhat, Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung, p. 75. According to Tugendhat: “With indexical expressions, however, someone can mean a third person with ‘he’. But if he means me ⟨mich meint⟩, as stated in the principle just mentioned, then it is necessary that whom he means with ‘he’ be the same whom I mean with ‘I’.” Tugendhat, Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung, p. 75.

402

sá pereira

of the truth of 1 is based either on the observation of Ernst’s behavior (when the thinker of 2 is someone else) or, in some cases, on inferences. In this way, the principle of veridical symmetry requires that the content expressed by 1 and 2 is modeled by Russellian propositions. Be that as it may. One thing we know for sure is that Tugendhat’s principle of veridical symmetry is what guarantees the communicative exchange when the speakers of 1 and 2 are different persons under different circumstances.

4

The Puzzle Returns

But if the immediate knowledge of oneself as the owner of mental states is negatively described as not based on observations, inferences, and on alleged inner perception, Tugendhat owes us a positive explanation of it. Following Wittgenstein and Shoemaker, Tugendhat holds that psychological first-person sentences are immune to a peculiar error of reference when employed in conformance to the rule. So if Ernst knows the rule of employment of the firstperson pronoun (according to which that pronoun refers to whoever employs a token of it), by employing a token of it, Ernst couldn’t possibly fail to recognize that he is referring to himself whenever he thinks 2. Yet, Tugendhat’s equation of immediate epistemic self-consciousness and the employment of psychological I-sentences in conformity to its rule raises several questions. First, what guarantees the immediate self-knowledge of the content expressed by 2 is certainly not the Russellian proposition consisting of the sequence ⟨Ernst; Pain⟩, but rather the mastering of the token-reflexive rule of employment of the first-personal pronoun. Given this, the appropriate model for capturing the immediate self-knowledge expressed by the content of 2 is some Fregean proposition consisting of the peculiar mode of presentation of Ernst’s expressed rule of employment of “I”, roughly: 3-The individual employing a token of 2 (Ernst) is in pain. The meaningful employment of 3 relies on what Bermúdez has called the token-reflexive rule of the employment of the first-person pronoun: 4- If a person employs a token of ‘I’, then he refers to himself in virtue of being the producer of that token.21 Let us assume just for the sake of argument that Ernst is on the street when he calls his mom to complain about his pain. Since his mother is not at home, the answering machine is automatically activated and Ernst utters sentence 2,

21

Bermúdez, José L. The paradox of self-consciousness. Cambridge: mit Press 1998. p. 15.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

403

recording it on the answering machine. Time goes by and Ernst’s pain is over and he forgets about it. He then returns home and checks the messages on the answering machine. However, when he listens to the messages from the answering machine, Ernst does not recognize his own voice. What conclusion can we draw from this simple case? First, Ernst must assent to the content of sentence 3 (what he listens to when he hears the messages from the answering machine), provided he only masters the semantic of the rule of employment of the first-person pronoun in 4. Yet, at the same time, he can deny the content of 2, modeled as a Russellian proposition, even though the contents of 2 and 3 are veritatively symmetrical. Even worse, as Ernst does not recognize his own voice on the answering machine, even when he assents to 3, he is not knowingly or reflexively self-referring. Reflexive self-refence requires the identify between the employer of the first-personal pronoun with himself. The problem is as Ernst was not born knowing of rule 4, how did he come to master it if he was not already self-conscious in the first place? Interestingly, Henrich gives this reply to Tugendhat’s criticism by claiming: “if we understand the word (‘I’) as an indexical word, the problem is eliminated”;22 that is, the problem is presupposed rather than solved and we are back at Fichte’s puzzle. But Tugendhat never took Henrich’s reply seriously because he never understood the real nature of Fichte’s puzzle.23 The following conclusions are imposing. To be sure, Tugendhat is right when he claims that self-consciousness cannot rely on the traditional subject-object model. Nobody becomes self-conscious by identifying oneself as the object of his own intentional act. Still, to appeal to the token-reflexive rule 4 presupposes rather than solves the problem because in the token-reflexive rule 4 self-identity is presupposed rather than explained. We are back at Fichte’s “circularity”: the employment of tokens of the “I” presupposes reflexive or knowing self-reference rather than explaining it. Tugendhat’s greatest mistake was to assume the original puzzle was linguistic rather than cognitive.

5

Roads Not Taken

The common idea of the Heidelberg school and of phenomenology is that before reflexive or knowing self-reference by means of mastering the tokenreflective rule of the first-person pronoun the individual is “already somehow 22 23

Henrich, “Self-consciousness, a critical introduction to a theory,” p. 49. Indeed, in the seventies, Tugendhat was a Wittgensteinian who believed that great philosophical puzzles only take place because we do not pay attention to ordinary language.

404

sá pereira

acquainted with himself.” That sounds right to me. The question is: how to provide a positive meaning for this claim? In this section I mention roads I believe that we should not take. 1. In his famous book,24 Bermúdez believes that the only solution to this traditional puzzle is the postulation of primitive nonconceptual forms of selfconsciousness.25 To be sure, I believe that a primitive nonlinguistic form of self-consciousness is necessary, but I do not see why this nonlinguistic selfconsciousness must be at the same time nonconceptual. Bermúdez rightly rejects what he calls The Conceptual Requirement Principle, making room for the possibility of nonconceptual contents: The Conceptual Requirement Principle: The range of contents that one may attribute to a creature is directly determined by the concepts that the creature possesses.26 However, he is still closed to the linguistic turn when he accepts the priority principle: The Priority Principle: Conceptual abilities are constitutively linked with linguistic abilities in such a way that conceptual abilities cannot be possessed by nonlinguistic creatures.27 On the phylogenetic scale, genuinely perceptual systems appear in animal species well before belief and propositional attitudes appear. Bees, frogs, pigeons, goldfish, and octopi are, I assume, good examples. Although they lack propositional attitudes, they have visual perceptual systems. The perceptual systems of some of these animals have been thoroughly studied. Scientific explanations of the discriminations, computations, and informational functions of the perceptual systems of lower animals commonly individuate the representational content of visual states partly in terms of properties and relations in the animals’ environment, properties and relations to which the animals bear causal relations – both in sensory reception and in activity. In fact, the best explanations of some of these low-level representational systems attribute perceptions of physical objects in space, and of rudimentary spatial features of and among such objects. For example, computations in the visual system of bees that bear on locating a hive operate on parameters that represent spatial positions and objects in those positions. Yet, there are overwhelming data supporting the assumption that primates and other higher mammals have propositional attitudes-beliefs, conceptual-

24 25 26 27

Bermudez, The paradox, p. 41. I have criticized Bermúdez’s idea of a nonconceptual form of self-consciousness in a number of papers xxx. See Bermudez, The paradox 1998, p. 41. See Bermúdez, The paradox, p. 42. It is noteworthy that Tugendhat and almost all Wittgensteinians endorse this priority principle.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

405

ized wants, and intentions – as well as perceptions. Having beliefs requires having a capacity for inference-for truth- and reason-preserving propositional transitions among propositional attitudes, transitions that are attributable, as activity, to the whole animal. Simple logical, inductive, and means-end inferences are present in the mental activity of higher non-human animals. Moreover, I also assume that primates and other higher mammals that are known to have propositional attitudes-beliefs also have self-notions. A prey cannot think that a predator is coming towards it unless it has a self-notion. Of course, the possession of a self-notion does not mean that the creature knowingly self-refers because without communication there is no need for self-reference in the first place. Thus, I do not see any compelling reason to assume that pre-linguistic infants that are about to learn token-reflexive rule 4 do not possess a self-notion or a self-concept. Against Bermudez, I assume that the hypothesis of possession of a primitive nonlinguistic self-notion is the inference-to-the-best-explanation for mastering token-reflexive rule 4. 2. As a way out of the dilemma, the phenomenologist postulates a prereflexive, intransitive form of access to oneself. In such primary self-disclosure, one doesn’t take oneself as an object either of one’s own inner perceptions or of one’s own thoughts. According to Sartre, for example, it is only the necessity of syntax that compels us to say that we are aware of our experiences or of ourselves. The basic claim is that one’s experiences and thoughts rely upon a peripheral awareness of oneself. When Sartre focuses his attention on some cigarettes (his example), at the same time that he becomes transitively aware that they are twelve in number, he is also pre-reflexively aware that he is counting them.28 There is no infinite regress since, according to Sartre, “there is an immediate, noncognitive relation of the self to itself ”.29 Nonetheless, even if the postulation of a pre-reflexive or intransitive form of self-consciousness avoids the traditional puzzle because there is no need for identification, that is no solution to our problem insofar as the reflexive self-reference (i.e., the fully-fledged self-consciousness) is still understood in all phenomenological traditions as the result of a self-identification (the subjectobject model). Sartre is quite explicit on this point: “[Reflection] is an operation of the second degree … performed by an [act of ] consciousness directed upon consciousness, a consciousness which takes consciousness as an object”.30 So, if Sartre is pre-reflexively aware that he is counting (without taking himself as an object) 28 29 30

Sartre, Jean P. The Transcendence of the Ego. Quoted from Forrest Williams and Robert Kirkpatrick’s translation. New York: Hill and Wang 1956, p. liii. Sartre, The Transcendence, p. 12. Sartre, The Transcendence, p. 44.

406

sá pereira

while he sees some cigarettes, he could only become reflexively conscious of himself by counting when he takes and identifies himself as the object of a second degree consciousness. We are back at the regress. The rational core of Tugendhat’s criticism is his rejection of the traditional subject-object model of self-consciousness. Yet, Tugendhat overlooks that, if self-consciousness does not result from a self-identification, it certainly relies on the self-identity as the most fundamental metaphysical relation that each of us bear to ourselves, namely identity. Thus, we are back at the question of how to make sense of the intuitive idea that we are acquainted with ourselves before we knowingly self-refer by means of the “I”.

6

My Proposal

Let me recap. As we saw, neither the Heidelberg school nor Tugendhat’s language-analytical approach provides a reasonable answer to Fichte’s puzzle of self-consciousness for the reasons I have presented. Moreover, Bermúdez’s recent suggestion of primitive forms nonconceptual self-consciousness or Sartre’s idea of an intransitive or pre-reflexive self-consciousness have little to recommend. So, we are back to Fichte’s obscure ideas of “self-positing” and of “Tathandlung”. How should we understand them? To clarify what Fichte had in mind I need to step back and consider Fichte’s criticism on Kant’s view on self-consciousness. My first step toward a solution of the traditional puzzle is to address the following question: when Fichte criticizes Kant’s view on self-consciousness as one of those belonging to philosophical systems, which presupposes rather than accounts for knowing self-reference, what does Fichte have in mind? This question naturally invites another: wherein lies the difference between Fichte’s and Kant’s views on self-consciousness.31 Let me start with the second question. Regarding this Ivaldo comments: In this philosophy (Fichte’s), the problem of knowledge is raised from the cognitive-theoretical plane to the ontological plane, that is, from the plane of the analysis of the relations between subject and object to the plane of the foundations of such relations, foundations that are, together, principles of theoretical or practical reason.32 31

32

Regarding the original context of the emergency of Fichte’s philosophy, see D’Alfonso, Matteo Vincenzo; De Pascale, Carla; Fuchs, Erich & Ivaldo, Marco (eds.) 2016. Fichte Und Seine Zeit: Kontext, Konfrontationen, Rezeptionen. Brill | Rodopi. Ivaldo, “Doutrina da Ciência e Filosofia Transcendental: Fichte em face de Kant”, Revista

fichte’s original insight reviewed

407

In the same vein, Ausmuth claims: Fichte’s philosophy is subordinated to the primacy of the practical, of life, of the whole of man. A mere reconstruction of the structural elements of the representation [Vorstellung] in the return [Rückgang] to its conditions of possibility would not only be insufficient for Fichte, but it would also not fulfill the task of philosophy. For, according to Fichte, philosophy should not be mainly: – an abstract intellectualism or an intellectualized rationalism.33 Bertinetto calls this “Fichte’s performative ontology”: Critical metaphysics and performative ontology express, in Fichte, the same transcendental position: being, or what appears as being, must be understood beforehand as an effort, as becoming and, as Fichte says from 1800, as life.34 Ivaldo’s, Ausmuth’s, and Bertinetto’s reading traces back to Pareyson’s, the first to call attention to what I want to call here “Fichte’s metaphysical turn in transcendental philosophy”.35 The idea is quite clear from both quotes: Fichte replaces Kant’s problem of knowledge with the metaphysical problem of foundation, turning Kant’s main original focus on theoretical to practical reason. The question is: wherein lies Fichte’s metaphysical turn when we consider the question of self-consciousness? Regarding this Ivaldo claims: He maintains that it is not the fact of consciousness, but an original act of the self (Tathandlung), that is the principle of philosophy. The synthesis between subject and object given in the representation is valid as a determination of empirical consciousness and therefore belongs to the theoretical-cognitive domain of philosophy. But the synthesis pre-

33 34 35

de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 5 | 2012, pp. 3–4. My translation, emphasis added. Regading this, see also Ivaldo 1999, 2005; Ausmuth 2009. Ausmuth, C., “Eu e ser [Sein]. A imagem de Deus e o mundo construído.” Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 19| 2019, p. 4. My translation. See also Ausmuth 2000. Bertinetto, “A ontologia performativa de Fichte.” Aurora, Curitiba, 2015, p. 802. My translation. Pareyson, Fichte. Il sistema della libertà, 2nd edition, Milan: Mursia, 1976. Regarding this, see Asmuth, C.: Przełom “transcendentalny w filozofii Kanta. Przeglad Filozoficzny” – Nowa Seria 52 (4):77–86. Regarding the reception of Fichte’s philosophy in Itally, see Ivaldo 1995, 2001, 2010.

408

sá pereira

supposes a thesis, the fact presupposes an act, the representative consciousness requires a transcendental foundation of itself, which Fichte found in an original activity of the self, which on the one hand does not fall into the representation and which, on the other hand, makes possible the subject-object relationship and, therefore, the entire system of consciousness.36 We find the same idea in Bertinetto: “The I must be understood as a genetic performance (i.e., as Tathandlung) that practically develops as effort, image, or even as a phenomenon of life and as life.”37 The idea is that Fichte’s metaphysical turn led him to replace the putative Kantian fact of consciousness with the original act of the self. Still according to Bertinetto: He (Fichte) carries out an epistemological revision of Kant’s thinking on apperception, by means of establishing the priority of the analytic unity over the synthetic unity and changing the formulation notoriously used by Kant for the explanation of apperception. On the other hand, Fichte’s work consists in grounding apperception ontologically.38 Bertinetto’s idea is that it is not possible to understand how the manifold of given representations is united in an organized and coherent way unless we assume that the identical self (analytical unity of consciousness) what grounds the unity of the given manifold of representations (synthetic unity of consciousness) by genetically performing this very unity of the manifold. Given this, the so-called analytical unity of self-consciousness (the identical self) is the genetic or performative ground of the synthetic unity of conscious and not the way around as Kant claimed.39 Thus, according to the mainstream in Fichte’s scholarship, Fichte and Kant are in opposite camps regarding the question is self-consciousness for epistemological reasons, but above all for ontological, metaphysical and ontological 36 37

38 39

Ausmuth, “Eu e ser [Sein]. A imagem de Deus e o mundo construído.”Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 19| 2019, p. 4. My translation. Bertinetto: “A ontologia performativa de Fichte.” Aurora, Curitiba, 2015, p. 802. My translation. In 2012, Bertinetto, A., “L’appercezione trascendentale nell’ultimo sistema berlinese di Fichte.” Annuario Filosofico 28:325–340 2012. Bertinetto, A., “L’appercezione trascendentale nell’ultimo sistema berlinese di Fichte”. Annuario Filosofico 28, p. 325. Bertinetto, A., “L’appercezione trascendentale nell’ultimo sistema berlinese di Fichte”. Annuario Filosofico 28, p. 329.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

409

reasons. I disagree, at least in part. If their views on self-consciousness concur regarding the ontological status of self-consciousness, namely about the ultimate nature or essence of self-consciousness, they are in full agreement about a key feature of the metaphysics of self-consciousness: as a matter of fact neither for Fichte, but not for Kant either, self-consciousness is a given fact, but rather spontaneous activity in thinking, or so I shall argue below. Be that as it may. Let us assume for the sake of argument that Fichte and Kant are in opposite camps regarding the question is self-consciousness. Following Henrich, I believe that the key passage of A108 is the one that best illustrates their different views:40 Thus the original and necessary consciousness of the identity of oneself is at the same time a consciousness of an equally necessary unity of the synthesis of all appearances in accordance with concepts, i.e., in accordance with the rules that not only make them necessarily reproducible, but also thereby determine an object for their intuition, i.e., the concept of something in which they are necessarily connected; for the mind could not possibly think of the identity of itself in the manifoldness of its representations, and indeed think this a priori, if it did not have before its eyes the identity of its action, which subjects all synthesis of apprehension (which is empirical) to a transcendental unity, and first makes possible their connection in accordance with a priori rules. (A108, emphasis added) Based on the metaphysical turn in transcendental philosophy, the quote may be read as if Kant was assuming that the self-conscious mind has an a priori awareness of its own identity prior to the action of synthesis, prior to its Tathandlung as if Kant has overlooked what Ausmuth, Bertinetto et al call genetic or performative character of self-consciousness. Regarding this, first, Kant is supposedly presupposing the identity of the self as a thinking being and the self as the object of thought rather than accounting for it. Second, Kant is overlooking the genetic or performative character of self-consciousness. But is that what Kant in fact has in mind? A careful reading of one quote clearly indicates that this is not the case. In the quote Kant claims that the identity of the mind is dependent on “its action” of subjecting the synthesis. The awareness of the self’s identity is dependent on an “action” of unification of representations that the “self” performs. 40

Henrich, Identität und Objektivität: Eine Untersuchung über Kants transzendentale Deduktion (Heidelberg: Winter, 1976), p. 64.

410

sá pereira

Interestingly, Tugendhat dismisses Kant’s theory of transcendental selfconsciousness as “obscure”.41 But several of Kant’s scholars have adopted his semantic analyses of psychological I-φ sentences as the best model for Kant’s transcendental self-consciousness just to avoid the Fichtean puzzle. The underlying assumption was that both Fichte and the Heidelberg school misunderstood Kant by assuming that self-consciousness for Kant is a self-relation, best modeled by the traditional subject-object framework. Indeed, by all accounts Tugendhat’s semantic model seemed to be far more attractive. So, the Kantian “I think” that must be able to accompany all my representations is best couched by Tugendhat’s view of self-consciousness as “immediate epistemic self-reference” in terms of: “I know that I φ” (where “φ” stands for a predicate describing a generic conscious state).42 Was that correct? If Tugendhat’s analytical-linguistic approach does not solve Fichte’s puzzle, his “immediate epistemic self-consciousness” does not work as an appropriate model for Kant’s transcendental self-consciousness either. But why is that so? Well, in both his transcendental deduction and in his Paralogisms, Kant left no doubt that the “I think” of transcendental selfconsciousness refers to no entity whatsoever (material or immaterial). Rather, the “I think” refers to spontaneous agency in thinking. Therefore, all occurrences, the first-personal pronouns “I” and “me” and possessives “my” and “mine”, do not designate in Kant conscious states of a person. Given this, Fichte and Kant are not in opposite camps when what is at stake is the primary reference of the first-person pronoun “I”. Both agree that the first-person pronoun “I” primarily refers to spontaneous agency in thinking, which Fichte calls Tathandlung.43 If such an assumption is not in accordance with the semantic analysis of the common use of the first person pronoun that Tugendhat proposes, so much the worse for the semantic analysis. Now, if Kant’s and Fichte’s views on self-consciousness are in agreement about the reference of “I”, the lurking question is where their views concur.

41 42 43

Tugendhat, Selbstbewußtsein und Selbstbestimmung, p. 52. Cramer 1990. Regarding this, Fichte misunderstood Kant’s position, at least according to Ivaldo’s reading: “Until Kant, in Fichte’s opinion, the absolute was understood as a thing, mere objectivity in itself. In an analogous – and unilateral – view of the absolute, those commentators or Kant’s continuers who claim to want to start from the self (and not the thing) fail, by objectifying the self and conceiving it as consciousness in itself.” “Doutrina da Ciência e Filosofia Transcendental: Fichte em face de Kant”, Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte, 5 | 2012, p. 5. The translation is mine. As a matter of fact, Kant has always criticized attempts at objectifying self-consciousness.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

411

Let me first consider Kant’s account of empirical self-knowledge in his BDeduction: The I think expresses the act of determining my existence. The existence is thereby already given, but the way in which I am to determine it, i.e., the manifold that I am to posit in myself as belonging to it, is not yet thereby given. For that self-intuition is required, which is grounded in an a priori given form, i.e., time, which is sensible and belongs to the receptivity of the determinable. Now I do not have yet another self-intuition, which would give the determining in me, of the spontaneity of which alone I am conscious, even before the act of determination, in the same way as time gives that which is to be determined, thus I cannot determine my existence as that of a self-active being, rather I merely represent the spontaneity of my thought, i.e., of the determining, and my existence always remains only sensibly determinable, i.e., determinable as the existence of an appearance. Yet this spontaneity is the reason I call myself an intelligence.44 According to Kant, self-knowledge depends on self-determination of the inner sense by the spontaneous act of transcendental thinking. By contrast, Fichte seems to assume an intuitive evidence of “I” in any spontaneous act of thinking, which Fichte’s employment of the term intellectual “Selbstanschauung” seems to indicate: I am active in representing: if this is intuited as it is, this intuition would be intellectual. Pure self-awareness is intellectual intuition, that is, it is certainty of activity: it cannot be demonstrated by something else: whoever does not have it is not made for philosophy.45 The idea is not that whenever I think I am thereby intellectually aware of the existence of myself as a conscious thinking substance, as Descartes originally claimed. Intellectual self-intuition is not the intuition of the self as an object that the understanding immediately represents whenever one thinks about oneself as a thinking subject. To avoid this possible misunderstanding, Fichte added that his intellectual self-intuition “does not contradict the Kantian sys44 45

Kant, Critique, B157–158. Original emphasis in bold. W. Kabitz, Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Fichteschen Wissenschaftslehre aus der Kantischen Philosophie, mit bisher ungedruckten Stucken aus Fichtes Nachlass, Berlin, Reuther & Reichard, 1902., p. 83.

412

sá pereira

tem [and that] Kant only rejects a sensible intellectual intuition, and rightly so”.46 Given this, Fichte’s idea of intellectual self-intuition is that whenever I think I am thereby intellectually aware of myself as sheer spontaneous agency in thinking. Now if both Kant and Fichte reject objectifying views of the self, their views in fact concur at least in one fundamental respect. Kant sees the “I” of thinking as a mere logical “I”, that is, as an empty vehicle of concepts. Moreover, according to Kant, I am not allowed to claim that I know that I am in essence a spontaneous thinking activity. The underlying nature of the self is a noumenon, the unknown thing in itself. In contrast, by claiming that I intellectually self-intuit myself as spontaneous thinking activity, Fichte is holding that the underlying nature or essence of the self is agency in thinking: Tathandlung.47 To be sure, Kant is right (against Descartes) when he claims that I am not allowed to infer from the fact that I think that I am a thinking being, let alone thinking immaterial substance. Now, regardless of whether Kant’s notion of noumenon is meaningful or not,48 Kant is wrong when claims that from the fact that I think, I am allowed to infer only that I am or that I exist. The fact that I become conscious of myself by performing my spontaneous activity in thinking allows me to conclude ay the very least that I am essentially a thinking agency. Of course, this answer does not settle the dispute between materialism and immaterialism. It is not supposed to be a solution to the traditional mind-body problem in philosophy of mind. Still, Fichte is showing a minimal ontological commitment of the cogito.49 Now the idea the “I” originally and transcendentally refers to a sheer spontaneous agency in thinking is certainly a first step in solving the puzzle of selfconsciousness. At that transcendental level, the puzzle does not arise because there is no need for self-identification in the first place. Transcendental selfknowledge results from the sui generis intellectual Selbstanschauung that

46

47 48

49

Fichte, Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Hr. Pr. Fichte, in Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, pt. iv, vol. 2 ed. Reinhard Lauth et al. [Stuttgart Bad-Canstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1978], p. 31. Fichte, Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Hr. Pr. Fichte, p. 31. As it is well known, Fichte rejects Kant’s notion of noumenon or things in itself. The idea that there are “things-in-itself” is a “protestatio facto contraria”, as he writes in the first Transcendental Logic. We shall not try to do justice to this controversy about Fichte’s rejection of Kantian notion of noumenon; for this would require an extended discussion of the secondary literature about the nature of Kant’s and Fichte’s idealism. That lies far beyond the scope of this paper. That what Bertinetto suggestivey calls “performative ontology”. Bertinetto: “A ontologia performativa de Fichte.” Aurora, Curitiba, 2015, p. 802. My translation.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

413

everyone has of oneself as sheer spontaneous agency in thinking. The second step required is to account for the knowingly self-reference in empirical selfconsciousness. Now the question is: what connects the spontaneous activity in thinking and the finite, embodied individual self? Breazeale provides us with a clue: Transcendental philosophy is thus an effort to analyze what is in fact the single, synthetic act through which the I posits for itself both itself and its world, thereby becoming aware in a single moment of both its freedom and its limitations, its infinity and its finitude. The result of such an analysis is the recognition that, although “the I simply posits itself,” its freedom is never “absolute” or “unlimited”; instead, freedom proves to be conceivable – and hence the I itself proves to be possible – only as limited and finite. Despite widespread misunderstanding of this point, the Wissenschaftslehre is not a theory of the absolute I. Instead, the conclusion of both the Foundation of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre and of the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo is that the “absolute I” is a mere abstraction and that the only sort of I that can actually exist or act is a finite, empirical, embodied, individual self.50 The self as free spontaneous activity in abstracto exists in concreto as a finite, empirical embodied self. According to Breazeale, the key notion here is Fichte’s Anstoß, understood as the original limitation of the sheer spontaneity of the I: “The Anstoß thus provides the essential occasion or impetus that first sets in motion the entire complex train of activities that finally result in our conscious experience both of ourselves as empirical individuals and of a world of spatiotemporal material objects.”51 Concerning the conscious experience of ourselves, Fichte’s Anstoß gives rise to proprioception, bodily sensations, feeling, and kinesthesis. I am empirically conscious of myself whenever I feel pain, whenever I am standing, whenever I am running, etc. Regarding such empirical selfconsciousness, we can use the notion of “self-acquaintance” because what is in question here is something that dispenses with identification. Reference to the embodied self dispenses with any self-identification because it is based on the fundamental metaphysical relation everybody has to their own body, namely identity. 50

51

Breazeale, “Johann Gottlieb Fichte”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2018 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), url = https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2018/​ entries/johann‑fichte/, pp. 19–20. Breazeale, “Johann Gottlieb Fichte”, p. 20.

414

sá pereira

Bibliography Asmuth, Christoph. “Przełom transcendentalny w filozofii Kanta Przeglad Filozoficzny”. Nowa Seria 52 (2004): pp. 77–86. Asmuth. “Logik, Sprache, Wissenschaftslehre” Fichte-Studien 34 (2009): pp. 325–341. Asmuth. “Fichtes Theorie des Ich in der Königsberger Wissenschaftslehre von 1807”. Fichte-Studien 17 (2000): pp. 269–282. Ausmuth. “Eu e ser [Sein]. A imagem de Deus e o mundo construído.” Revista de Estud(i)os sobre Fichte [Online] 19 (2019): pp. 1–9. My translation. Bermúdez, José L. The paradox of self-consciousness. Cambridge: mit Press 1998. Bertinetto, Alessandro. “L’appercezione trascendentale nell’ultimo sistema berlinese di Fichte”.Annuario Filosofico 28 (2012): pp. 325–340. Bertinetto: “A ontologia performativa de Fichte.” Aurora, Curitiba, (2015): pp. 801–817 My translation. Breazeale., Daniel. “Johann Gottlieb Fichte”The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2018 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), url = https://plato.stanford.edu/​ archives/sum2018/entries/johann‑fichte/ pp. 19–20. Cramer, Krammer. “Erlebnis”. In: H. Gadamer, Stuttgarter Hegel Tage. Bonn 1974. D’Alfonso, Matteo Vincenzo; De Pascale, Carla; Fuchs, Erich & Ivaldo, Marco (eds.). Fichte Und Seine Zeit: Kontext, Konfrontationen, Rezeptionen. Brill | Rodopi 2016. Fichte, Johan G. Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre. gwl Jena und Leipzig 1794/95. Foundations of the Entire Science of Knowledge. Trans. Peter Heath. In Fichte: Science of Knowledge (Wissenschaftslehre), ed. Peter Heath and John Lachs, New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1970; 2nd ed., Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Evans, Gareth. The Varieties of Reference. Oxford University Press, 1982. Heidegger, Martin. Die Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie, Frankfurt a. Main 1989. Henrich, Dieter. Fichtes ursprüngliches Einsicht. Frankfurt a. M. 1966. Henrich, D.: “Self-consciousness, a critical introduction to a theory.” Man and World 4 (1970, 1): pp. 3–28. Henrich. Identität und Objektivität: Eine Untersuchung über Kants transzendentale Deduktion. Heidelberg: Winter 1976. Henrich: “Selbstsein und Bewusstsein.” http://www.jp.philo.at/texte/HenrichD1.pdf. 2007. Ivaldo, Marco. “Transzendentale Logik”. Fichte-Studien 15 (1999): pp. 240–248. Ivaldo. “L’impulso dell’Istituto italiano per gli studi filosofici di Napoli alla ricerca su Fichte”. Iride: Filosofia e Discussione Pubblica 14 (2001): pp. 383–404. Ivaldo, Marco. “Johann Gottlieb Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre von 1810”. Fichte-Studien 25 (2005): pp. 199–203. Ivaldo. “Fichte in Italien”. Fichte-Studien 25 (2010): pp. 205–225.

fichte’s original insight reviewed

415

Pothast, Ulrich. Über einige Fragen der Selbstbeziehung. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann 1974. Sartre, Jean P. The Transcendence of the Ego. Trans. Forrest Williams and Robert Kirkpatrick. New York: Hill and Wang 1956. Shoemaker, Sydney. The first-person perspective and other essays. New York, Cambridge University Press 1996. Tugendhat, Ernst. Selbstbewusstsein und Selbstbestimmung Sprachanalytische Interpretationen. Frankfurt am Main: 1979. My translation. Wittgenstein, Ludwick. The Blue and Brown Books. Oxford: Blackwell 1958.

20 Images de l’absolu: Phénoménologie matérielle et phénoménologie fichtéenne Frédéric Seyler

Résumé Si ce qu’il faut entendre par «phénoménologie» diffère sensiblement de Fichte à Henry, il n’en reste pas moins que c’est au même problème que se confrontent ces deux pensées, dès lors qu’elles peuvent être lues comme deux approches de l’absolu comme vie, c’est-à-dire de ce qui en soi échappe nécessairement à l’emprise du voir et du concept. En effet, si la vie est par essence invisible, elle doit se dérober à toute vue et, ainsi, à tout discours qui prétendrait la saisir. Or, c’est là justement ce que prétend faire une phénoménologie de la vie en tant qu’elle est philosophie. En plaçant la reconnaissance de l’absolu au cœur de leur démarche, la phénoménologie matérielle et la phénoménologie fichtéenne présentée dans le second exposé de la Wissenschaftslehre de 1804 posent toutes deux la question des conditions de possibilité d’un savoir et d’un dire de cette reconnaissance. D’un point de vue éthique cependant, la question capitale de la forme existentielle que pourrait prendre pareille reconnaissance dans l’ordre de l’agir reste ouverte.

Mots-clés phénoménologie – vie – immanence – subjectivité – absolu – image

Abstract Although the meaning of «phenomenology» significantly differs from Fichte to Henry, it is nonetheless a similar problem that both thinkers encounter since they both can be read as conceiving of the absolute as life, i.e. as that which essentially and necessarily escapes the power of the concept as well as that of sight. If life is according to its very essence invisible, then it must remain outside the realms of intuition and discourse. On the other hand, life is precisely what a phenomenology of life as a philosophical discourse is aiming at. By placing the recognition of the absolute in the center of

© Frédéric Seyler, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_021

images de l’ absolu

417

their approach, both Henry’s material phenomenology and Fichte’s phenomenology – presented in his 1804 Wissenschaftslehre Zweiter Vortrag – raise the question of the conditions of possibility enabling such knowing and recognition. From an ethical point of view, however, the decisive question, that of the existential form that this recognition could take in the realm of action, remains open.

Keywords phenomenology – life – immanence – subjectivity – absolute – image

Comment une phénoménologie de la vie est-elle possible ?1 Telle est la question que Michel Henry pose à l’égard de sa propre démarche, au moment où celle-ci rencontre l’aporie qu’elle avait elle-même suscitée à travers sa critique de la pensée, c’est-à-dire, aussi et surtout, à travers sa critique du voir de l’ intentionnalité. En effet, si la vie est par essence invisible, elle doit se dérober à toute vue et, ainsi, à tout discours qui prétendrait la saisir. Or, c’ est là justement ce que prétend faire une phénoménologie de la vie en tant qu’ elle est philosophie et «qu’un ouvrage de philosophie n’est autre qu’ une série d’ intuitions ou d’évidences se voulant liées selon des enchaînements nécessaires et formulées dans des propositions dont la donation – la lecture ou l’ écriture – demande elle-même au voir, au Logos grec, sa possibilité.»2 Il s’ agit évidemment d’ un problème essentiel, puisque c’est par la réponse qui lui sera donnée que seront décidées, du même coup, la légitimité et la possibilité de la phénoménologie de la vie elle-même. Or, il est remarquable que la Wissenschaftslehre tardive rencontre cette même aporie sous la forme d’une contradiction performative entre son faire (Tun) et son dire (Sagen), contradiction qu’elle thématise explicitement et dont le dépassement possible doit être étudié.3 Pour Fichte, comme pour Henry, l’absolu en tant que tel ne peut semble-t-il se trouver dans ce que nous, y compris en tant que sujets pensants et philosophants, voyons et apercevons, car c’est là quelque chose de simplement objectif, mais bien dans ce

1 Une première version de cet article a été publiée dans Alea. International Journal for Phenomenology and Hermeneutics, 10/2012, 105-128. 2 Henry, M., Incarnation. Paris 2000, p. 122. 3 Cette thématique se retrouve d’ ailleurs dès la Grundlage pour laquelle elle constitue une dimension fondamentale. I. Thomas-Fogiel, Critique de la représentation. Etude sur Fichte. Paris 2000, structure l’ ensemble de sa lecture de la gwl autour de ce point.

418

seyler

que nous sommes et vivons intérieurement.4 Mais alors, comment un dire de l’ absolu est-il possible, comment la Wissenschaftslehre5 est-elle possible ? Tel est d’ailleurs le sens de la phénoménologie fichtéenne: tandis que la Wahrheitslehre du deuxième cycle des conférences berlinoises de 1804 se résume dans les quelques lignes qui ouvrent la seizième conférence6 – l’ absolu est singularité close sur elle-même où être et vie coïncident de façon immédiate, c’ est-à-dire pure activité ou esse in mero actu – la Erscheinungslehre, est entièrement consacrée à l’apparaître de l’absolu, c’est-à-dire à son apparaître dans et par le savoir (Wissen) dont l’étude est justement la phénoménologie. Si ce qu’il faut entendre par «phénoménologie » diffère sensiblement de Fichte à Henry, il n’en reste pas moins que c’est au même problème que se confrontent ces deux pensées de l’absolu et, si elles le font, c’ est parce qu’ elle sont des pensées de l’absolu comme vie, c’est-à-dire de ce qui en soi échappe nécessairement à l’emprise du voir et du concept.7 Quant à leur solution, on le verra, elle réside dans les deux cas dans la coïncidence du sujet pensant avec l’absolu comme vie, là où le premier n’est plus que l’expression du second.

4 Fichte, J.G., Die Wissenschaftslehre. Zweiter Vortrag im Jahre 1804. In: J.G. Fichte, Gesamtausgabe der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Nachgelassene Schriften, Band 8, Herausgegeben von R. Lauth und H. Gliwitzky, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1985 (abrégé ga ii 8), p. 86-87 et surtout p. 232-233 (la seconde page indiquant à chaque référence la variante de la Copia qui est ici citée et traduite, tandis que la première renvoie à celle des Sämtliche Werke). 5 Aussi abrégé de manière usuelle par « wl ». 6 C’ est notamment la thèse de Widmann, J., Die Grundstruktur des transzendentalen Wissens nach J.G. Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre 1804. Hamburg 1977, ce qui l’amène à considérer la quasitotalité de l’ exposé de 1804 comme Erscheinungslehre, c’est-à-dire comme phénoménologie. Pour une vue d’ ensemble sur le rapport entre Fichte et la tradition phénoménologique, cf. aussi : Waibel, V., Breazeale, D., Rockmore, T. (éds), Fichte and the Phenomenological Tradition. Berlin/New York 2010. 7 Il ne s’ agit donc pas ici de mener une étude sur la réception de Fichte par Michel Henry. Celle-ci se limite d’ ailleurs à l’Anweisung zum seligen Leben (1806) que Henry discute dans L’ Essence de la manifestation. Paris 1990 (1ère édition : 1963). L’ouvrage de R. Kühn, Anfang und Vergessen. Phänomenologische Lektüre des deutsche Idealismus – Fichte, Schelling, Hegel. Stuttgart 2004, p. 33-123 présente par ailleurs une lecture phénoménologique très détaillée de Fichte à partir de la phénoménologie de la vie et représente actuellement le travail le plus complet à ce sujet. On trouve également une étude partielle et centrée sur la problématique éthique dans : Frédéric Seyler, Barbarie ou culture. L’éthique de l’affectivité dans la phénoménologie de Michel Henry. Paris 2010, p. 279-299 et « La réception de Fichte et de Schelling dans la phénoménologie de Michel Henry » in Fichte und Schelling: Der Idealismus in der Diskussion. Volume iii : Acta des Brüsseler Kongresses 2009 der Internationalen J.G. Fichte-Gesellschaft [en ligne]. Toulouse 2017.

images de l’ absolu

1

419

Le dépassement de la contradiction performative

C’est tardivement, à savoir aux paragraphes 15 et 16 de Incarnation, que Michel Henry aborde explicitement la question des conditions de possibilité de son propre discours, c’est-à-dire de la phénoménologie de la vie8 elle-même en tant qu’elle est une philosophie. Ces pages sont d’ une importance capitale. A travers elles, en effet, la phénoménologie matérielle entreprend de mettre en jeu sa propre légitimité philosophique. La phénoménologie radicale est-elle trop radicale, outrepasse-t-elle les limites assignées à la méthode phénoménologique en voulant faire voir l’invisible? Ou, sa radicalité est-elle au contraire fondée dans la réalité même de son objet – la vie – et, par conséquent, non seulement légitime mais même nécessaire? L’argumentation qui permettra à Michel Henry de dépasser le statut apparemment contradictoire d’un discours offrant à voir l’ invisible, c’ est-à-dire ici d’une pensée qui pense ce qui lui échappe par essence, mérite qu’ on s’ y attarde. Elle s’analyse comme suit: On peut tout d’ abord y trouver, en quelque sorte à titre de «prolégomènes», une théorie tout à fait capitale de l’ image. Il est en effet faux de dire que, pour la phénoménologie matérielle, la vie n’est pas susceptible d’être représentée. Seulement, cette représentation de la vie est intrinsèquement limitée par son statut de représentation – elle représente ce qu’elle n’est pas – et par le statut phénoménologique de son objet : la vie n’est pas une représentation, quand bien même il s’ agirait d’ une représentation de la vie, et elle n’est pas en tant que telle, c’ est-à-dire dans son essence affective et immanente, susceptible d’ être représentée. C’ est donc seulement en tant qu’autre qu’elle-même, précisément en tant qu’ image projetée dans l’horizon de l’extériorité, qu’elle «entre» dans l’ ordre de la représentation: Nous pouvons alors former une re-présentation [de la vie], en jeter hors de nous l’image ou l’«essence», de telle façon qu’ en celles-ci ce n’est jamais la vie réelle dans son pathos qui nous est donnée, mais seulement son double, une copie, une image, quelque équivalent objectif en effet mais vide, fragile, aussi incapable de vivre que de subsister par lui-même. Et c’est pour cela en effet que nous l’appelons une image. Car le propre de toute image, c’est de ne pouvoir exister que soutenu par une presta-

8 Ou : « phénoménologie matérielle» et « phénoménologie radicale». Comme on le sait, Michel Henry a proposé ces termes comme équivalents pour désigner son orientation phénoménologique.

420

seyler

tion de la vie, l’acte d’imagination qui la forme et la maintient devant son regard, sans lequel elle s’effondre immédiatement dans le néant.9 Mais un autre attendu, également central dans le passage qui vient d’ être cité, doit être immédiatement souligné. C’est que la vie n’entre pas seulement dans l’ image comme ce qui est représenté, en termes fichtéens comme Abgebildetes, mais d’une certaine façon aussi comme ce qui représente, dans le sens de ce qui non seulement soutient, mais même produit la représentation: aucune représentation, et donc aussi aucun discours, ne peut venir à l’ existence ni se maintenir en elle sans une «prestation de la vie». Et cela vaut bien évidemment aussi pour une image-de-la-vie, qui est dès lors de la vie en un double sens, à la fois subjectif et objectif, intérieur et extérieur, immanent et transcendant, ou encore: affectif et intentionnel. Ce n’est là, d’ailleurs, que l’ application si l’ on peut dire in concreto d’une thèse centrale de la phénoménologie matérielle, à savoir de celle qui affirme l’existence irréductible d’ une relation de fondement entre l’affectivité – ou la vie, et donc en fin de compte la vie absolue –, d’ une part, et l’intentionnalité d’autre part. Toute image, toute production langagière, toute pensée discursive, de même que toute intuition et jusqu’ au monde luimême, trouve son fondement réel dans le devenir immanent de l’ affectivité sans lequel ces éléments intentionnels «s’effondreraient immédiatement dans le néant». Or, cette «thèse du fondement» se trouve être en tension avec une autre, tout aussi essentielle pour la phénoménologie de Michel Henry, à savoir celle de la duplicité de l’apparaître. A première vue, toutefois, il n’y a ni tension ni contradiction, mais bien complémentarité. C’ est bien parce qu’ il y a deux modes d’apparaître que l’on peut envisager que l’ un de ces modes soit le fondement de l’autre. En d’autres termes: dire que l’ affectivité immanente fonde l’ intentionnalité ne peut avoir de sens que si l’ on est en mesure de distinguer effectivement l’une de l’autre comme deux modes d’ apparaître distincts. C’est là le sens du dualisme henryen et ce qui représente le versant positif de la critique du monisme ontologique entreprise dès L’ Essence de la manifestation. Mais l’on voit tout de suite la tension considérable qui habite ces deux thèses et qui laisse planer la «menace» du monisme à peine dénoncé sur la phénoménologie matérielle elle-même: si l’affectivité est bel et bien le fondement de toute réalité, elle en est en même temps l’ unique source. L’apparaître

9 Michel Henry, Incarnation, op. cit., p. 132. Souligné dans le texte (de même par la suite lorsque rien n’ est indiqué).

images de l’ absolu

421

intentionnel est en ce sens un Schein au sens du Fichte de 1804, c’ est-à-dire une apparence ou, plus exactement et pour s’en tenir à la phénoménologie henryenne, une autonomie ou indépendance seulement apparente. En réalité, l’ intentionnalité est dépourvue de toute subsistance. Elle ne tient son pouvoir et sa réalité que de l’affectivité. Cette dernière est cependant en retrait, se fait oublier, comme le suggère Michel Henry,10 générant ainsi l’ illusion d’ un seul mode d’apparaître – qui n’est alors plus vu comme un mode mais bien comme l’ apparaître en tant que tel et en son essence –, celui de l’ intentionnalité. Cette dépendance à la fois ontologique et phénoménologique de l’ intentionnalité à l’ égard de l’affectivité, le «néant» pur et simple de la première en l’ absence de la seconde, signifie à tout le moins que tout voir intentionnel est affectif.11 Toute image étant de la vie parce que provenant d’ elle et étant soutenue par elle, seule une partie d’entre elles sont aussi des images de la vie dans le sens où ce qu’elles entendent représenter est justement la vie elle-même. Font partie de cette dernière catégorie toutes les philosophies de la vie et donc aussi celle de Michel Henry, dès lors que la phénoménologie matérielle est bien une philosophie. La phénoménologie matérielle elle-même est ainsi une image de l’ absolu comme vie. Mais, dès lors qu’elle n’est pas la seule, dès lors qu’ elle est une philosophie de la vie parmi d’autres philosophies de la vie, on demandera sur quoi elle se fonde pour assurer, non son statut d’ image engendrée par la vie puisque cela est semble-t-il vrai de toute image, mais bien son statut d’ image vraie de la vie qu’elle représente et décrit à travers la médiation du discours philosophique. La question est décisive puisque cette fois ce n’est plus seulement la légitimité du discours sur la vie qui est interrogée mais bien sa vérité. Autre-

10

11

On demandera cependant ce que signifie un tel « retrait»: si, en effet, les deux modes d’ apparaître entrainent la délimitation de deux domaines phénoménaux bien distincts, on ne comprend plus en quel sens l’ un pourrait être en soi en retrait par rapport à l’autre ni par qui il pourrait être oublié. Si l’ affectivité peut être «en retrait», ce ne peut être que relativement, c’ est-à-dire du point de vue de l’ intentionnalité (cf. Incarnation, p. 266). Mais alors, soit c’ est à un énoncé analytique que l’on a à faire, puisque c’est en vertu de son essence même que l’ intentionnalité est incapable d’appréhender l’affectivité, soit « retrait» et « oubli » ont un sens autre que simplement analytique, ce qui implique d’ envisager un étant pour lequel l’ affectivité et l’ intentionnalité existent conjointement. Mais cela n’est pas encore suffisant pour expliquer le phénomène du retrait. Pour cela, il faut encore que cet étant – à savoir ce vivant particulier qu’est l’homme – possède, pour une raison à déterminer, une « propension à privilégier» l’intentionnalité. Cette dépendance doit cependant être clarifiée : si l’affectivité constitue bien la matérialité de l’ intentionnalité, va-t-elle jusqu’ à en déterminer entièrement le contenu noématique, par exemple ?

422

seyler

ment dit, comment la phénoménologie matérielle peut-elle asseoir la vérité de son propre discours? La réponse ne peut semble-t-il être que la suivante : c’est par la vie elle-même, et par la vie seule, qu’ il est possible de s’ assurer de la vérité de la phénoménologie de la vie comme pensée discursive: Dans la pensée de la préséance de la vie sur la pensée, c’ est donc la vie, en son accomplissement phénoménologique effectif, la vie toujours déjà accomplie en laquelle cette pensée est donnée à elle-même, qui permet à celle-ci 1°/ d’être une pensée, une cogitatio, 2°/ d’ être, éventuellement, cette pensée particulière bien qu’essentielle qui procède au renversement, qui se montre capable de penser la préséance de la vie sur la pensée et comme la condition intérieure de celle-ci. C’ est parce que, donnée à soi dans l’auto-donation de la vie, la pensée porte celle-ci en elle comme sa substance même et ainsi comme un acquis essentiel, qu’ elle peut se représenter cette vie, en produire l’image ou l’ essence. Toute la méthode phénoménologique qui s’efforce de penser la vie repose sur cette donation préalable, qui n’est le fait ni de la phénoménologie ni de la pensée. C’est toujours la vie qui rend possible son auto-objectivation dans la pensée, comme la condition intérieure de cette pensée aussi bien que de son objet.12 La condition de possibilité de la phénoménologie matérielle réside ainsi dans le fait même qu’elle décrit, à savoir dans la «préséance de la vie sur la pensée » et dans le fait que la vie dans son auto-donation est la « substance même » de la pensée. La pensée vraie ne fait alors que décrire aussi adéquatement qu’ une image peut le faire cette préséance de la vie, cette auto-donation comme condition de toute pensée. Ce passage du §16 éclaire pour ainsi dire le « mode de production» de la phénoménologie matérielle: elle est permise par la vie ellemême, en est en quelque sorte l’émanation dans l’ ordre discursif. La phénoménologie matérielle est ainsi ce moment où, comme dans la Wissenschaftslehre, l’ absolu s’exprime et se saisit dans l’ordre de la pensée. Pourtant, il ne s’ agit là que d’une possibilité.13 Bien des discours, en effet, sont possibles. Et bien des philosophies de la vie sont incompatibles avec la phénoménologie matérielle.

12 13

Michel Henry, Incarnation, op. cit., p. 136. Cf. également: Ibid., p. 131-132: « C’ est parce que dans l’Archi-intelligibilité en laquelle la vie absolue vient en soi, nous sommes venus en nous-mêmes dans notre condition de vivants, en possession de cette vie qui nous a mis en possession de nous-mêmes, la connaissant ainsi de la façon dont elle se connaît elle-même – dans l’Archi-intelligibilité de son pathos –, que nous pouvons alors en former une re-présentation». Nous soulignons.

images de l’ absolu

423

La phénoménologie matérielle apparaît alors comme ce moment de grâce où le devenir de l’affectivité oriente la pensée vers la production de sa représentation adéquate. Mais ce discours qu’est la phénoménologie matérielle doit aussi être reçu et le caractère vrai de la représentation qu’il propose éprouvé. A ce propos, Michel Henry souligne «qu’il revient au lecteur d’apprécier lui-même [les résultats de la phénoménologie matérielle] selon l’impératif phénoménologique : en les rapportant aux phénomènes de sa propre vie tels qu’ils lui sont donnés dans cette vie et par elle.»14 Or, le recours à l’évidence comme critère de vérité étant barré par l’essence même de la vie comme auto-affection immanente et invisible, c’ est bien par l’accès direct de chaque lecteur à cette vie comme auto-donation que la vérité de la phénoménologie matérielle peut et doit être éprouvée. Cet accès direct est de l’ordre du savoir de la vie et il est de l’ ordre de la certitude.15

2

«Qu’avons-nous besoin des Écritures? » ou : De l’ utilité d’ une parole du monde qui parle de la Vie

Mais si, «parce que la vie se révèle originairement à soi dans son épreuve pathétique qui ne doit rien au monde, […] tout vivant sait d’ un savoir absolu – de ce savoir de la vie qui l’engendre en lui donnant de s’ éprouver soi-même et de vivre – ce qu’il en est de la vie et de lui-même »16, on demandera quelle utilité peut encore avoir une expression de ce savoir dans l’ ordre en quelque sorte «affaibli» du discursif et de l’intentionnalité. Pourquoi, en effet, ce savoir devrait-il se révéler deux fois, une fois dans l’affectivité immanente où, ne pouvant pas ne pas être, il est toujours donné et à tous, et, une seconde fois, dans l’ ordre de la pensée où il est seulement possible ? Michel Henry a explicitement abordé cette question dans deux textes au moins : « Parole et religion: la Parole de Dieu» (1992) et «Phénoménologie matérielle et langage (ou pathos et langage)» (1996).17 Dans ce second texte, et à la question « A quoi bon la phénoménologie?», Michel Henry répond que la tâche de la phénoménologie matérielle consiste à «penser après coup, [à] se représenter la vie »18 (mais non 14 15 16 17

18

Ibid, p. 265, n. 1. Michel Henry, Incarnation, op. cit., p. 128-129. Ibid., p. 135. Nous soulignons. Cette question est par ailleurs abordée, quoique plus «latéralement», dans les trois derniers ouvrages de Michel Henry et, plus particulièrement, dans Paroles du Christ. Paris 2002 qui reprend également des éléments de « Parole et religion». Michel Henry, « Phénoménologie matérielle et langage (ou pathos et langage)» in Phénoménologie de la vie, tome iii. Paris 2004, p. 347.

424

seyler

à la révéler ou la découvrir) et ainsi à «fonder la méthode phénoménologique en procédant à sa critique radicale».19 Toutefois, la mission de la phénoménologie matérielle n’est pas seulement théorique: elle « rend la parole à la Vie »20 et «l’écoute de cette parole, là où elle parle et de la façon dont elle le fait, apparaîtra peut-être à une humanité démise d’ elle-même et vouée au nihilisme comme l’unique moyen de son salut.»21 Mais alors l’ utilité recherchée se trouve bien dans la réponse donnée à un besoin, tant épistémologique (fonder la méthode phénoménologique) qu’éthique (échapper au nihilisme, trouver le salut), et il faut alors admettre que ce besoin ne peut être satisfait par la seule révélation immanente de la vie à elle-même, mais bien par sa représentation dans l’ordre discursif. Pourtant, comme Michel Henry le souligne par ailleurs, le salut est l’œuvre de la vie et cette œuvre peut très bien se passer de philosophie.22 C’est aussi ce qui semble découler de «Parole et religion» où l’ auteur, dans un parallèle saisissant avec le texte précédent, pose la question de l’ utilité des Écritures: Qu’avons-nous besoin des Écritures? Ne sont-elles là que pour être reconnues après-coup, à partir d’une vérité que nous portons déjà en nous et qui dans son accomplissement préalable, dans l’ accomplissement depuis toujours de la vie en nous, se passerait aisément d’ elles ? De par l’ Oubli qui définit son essence phénoménologique propre, la vie est ambiguë. La vie est ce qui se sait sans se savoir. Qu’elle le sache tout à coup n’est ni accessoire ni surajouté. Le savoir par lequel un jour la vie sait ce que depuis toujours elle savait sans le savoir n’est pas d’ un autre ordre que celui de la vie elle-même. […] Dans la mesure où la vie est susceptible de ce bouleversement, elle est Devenir. […] Que la vie soit Devenir veut dire: la possibilité demeure ouverte en elle pour qu’ en elle l’ auto-affection qui frappe chaque vivant du sceau de son Ipséité indélébile – pour que cette auto-affection s’éprouve comme celle de la vie absolue […], qu’ une telle émotion en tant que la Révélation de sa propre essence advienne à celui qui lit les Écritures et pour autant que celles-ci ne lui disent rien d’ autre que sa condition de Fils, il n’y a là rien d’étonnant du moment que cette condition de Fils est précisément la sienne et qu’ ainsi la condition de la Foi est toujours posée.23 19 20 21 22 23

Ibid. Ibid., p. 348. Ibid. Michel Henry, « Parole et religion: la Parole de Dieu» (1992) in Phénoménologie de la vie, tome iv. Paris 2004, p. 202. Ibid., p. 201-202.

images de l’ absolu

425

Le savoir auquel le vivant accède dans le cadre d’ un bouleversement ne semble pas ici être seulement le savoir de la vie en tant que tel, c’ est-à-dire celui de l’affectivité du Soi vivant comme chair, mais, plus particulièrement, celui qui concerne pour ainsi dire la provenance de cette chair et son origine. Il s’ agit précisément du savoir où «l’auto-affection s’ éprouve comme celle de la vie absolue». Ce savoir n’est autre que celui qui accompagne la « seconde naissance».24 Or, celle-ci découvre une condition qui est déjà donnée, que le vivant n’a en fait jamais quittée, et c’est pourquoi il peut justement la re-découvrir. Ce savoir est, en outre, de l’ordre d’un savoir non su avant la « seconde naissance » et passe au rang d’un savoir qui se sait lorsque celle-ci a lieu. Or, comme ce bouleversement est interne au savoir de la vie, il peut sans doute être favorisé par des médiations culturelles – l’art, la philosophie, la religion –, mais ces dernières ne sont ni une condition nécessaire ni une condition suffisante, et son déclenchement reste pour l’essentiel de l’ ordre d’ une téléologie immanente insondable dans le détail de son déploiement.25 De façon significative, on retrouve dans l’abord henryen des Écritures le même critère de vérité que celui qui est applicable à la phénoménologie matérielle : c’ est parce que la condition est déjà donnée et remplie (la condition de Fils ainsi que celle d’ une vie intentionnelle fondée en l’auto-affection immanente de la vie, c’ est-à-dire la révélation pathétique de celle-ci) que le texte peut induire un effet décisif de reconnaissance qui repose sur la certitude. Il n’en reste pas moins le problème de savoir pourquoi la phénoménologie matérielle a, en tant que discours, une utilité au moins potentielle qui consiste à « rendre la parole à la Vie» et pourquoi elle peut avoir la même utilité aux côtés des Écritures dans le cadre de la «seconde naissance ».26 D’ un côté en effet, le renversement qu’opère la phénoménologie matérielle semble écarter l’ aporie dès lors que «nous savons que ce n’est jamais dans un voir que nous parviendrons à la vie, mais seulement là où elle parvient en soi – là où, depuis toujours, nous sommes déjà parvenus en nous-mêmes: dans la Vie absolue »27 et que, par conséquent, «jamais plus nous n’en appellerons au voir, à une connaissance quelconque de notre condition de vivants».28 De l’ autre, « cette vie invisible qui habite notre voir et le rend possible, nous cherchons à la voir pourtant dans 24 25 26

27 28

Cf. Michel Henry, C’ est moi la vérité. Paris 1996, p. 192-215. Cf. notamment : Barbarie ou culture, op. cit., p. 216-230 et p. 353-355. On peut défendre l’ idée selon laquelle ces deux utilités n’en font qu’une et que retrouver la parole de la vie équivaut à naître une seconde fois. Mais c’est là un point problématique, puisqu’ il ne semble pas forcé que la re-découverte de l’affectivité équivaille du même coup à la re-découverte de la condition filiale dans la vie absolue. Michel Henry, Incarnation, op. cit., p. 131. Ibid.

426

seyler

une pensée»29, mais alors la question se pose de manière plus pressante encore de savoir pourquoi nous cherchons à la voir, pourquoi il nous importe tellement d’en donner une image, et notamment celle que s’ efforce de donner la phénoménologie matérielle.

3

L’unité du voir et de la vie, ou: De la nécessité d’ une pensée vivante

Les considérations qui précèdent suggèrent l’idée que la pensée et le voir ne sont peut-être pas aussi accessoires qu’il n’y paraît à la suite du renversement phénoménologique. Au contraire, le développement de la phénoménologie matérielle amène à considérer l’intentionnalité du voir et la forme de la représentation comme des éléments indispensables pour toute praxis humaine et, plus particulièrement, pour l’ensemble des pratiques éthico-religieuses allant du bouleversement intérieur que représente la « seconde naissance » jusqu’ à sa mise en œuvre dans l’agir et la culture. Un parallèle avec la théorie henryenne de l’ action est tout d’ abord éclairant. En effet, si l’action est essentiellement immanente et que la « vie sait à tout instant ce qu’il faut faire et ce qui lui convient»30 comment l’ hésitation par exemple est-elle possible? La seule réponse envisageable est, semble-t-il, que le savoir de la vie n’est pas forcément le nôtre, celui de ce vivant particulier, de cet homme dans telle et telle situation. Pour qu’ il le devienne, pour que je sache ce que je dois faire et comment, des actes intentionnels sont nécessaires. L’exemple du coureur donné par Michel Henry31 va semble-t-il bien au-delà de la démonstration de l’immanence de l’ action réelle: elle montre que les composantes intentionnelles sont partie intégrante de la réalité de l’ action humaine et, par conséquent, de la réalité de cette action comme humaine. Car, si l’épreuve de soi que vit le coureur est bien radicalement à l’ écart de tout regard qui entendrait la saisir de l’extérieur, il n’en reste pas moins que l’ acte même de courir est indissociable de visées intentionnelles (la perception du couloir que l’athlète emprunte, l’observation des autres coureurs, les considérations tactiques, etc.). Autrement dit, si l’action est bien nécessairement l’ unité de ses composantes intentionnelles et affectives, il n’est pas possible de réduire sa réalité à la seule affectivité et il faut bien admettre que c’ est l’ unité en question qui constitue cette réalité.

29 30 31

Ibid. Michel Henry, La barbarie. Paris 2004 (1ère édition : 1987), p. 168. Michel Henry, Marx, tome 1. Paris 1976, p. 346-348.

images de l’ absolu

427

De même, pour que la «seconde naissance» soit bien la nôtre, pour que nous soyons à même de redécouvrir le pathos comme mode originaire de phénoménalisation, un changement dans l’ordre de la représentation est tout aussi nécessaire: que ce changement prenne la forme d’ une compréhension à la fois profonde et consciente, d’une Einsicht qui thématise explicitement la condition filiale du vivant dans la vie absolue, ou qu’elle se borne à un changement du rapport au monde, on ne peut concevoir qu’ un tel « bouleversement émotionnel» demeure cantonné au niveau d’une affectivité pure sans qu’ il ne se manifeste dans l’ordre de l’intentionnalité. Car dans ce dernier cas, le changement, et le bouleversement émotionnel avec lui, seraient tout simplement inexistants.32 Enfin, cette unité de l’affectivité et de la représentation apparaît à l’ examen de la critique henryenne de la psychanalyse. Comme on le sait, cette critique vise la psychanalyse dans sa dimension herméneutique.33 La pratique thérapeutique de la cure serait vouée à l’échec précisément dans la mesure où elle méconnaitrait le primat de l’affectif sur la représentation, s’ enlisant ainsi dans un jeu de renvoi à l’infini à l’intérieur du système que forme l’ idéalité du langage. Mais cette critique est elle-même susceptible d’ une critique car, si Michel Henry voit dans le transfert analytique la figure même d’ un rapport purement affectif à l’autre où analyste et analysant sont tous deux immergés dans un jeu de forces en deçà de l’activité représentationnelle,34 il faut aussitôt souligner que le transfert ne peut avoir lieu que dans la mesure où il est préparé et médiatisé par la parole, c’est-à-dire par l’activité représentatrice et l’ articulation de celle-ci. Ici encore, la réalité du rapport affectif semble être éminemment tributaire du langage et de la représentation, au point que l’ on ne « voit » plus en quoi pourrait consister un tel rapport s’il ne trouvait pas à se manifester dans l’ intentionnalité. En admettant l’idée d’une affectivité radicalement inaccessible au voir intentionnel où la vie s’apparaît néanmoins à elle-même, il faudra toujours

32

33 34

On rétorquera que cette inexistence n’en est une que du point de vue du voir intentionnel, mais pas du point de vue de l’ apparaître immanent de l’affectivité qui, par son essence même, échappe à l’ intentionnalité. Mais que serait un tel changement purement affectif et quelle réalité pourrait-on lui reconnaître dès lors qu’il ne se manifesterait aucunement dans l’ ordre de l’ intentionnalité? Dès lors que l’ affectivité est le fondement vivant de l’ intentionnalité, peut-on concevoir un changement affectif qui ne se traduise pas par un changement dans l’ intentionnalité et reste ainsi sans effet dans l’existence humaine? Tel est précisément le problème soulevé ici. Cf. notamment : Michel Henry, Généalogie de la psychanalyse. Le commencement perdu. Paris 1985, p. 385. Michel Henry, Phénoménologie de la vie, tome ii. Paris, 2003, p. 180-182.

428

seyler

concéder que – sans représentations d’aucune sorte – un tel devenir affectif restera sans effets pour nous. Ainsi, s’il faut dire que toute relation à l’ autre est de part en part affective, c’est en précisant qu’ une telle relation ne saurait se déployer exclusivement dans un co-pathos purement immanent. Elle exige en même temps sa traduction ou, si l’on préfère, sa forme intentionnelle. Mais, comme le montrent les exemples qui précèdent, ce résultat semble bien s’étendre à l’ensemble du domaine de la praxis. Dans celui-ci, l’ affectivité doit nécessairement s’accompagner de productions intentionnelles, sans quoi c’ est «comme si» elle n’était pas. D’où aussi la difficulté d’ un développement éthique de la phénoménologie matérielle, c’ est-à-dire d’ une éthique de l’ affectivité. Car celle-ci requiert nécessairement, et en dépit du fait qu’ elle situe le primat de l’apparaître dans l’apparaître pathétique, la prise en compte de l’ intentionnalité. C’est ainsi que s’éclaire la question de l’utilité du texte et de la parole du monde: cette utilité réside précisément dans le fait de donner une image de l’ absolu dans l’ordre de la pensée. Mais si cette utilité est bien avérée, c’ est parce qu’elle correspond à un besoin vivant de l’ homme, à savoir celui que soit donnée une forme intentionnelle à ce qui autrement demeurerait dans la nuit de l’affectivité: En sa temporalité immanente la Vie absolue a beau joindre à soi celui qui, de venir après en elle, n’en est pas séparé pour autant – pas plus qu’ il n’est séparé de lui-même […] – le fils prodigue ne l’ en a pas moins oubliée. La puissance, plus intérieure à l’homme que lui-même, peut continuer d’œuvrer en lui sans qu’il le sache: n’est-elle pas cependant pour lui comme si elle n’était pas? […] L’immanence de la Vie absolue dans la vie propre et singulière de l’ego, c’est ce qui rend théoriquement possible le salut de celle-ci. Mais, encore une fois, cette possibilité demeure théorique, n’est qu’une simple possibilité.35 Il n’y a en effet d’oubli de la vie que si l’on se place du point de vue de l’ intentionnalité: c’est seulement pour la vue que la vie est invisible et n’apparaît pas. Mais si, en et pour l’homme, un tel oubli peut être effectif et réel, c’ est à condition de concéder une importance décisive et essentielle à l’ intentionnalité.36 C’est pourquoi à l’énoncé selon lequel la « seconde naissance n’advient 35 36

Michel Henry, C’ est moi la vérité, op. cit., p. 207-208. A l’ inverse, on notera que lorsque les strates supérieures de la conscience intentionnelle et objectivantes font défaut, comme c’ est le cas dans la vie animale, la négation de la vie dans la barbarie est tout simplement impossible.

images de l’ absolu

429

qu’à la faveur d’une mutation s’accomplissant à l’ intérieur de la vie ellemême»37 et qu’elle «ne peut avoir son principe que […] dans la Vie absolue et dans son mouvement»38, déplaçant ainsi l’éthique de l’ ordre de la parole à celui de l’agir, il convient d’ajouter qu’une telle mutation serait « comme si elle n’était pas», à défaut d’être relayée par un changement décisif dans l’ ordre de la représentation. Pour être effective, il faut que la « seconde naissance » apparaisse, d’une manière ou d’une autre, dans l’ existence. Et c’ est bien cet apparaître qui la fait advenir pour nous. D’une manière générale, c’est donc bien l’unité du voir et de la vie qui est soulignée par la phénoménologie matérielle. A côté de la thèse dualiste qui entend séparer radicalement deux modes d’apparaître, la thèse du fondement de l’intentionnalité dans l’affectivité implique que la vie est, en ce vivant qu’ est l’ homme, aussi et surtout vie de l’intentionnalité. Et c’ est pourquoi aussi la reconnaissance éthico-religieuse de la vie comme affectivité trouve sa traduction dans l’ordre de l’intentionnalité. En tant qu’ image de l’ absolu comme vie, la phénoménologie matérielle vise ainsi à être elle-même traduction de l’ absolu dans l’ordre du discours philosophique.

4

Fichte et la Wissenschaftslehre de 1804 : La vie en deçà du savoir

Quant à la doctrine fichtéenne de la vérité et de l’ apparaître (Wahrheits- und Erscheinungslehre) telle qu’elle est présentée dans le deuxième cycle de conférences de 1804, elle articule le savoir, entendu à la fois comme conscience et comme concept (Begriff ), à la vie absolue comme l’ en deçà de tout savoir; mais, à la différence de la phénoménologie matérielle, elle ne reconnaît pas à cette vie un apparaître autre que celui de la conscience. Bien plutôt, la conscience, à commencer par la conscience de soi, est en même temps son apparaître, son phénomène et donc, dans les termes de Fichte, son image. Comme l’énonce la 11ème Conférence, le Moi est « la première apparition (Erscheinung) et fondement (Grund) de toutes les autres»39. L’erreur consiste alors à confondre l’image et ce dont elle est l’image (Abgebildetes), autrement dit à prendre l’apparition pour l’être – c’est-à-dire l’ être comme vie40 qui en est l’ origine et le fondement ultime, et cette confusion sanctionne alors le règne 37 38 39 40

Ibid., p. 208. Ibid. ga ii 8, p. 172-173. Cf. sur ce point le résultat fondamental de la doctrine de la vérité et qui la résume toute entière au début de la 16ème Conférence.

430

seyler

de l’apparence (Schein) à la racine des erreurs tant idéalistes que réalistes. Dès lors, la philosophie de Fichte n’est plus à cette date une philosophie du Moi, mais bien une philosophie de l’absolu comme vie dans laquelle le Moi s’ origine.41 L’exposé de 1804 prolonge ainsi une avancée déjà présente dans la wl de 1801/02. Cette dernière thématisait en effet le savoir absolu comme voir de sa propre origine: le savoir absolu est en même temps vue de son surgissement mais, par là, il est aussi vue de sa limite, c’est-à-dire vue de ce qui n’ est pas lui et n’est pas de l’ordre du savoir. L’origine est prise ici comme impliquant la limite entre l’être de ce qui surgit et sa négation.42 D’où aussi la formule paradoxale qui en 1804 rend compte du projet de la doctrine de la science en tant qu’ elle à l’absolu pour « objet»: il s’agit de concevoir ce qui est absolument inconcevable, en tant qu’inconcevable (das Begreifen des durchaus Unbegreiflichen, als Unbegreiflichen).43 On le voit, cette formule manifeste explicitement le statut en apparence contradictoire d’un discours tenu sur l’absolu comme ce qui, pourtant, doit échapper à tout discours. Or, comment lever cette contradiction ? La réponse est donnée par la progression complexe que Fichte entame à partir de l’ idée de l’absolu comme unité (Einheit), idée qui s’impose à partir de celle de vérité dont la recherche définit la philosophie elle-même : Que doit faire la philosophie […]? Sans aucun doute: exposer la vérité. Mais qu’est-ce que la vérité et que cherchons-nous proprement lorsque nous la cherchons? Rappelons-nous seulement de ce que nous n’admettons pas comme vérité: lorsque quelque chose peut être ainsi, ou encore ainsi; donc, la multiplicité et la variabilité de la façon de voir (Ansicht). […] L’essence de la philosophie consisterait en ceci : reconduire tout multiple (qui s’impose pourtant bien à nous dans la façon habituelle de voir la vie) à l’unité absolue. […] Là où la moindre possibilité d’ une distinction intervient, explicitement ou tacitement, la tâche n’ est pas 41 42

43

ga ii 8, p. 200-205. Cf. cependant : Ch. Asmuth, Das Begreifen des Unbegreiflichen. Philosophie und Religion bei J.G. Fichte 1800-1806. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1999, p. 305-306. wl-1801/02, § 26-29 in ga ii 6. Sur la différence entre cet exposé et celui de 1804, déjà E. Hirsch, Fichtes Religionsphilosophie im Rahmen der philosophischen Gesamtentwicklung Fichtes. Göttingen 1914, p. 89-90 souligne que la wl de 1801/02 maintient du point de vue de la réalité deux principes, celui de la liberté absolue du Moi et celui de l’absoluité de l’ être, tandis qu’ en 1804 l’ accomplissement de la doctrine de la vérité requiert pour Fichte le dépassement d’ un tel dualisme, dans la mesure où la vérité signifie ici l’unité ultime de la subjectivité et de l’ objectivité, de l’ être et de la liberté. ga ii 8, p. 54-55.

images de l’ absolu

431

accomplie. Celui qui peut établir comme possible une quelconque distinction, à l’intérieur d’un système philosophique ou à même ce qu’ il pose comme suprême, a réfuté ce système. Unité absolue, est expliqué justement par ce qui précède, son contraire, le vrai, l’ immuable en soi, purement clos sur lui-même. Reconduire : justement dans la compréhension (Einsicht) continue du philosophe lui-même, à savoir: qu’ il conçoive réciproquement le multiple à travers l’Un et l’Un à travers le multiple, c’ est-àdire que l’unité = A lui apparaisse avec évidence (einleuchte) en tant que principe de tels multiples; et, à l’inverse, que les multiples ne puissent être conçus pour ce qui est du fondement de leur être que comme ce qui possède A pour principe.44 L’ erreur d’un système philosophique consiste donc, non à se tromper radicalement, mais à prendre pour absolu ce qui n’est que relatif, c’ est-à-dire ce qui n’est que le membre d’une disjonction (Disjunktion) et dont la genèse s’ explique par une synthèse supérieure, une unité qui en fournit le fondement. Or, cette unité recherchée au titre de la vérité ne peut se trouver ni dans l’ en soi de la chose – celui-ci n’est que de l’être «mort », il est privé du caractère vivant du rapport à soi – ni dans la seule conscience, puisque sans l’ être elle s’ épuise dans le vide du renvoi de la réflexion à elle-même.45 L’ unité doit donc se trouver en deçà de la disjonction fondamentale entre être (Sein) et pensée (Denken)46, et c’est pourquoi aussi bien le réalisme que l’ idéalisme est unilatéral (einseitig). Mais la compréhension ou Einsicht de ce principe est à expliquer « génétiquement», c’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit de trouver la loi de sa formation dans le savoir. Or, il apparaît que pareil principe d’unité doit rester imperméable au concept car l’œuvre du concept est faite de séparation.47 L’ unité véritable se situe ainsi en deçà du concept et comme ce que le concept ne peut précisément pas saisir. Le concept doit donc en quelque sorte être annulé ou « anéanti » (ver-

44 45 46

47

ga ii 8, p. 8-9. [Traduction: Groupe d’ Etudes Fichtéennes de Langue Française (geflf), non publié]. Autrement dit, l’ être est relatif à la conscience et la conscience pose en se le représentant quelque chose comme étant, elle est donc relative à l’être. Cf. notamment : ga ii 8, p. 10-15. L’ autre disjonction fondamentale identifiée par Fichte est celle du sensible et du suprasensible, et elle est organiquement reliée à la première, c’ est-à-dire que c’ est « d’ un seul coup » que pensée et être se disjoignent respectivement en sensible et suprasensible. Il est construction d’ une détermination par un autre et ne peut réaliser une unité qu’ après-coup, à partir d’ éléments donnés séparément et préalablement, il est donc incapable de saisir le « tout d’ un coup » qui caractérise l’ unité du principe et de la disjonction.

432

seyler

nichtet), mais pour qu’il puisse l’être, il doit tout d’ abord être posé (gesetzt). L’ évidence de l’unité suprême n’est donc pas saisie par nous, c’ est elle qui nous saisit (ergreift uns) dans une intuition qui n’est possible que par le jaillissement de la lumière (Licht) en nous. La 4ème Conférence formule la loi fondamentale, c’est-à-dire la genèse, de cette intuition et de la lumière: « Si [la lumière pure] doit (Soll) effectivement advenir, alors il faut que le concept soit posé et anéanti, et qu’un être, en soi inconcevable, soit posé. […] Ceci […] exprime la loi fondamentale de tout savoir.»48 D’un côté, le concept – comme ce qui est à poser et à anéantir – est bien ce qui conditionne la lumière dans son apparaître pour nous. De l’autre cependant, c’est la lumière qui conditionne le concept en tant qu’elle constitue la vie intérieure de la pensée.49 Le concept dans sa forme originaire (Urbegriff ) est en effet caractérisé par l’ unité organique de l’image et de ce qui est imagé (Abgebildetes) – il ne peut y avoir d’image sans quelque chose qui soit imagé; de même ce qui est imagé l’ est nécessairement à travers une image, l’unité est donc organique et elle est donnée «tout d’un coup» –, ce qui revient à dire que le concept est caractérisé essentiellement par la forme de l’«À-travers» (Durch, Durcheinander),50 mais il ne peut rendre compte par lui-même de sa vie propre, c’ est-à-dire de la nécessité de son activité : «cet À-travers n’a, […] malgré toute sa disposition à la vie, en lui-même que la mort.»51 Le concept et, avec lui, la pensée perdent ainsi leur apparence d’ autonomie en renvoyant à une vie originaire en deçà du concept, c’ est-à-dire inconcevable. Toutefois, ce résultat s’obtient par la pensée elle-même car c’ est l’ abord génétique du concept comme Durcheinander qui en montre l’ insuffisance et l’ inadéquation. Le concept n’est que la forme que prend la vie dans cette apparition primordiale (Urerscheinung) qu’est la vie de la conscience. Le concept doit donc bien être posé, et la pensée doit avoir lieu, si l’ intuition de la vie comme fondement et comme lumière ne doit pas se perdre dans une Schwärmerei ou dans un mysticisme qui oublie que, pour être anéanti, le concept doit d’abord être posé.52 Plus encore, la vie divine, si elle est bel et bien inconcevable 48 49

50 51 52

ga ii 8, p. 60-61. ga ii 8, p. 98-99. Notons que la lumière s’ avère être fondement non seulement de la pensée, mais aussi de l’ autre membre de la disjonction fondamentale, l’être, et elle est par là établie comme point d’ unité (Einheitspunkt) de cette disjonction. Cf. aussi: ga ii 8, p. 100117. Cf. notamment : ga ii 8, p. 108 et p. 128-131. ga ii 8, p. 160-161. Sur la question de la mystique et du mysticisme chez Fichte cf. notamment: W. Janke, « Fichtes Abwehr des Mystizismus » in W. Janke, Entgegensetzungen, Fichte Studien Supplementa 4. New York/Amsterdam 1994, p. 83-95.

images de l’ absolu

433

en son immanence même – dans ce que Fichte appelle sa forme existentiale intérieure (innere Existentialform) dont le contenu est l’ expression immanente (immanente Äusserung)53 de la vie divine –, est pourtant bien en même temps vie de l’intentionnalité, car elle est bien le tout de la réalité et englobe dès lors l’ unité et la disjonction entre être et pensée qui apparaît dans la conscience. Non que la vie divine se dépense ou se perde dans cette vie intentionnelle, puisqu’elle demeure vivante en elle-même indépendamment de sa forme existentiale extérieure (äussere Existentialform), elle la fonde cependant et s’ y reflète, ce qui consacre justement le statut d’image de l’ absolu qu’ il faut donner à la conscience. Le moment où, dans la wl, la pensée conçoit son propre fondement transcendantal comme vie inconcevable et absolue, est alors le moment où l’ absolu se reflète en vérité dans et pour la conscience. Mais cela n’ est possible que parce que, dans cette construction de la pensée, l’absolu s’ est construit lui-même. C’est ce que Fichte met en évidence par le dépassement des positions idéalistes et réalistes, dépassement qui lui permet de conclure, au terme du cheminement que suit la Wahrheits- und Vernunftlehre, sur la thèse fondamentale de l’ être absolu comme vie énoncée au début de la 16ème Conférence.

5

De l’auto-construction de l’absolu à la destination de l’ homme

Comment une pensée de l’absolu est-elle possible si l’ absolu se découvre précisément à la pensée comme ce qui lui échappe ? L’étude de la pensée par la pensée a montré que celle-ci était dépendante de la vie. Cette dernière demeure cependant insaisissable en son être immanent et ce résultat est, du point de vue de son contenu, indépassable. Ce qui peut, en revanche, être investigué plus en avant c’est sa forme : comment cette Einsicht est-elle parvenue jusqu’à nous, comment s’est-elle construite? Deux réponses concurrentes apparaissent ici, selon que l’on insiste sur la forme de l’ Einsicht, c’ est-à-dire sur la pensée, et c’est ce que fait l’idéalisme, ou que l’ on s’ en tient à son contenu, c’est-à-dire à l’en soi de la vie qui nous saisit dans l’ acte même de sa reconnaissance par la pensée, et c’est là ce que soutient le réalisme. Mais ces deux positions restent unilatérales: l’idéalisme donne finalement la priorité à l’ acte de réfléchir l’absolu, le conditionnant ainsi par son énonciation, tandis que cette énonciation elle-même est contredite par ce qu’ elle énonce (une vie indépendante de la pensée); le réalisme, à l’inverse, ne rend pas compte du fait que l’en soi de la vie est bel et bien réfléchi. 53

ga ii 8, p. 118-123.

434

seyler

Le dépassement de cette aporie n’est tout d’abord possible qu’ en progressant vers un réalisme supérieur (höherer Realismus)54 qui se donne les moyens de réfléchir sa propre position. L’en soi est bien la négation de toute construction et de ce qui est pour nous. Comment alors cette Einsicht qui définit le réalisme est-elle possible? Elle ne l’est précisément qu’ en tant que produite par l’absolu lui-même, c’est-à-dire en tant qu’auto-construction (Selbstconstruction) de l’absolu qui nous saisit et apparaît ainsi à la conscience. On a ici plus qu’une analogie avec le statut philosophique de la phénoménologie matérielle en tant qu’image de l’absolu comme vie. Celle-ci, nous l’ avons vu, n’est elle aussi possible que dans la mesure où la vie comme affectivité immanente peut se frayer un passage vers l’ordre du discours dans lequel elle trouve sa traduction. Et si cette traduction est l’œuvre d’ un sujet, c’ est seulement à la condition qu’il s’agisse d’un sujet vivant à travers lequel c’ est en fait la vie ellemême qui s’exprime dans la parole du monde. Mais que dit alors cette parole? Pas autre chose semble-t-il que rien ne puisse être dit de la vie absolue, mais en même temps que tout dire et tout faire, toute vue et tout concept, sont fondés en elle. Le réalisme supérieur se révèle finalement être «ein in seiner Wurzel verborgen gebliebener Idealismus».55 A sa racine, il est encore un idéalisme se méconnaissant lui-même. Dès lors que l’ en soi n’est intelligible que comme négation du pour nous, il insère l’ absolu dans une opposition, c’est-à-dire dans une relation et, projetant l’ unité de cette relation dans l’absolu, il ne se repose que sur le témoignage immédiat de la conscience dont la forme fondamentale est précisément cette relation. L’en soi doit donc, selon la conclusion de la 14ème Conférence, lui-même être abandonné au titre de l’absolu, tout comme l’ensemble de la forme existentiale extérieure.56 Si donc l’idéalisme ne doit pas avoir le dernier mot, si Dieu n’est pas seulement en sa forme existentiale extérieure une pensée nécessaire, mais bien le fondement absolu de l’être et de la vérité, alors le Moi ne doit être rien d’ autre que l’image dans laquelle l’être divin apparaît. Pourtant, prendre au sérieux la forme existentiale intérieure, c’est-à-dire l’activité divine elle-même, suppose l’application d’un procédé d’abstraction absolue qui doit retrancher de la réflexion sur l’absolu tout ce qui est à mettre sur le compte de la conscience finie et de ses divisions,57 puisque celle-ci est incapable de se situer dans une

54

55 56 57

La synthèse du réalisme et de l’ idéalisme ne peut en effet partir de ce dernier dès lors qu’il détruit tout passage possible vers une position autre que la sienne. C’est ce que Fichte appelle la Hartnäckigkeit de l’ idéalisme. Cf. notamment: ga ii 8, p. 180-183. ga ii 8, 224-225. ga ii 8, p. 225-226. ga ii 8, p. 228-231.

images de l’ absolu

435

unité qui la détruirait en tant que conscience. Que reste-t-il alors au terme de l’ abstraction absolue? Ni le néant pur, ni non plus l’ être auquel s’ est ajoutée la conscience, mais, comme l’énonce la 16ème Conférence dans ce résultat qui résume à lui tout seul la doctrine de la vérité, l’ être pur comme vie : « Das Sein ist durchaus ein in sich geschlossenes Singulum unmittelbaren lebendigen Seins, das nie aus sich heraus kann».58 L’être et la vie s’ identifient ainsi l’ un à l’ autre dans ce qui est esse in mero actu,59 mais de cet absolu qui est pure activité la pensée discursive ne peut plus rien dire. Dieu est donc à la fois ce qui est le plus clair et le plus lumineux, mais aussi ce qui est le plus caché, «das Allerklarste und zugleich das Allerverborgenste»,60 et la vérité n’est ni adéquation ni certitude de soi, mais l’ identité de la révélation et de ce qui en même temps la masque. Toutefois, cette « obscurité» n’est pas de l’ordre d’une distance. Pour Fichte aussi, l’ absolu comme vie divine est ce qu’il y a de plus intime en nous: «Nous vivons cependant immédiatement dans l’acte vivant (Lebensakte) lui-même; nous sommes dès lors l’ être un et indivis (das Eine ungetheilte Sein) lui-même»,61 mais ce Wir in sich échappe à toute tentative d’objectivation. Il ne peut être « saisi » que négativement par l’ anéantissement du concept et de l’ensemble des médiations du Durch ; positivement, il est de l’ordre de la vie immanente et de l’ expression de celle-ci, bien que cette expression demeure en tant que telle inaccessible à la conscience. Dès lors, le champ d’investigation de la philosophie est délimité. L’établissement de la vie comme transcendantal opère de manière critique comme rappel de la genèse de la conscience à partir de ce dont elle est l’ image. Le Moi est bien le lieu de la manifestation de l’absolu, le «Da» du Sein, mais il n’est pas pour autant l’absolu lui-même62 et il convient de ne pas l’ oublier. En dehors de cette découverte, à vrai dire capitale, de l’absolu comme vie, la philosophie est investigation de sa manifestation phénoménale et, comme le savoir est pour Fichte le lieu de cette manifestation, elle est «tout d’un coup » phénoménologie et philosophie de l’existence.63

58 59 60 61

62 63

ga ii 8, p. 240-241. ga ii 8, p. 228-231. ga ii 8, p. 228-229. Ibid. Ou encore ga ii 8, p. 232-233: « In der erzeugten Einsicht [werden] wir selber das Sein», ce qui entraine cependant la question de savoir si la compréhension (Einsicht) est requise pour que cette coïncidence avec l’ être ait lieu ou si, au contraire, elle est bien toujours donnée bien que nous n’ en ayons pas conscience. ga ii 8, p. 200. Amorçant ce chemin, les dernières conférences de 1804 établiront notamment le double hiatus qui caractérise aussi bien la question de savoir comment l’être se traduit en apparaître et pourquoi il le fait. Autrement dit, si nous savons avec évidence que (Dass) la

436

seyler

Mais, comme l’établit notamment la 25ème Conférence, la Wissenschaftslehre est aussi et surtout une Weisheitslehre, une doctrine de la sagesse. Celle-ci veut nous enseigner, dans cette réflexion portée aux limites de la réflexion, que la liberté de cette même réflexion n’est pas une fin en elle-même, mais qu’ elle est là pour qu’advienne à la conscience le savoir de son fondement absolu dans la vie. Dans cette téléologie secrète, le Soll fichtéen ne vise plus alors l’ activité infinie du Moi en vue de son autodétermination, mais la reconnaissance de ce Moi, et par lui-même, comme image de la vie divine.64 Et cette reconnaissance est en même temps sa destination d’homme. En plaçant la reconnaissance de la vie absolue au cœur de leur démarche, la phénoménologie matérielle et la phénoménologie fichtéenne posent tout d’abord la question des conditions de possibilité d’ un savoir et d’ un dire de cette reconnaissance. Dans les deux cas, ces conditions de possibilités convergent vers une seule, celle de la coïncidence au moins ponctuelle du sujet et de l’objet du savoir, c’est-à-dire du sujet philosophant avec l’ absolu lui-même. Mais, puisque le savoir qui s’énonce ainsi dans le discours philosophique vise et concerne un en deçà de la conscience, il renvoie finalement à un indicible. La phénoménologie de la vie absolue trouve, au moment même où elle trouve la vie dans l’image qu’elle en forme, la limite qu’ elle ne pourra jamais franchir en tant que philosophie, c’est-à-dire en tant que pensée. C’est pourquoi la «matérialité» de la phénoménologie matérielle demeure en son détail inaccessible au discours qui semble finalement devoir se limiter à un seul énoncé, celui du renversement de la phénoménologie et de son ancrage dans la vie absolue. A n’en point douter, ce renversement peut et doit être décliné en rappelant la genèse transcendantale des différents champs de l’existence humaine. Mais il semble ne pas pouvoir aller au-delà de ce rappel capital à la vie, puisque les lois de la vie sont, pour ce vivant qu’ est l’ homme, indissociables des phénomènes qui se donnent à voir dans la lumière de l’intentionnalité. La phénoménologie de Fichte, quant à elle, opère d’ emblée à partir d’ une conscience comprise comme Da du Sein, c’est-à-dire in fine sur la base d’ une unité du voir et du vivre. Ce qui a pu être décrié comme le « formalisme » de la wl révèle ici toute sa puissance, en ce qu’il permet d’ éviter les dualismes irréductibles et les positions unilatérales. Pour la phénoménologie fichtéenne, le voir intentionnel reste donc fermement ancré dans la vie comme absolu, et

64

lumière de la conscience jaillit, il nous restera éternellement incompréhensible de savoir pourquoi et comment (Wie) elle le fait. Cf. notamment : ga ii 8, p. 378-379, ainsi que R. Lauth «Die Bedeutung der Fichteschen Philosophie für die Gegenwart » in Philosophisches Jahrbuch 70 (1962-1963), p. 256-257.

images de l’ absolu

437

la reconnaissance de cette dernière est pour ainsi dire l’ aboutissement nécessaire de la wl, non le fruit d’une téléologie immaitrisable. Par ailleurs, s’ il y a bien, chez Fichte, une Affektenlehre, celle-ci ne se trouve pas au centre de la wl de 1804, mais bien au cœur de l’Anweisung de 1806. Tout comme la Grundlage avant lui, l’exposé de 1804 se caractérise donc bien par un primat du Wissen sur le Glauben, et il évite ainsi le risque d’un discours sur l’ absolu qui serait essentiellement Schwärmerei. Cette pure logique de l’effectuation65 est cependant à compléter par une théorie de l’affectivité, celle de l’Anweisung bien sûr, mais aussi celle de Michel Henry qui précise bien que l’ affectivité est irréductiblement Stimmung, tonalité affective, c’est-à-dire évaluation effectuée à partir de la vie elle-même. En conclusion des analyses menées ci-dessus, il ne s’ agit donc ni d’ identifier les deux phénoménologies l’une à l’autre ni, encore moins, d’ en réaliser une « synthèse» qui en gommerait les spécificités, mais bien de justifier les différences des deux approches, en même temps que la complémentarité dont elles témoignent malgré tout. Du côté fichtéen, l’unité du voir et du vivre, permettant un accès discursif – et donc médiat – au transcendantal comme vie par cette praxis qu’est la wl; du côté henryen, l’idée tout à fait décisive d’ une phénoménalisation affective, idée que Michel Henry réfère d’ ailleurs explicitement à sa réception de la Religionslehre fichtéenne. À la reconnaissance de la vie absolue dans l’ordre du discours en correspond cependant une autre, dans l’ordre pratique ou éthique de l’ agir cette fois. Que l’ homme ait la révélation de sa vie comme ancrée dans la vie absolue est, ici encore, capital. Il ne s’en suit pas pour autant que cette révélation lui permette de répondre immédiatement à la question de ce qu’ il doit faire, car dans le domaine de l’agir aussi, cette reconnaissance doit se prolonger et se traduire dans la forme de l’intentionnalité. La question de la forme existentielle que pourrait prendre l’ abandon à la vie absolue dans l’ordre de l’agir reste donc ouverte. Ce qui est sûr, c’ est que, pour Fichte aussi bien que pour Henry, un tel agir devra toujours être accompagné du sentiment de certitude. Il ne sera donc jamais mécanique, mais vivant précisément. 65

Selon l’ expression d’ I. Thomas-Fogiel, Fichte. Paris 2004.

teil 5 / part 5 Rezensionen

∵

Luis Fellipe Garcia, La philosophie comme Wissenschaftslehre. Le projet fichtéen d’une nouvelle pratique du savoir. Olms: Hildesheim 2018

The text entitled “La philosophie comme Wissenschaftslehre. Le projet fichtéen d’une nouvelle pratique du savoir”, written by Luis Felipe Garcia and published by olms, consists of 483 pages, including an introduction and a conclusion. On the basis of the latest studies concerning a possible Sprachlehre in the system of sciences projected by J.G. Fichte, the author pursues three main objectives: firstly, by defining the essence of language according to the transcendental method; then by presenting the actual use of language in the construction of the Wissenschaftslehre; finally, by demonstrating how philosophy, constructed as a Science of Knowledge or Doctrine of Science (Wissenschaftslehre), fills the void between history and philosophy. In the first part, entitled “Une nouvelle conception du savoir”, he tries to answer the question concerning the essence of language captured by the lens of transcendental philosophy. Actually, according to the philosopher originating from Rammenau, knowledge (Wissen) must be understood as a reflecting activity, aimed at providing a unitarian vision of the complexity of the pre-objective ground by which it is determined. Nevertheless, this conception runs into common language as an impediment: in language, the Geist is subsumed under the rules of the representation (Darstellung), becoming an object of the external senses. This action of reification is defined by Garcia as blocage de l’ esprit (p. 199). The letter (bloße Buchstabe) is considered the vestige of the sedimentation of the meaning (p. 321), that needs to be renewed in order to avoid fossilisation: in this sense, the negativity of the letter constitutes the systematic reason of polymorphism, that characterises the Science of Knowledge (p. 193). The essence of language has mainly a negative connotation; therefore, a de-construction of the letter becomes necessary towards its employment in philosophical discourse, in order to communicate, reveal and understand its ground. This means that, for Fichte, both inventing new words, as in the case in which he decides to use the term Wissenschaftslehre instead of φιλοσοφία to connote the newness of his speculative approach, and choosing new ones to name his proper object, i.e. in the event of the spirit, the Geist. Actually, this latter could not be completely expressed by Kantian pure reason (p. 79): this is a systematic object, a free maker of knowledge, guided in its activity by an obscure sense of truth, it does not identify a specific point of our consciousness but an entire place, the seat of our knowledge (p. 81), a composition of pieces related to each other in a systematic way. The Geist corresponds to the activity of the productive imagination (schaffende Einbildungskraft), an infinite background of which we are not aware. © Antonella Carbone, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_022

442

carbone

It is both the responsibility of the Wissenschaftslehre and the duty of the philosopher to explain and present this via the same activity of the imagination: it makes it possible to create new images (or words) necessary to both visualise and comprehend the whole process of signification and its unrepresentable background. This pre-logical dimension, through the incessant labour of depiction of the productive imagination, is named métaphysique des pulsions (p. 180), portrayed by a new dictionary in which terms such as drive (Trieb), strive (Streben), impulse (Anstoß) and feeling (Gefühl), are the temporary representation of the places in which the “I” is located, always divided between the finite and the infinite. This new dictionary, understood in the sense given by the Wissenschaftslehre, is a result of the productive imagination, which, fluctuating or hovering between the contraries, harmonises them in a word. This language of harmonisation does not limit itself to the particularity of each representation, yet it returns to the general movement in which the same representation is produced (p. 179). In the second part, entitled “La variation créatrice”, the author presents the linguistic creativity acting in the language of the “I” (langue du moi), the language of the being (langue de l’être) and the language of the image (langue de l’image), in which the Nova methodo, the second version of the 1804 Wissenschaftslehre and the 1811 Wissenschaftslehre have been presented respectively. These lectures are the expression of Fichte’s productive imagination, the way in which he portrays the awkward knowledge, reaffirming time to time the freedom of the Geist. The path of the Wissenschaftslehre is to provide a solution to speculative problems and the essential circle on which it is grounded. The different vocabularies are also patterned after the interlocutors with which Fichte dialogues. This is the case, for example, of the second version of the 1804 Wissenschaftslehre, in which Fichte, in a dialogue with Schelling and even Hegel, updates his idea to the language of the Being in order to allow the fundamental unity of subject and object as an absolute unity, the so called “être du savoir” (p. 249). Knowledge, so scientifically and methodically re-presented, deploys itself into reality through education, promoted by the lectures of the Wissenschaftslehrer (teacher of the Wissenschaftslehre) and educational institutions. Philosophy can fulfil its project only in a pedagogical dimension, which focuses on the final part of this work, entitled “La dimension pédagogique de la philosophie.” The teacher or scholar (Gelehrten) is not the one who knows and controls the learning process, but the one who conveys, and becomes aware of knowledge and who tries to permit it to be passed onto others (p. 324). Through his tutoring in the period corresponding to the education (Ausbildung), the stu-

garcia, la philosophie comme wissenschaftslehre

443

dent passively learns the activity of imagining, by first abandoning himself to a process of constituting to which his imagination, as a force of production (Einbildungskraft), will reproduce itself pursuing the same representation of philosophical knowledge within himself (p. 275). At the same time, this acting self-consciousness determines the passage into adulthood, when the student is finally able to imagine the world in which he or she wants to live. The theoretical keystone of this part consists of the concept of capability, the ability of the subject/student to switch from the Woher, an initial state of lack of freedom in which he depends on the knowledge of the world as it appears (Nachbild), to a Wohin, the world of ideal goals (Vorbild) he has prefigured through passional, metaphysical and social factors. In this case, the contraposition between spirit and letter reappears in Garcia’s discourse, but as a metaphor our spirit develops within itself (his drive), in an intersubjective dimension (the history) along the direction, an axis, as he says, established by society and represented here by the letter (p. 333). Nevertheless, the subject appears not to have come out completely unscathed from the danger posed by determinism: he has to be what he wants to be, but in the way proscribed by social dictates. The negativity represented here by the letter seems to be an unsurmountable obstacle, the signature of the implicit trouble of every overcoming of a crisis of identity, that could not be solved once and for all: its solutions are constitutively provisional, never safe from the possibility of being re-called into question. Garcia seems to be quite conscious of this risk, enough to admit the necessity of a continuous renewal of the letter under the supervision of the Wissenschaftslehrer. He is even endowed with an art of receptivity, a sort of double sensibility of both a historical and a philosophical nature: he is sensitive to the historical context he lives in and to the idea (Empfänglichkeit für die Idee) as the motivation of this work, so that he is able to adapt his teaching to the sociopolitical context. Whilst the fossilisation caused by the nature of the letter constitutes a battle which, even though it has already been fought, could make the difference once again, the lesson of the Wissenschaftslehre constitutes the only weapon at our disposal to have a chance to combat it. Garcia makes a significant contribution to the debate on the existence of a Sprachlehre within Fichte’s system. This, however, justifies the polymorphism of the doctrine, therefore the languages in which it is expressed according to the interlocutors with whom the philosopher from Rammenau periodically confronts, taking into more depth the negativity of the written letter, which remains the basis of the entire analysis. The arbitrariness that characterizes the language-instrument, despite being defined by the author as a two-faced

444

carbone

Janus, would only figure as conditioning the freedom of thought, even in the social dimension in which it is used: this latter would in fact give decisive guidance to the judgments in which freedom is always conditioned by the already thought, therefore by the already said through the letter (in fact the metaphor about the contrast of spirit and letter is justified only in this dimension). Would it be possible to find evidence within the Fichtean reflection on the positivity of language, compatible with the freedom of thought and the communication of it? Does it not enshrine in Fichte himself, already at the beginning of his intellectual reflection, a link between freedom of thought and freedom of expression, proven by the fact that a limitation of the latter inevitably also entails the restriction of the former? In fact, there is a transcendental link between the sign and the meaning, arising from the fact that they have a common origin, recognized in the activity of the productive imagination that determines both the way in which we experience the world as the way we talk about it. For this reason, as Fichte also argues in the 1795 article, Von der Sprachfähigkeit und dem Ursprung der Sprache, the genesis of the language is the task of the Witz and it inevitably bears the trace, as any product does, originating from it. The positivity of language, which is compatible with the activity of the imagination and the relational nature of consciousness, forges language as a place of mutual determination with another freedom that decides in accordance with reason, and constitutes a further feature of the Fichtean reflection on language as well as that of negativity, so important that it is deserving of a more in-depth study. Antonella Carbone

Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Die späten wissenschaftlichen Vorlesungen iv, 1: Transzendentale Logik 1 (1812). Neu herausgegeben von Hans Georg von Manz und Ives Radrizzani. Unter Mitarbeit von Erich Fuchs. Frommann-Holzboog Verlag, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt, 2019

Durch einen kritischen und fruchtbaren Vergleich von Manuskript und Kollegnachschriften bietet die fortlaufende Veröffentlichung der späten wissenschaftlichen Vorlesungen, zu der auch die Transzendentale Logik i (1812) gehört, einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit mit erhöhter Zuverlässigkeit und erleichterter Lesbarkeit Einsicht in die späte Philosophie Fichtes. Zudem wird ein Einblick in seinen systematischen Plan in der Berliner Zeit (1809–1814) gewährt. Die Vorlesungen Fichtes in Berlin sind fünffachlich organisiert: Die Tatsachen des Bewusstseins und die transzendentale Logik bieten Einführungen in die im Zentrum stehende Wissenschaftslehre; die Sitten- und Rechtslehre gelten als weitere Entwicklungsstufen desselben Projekts. Als Einführung in die Philosophie beschränkt sich die transzendentale Logik auf den Grundriss der Logik und die Grundformen des Wissens. Die 57 Vorlesungen der Transzendentalen Logik i (20.04.1812–14.08.1812) konzentrieren sich auf das „Verhältniß der Logik zur wirklichen Philosophie“, das durch Fichtes Lehren des „Unterschied[es] zwischen der Logik und der Philosophie selbst“ in der Transzendentalen Logik ii (22.10.1812–18.12.1812) ergänzt und weiterentwickelt wird. In den ersten 29 Vorlesungen präsentiert Fichte eine formale Grundlage für Logik, die durch eine in den letzten 26 Vorlesungen angebotene inhaltliche Grundlage der Logik berichtigt und ergänzt wird. Die Breite und Tiefe der Bemühungen Fichtes erheben diese Einführung schließlich zu einer Darstellung der Wissenschaftslehre selbst.

1

Fichtes transzendentale Fundierung der Form der Logik

Laut Fichte verhält sich „die Logik […] zur Philosophie wie Empirie zur Wissenschaft“ (S. 10). Dies bedeutet, dass die formale Logik nicht in der Lage ist, sich selbst zu begründen. Dieser Mangel manifestiert sich anhand von drei Aspekten. Der erste betrifft die Begründung der Vorstellung. Da sich die Logik auf die Abstraktion und Verallgemeinerung von phänomenalen Vorstellungen stützt, setzt sie ein besonderes Sein und schließlich ein stehenbleibendes „absolutes Seyn“ (ebd.) voraus. Die formale Logik ist nicht in der Lage, ein Fundament fürs Sein zu legen. Zweitens befasst sich die Logik zwar mit Formen des Denkens, aber sie erhebt das Denken nicht auf die Ebene des Selbstbegreifens, sodass die absolute Form erreicht werden kann. Drittens hängen die beiden vorherge-

© Zhu Lei, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_023

446

lei

henden Aspekte von einem anschauenden bzw. denkenden Ich ab, das aber als ein vorausgesetztes „individuell[es]“ und „subjektiv[es]“ (S. 14) „Ding an sich, u. Princip“ (S. 10) lediglich „ein occultes Ich“ (S. 13) ausmacht. Diese drei Aspekte zeigen laut Fichte den Grundrahmen der formalen Logik auf: Ästhetik, Logik selbst – die sich aus „Begriffen – Urtheilen – und Schlüssen“ (S. 18) zusammensetzt – und individuelles Ich als ein gemeinsames Prinzip von Ästhetik und Logik. Um die Logik zu transzendieren bzw. zu begründen, stellt Fichte eine neue triadische Struktur vor. Zunächst wird alles Sein in der Philosophie als „gesezmässiges Seyn“ (S. 10) angesichts der „Begründung des Phänomens des logischen Ich“ (S. 11) betrachtet. Zweitens geht alles Gesetz des Seins von der Ichform im Sinne von „Wissen vom Wissen“ (S. 31) bzw. „Begreifen des Begriffs selbst“ aus, die das individuelle Ich zusammen mit der die Totalität der Phänomene bildenden „ganzen Form des Wissens“ hervorbringt (S. 11). Drittens wird das Wissen selbst als der „unbegreiflich[e]“ „absolute Inhalt“ (ebd.) des Wissens angesehen. Es ist das Prinzip des Systems der Formen des Wissens, das lediglich durch das individuelle Ich im Sinne von „Principiat“ (S. 166) sichtbar ist. Mit diesen drei Aspekten, die sich jeweils mit Phänomenen, System und Prinzip befassen, kommen wir zu Fichtes Definition der „Wissenschaftslehre, d.h. Lehre von dem Wissen selbst als einem absoluten Princip eines Systems von Phänomenen“ (S. 3). Das Grundgesetz der Wissenschaftslehre ist deshalb Folgendes: Das „Wissen soll sich begreifen […] als Erscheinung des absoluten“ (S. 19) im System der entfalteten Begriffe. Mit der in der Wissenschaftslehre inhärenten Struktur legt Fichte in vier Schritten den Grundstein für formale Logik: [1] Wissen selbst, d.h. das unbegreifliche Leben; [2] Reflex oder Sehen des Lebens; [3] Reflexion im Sinne von Sehen des Sehens des Lebens und [4] Logik als „Nachkonstruktion einer Nachkonstruktion“ (S. 13), da sie ein Nachbild des Reflexes des Lebens ist. Um die von der Logik nachgebildete Nachkonstruktion erreichen zu können, sind die Übergänge „der Elemente von Vorstellungen zu Begriffen, der Begriffe zu Urtheilen, der Urtheile zu Schlüßen“ (S. 6) unentbehrlich. Fichte konzentriert sich vor allem auf die ersten beiden Übergänge, die er durch das Sehen bzw. das Sehen des Sehens bezeichnet. Der erste handelt von „der Grundlage der Lehre von der Empirie, u. dem empirischen Begriffe, als dem ersten Begriffe“ (S. 76) und stellt vor allem eine Überführung vom Werden zum Sein dar.1 Der zweite Übergang ist eine „Lehre von dem Urtheile, dem zweiten Theile der gewöhnlichen Logik“ (ebd.), die die Entfaltung 1 Es geht um die Grundlage der Begriffslehre und nicht um die Entstehung des Begriffs, denn der Begriff erscheint nur in der Gegebenheit für das Begreifen, nämlich im Sehen des Sehens: „der Begriff ist drum eine Anschauung nur des Sehens selbst in seiner ursprünglichen Gegebenheit“ (S. 111).

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

447

der Einheit in der Mannigfaltigkeit sowie die Überbrückung der Subjektivität mit der Objektivität erklärt. Mit der Urteilslehre verfeinert Fichte nicht nur die Begriffslehre, sondern schließt auch die Schlusslehre ab. 1.1 Das Sehen Beim Sehen handelt es sich grundsätzlich um den Übergang vom Werden zum Sein, was dem Begriff eine Grundlage liefert. „Das Sehen […] ist in sich selbst nichts anders als der unmittelbare Reflex des lebendigen Bildens“ (S. 80), was den Übergang vom Bildsetzen zum Gebildetsein ermöglicht. Das Leben kann also von zwei Gesichtspunkten ausgehend verstanden werden: Lebensakt und Lebensbild. Den Lebensakt bezeichnet Fichte als vivere, was auf „Freiheit, d. i. absolute[n] Fluss“ (S. 96) im „Akt des Herstellens des Bildes“ (S. 80) hindeutet, während das Lebensbild vita „ein Produkt des Lebens“ präsentiert, in dem „das fliessende Leben zum Stehen“ (S. 90) gelangt. Im Vergleich zum Lebensakt ist das Lebensbild nichts als ein „Ding an sich“ bzw. „ein todtes Bild“ (S. 81). Als Lebensakt wird das Sehen von Fichte unter zwei miteinander verflochtenen Aspekten analysiert: Anschauen und Denken. Das Sehen ist einerseits „[d]as erste, das blosse hinsehen = Anschauung“ (S. 20). Dieses Hinsehen ist „ein Verschwinden u. aufgehen des Sehens ins Objekt, als abgesondertes Faktum“, das ein „absolut unmittelbares ursprüngliches Vorstellen“ ausmacht (S. 8). Das abgesonderte Faktum besteht aus „Elemente[n] von Vorstellungen zu Begriffen“ (S. 6), worauf im folgenden Abschnitt noch eingegangen wird. Verglichen mit dem Anschauen, das den Akt ins Sein als ins Vermögen zusammenzieht, ist die Funktion des Denkens das „[E]rzeugen des Charakters“2 (S. 20) des Seins durch das Setzen des Verbindens3 als des in demselben Sein das Leben repräsentierenden Bildes. Denken ist auch Lebensakt, denn das einzige Handelnde vor der Erscheinung des Selbstbewusstseins ist das Leben und „das Leben selbst denkt“ (S. 230). Anschauen und Denken sind differenzierbar, aber untrennbar im Leben. Gemeinsam produzieren sie ein Bildsein, sodass es einen Gegenstand zum Reflektieren gibt, der sich als Leben erkennen lässt. Durch das Zusammentreffen von Anschauen und Denken ist die Form des Sehens notwendig zweifach. Durch das Anschauen ist das Leben ins Bildsein konzentriert, d.h., die „Mannigfaltigkeit ist gesezt durch das Leben, den Fluß“ (S. 96). Daraus ergibt sich die „Form des Lebens“ (S. 143), die sich durch Unab2 Beim Begreifen und Verstehen ist das Begriffene nicht Lebens- bzw. Freiheitsprodukt selbst, sondern Charakter des Lebensprodukts. 3 Laut Fichte ist Begreifen oder Denken ausnahmslos immer ein Zusammensetzen der Mannigfaltige. Das reine Sein ist eine Synthese der fünf ursprünglichen Elemente, insofern als es im Seinsbegriff auftaucht. Dies wird im folgenden Abschnitt erklärt werden.

448

lei

geschlossenheit und Gesetzlosigkeit charakterisieren lässt. Durch das Denken bzw. das Setzen des Verbindens wird die „Einheit der Mannigfaltigkeit“ verursacht (S. 98). Dies macht die „Form des Bildes“ (ebd.) aus, die von Einheit, Geschlossenheit und Gesetzmäßigkeit vorgestellt wird. Diese Duplizität der Form ermöglicht gleichzeitig Wahrheit und Irrtum. Das Begreifen im Sehen des Sehens ist „in der Wahrheit“ (S. 105) immer das Selbstbegreifen des Sehens, in dem sich das Begriffene als Form des Lebensbildes vorfindet. Aber „das sich sehen ist gesezlich […], als ob es sich sehe“ (ebd.). Dieses ‚als ob‘ deutet darauf hin, dass der Lebensakt als solcher immer noch als „das unbegriffene“ (S. 22) Gesetzlose fortbesteht und somit das Selbstbegreifen letztendlich nur als ein „Begreifen von nichts“ zählt (S. 99). Obwohl die „Gesezmässigkeit innerhalb der Gesezlosigkeit“ „eine Notwendigkeit“ (S. 104) ist, können jede besondere Totalität der Gesetze bzw. jede mögliche Naturordnung nichts als „die subjektiven Bedingungen der Erkenntniß der Wahrheit“ betrachtet werden, „unter welcher der ganze Umfang des Wissens erscheinen kann. / gar nicht nothwendig muß“ (S. 17). 1.2 Das Sehen des Sehens Um eine Urteilslehre anzubieten, beschäftigt sich Fichte beim Sehen des Sehens mit dem Übergang von der Einheit zur Mannigfaltigkeit sowie von der Subjektivität zur Objektivität. Der Ausgangspunkt in dieser Phase ist nicht das Leben als solches, sondern die Reflexion. Die „Reflexion ist dieses Sehen des Sehens“ (S. 87) für Fichte, mit dem er die Bedingung des Urteils verdeutlicht. Die Urteilslehre in der Transzendentalen Logik i soll nicht eine bestimmte Menge von Kategorien liefern, sondern das Subsumieren – d. h. das Analysieren der Weisen des Begreifens aufgrund des Selbstbegreifens bzw. das Entstehen der mannigfaltigen Begriffe innerhalb des Seinsbegriffs – erklären. Bei der Urteilslehre geht es darum, „differentia specifica eines genus des Sehens“ (S. 87) zu etablieren. Das bedeutet auch, dass nur bei der Urteilslehre erwartet werden kann, eine vollkommen entwickelte Begriffslehre zu überblicken sowie eine dem Syllogismus grundlegende Schlusslehre aufzustellen. Das Sehen selbst wird sowohl als Ich als auch als Nicht-Ich gesehen, was mit den Formen des Subsumierens verflochten ist. Es gibt dementsprechend zwei Formen des Subsumierens: Zum einen werden auf der subjektiven Seite alle Prädikate als Verbindungsweisen unter dem Ich subsumiert, sodass die „Wirk[liche]. Sehe=Subsumtion eines besondern Sehens unter das Sehen überhaupt“ (S. 92). Zum anderen bedeutet es auf der objektiven Seite, dass die „Erscheinung [sich] begreift“ – d.h.: „Die Erscheinung subsumirt sich unter einem Begriffe A und sagt auch dabei daß sie A sei“ (S. 135). In diesem Sinne ist das Sehen des Sehens eine „Reflexion erster Potenz“ (ebd.) bzw. eine Auflösung der ursprünglichen

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

449

Materialität. Das (Ur-)Teilen der Materialität mündet in die „Bestimmung des Gebiets der empirischen Begriffe“ (S. 87), was das Fundament für die formale Logik legt. Fichte muss den selbstbegründenden Akt der Reflexion untersuchen, um die Bedingung für die Überführung von der Subjektivität zur Objektivität sowie von der Einheit zur Mannigfaltigkeit darzulegen. Denken ist das Selbstbegreifen des Lebens durch das Bild. Anders gesagt, „[d]as […] hinsehen des bestimmten Charakters des Angeschauten = verstehen, oder begreifen; den Charakter selbst – das als – nennt man den Begriff“ (S. 20). Begreifen spielt zwei Rollen. Einerseits produziert es das Sein, denn „[m]an begreift es als das u. das seyend“ (S. 23); andererseits bewirkt es das Werden, denn „[m]an begreift es als begründet auf die u. die Weise“ (ebd.). Im Selbstbegreifen begründet das Sehen sich selbst als seyend. Da das Sehen sich als Grund des Seins, d. h. als rein freies Werden, betrachtet, ist das stehenbleibende Sein als ein Fremdes zu berücksichtigen. Selbstbegreifen ist gleichzeitig Selbstidentifizieren und Selbstentfremden. Dies stellt die Überführung von der Subjektivität zur Objektivität klar. „([D]ie Synthesis zwischen S[ubjekt] u[nd] O[bjekt].) bring Einheit u[nd]. Mannigfaltigkeit mit sich“ für Fichte (S. 100). Obwohl das Leben nicht nur das Eine, sondern auch das Werden ist, haben beide Charaktere nichts miteinander zu tun, bevor die Synthese zwischen Subjekt und Objekt hergestellt ist. Das Leben als Objekt entspringt dem Setzen der „Mannigfaltigkeit […] durch das Leben, den Fluß“ (S. 96), während das Leben als Subjekt der „Fluß des Sehens über ein mannigfaltiges“ (S. 100) ist. Durch das Selbstidentifizieren setzt das Leben seine auseinanderliegenden Formen, d.i. Form des Lebens und Form des Bildes, zusammen und erzeugt die „Form des Ich, die Identität des Bildes, u. des gebildeten“ (S. 81), sodass das Leben Das-Eine-Werden, d. h. eine organische Einheit der Mannigfaltigkeit, ausmacht. In der Ichform müssen zwei Schichten gleichzeitig vorhanden und miteinander verbunden sein, aber sie stehen im Widerspruch zueinander. Qualitativ muss der Umfang des Begriffenen begrenzt werden, sodass das Begreifen davon, dass das Leben ist, überhaupt denkbar wird. Quantitativ muss das Begriffene unbegrenzt sein, sodass das Begreifende als unendlicher Fluss, d.i. als Was-das-Leben-ist, betrachtet werden kann. Dementsprechend ist das Werden oder die Mannigfaltigkeit für das Selbstbegreifen eine durch ein Bild des Werdens homogenisierte Heterogenität bzw. quantisierte Qualität. In der Struktur des Sehens des Sehens ist das gesehene Sehen eine qualitative Einheit einer quantitativ geschlossenen Mannigfaltigkeit. Subjektiv gesehen ist es ein Akt des Anschauens, nämlich ein „SehAkt“ (S. 101), der aus fünf Weisen des Anschauens im Sinne von fünf „Sehmoment[en]“ (S. 100) besteht. Objektiv gesehen ist es „die organische Einheit deines Mannigfaltigen, α β γ δ ε“ (ebd.), die „die letzten, schlechthin gegebnen“

450

lei

(S. 102) „sinnliche[n] Qualitäten“ (S. 103) bzw. die schlechthin unsichtbaren „absoluten Element[e] der Sichtbarkeit“ (S. 36) ausmachen. Jeder Begriff setzt sich qualitativ aus diesen fünf Elementen zusammen: „Da alles ein Mannigfaltiges sind, so können sie als verschiedne sich unterscheiden nur durch eine andere Zusammensetzung dieser Mannigfaltigkeit“ (S. 34), d. h. des Mannigfaltigen, α β γ δ ε. Das sehende Sehen ist eine quantitative Einheit einer quantitativ unendlichen Teilbarkeit. Subjektiv gesehen setzt sich diese Einheit aus „Weisen des Begreifens“ (S. 88) zusammen, deren objektive Entsprechungen empirische Begriffe sind. Die Synthese von unsichtbaren qualitativen Elementen mit begreiflichen quantitativen Begriffen errichtet die Intuition, die eine Kombination von reiner Anschauung mit sinnlicher Anschauung ist; während die Zusammenstellung des Sehaktes mit Begreifen Reflexion, nämlich eine Synthese des reinen Begreifens mit dem individuellen Begreifen, erzeugt.4 Die Synthese von Intuition und Reflexion konstituiert die Erfahrung bzw. das wirkliche Bewusstsein, d.h. „die absolut organische Einheit des Begriffs mit der Anschauung“ (S. 39). In genialer Weise bedient sich Fichte der Sprache, um die organische Synthese der qualitativen Einheit mit der quantitativen Einheit zu veranschaulichen. Diese Synthese lässt sich sogar zur Erklärung des grundlegenden Schemas aus Anschauung (Vorstellung), Begriff, Urteil und Schluss heranziehen. Die reine Anschauung gilt als Laut überhaupt im Sinne von „Lautsystem“ (S. 94), sodass die Anschauung als solche für ein Anschauungssystem gehalten werden muss. Das Lautsystem besteht aus fünf „Grundlaute[n]“ bzw. aus der die Elemente der Anschauung (α β γ δ ε) repräsentierenden „Besonderheit[en]: a e i o u“ (S. 93). Darüber hinaus etabliert „eine bestimmte Anzahl Mitlauter“ (ebd.) ein Mitlautsystem im Sinne von einem Kategoriensystem. Kategorien sind die „obersten Formen alles Begreifens“ (S. 64) und machen gleichzeitig gründliche Verbindungsweisen bzw. „das Grundgesez des Lautes“ (S. 94) aus, sodass ein empirischer Begriff als ein „Ausdruk des Beisammenseyns“ der „so u. soviel Elemente der Anschauung“ betrachtet werden kann (S. 29), obwohl sowohl Lautsystem als auch Mitlautsystem allein dem Wesen nach unsichtbar ist. Der ursprüngliche und höchste Treffpunkt des Lautsystems (des Anschauungssystems) mit dem Mitlautsystem (dem Kategoriensystem) ist der Logos überhaupt im Sinne von reiner Sprachfähigkeit (der Seinsbegriff überhaupt im Sinne von reiner Begreifensfähigkeit oder „Sehensmöglicheit“ (S. 106), die eine qualitativ „geschloßne Sphäre des möglichen Sehens“ und gleichzeitig eine 4 Fichte bedient sich der Reflexion auf zwei Arten. Zur Reflexion gehört die Intuition, wenn Reflexion als Sehen des Sehens mit dem Sehen verglichen wird. Sie schließt die Intuition aus, wenn sie als ein inneres Sehen des Sehens verstanden wird.

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

451

quantitativ unendliche „Modifikabilität“ ist (S. 93)). Durch die völlige Kombination jener zwei Systeme wird ein Sprachsystem bzw. ein „Begriffsystem“ (S. 94) generiert. Das Begriffssystem setzt sich aus empirischen Modifikationen, die durch die unter den „Grundbegriffe[n]“ oder unter den Kategorien „untergeordnete[n] Begriffe“ gestaltet werden, zusammen (S. 93). Das Begriffssystem ist eine die qualitative Einheit assimilierende quantitativ-organische Einheit der unendlichen „Geseze des wirklichen Wissens“ (S. 94), in der die Überordnungsund Unterordnungsbeziehung der konkreten Begriffe alles logische Urteilen ermöglicht. Aber bis jetzt sind alle Begriffe noch im Zustand der Möglichkeit, es wird kein einziges spezifisches Wort gesprochen. Jede Verwirklichung, d. h. jeder Schluss, ist nur aufgrund der „Vernichtung der übrigen möglichen“ (ebd.) möglich. Eigentliche Empirie oder wirkliches Sehen ist deshalb „ein bestimmtes quantum u. quale der Sichtbarkeit“ (S. 92). 1.3 Zwei Probleme in Fichtes Begründung der Form der Logik Aus zwei Gründen, die mit dem Leben zu tun haben, ist die bisherige Leistung für Fichte jedoch nur der erste Teil seiner Vorlesungen. Eine bedeutsame Errungenschaft der ersten 29 Unterrichtsstunden besteht darin, durch die Schaffung von Grundlagen für die formale Logik zu zeigen, dass „Wissen vom Wissen […] durchaus alles empirische Wissen“ begleitet und dass die Struktur des Wissens „nicht dreifach, sondern 5fach“ ist (S. 77). Das ist offensichtlich eine Kritik an Kant. Die Fünffachheit umfasst Folgendes: [1] ein rein fließendes Sehen; [2] „ein seyendes Sehen“ (S. 205) oder „Reflex eines Flusses“ (S. 204), was die „Materialität“ (ebd.) vertritt; [3] das als die Mitte der Fünffachheit stehende Wissen, dem die ganze Fünffachheit gehört; [4] das selbstbegreifende bzw. selbstbegriffene Ich im Sehen des Sehens und [5] das Nicht-Ich, d. i. das Sehen des Sehens als Selbstentfaltung im empirischen System. Das Problem ist, anstatt mit dem wirklichen Leben beginnen zu können, kann die Fünffachheit lediglich mit dem Leben im Sinne von Bildlichkeit stattfinden. Weil ein „reines Leben“ im Sinne von „Freiheit an sich“ „gar nicht giebt“, soll es lediglich als ein im Begriffssystem unausweichlich und grundlegend Unbegreifliches postuliert sein (S. 196). Fichte nennt das reine Leben ab Vorlesung 33 ‚Bildlichkeit‘. Dementsprechend hat die „Bildlichkeit […] kein Leben; u. kann sich nicht darstellen. Die Erscheinung in ihr müste seyn. Diese [ist] der wahre verborgene Grund“ (S. 205) bzw. das wahre Leben. Wäre das reine Leben das wahre Leben, wäre Fichte mit zwei Problemen konfrontiert. Zunächst müsste er das Auftreten von Denken und Intelligenz durch Materialität erklären. Wird der dritte Punkt aus der Fünffachheit weggenommen, wäre es die Reihenfolge, mit der Fichte der Logik eine Grundlage anbieten müsste. Der Übergang vom zweiten zum vierten Punkt würde bedeuten, dass Materialität sich „versteht“ und

452

lei

sich eigenständig in die Geistlichkeit transformiert, was „eine unrichtige Vorstellung“ wäre (S. 204f.). Wäre außerdem das reine Leben tatsächlich lebendig, würde die Erscheinung der unmittelbare Ausdruck Gottes sein, sodass das Wesen des Lebens durch selbst auferlegtes empirisches Wissen durchsichtig wäre und „das ganze Wissen mit der empirie abgeschlossen wäre“ (S. 192). Das zweite Problem handelt vom Naturleben. Eine weitere Leistung in den ersten 29 Vorträgen ist, zu zeigen, „daß die Begriffe schlechthin apriorisch sind, nur […] Sehweisen, keinesweges Beschaffenheiten der Dinge“ ausdrücken (S. 126). Dies ist eine transzendentale Deduktion der Form von Begriffen, aber „den notwendigen Inhalt dieser Begriffe“ (S. 127) hat Fichte noch nicht apriorisch abgeleitet. Der Inhalt ist „nicht im Begriffe ausgedrückt“, sondern ein „Unbegreifliches“ bzw. ein „Gesetzloses“ (ebd.), d. i. das „Naturleben“ (S. 216), was man „beweisen“ (S. 128), aber nicht begreifen kann. Ohne diesen unbegreiflichen Inhalt der Begriffe ableiten zu können, müsste Fichte auch in Kants Zustand geraten, wobei die Gesetzmäßigkeit oder die „Zweckmäßigkeit der Natur“, die „weder ein Naturbegrif, noch ein Freyheitsbegrif“ ist, „in Absicht auf eine durchgängig zusammenhängende Erfahrung“ nichts als „ein glücklicher unsre Absicht begünstigender Zufall wäre“ (KdU, aa/5, 184). Um die für Kant „unerforschlich[e] Einheit“ der Natur und die von Kant unberührte „eigentliche Empirie“ zu beweisen, identifiziert Fichte gewissermaßen Raum und Zeit mit Begriffen, wie wir im nächsten Abschnitt sehen werden (S. 127). Dies ist eine weitere Umgestaltung des Verhältnisses zwischen transzendentaler Ästhetik und transzendentaler Logik, nachdem Fichte in der Ableitung der Begriffsform die unmittelbare Anschaubarkeit der sinnlichen Qualitäten verneint hat.

2

Fichtes transzendentale Grundlegung des Inhalts der Logik

Jene beiden Probleme sind miteinander verflochten, da das Naturleben das tatsächliche Leben des postulierten Lebens ist: „[E]ine genetische Anschauung des NichtIch […] ist das eigne Leben der Bildlichkeit, das sich macht: nicht etwas, welches das Ich, als das blosse formale Bild jenes, macht“ (S. 182). Mit den eben erwähnten Problemen vertieft Fichte die Absicht der transzendentalen Logik und erweitert den Horizont derselben. Nach einigen Übergangsvorlesungen geht Fichte ab Vorlesung 36 auf einen „tiefer[en] u. klärer[en]“ und „bisher auch […] nicht eingeschlagenen Weg“ (S. 150), womit er, wie er in Vorlesung 30 verspricht, „in Rüksicht auf Logik […] der Philosophie einen großen Dienst thun“ kann (S. 128). Demnach verfolgt Fichte zwei miteinander verbundene Absichten: „Wir wollen 1.). ein neues Licht verbreiten über die w.l. 2.). eben

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

453

die Ableitung, die unser eigentlicher Zwek ist, des Inhalts der Empirie, dem Begriffe nach, tief genug begründen“ (ebd.). Der folgende Teil dient dazu, Fichtes neue Fünffachheit und seinen Lebensbeweis zu veranschaulichen. Der neue Ausgangspunkt der Fünffachheit ist nicht das Wissen als solches, sondern die Empirie als das Zusammensetzen von Leben und Sehen. Es handelt sich nicht um eine absolute Identität ohne Differenz, d. h. um ein das Eine präsentierendes Werden. Es dreht sich lediglich um eine die Identität ohne Differenz postulierende und doch absolute Identität der Differenz. Um absolut sein zu können, soll die Empirie sich begreifen bzw. begründen. Dementsprechend soll die „Einheit des Lebens u. seines Reflexes […] drum noch in einem wirklichen Sehen sich darstellen laßen“ (S. 133). Das wirkliche Sehen ist Erscheinung und der „Mittelpunkt der Erscheinung überhaupt […] ist bekanntlich die Reflexion“ (S. 196). Die Fünffachheit der Empirie hängt deswegen von der Struktur der Reflexion ab. Die Entfaltung der Fünffach-Struktur der Reflexion basiert auf drei miteinander verbundenen Synthesen bzw. Analysen. Für Fichte ist die „Reflexion […] [ein] unmittelbares Bild des Lebens im Sehen, [ein] Bild in welchem Leben u. Sehen durchdrungen ist“ (S. 186). [1] Auflösung und Konkretion des Lebens. Leben ist reines Werden, dessen wesentlicher Akt das Sichsehen ist. Das Sehen des Lebens erzeugt eine „Duplicität der Form in absoluter Einheit über die ganze Empirie“: Lebensform und Sehensform (Bildform) (S. 187). Wie wir schon gesehen haben, ist Lebensform eine Form der Freiheit oder der Gesetzlosigkeit des Lebens, während das Sehen die Form der Notwendigkeit oder der Gesetzmäßigkeit des Sehens des Lebens vertritt. Diese Notwendigkeit bedeutet, dass das Leben sich selbst als Leben begreifen soll. Um die reine Freiheit des Lebens repräsentieren zu können, ist die Lebensform „Genesis“ im Sinne von „Herstellung der Mannigfaltigkeit“ durch Einheit (Das-Eine-Werden), oder „Analyse“ (ebd.) im Sinne von „Auflösung“ oder „Succeßion des Mannigfaltigen“ zu verstehen (S. 199). Im Vergleich dazu ist die Sehensform aufgrund der Notwendigkeit der Darstellung des Lebens das „Seyn“ oder die „Concretion“ (S. 187) im Sinne von „Zugleichseyn“ (S. 194) des Mannigfaltigen, wobei die Einheit ein „Produkt einer Mannigfaltigkeit“ ist (S. 187). [2] Produktivität und Rezeptivität des Sehens. Eine Sehensform setzt sich aus Rezeptivität im Anschauen und Produktivität im Begreifen zusammen, sodass das Leben als Inhalt dargestellt wird. Als weitere Bestimmung der Auflösung und Konkretion des Lebens bestehen beide Sehensformen aus zwei Dimensionen. Im Anschauen ist Zeit die Form der Auflösung und Raum die Form der Konkretion. Somit ist Zeit „aufgelöster Raum“ und Raum „concrete Zeit“ (S. 188). Im Begreifen wird etwas begriffen, wie wir schon gesehen haben, entweder „als […] seyend“ oder „als begründet“ (S. 23). Aus Gründen der Bequem-

454

lei

lichkeit nennen wir diese beiden Formen Verstehen bzw. Begründen. Anschauungsformen (Raum und Zeit) und Begriffsformen (Verstehen und Begründen) sind dem Wesen nach identisch. [3] Innerlichkeit und Äußerlichkeit des Sehens des Lebens. Da sich sowohl Rezeptivität als auch Produktivität aus Auflösung und Konkretion zusammensetzen, liegt das Sehen des Lebens entweder in der Identität der Formen – d. h., beides ist Auflösung oder Konkretion – oder in ihrer Differenz, wonach es sich bei der einen um Auflösung und bei der anderen um Konkretion handelt. Als Übereinstimmung zwischen dem produktiven Bildenden und dem rezeptiven Gebildeten macht die Identität der Formen die Ichform bzw. die Innerlichkeit aus. Im Gegensatz dazu stellt die Differenz der Formen die Nichtich-Form bzw. die Äußerlichkeit her. [3.1] Innerlichkeit als Allgemeinheit und Individualität. Unter Innerlichkeit sind zwei weitere Formen zu finden. Das Zusammenlegen des Raums mit dem Verstehen stellt Allgemeinheit im Sinne von einem gesamten Selbstbewusstsein her, das eine Konkretion des reinen Lebens im angehaltenen Bild ist. Dieses Bewusstsein ist das Sehen oder das „Welt-Ich“ (S. 203), d. i. „Eine Welt reiner Ichheit; Bewußtseyn seiner Gesammtheit“ (S. 201). Die Synthese der Zeit mit dem Begründen bringt Individualität hervor. Selbstreflexion ist das Begreifen der Genesis durch Genesis. Aufgrund der Anwendung der „individuelle[n] Form der Ichheit“ (S. 204) durch Selbstreflexion, d. h. durch das Sehen des Sehens, geht das allgemeine Welt-Ich in eine individualisierte Ich-Welt als eine Welt der „Accidenzen“ über (S. 201). [3.2] Übergang von der Innerlichkeit zur Äußerlichkeit. Als Akzidenzen sind Individuen im Widerspruch miteinander und deshalb unfrei. Jedes individuelle Ich ist doch eine „Darstellung der Selbstständigkeit“ (S. 202) in der „Unselbstständigkeit“ der Akzidenz, denn die „Erscheinung ist in allen Einzelnen sich ihrer bewußt als ein Ganzes“ (S. 201). Die Individuen erscheinen als frei von dem Welt-Ich durch die Reproduktion desselben und das Ergebnis ist die Produktion der Naturwelt. Dies ist die Leistung der Gesamtheit der Individuen, denn in jedem Ich ist „das Eine Weltich, das ja jeder auch bei sich führt“, vorhanden und „scheint eben wieder zu zergehen […] in die allgemeine Materialität“ (S. 204). Es gibt folglich „für alle diese Iche schlechthin eine u. dieselbe gegebne Welt“ (S. 195f.). [3.3] Äußerlichkeit als Möglichkeit und Wirklichkeit. Das Zusammensetzen der Zeit mit Verstehen ruft Möglichkeit hervor. Zeit bezeichnet die zerstreuten und aufgelösten Individuen. Naturwelt ist die Entäußerung des Welt-Ichs in der Ich-Welt. Dementsprechend ist „Materie […] die Sichtbarkeit von Ichen“ (S. 195). Alle möglichen Qualitäten sind schon als Potenzen in der allgemeinen Materialität als Bestimmbarkeit eingeschlossen, weil jede „qualität des

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

455

Sehens […] in demselben Schlage als qualität des Nicht-Ich“ zu besichtigen ist (S. 191). In diesem Sinne ist diese Totalität der Möglichkeiten auch als ein System des Seins zu betrachten. Das Zusammenschließen des Raums mit dem Begründen ist Wirklichkeit. Als das Zugleichsein aller Möglichkeiten ist die allgemeine Materialität auch ein Raum. Begründen bedeutet, eine bestimmte Möglichkeit zu realisieren. Das Verbinden beider führt zu einer „Veränderung einer in der That seyenden Ordnung, welches ist: Synthesis eines bestimmten Raums mit einer bestimmten Qualität“ (S. 212). Veränderung bzw. Verwirklichung werden von Fichte nicht als Kausalverhältnis zwischen Willkürlichkeit als Ursache und Veränderung als Wirkung verstanden. Fichte vertritt hierbei einen Parallelismus zwischen Wollen und Geschehen. Einerseits ist Wollen das „Aufgeben der indifferenten Freiheit, u. Concentration des Bildens auf eins unter den Entgegengesezten“ (S. 212); andererseits soll ein Geschehen „in die stehende Wirklichkeit“ „eintreten“ (ebd.). Aber das Individuum ist nicht der Grund der Veränderung, denn „ich kann nicht sagen: ich rege meine Hand“, sondern „Ich will, dass meine Hand sich rege“, was im Wesentlichen bedeutet: „[I]ch bin das nach Begriffen handelnde“ (S. 213). Gleichwohl ist die „wirkliche Welt […] eine unter den unendlich möglichen Welten schlechthin ohne irgend einen inneren oder äußern Grund wirklich gewordene“ (S. 99 f.). Demnach ist die „absolute Grundlosigkeit, u. Zufälligkeit“ der Gegebenheit „[e]igentlicher Charakter der Empirie“ (S. 100). Die Veränderung der Welt unter „Gesezmässigkeit innerhalb der Gesezlosigkeit“ ist „eine Notwendigkeit“, aber ihre Weise bzw. bestimmte Begriffe sind zufällig (S. 104). Der echte Sinn der Veränderung der Welt ist aber Folgendes: „[D]er einfache Wille bricht aus in dem ganzen Mannigfaltigen, zum Beweis, dass nicht ich das wollende es bin“ (S. 213). Dementsprechend wird ein System des Seins in ein System des Lebens umgewandelt, sodass „das gesammte faktische Seyn […] in ein höheres System des Sehens“ (S. 216) aufgenommen wird. Wenn Leben ist, gestaltet es sich als „eine Synthesis entgegengesezter Glieder“ (S. 217), was die Zusammensetzung von Sein und Werden erzeugt. Leben muss zuerst im Sein erscheinen, damit es ist. Dann kann durch das Aufheben des Seins das „erstorbene u. todte Seyn wieder erweckt werden“ (S. 236), als was es ist. Für Fichte besteht „der Fehler aller Philosophie“ (S. 225) darin, zu glauben, das Leben erscheine in einem Reflex anstatt in einem Reflex des Reflexes. Durch Reflex ist das Leben, aber das „reale (oder eigentlicher das Bild des realen) ist nur das Werden, schlechthin durch absolute Freiheit werden. Das dann aufhört real zu seyn, wenn es ist“ (S. 233). Das Naturleben stellt sich deshalb im Prozess der Entfaltung der Natur dar, wodurch ein Seiendes in der Natur immer durch weitere Bestimmung der Natur negiert wird. Mit dem individuellen Leben kann Fichte die Form der Logik begründen, aber nur durch Naturleben kann er eine Grundlage für den Inhalt der forma-

456

lei

len Logik schaffen. Gleichzeitig beweist Fichte mit dieser Grundlage auch, dass die formale Logik keine Wissenschaft per se sein kann, denn sie erfasst nur die Zufälligkeit des gesetzlosen Lebens. Jetzt können wir einen Blick auf Fichtes neue Fünffachheit werfen. In der vorigen Fünffachheit ist Reflexion nur ein Prinzipat, nämlich „nur der Reflex ist, eines höhern Princips“ (S. 10). Jetzt sind einerseits „Bildlichkeit, Raum, Zeit; ordnen, u. setzen der Qualitäten darin“ durch „reproduktive Einbildungskraft“ der Reflexion begründet, um ihre absolute Freiheit gegen das Ganze, insbesondere gegen die postulierte absolute Bildlichkeit, zu beweisen (S. 161). Andererseits ist das reflektierende Ich (das Prinzipat) im Prozess des Beweisens durch das Leben der Bildlichkeit (das Prinzip), ohne die Abgrenzung von beiden zu beschädigen, gebändigt und mit ihm synthetisiert. Sonach etabliert Fichte die folgende Fünffachheit: [1] das Welt-Ich als Allgemeinheit; [2] die Ich-Welt als Individualitäten; [3] die Reflexion, die aus Prinzip und Prinzipat besteht; [4] das Natursein als Möglichkeit und [5] das Naturleben als Wirklichkeit. Durch diese Fünffachheit charakterisiert Empirie sich selbst als das Sichabbilden der unsichtbaren Bildlichkeit, wodurch der Mechanismus innerhalb der Totalität der Fünffachheit durchschaut werden kann. Einerseits ist Bildlichkeit absolute Freiheit, d.i. „reines Leben“ (S. 196); andererseits ist dieses Leben notwendig. Beide unsichtbaren Charaktere müssen durch ein Bild externalisiert werden. Der Mechanismus der Fünffachheit besteht darin, das Leben durch die Negation der Negation des Lebens, d.h. durch die Auflösung der Konkretion der Auflösung, herbeizuführen. Die Manifestation der Notwendigkeit von reinem Leben ist das Welt-Ich, bei dem es sich um die erste Negation im Sinne von Gegebenheit und Gesetzmäßigkeit des Lebens handelt. Durch die Negation dieser Negation wird „das wirkliche Leben“ (S. 229) als Individualität produziert. Durch die weitere Negation der zweiten manifesten Notwendigkeit bzw. des materialen Naturseins erreicht Fichte „das eigne Leben der Bildlichkeit“ (S. 182), d.h. das Naturleben. Für Fichte kann das reine Leben nur durch das Naturleben und nicht durch das individuelle Leben abgebildet werden. Obwohl sich jeder Mensch in seiner Ichform als die Erscheinung der Freiheit des reinen Lebens betrachtet, ist derselbe nur „das blosse formale Bild“ (ebd.) des reinen Lebens. In der Ich-Welt sind die „individuellen Bewußtseyn“ gegenseitig negierende Akzidenzen und deshalb „nichts an sich“, obwohl die Menschen ihre illusionäre Freiheit bzw. „die Unselbstständigkeit der individuellen Bewußtseyn, auf welcher doch der ganze Beweis, u. die Absicht beruht, nicht zugeben wollen“ (S. 201). Im Gegensatz dazu ist Naturleben eine Erscheinung der Bildlichkeit, weil es lediglich in der Entfaltung des ganzen Natursystems das einzige Leben darstellt. Das Naturleben ist dementsprechend ein inhärenter Teil der Wissenschaftslehre.

fichte, transzendentale logik i (1812)

3

457

Fichtes Kritiken an Jacobi, Kant und Schelling

In dieser Vorlesungsreihe kritisiert Fichte hauptsächlich Jacobi, Kant und Schelling, die für Fichte die Denkweise der formalen Logik nicht überwinden können. In seinem Brief an Fichte (1799) wirft Jacobi Fichte vor, dass er der Menschheit konkretes Leben durch ein von Jacobi ironisch genanntes „höheres Leben“ entziehe und eine nihilistische Grundlage für die weltliche Existenz liefere (Jacobi an Fichte, jwa ii/1, 212). Für Jacobi ist dieses Leben „ein blos logischer Enthusiasmus“, der alles in ein lebloses Vernunftsystem der Wissenschaftslehre aufnimmt (Jacobi an Fichte, jwa ii/1, 205). Indem Fichte das Leben als „vivere nicht vita des Bildens“ (S. 80) definiert, stellt er Jacobis These vom Kopf auf die Füße. Fichte sieht in Jacobis Lebensbegriff nichts als vita – ein totes Leben. Er benutzt Jacobis Sprache und behauptet, dass die echte Offenbarung die „Offenbarung des ursprünglichen Wissens“ sei (S. 17). Der, wer die Welt als etwas Gegebenes betrachtet, „thut die Sünde, u. beharrt, u. lebt in ihr, indem er auf sie schilt“ (S. 10). Fichte ist sich darüber bewusst, dass es zwischen ihm und Jacobi nicht um Überzeugungsarbeit, sondern um widersprüchliche Geschmäcker und Glaubensansichten geht. Auf der Seite der Aufklärung stehend, ist er wie Kant der Meinung, dass man „nur Muth […] zu denken“ (S. 209) aufbringen müsse. Bei Fichte bedeutet dies, dass die Außenwelt nur die Sichtbarkeit des Wissens ist. Zudem hat Fichte die Philosophie Kants kritisch verändert, indem er die kantische Dreifachheit der Struktur des Bewusstseins durch seine Fünffachheit ersetzt hat. Er hat Anschauungsformen mit Begriffsformen wesentlich identifiziert, um die Zufälligkeit der Gesetzmäßigkeit der Natur überwinden zu können. Auflösung und Konkretion sind nicht nur die Formen des Anschauens und des Denkens, sondern auch die Formen des Naturlebens. Dadurch kann die Natur lebendig sein, indem sie eine Verneinung der Verneinung des Lebens durchführt. Diese Leistung mündet auch in Fichtes Kritik an Schellings Naturphilosophie. Fichte behauptet, dass „wir eine reale Natur haben: dagegen sie [= die Naturphilosophen] nur die nichtige“ (S. 195). Dieser Standpunkt hat vor allem mit der Erklärung des Ursprungs und des Wesens der Natur zu tun. Natur ist gleichzeitig Natursein und Naturleben. Der Ursprung beider ist Bildlichkeit, nämlich die Quelle des Ichs. Zumindest kann der späte Fichte nicht mit „das Ich seye Alles“ kritisiert werden (dsp, aa i/10, 111). Natursein ist die Sichtbarkeit der Notwendigkeit der Bildlichkeit durch die Sichtbarkeit der Ich-Welt. Das in Begriffen gestaltete Natursein ist jedoch nur eine zufällig verwirklichte Welt von unendlichen Möglichkeiten. Übereinstimmend dazu beschränkt Schelling seinen objektiven Idealismus auf „nur den Fall als möglich“, und warnt, dass er „mit dem Wort Idealismus über den eigentlichen Inhalt eines unter diesem Namen aufgestellten Systems

458

lei

durchaus nichts erfahren“ kann (dsp, aa i/10, 111). Das wesentlich gesetzlose, unbegreifliche Naturleben ist laut Fichte das Wesen der Natur. Naturleben ist die Abbildung der Freiheit bzw. die Nachbildung des Wesens der Bildlichkeit. Als gesetzloses Werden ist es als das „reale (oder eigentlicher das Bild des realen)“ (S. 233) bzw. als der „absolute Inhalt“ (S. 11) des Wissens zu verstehen. Das Begreifen der zufälligen Beispiele ist für Fichte letztendlich nichts als „ein Sehen von Nichts“ (S. 111). In diesem Sinne ist die Naturphilosophie Schellings für Fichte nicht weit von formaler Logik entfernt. Es bedeutet keineswegs, dass Fichte verspricht, den Inhalt erfasst zu haben. Naturleben ist Fichte zufolge lediglich das Bild des Realen, das man nur „beweisen“ (S. 128) kann. Zhu Lei

Thomas Sören Hoffmann (Hrsg.), Fichtes Geschlossener Handelsstaat. Beiträge zur Erschließung eines Anti-Klassikers. Duncker & Humblot, Berlin 2018

1

Einleitung

Der von Thomas Sören Hoffmann herausgegebene Sammelband mit dem Titel „Fichtes Geschlossener Handelsstaat. Beiträge zur Erschließung eines AntiKlassikers“ ist das Ergebnis einer in Berlin (2014) stattgefundenen internationalen Fachtagung zum Thema „Fichtes Geschlossener Handelsstaat – Über Ort und Ortlosigkeit der Ökonomie im transzendentalen System“. Der Sammelband enthält acht Beiträge (von Jacinto Rivera de Rosales, Jürgen Stahl, Douglas Moggach, Marco Ivaldo, Klaus Honrath, Günter Zöller, David James und Thomas Sören Hoffmann) und eine ausführliche und weiterführende Bibliografie. Er beabsichtigt das um 1800 veröffentlichte Buch Johann Gottlieb Fichtes mit dem gleichnamigen Titel Der Geschlossene Handelsstaat1 detailliert zu analysieren und zu kommentieren. Man kann Fichtes Geschlossenen Handelsstaat als einen Versuch des Philosophen bezeichnen, in die Politik seiner Zeit einzugreifen, mit dem Ziel, die konkrete Freiheit des Individuums bestimmen zu wollen.

2

Der geschlossene Handelsstaat im Kontext der praktischen Philosophie Fichtes (Jacinto Rivera de Rosales)

Im ersten Beitrag von Jacinto Rivera de Rosales werden einleitend wichtige Informationen bezüglich der Entstehung des Werks und der Funktion, die dieses in seinem Gesamtwerk einnimmt, dargestellt. Rosales ordnet den Geschlossenen Handelsstaat in der zweiten Schaffensperiode des Philosophen ein, d. h. in der Zeit zwischen 1796 und 1801. Zu dieser Zeit verfasst Fichte auch die Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo. Wissenschaften wie die Natur-, Rechts-, Sittenund Religionslehre, vier in der Zahl, werden aus der Wissenschaftslehre abgeleitet und bilden somit die berühmte Fünffachkeit, die für die Philosophie Fichtes eine bedeutsame Rolle spielt. Rosales’ Absicht ist es somit, den systematischen Charakter des Fichteschen Denkens hervorzuheben. Der wichtigste Bezugspunkt zum Verständnis des Handelsstaates ist allerdings die Grundlage des Naturrechts nach Prinzipien der Wissenschaftslehre (1796–1797), die nach Rosales auch das Fundament des Handelsstaates ausmacht (S. 15). 1 Der vollständige Titel des Buches lautet: Der geschloßne Handelsstaat. Ein philosophischer Entwurf als Anhang zur Rechtslehre, und Probe einer künftig zu liefernden Politik. Vgl. ga (i,7).

© Konstantinos Masmanidis, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004459793_024

460

masmanidis

Rosales erkennt im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat vier Grundideen, die seiner Auffassung nach auch die Grundlage des Fichteschen Gesamtkonzepts wiedergeben. Das sind die Ideen der Freiheit, des Gesellschaftsvertrags, der Materialität der Welt und des Eigentums. Das Rechtsgesetz, das eine sehr zentrale Rolle im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat einnimmt, versteht Fichte als ein Gesetz der Freiheit (S. 18). Freiheit wird hier verstanden, im Unterschied zur Natur (die Gesetze der Natur betrachtet Fichte als mechanisch), als die Möglichkeit, sich selbst bestimmen zu können. Diese Selbstbestimmung muss wiederum als ein Sollen verstanden werden, als eine Aufgabe sich als frei zu verwirklichen. Nur durch den „Begriff“ kann man sich als freies Wesen erkennen, d.h. nur vernünftige Wesen können frei sein. Denn nur durch das Denken ist es dem Menschen möglich, seine Unmittelbarkeit zu transzendieren und die Verantwortung für seine Handlungen, die nicht durch die Natur determiniert sind, zu übernehmen (S. 19). Aber Freiheit, wie auch Subjektivität, können nicht von isolierten Individuen verwirklicht werden (S. 24). Die Verwirklichung der Freiheit bedarf einer Gemeinschaft, die durch das Anerkennungsprinzip durchdrungen sein muss, bzw. bedarf letztendlich der Abschließung eines Gesellschaftsvertrages. Denn geht ein Individuum einen solchen Vertrag ein, verliert es zwar seine natürliche Freiheit, gewinnt aber die moralische Freiheit in der Gemeinde, die von der Vernunft vorgegeben ist (S. 24). Darüber hinaus unterstreicht Rosales die Bedeutung der Materialität für die Realisierung der Freiheit (S. 28). Die Freiheit benötigt die Welt, um sich zu verwirklichen. Die Welt, so Rosales, ist ein notwendiges Moment des Selbstbewusstseins des reinen Ich: „Ohne Welt oder gegebene Materialität gäbe es kein absolutes Ich und keine Freiheit“ (S. 29). Die Verwirklichung des Ich ist an seine Öffnung zur Welt gebunden (S. 31). Es soll aber zugleich immer frei sein, vor allem dann, wenn es an die Welt gebunden ist: „das wird (erreicht, K.M.) durch das freie Bilden eines Begriffes, seines Zweckbegriffes, der sein Wollen ausdrückt und seine Wirksamkeit auf die Objekte leitet. Durch diesen Gegensatz und dieses praktische Ringen, durch die Wechselwirkung mit einer sinnlichen Welt, wird erst das Ich seiner selbst bewußt, und kann es sich wahrnehmen“ (S. 31). Die letzte Grundidee, durch welche Rosales den Geschlossenen Handelsstaat zu analysieren versucht, ist der Begriff des Eigentums. Die Verbindung zum Gesellschaftsvertrag sieht er in der Aufgabe der Sicherung der Freiheit eines Individuums durch den Gesellschaftsvertrag. Wenn man jemandem das Recht auf Eigentum abspricht, wird ihm gleichzeitig auch seine Freiheit abgesprochen. Die Realisierung der Freiheit benötigt einen Platz oder ein Eigentum in der Welt, in der man lebt (S. 34). Was aber Fichte unter Eigentum versteht, wird in den kommenden Beiträgen näher dargestellt.

hoffmann (hrsg.), fichtes geschlossener handelsstaat

461

2.1

Erfahrungen und Theorien wirtschaftlichen Handelns um 1800 in Deutschland oder die Abwesenheit „marktwirtschaftlicher“ Begrifflichkeit ( Jürgen Stahl) Jürgen Stahl unternimmt in seinem Beitrag einerseits den Versuch, den Fichteschen Text in seinem historischen Kontext einzuordnen und hebt Ereignisse und persönliche Erfahrungen des Philosophen, die seine Ideen möglicherweise geprägt haben könnten, hervor. Andererseits weist er auf die Schwierigkeiten hin, den Text mit heutigen Begrifflichkeiten verstehen zu wollen (S. 43). Stahl interpretiert Fichtes politische Gedanken, so wie sie im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat dargestellt werden, als einen Versuch, eine neue Ordnung zu erschaffen. Die Absicht etwas Neues zu schaffen, bedeutet in der Regel auch Kritik an der bestehenden Ordnung, welche Stahl als Kritik an „der ständisch strukturierten, spätabsolutistischen Ordnung in deutschen Landen“ deutet (S. 53). Wir dürfen nicht vergessen, und dies wird in diesem Beitrag von Stahl sehr deutlich hervorgehoben, dass die Rede hier von einem Zeitalter ist, in welchem die politischen Entscheidungen noch von den Landesherren getroffen werden, für die „Luxus und kriegerischen Machtgerangel“ größere Bedeutung besitzen als der einzelne Bürger (S. 53). Diesen Zustand empfand Fichte als unvernünftig und ungerecht und genau diese Ungerechtigkeit schien er bekämpfen zu wollen. Er forderte, dass die Arbeit und die materiellen Ressourcen als Mitteln zur Selbstentwicklung jedes einzelnen betrachtet werden müssten und nicht dem oben erwähnten „Luxus“ der Landesherren dienten. Laut Stahl lässt sich Fichtes Hauptanliegen darin erkennen, dass die Vernunft die Gesellschaft durchdringen und demnach aus dem realen Staat (auch) ein Vernunftstaat werden solle (S. 53). 2.2

Freiheit und Vollkommenheit. Fichtes Position in den Kontroversen über Begründung und Begrenzung von staatlichem Handeln (Douglas Moggach) Douglas Moggach untersucht in seinem Beitrag Fichtes Staatsmodell. Er beschäftigt sich vor allem mit der Frage, ob Fichte sich näher zu den Ideen der Schule von Christian Wolff positioniert sieht – der „eine aktive politische Gestaltung wirtschaftlicher Aktivität mit dem Ziel von Vervollkommnung und Glückseligkeit“ propagiert (aufgeklärter Absolutismus) – oder sich eher näher zu Immanuel Kants Auffassung der Spontaneität Leibniz’ befindet. Spontaneität wird hier „als das Recht, Kausalität in der äußeren Welt auszuüben“ verstanden (S. 78). Der Staat in Wolffs Verständnis der Vervollkommnung soll durch aktive Interventionen dazu beitragen, dass jeder einzelne seine individuellen Fähig-

462

masmanidis

keiten entwickelt, die dann zur Glückseligkeit führen sollen. Wolff geht davon aus, dass die Menschen nicht von sich aus in der Lage sind, „das Höchstmaß an physischer, intellektueller und geistiger Entwicklung zu erreichen“ (S. 82). Wolffs konsequentialistische Art politischen Denkens blockiert allerdings die Entwicklung eines Rechtsbegriffs, denn die Berufung auf Glückseligkeit wird als gewichtiger im Vergleich zum Recht betrachtet (S. 85). Kant dagegen kritisiert diese Art von Vormundschaftsstaat, sie ließe sich kaum von einem despotischen Staat unterscheiden. Für ihn ist es illegitim, den Bürgern die Zwecke und Mittel zur eigenen Glückseligkeit vorzuschreiben (S. 86). Seine Antwort darauf ist ein Staat, der sich auf Recht gründet und Freiheit anstatt Vervollkommnung als das leitende Prinzip erkennt. Kant versteht nämlich Spontaneität als Freiheit und Freiheit im Sinne eines Willens, der an keine fremden Ursachen gebunden sein sollte (S. 88). Moggach ist davon überzeugt, dass Fichte den Kantischen Ideen folgt, weil die Interventionen, die er für den Staat vorsieht, im Wesentlichen der Förderung der Freiheit dienen (S. 78). Das Recht bei Kant erlangt nach Moggach einen kategorialen Status. Der Staat sollte nicht bestimmen können, wie jedes Individuum seine Glückseligkeit erlangen kann, indessen sollte er aber in der Lage sein, die Freiheitssphäre jedes Einzelnen zu beschützen (S. 89). Ziel des Staates kann demnach nicht eine Glückseligkeit sein, die von außen bestimmt ist, sondern eher die Befähigung zum gemeinschaftlichen Leben (S. 91). Moggach betrachtet als grundsätzliche Aufgabe des Fichteschen Staates die Sicherung des Rechts auf Arbeit bzw. des Rechts Kausalität in der materiellen Welt auszuüben (S. 94). Arbeit muss hier allerdings als Ausdruck von Spontaneität bzw. reiner praktischer Vernunft verstanden werden (S. 94). Hier verortet Moggach die Verbindung der Freiheit mit der Arbeit. 2.3

Ideen zu einer spekulativen Politik. Aus der Einleitung und dem Ersten Buch („Philosophie“) = des Fichteschen Geschlossenen Handelsstaates (Marco Ivaldo) Marco Ivaldo untersucht in seinem Beitrag die Einleitung und das erste von den drei Büchern des Geschlossenen Handelsstaates. Er erkennt im Fichteschen Ansatz die Aufforderung über Politik und Wirtschaft tiefer nachzudenken. Das bedeutet allerdings nicht, dass er den praktischen Teil, d. h. den ausführenden Teil als sekundär betrachtet. Im Gegenteil ist er fest davon überzeugt, dass jegliche Veränderung in der Politik und in der Gesellschaft nur in Bezug auf eine philosophisch-begriffliche Ideenentwicklung basieren kann (S. 105). Ivaldo betont, der Fichtesche Ansatz könne auch heutzutage zum Nachdenken animieren, jedoch nur dann, wenn man sich mit den Grundsätzen des Geschlossenen Handelsstaates als Prinzipien einer spekulativen Politik ausein-

hoffmann (hrsg.), fichtes geschlossener handelsstaat

463

andersetzt, und nicht mit der faktisch-technischen Bedeutung, die man sicherlich nicht mehr als zeitgemäß bezeichnen kann (S. 105). Welches Verständnis von Politik befürwortet Fichte? Er versteht die Politik als eine Instanz, die zwischen Philosophie und Geschichte vermittelt. Sie soll die Kluft zwischen Theorie und Praxis bzw. zwischen reiner Wissenschaft und „bloßer Erfahrung“ schließen (S. 107). Der Geschlossene Handelsstaat bewegt sich nach Ivaldo zwischen zwei Polen, dem der reinen Rechtslehre und dem des geschichtlichen Zustands, d.h. zwischen dem ideellen und dem faktischen Zustand. Im Letzten realisiert sich der wirkliche Staat, der nicht nach Begriffen und Kunst sondern vielmehr durch das Ohngefähr entstanden ist (S. 110). Und genau hier ist die Aufgabe der Politik zu verorten: Die Politik als Wissenschaft der Anwendung soll dazu beitragen, einen wirklichen Staat in einen Vernunftstaat umzugestalten (S. 111.) Ivaldo bespricht weiter in seinem Aufsatz das Verhältnis von Recht und Staat. Nur im Staat kann das Recht seine Geltung erhalten2. Staat bedeutet in diesem Zusammenhang Rechtszustand, er ist die Wirklichkeit des angewandten Rechtsbegriffs (S. 113). Nur im Staat kann das Individuum sein subjektives Recht erhalten. Trotz der wichtigen Funktion, die Fichte dem Staat zuschreibt, muss betont werden, dass er nicht als Selbstzweck betrachtet werden darf. Der Staat soll sich, genauer gesagt, nachdem er das Rechtsverhältnis in der Gesellschaft hergestellt hat, selbst aufheben. Dem Staat kommt demnach eher eine instrumentelle Funktion zu, d.h. den Einzelnen zur sittlichen Vervollkommnung zu bringen. Er wird in erster Linie als Instrument zur Realisierung der moralischen Idee betrachtet (S. 114). Die Aufgabe des Staates besteht nach Fichte darin, jedem das Seinige zu geben d.h. jedem in seinem Eigentum einzusetzen, um dann erst dieses Eigentum zu schützen. Wie Ivaldo sehr treffend diese Stelle kommentiert, soll zunächst das Individuum durch den Staat in sein Recht eingesetzt werden und erst dann kann der Schutz dieses errichteten Rechtszustands erfolgen (S. 119). Der Eigentumsbegriff erlangt eine zentrale Bedeutung im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat, denn ohne ihn kann kein rechtliches Verhältnis zustande kommen. (S. 116). Was bedeutet Eigentum bei Fichte? Eigentum bedeutet Recht auf freie Handlungen und nicht Recht auf Objekte.3 Dieser Eigentumsbegriff spiegelt sich in Fichtes Vertragsverständnis wider. Der Grund warum sich die Menschen 2 Vgl. Masmanidis, Konstantinos: Fichtes Begriff der politischen Philosophie. Eine Untersuchung der späten politischen Werke im Lichte des Begriffspaares Bild-Bildung, Freiburg/München 2014, S. 173–180. 3 Vgl. ebd.

464

masmanidis

„vertragen“ sollten, liegt nämlich nicht in den Gegenständen, sondern in der freien Tätigkeit jedes Einzelnen.4 Erst durch diesen Vertrag entsteht das Recht auf eine bestimmte Handlungssphäre oder auf bestimmte Handlungsmöglichkeiten (S. 117). Damit aber überhaupt ein solcher Vertrag entstehen kann, ist die Präsenz des Staates vonnöten. Ein Vertrag, den zwei Bürger unterschreiben, wäre vor dem Eingriff eines Dritten, der diesen nicht unterschrieben hätte, nicht sicher. Erst durch den Staat bzw. durch seine vereinigende Macht, betont Ivaldo, kann das „rechtsbeständige Eigentum“ begründet werden (S. 117). 2.4

Der geschlossene Handelsstaat. Zweites Buch: Zeitgeschichte (Klaus Honrath) Klaus Honraths Absicht in seinem Beitrag ist, die Auffassung von Zeitgeschichte – wie Fichte sie im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat entwickelt – näher darzustellen. Honrath erkennt in der Fichteschen Argumentation keine Absicht des Philosophen, eine staatlich verfasste Marktwirtschaft herzustellen, sondern eher den Versuch der Verfassung eines Handelsstaates, der aus einem juridischen Staat bzw. aus Vernunftgründen entsteht. Seine These lautet: Man soll den Handelsstaat bei Fichte als Folge des Rechtsstaates wahrnehmen. Der Staat als „Ausdruck institutionalisierter Freiheit“ soll letztendlich die „Rahmenbedingungen des Wirtschaftens“ sichern (S. 128). Fichte kritisiert die Anschauung, die Freiheit der Märkte sei der Hauptrepräsentant der Freiheit der Menschen. Die Freiheit der Märkte, betont Honrath kritisch, müsste sogar als „permanenter Angriff auf die Rechtstaatlichkeit“ betrachtet werden (S. 129). Honrath macht in seinem Aufsatz die Idee der Selbstbeschränkung stark. Seine Interpretation lautet: So wie ein Individuum seine persönliche Freiheit selber beschränken muss, um seine Freiheit (soziale Freiheit im Sinne Honneths) im Staat zu erlangen, so müsste sich der Staat auch beim Wirtschaften verhalten (S. 129). Zusammenfassend könnte man sagen, und dies scheint mir hier Honraths Kernthese zu sein, dass sich Fichte vor allem gegen das Freiheitsverständnis wendet, das über den freien Markt (als äußeren Mechanismus) die persönliche Freiheit jedes Einzelnen bestimmen soll (S. 129). Fichte glaubt nicht an eine Selbstregulierung der Wirtschaft. Der Staat soll primär die Bedingungen des Wirtschaftens derart bestimmen, dass „die Freiheit der Menschen und er selbst als lebendiger Ausdruck ihres Gemeingeistes größtmögliche Entfaltung erfahren können“ (S. 131).

4 Vgl. ebd.

hoffmann (hrsg.), fichtes geschlossener handelsstaat

465

2.5

Von der Nationalökonomie zum ökonomischen Nationalismus. Fichtes Politikkonzeption im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat (Günter Zöller) Zöller bespricht in seinem Beitrag das dritte Buch des Geschlossenen Handelsstaates. Er bezeichnet, so wie Ivaldo auch, den Geschlossenen Handelsstaat in erster Linie nicht als ein ökonomisches Werk, sondern erkennt in Fichtes Absicht eher die ausführliche Darstellung der Philosophie des Rechts und ihre Anwendung „auf das Gebiet der philosophischen Theorie vom Leben in der staatsförmigen Gemeinschaft“ (S. 152). Zöller erfasst den Zweck des Geschlossenen Handelsstaates in seiner politischen Bedeutung und relativiert gleichzeitig die Bedeutung der wirtschaftstheoretischen Teile des Werks, welche er vordergründig als Mittel zum Politischen bzw. Staatlichen betrachtet (S. 152). Fichte integriert im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat das Ökonomische in das Politische, was Zöller dazu veranlasst, über eine „Politisierung der Ökonomie“ zu sprechen (S. 152). Was bedeutet Politik bei Fichte? Sie wird vielmehr als „Recht-in-Anwendung“ verstanden und demnach von der Ethik getrennt. Zöller geht weiterhin der Frage nach, in welcher Relation Recht und Politik stehen. Im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat wird der Übergang von Recht zur Politik als ein geschichtlicher Prozess verstanden, der den Vernunftstaat als (außerhistorisches) Ziel bestrebt und sukzessive im Verlauf der Geschichte erreichen soll (S. 155). Zöller betont, dass Fichte die Geschichte, vor allem die politische Geschichte (Verwirklichung vom Recht), als „wesentlich offen und insofern frei – allerdings nicht unverbindlich offen und beliebig frei, sondern offen für freie Gestaltung nach Maßgabe von rechtlich-politischer Vernunft“ wahrnimmt (S. 155). Nach Zöller basiert die Abschaffung des privaten und die Minimalisierung des staatlichen Außenhandels ausschließlich auf der philosophisch begründeten Politik Fichtes. „Diese gestaltet nämlich die geschichtliche Wirklichkeit mit den Mitteln des Rechts und im Rekurs auf die Vernunft“ (S. 156–157). 2.6

Der geschlossene Handelsstaat als Theorie der distributiven Gerechtigkeit mit Blick auf Fichtes Begriff der Politik (David James) David James liest den Geschlossenen Handelsstaat als den Versuch Fichtes, distributive Gerechtigkeit in Theorie und Praxis zu bestimmen (S. 169.) Bezogen auf den Politik-Begriff diagnostiziert James eine Schwäche der Fichteschen Konzeption, nämlich die, dass das Verhältnis von Politik und Gewalt nicht genügend, wenn überhaupt, berücksichtigt wird (S. 170). Distributive Gerechtigkeit bedeutet eine gerechte Verteilung von bestimmten Gütern. Wenn Fichte über Güterverteilung spricht, darf die Tatsache nicht

466

masmanidis

vergessen werden, dass er primär von gleicher Verteilung von Tätigkeiten (vgl. oben Ivaldo) – von welchen man leben kann – und sekundär von Gütern als Objekten spricht (S. 175). James betont außerdem noch, dass die Schließung der Handelsbeziehungen eines Staates nach außen vor allem dem Zweck dienen soll, dass er in der Lage ist, das Wirtschaftsleben derart zu kontrollieren und zu regulieren, dass alle Bürger von ihrer Arbeit leben können (S. 175). Diese Abschließung nach außen beschränkt allerdings auch die Bedeutung der distributiven Gerechtigkeit (S. 176). Sie beeinflusst das Verständnis von Politik in der Hinsicht, dass Letztere als unvollständig erscheint, weil sie „die potentielle Gewalt herunterspielt“, vor allem bei der Anwendung der Prinzipien der distributiven Gerechtigkeit (S. 176). James’ Hauptthese liegt meines Erachtens in der Behauptung, dem Geschlossenen Handelsstaat fehle die Anerkennung der Verbindung zwischen Gewalt und Politik in Bezug auf die Anwendung der Prinzipien der Verteilungsgerechtigkeit (s. 183). 2.7

Wirtschaft als System? Fichtes rechtsphilosophische Alternative zu einem neuzeitlichen Dogma (Thomas Sören Hoffmann) Thomas Sören Hoffmann basiert seine Analyse – im letzten Beitrag des Sammelbandes – auf die Annahme, dass Fichte kein eigenständiges ökonomisches System (als „autopoietisches System“) in seinem philosophischen Konzept vorgesehen hat (S. 186). Den Grund dafür sieht Hoffmann vornehmlich in der Tatsache, dass Fichte die ökonomischen Ideen und das Wirtschaften aus der Rechtsidee abzuleiten versucht (und nicht aus der Sittenlehre). Das Recht spielt in Fichtes politischen Werken eine zentrale Rolle. Vor allem wird im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat das Primat des Rechts gegenüber der Ökonomie sehr deutlich. Aus diesem Primat des Rechts entsteht die politische Aufgabe, die „Rechtsförmigkeit auf das Wirtschaftshandeln zu applizieren“ bzw. der Ökonomie das Auge des Rechts einzusetzen (S. 186–187). Denn das Recht soll die äußere Interaktion freier Individuen gewähren und sich gegenüber der Eigendynamik der Ökonomie durchsetzen. Hoffmann erkennt im Fichteschen Ansatz demnach den Versuch einer Domestizierung der ökomischen Eigendynamiken und Kontingenzen. Er betont, dass die Freiheit des Einzelnen nicht auf die Eigendynamik der Ökonomie basieren sollte und auch nicht abhängig von ihr werden dürfte (S. 188). Hoffmann spricht hier von einem Exorzismus der Kontingenz als Hauptziel des Geschlossenen Handelsstaates. Die (praktische) Vernunft sollte über den Zufall herrschen, denn nur in der Vernunft können die Freiheit und die Selbständigkeit des Individuums bewahrt werden (S. 191).

hoffmann (hrsg.), fichtes geschlossener handelsstaat

467

Hoffmann interpretiert letztlich die Philosophie Fichtes im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat als einen Versuch „der Freiheit und dem Subjekt soviel Raum wie irgend möglich zu verschaffen“ (S. 190).

3

Fazit

Den von Thomas Sören Hoffmann publizierten Sammelband, betrachte ich, um Marco Ivaldos Worte zu paraphrasieren, als eine Aufforderung durch den Fichteschen Ansatz über Philosophie und vor allem politische Philosophie tiefer nachzudenken. Die Kernaussage des vorliegenden Bandes scheint mir die Idee der Verwirklichung der Freiheit zu sein. Fichtes Grundabsicht liegt darin, die Bedingungen der Möglichkeit dieser Verwirklichung zu bestimmen. Freiheit kann, so Fichte, nur in einem Staat verwirklicht werden. Der Staat wird in diesem Kontext als Rechtsstaat verstanden. Auch dem Rechtsbegriff wird im Sammelband eine wichtige Rolle zugeschrieben. Fichte fordert von der Politik den realen Staat in einen Vernunftstaat umzuwandeln. Was bedeutet Vernunftstaat? Es bedeutet einen Staat, der auf Rechtsverhältnissen basiert. Denn nur Rechtsverhältnisse können zur Freiheit führen. In einem so eingerichteten Staat soll das Eigentum (im Fichteschen Sinne), also die freie Tätigkeit jedes Einzelnen, geschützt werden, das bedeutet jeder soll erst in diesem vom Staat eingesetzt werden. Die Aufgabe des Staates soll schließlich darin bestehen, das Recht in der materialen Welt zu schützen. Im Geschlossenen Handelsstaat geht es vordergründig nicht um Fichtes konkrete Vorschläge für die Wirtschaft, die sicherlich als unzeitgemäß charakterisiert werden können, sondern und vor allem um Freiheit. Fichtes Absicht, um Hoffmanns Worte zu verwenden, die Eigendynamik der Ökonomie zu bestimmen, ist letztendlich nichts Anderes als der Versuch, der Freiheit mehr Spielraum zu verschaffen. Konstantinos Masmanidis

Index absolute I xii, xviii, 86, 90–98, 103, 106–115, 139–145, 150–156, 315–316, 320–322, 413 Achelis, Heinrich Nikolaus 20, 22 Adorno, Theodor 342 aesthetics x, xiv, xv, 219–247 aesthetic state of mind 233 Anstoß (check) 90, 98, 413, 442 Aristotle 63–64, 148, 162, 391 Bardili, C.G. 62, 153–155 beauty, the beautiful 238, 243–244 artistic beauty and natural beauty 240 personal beauty 245 the beautiful soul 246 Böttiger, Karl August xi

238,

Cassirer, Ernst 335, 336, 345 categorical hypotheticity 79, 82–85, 88–89, 92–93 categorical imperative 22, 80, 261, 262, 274 categories x, 34, 48, 63, 64, 90, 107, 119–136, 157, 163, 166, 177–178, 182–189, 200, 270, 290, 305, 306, 334, 338–339, 343, 448, 450, 451 deduction of 40, 119–136, 157, 166, 177– 178, 182–189, 290, 338–339 Christianity 5, 11, 12, 14–20, 22, 26–29, 423 contradiction x, xii–xiii, 12–17, 27, 29, 32– 57, 63, 67, 71–72, 106–114, 167, 178, 200, 228–229, 239–247, 268, 323, 417–420, 430 non-contradiction, principle of 51, 67, 162–164 Crusius, Christian August 12, 16, 19, 28 Deism 3, 5, 12, 14–29 Descartes, Cartesian xi, 63, 90, 91, 140, 162– 163, 175, 395, 411–412 determinism 4, 9, 10, 443 difference 94–116, 144, 151–152 dogmatism 3, 4, 7, 19, 25, 177, 179, 202, 206, 334 drive (Trieb) 234–242, 275–287, 299, 364, 442 ethical drive (sittlicher Trieb) 281 natural drive (Naturtrieb) 268, 275

original drive (ursprünglicher Trieb) 279 original drive (Urtrieb) 239, 275, 279–281 theory of drives (Trieblehre) 360 truth drive (Wahrheitstrieb) 383 ethics x, xiv, xv, 105, 153, 194, 220, 221, 230, 235, 239, 249, 258, 261, 266, 267–287 facticity 111, 177–183, 187, 189–195 Fichte, Eduard xi Fichte, I.H. 5, 7, 8, 9 Fichte, J.G. passim Aenesidemus Recension xiii, 32–37, 42, 59–75, 98, 100–102, 164–167, 174, 186, 270 Anweisung zum seligen Leben xi, xv, xvii, 135, 181, 182, 187, 188, 380, 386–389, 418, 437 Aphorisms on Religion and Deism 3–30 Bardilli Recension 153–154 Bestimmung des Gelehrten (1794) 204, 359, 361, 362 Bestimmung des Menschen 194, 214, 215, 358, 362, 366 Eigne Meditationen 22, 32–56, 68, 73–75, 94, 98, 100, 102, 105–108, 111, 115, 145– 146, 343 Erste Einleitung 4, 116, 129, 314 Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre passim Grundlage des Naturrechts xvii, 133, 153, 248–266, 489 Grundriss des Eigentümlichen der Wissenschaftslehre xiv, 120, 371 Grundzüge des gegenwärtigen Zeitalters 286, 290, 296–305, 383, 390 Sittenlehre xvii, 152, 153, 231, 235, 267– 287, 466 Transzendentale Logik 1 (1812) 36, 120, 183, 347, 348, 445–458 Über das Wesen des Gelehrten (1806) 353, 354–375, 377–392 Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre x, xiv, xv, xvii, 33, 35, 45–53, 92, 146– 149, 151, 154, 165, 167, 172–173, 220, 222, 229, 310, 312, 325

470

index

Über Geist und Buchstab in der Philosophie 219–226, 230–247, 353–375, 443 Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo xv, 32, 42, 56, 116, 131, 144, 154–156, 182, 186, 220, 222, 268, 413, 442, 459 Wissenschaftslehre 1801/02 83, 93, 181, 430 Wissenschaftslehre 1804-ii 79–85, 89, 92–93, 125, 179, 187–189, 198–200, 203– 206, 211, 347, 389, 391, 416, 417–421, 429–442 Wissenschaftslehre 1805 x, 179, 198–216, 378 Wissenschaftslehre 1812 122, 125, 126, 347–348 Züricher Vorlesungen 35, 40, 45–53, 86, 102, 147–151, 343 Zweite Einleitung xi, xvi, 23, 81, 122–131, 135, 154, 183, 185, 272, 320, 326 Fiedler, Karl Gottlob 12, 16–18, 28

171–175, 181, 184, 200–209, 272–280, 286–287, 394–400, 406, 409, 413 imagination (Einbildungskraft) xix, 120, 123, 134, 219–247, 283, 292, 344, 441–444 hovering (Schweben) 219–247 imagination as a “hidden art” 225 imagination as the “most marvellous” power of the I 224–229 imaginative monogram 219–247 productive or creative imagination (produktive or schaffende Einbildungskraft) xix, 219–247, 283, 441–444 reproductive imagination (reproduktive Einbildungskraft) 235, 456 intellectual intuition xii, 23, 24, 33, 41, 46, 56, 73, 81, 152, 177, 180, 181–188, 193, 200, 411–412

genesis 80–81, 177–180, 190, 193, 309, 311, 444, 453–454 Giacometti, Alberto 81 God xiv, 6, 13–21, 26–29, 92, 123, 146, 148, 167, 170, 295, 378, 423, 434–435 Goethe, J.W. 8, 237, 241, 367 grace 244–245 Gruner, C.G. 357

Kant, Kantianism xi, 3, 18–25, 28, 31–33, 36, 39–40, 46–49, 60–72, 80–84, 90–91, 96, 119–137, 140–141, 144–148, 155–157, 163–165, 167, 169–170, 177–180, 182–190, 219–227, 231–233, 236–244, 247, 261, 267–272, 282–284, 288–298, 302–308, 333–349, 381, 386, 394–397, 406–412, 441, 451–452, 457, 461–462

Hamann, J.G. 120 Hegel, G.W. 115, 179, 220, 304, 308, 334, 337, 342, 349, 442 Heidegger, M. 177–182, 193–195, 395, 400 Henrich, Dieter 98, 100, 105, 139–157, 319– 320, 394–413 Henry, Michel 416–437 Herder, J.G. 8, 288–295, 302–303, 308 history x, xv, 179, 188, 288–308, 333, 396, 441 pragmatic 200, 232, 309, 310 Hölderlin, Friedrich 108, 142–144, 152–153, 174 Hommel, Karl Ferdinand 9–15 Hume, David 145, 342 hypotheticity 79, 82–85, 88–89, 92–93

Lavater, J.K. 102 Leibniz, G.W. 10, 140, 161–163, 166–167, 175, 395, 461 Lessing, G.E. 8, 10 letter (Buchstabe) 219–247, 353–375

identity (principle of) 37–38, 43–45, 47–55, 61, 69–75, 82–84, 86–91, 94–99, 102– 116, 132–133, 141–142, 145–156, 161–165,

Jacobi 8, 17, 184–185, 215, 342, 457 Jesus 17, 18, 26–28

magic 237, 242–245 Magic Flute (Mozart’s opera) 241–242 Maimon, Salomon 36, 67, 163, 165, 178, 227, 270, 334, 342 Michelangelo 81 monogram 219–227, 233–240, 246–247 Mozart, W.A. 236, 241–247 music, musical 234–235, 240–243, 246 nature x, xi, xv, 201, 221, 224, 228, 236–247, 255, 267–268, 271–272, 275–276, 279, 280–287, 292–295, 297–298, 303–308, 310, 313, 315, 317–329, 344, 378, 379

471

index Niethammer, F.I. 96, 108, 185 nightingale 236–246 Nohl, Hermann 9–11 Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg) 223, 334 Platner, Ernst 10, 62, 174, 223, 269, 371 pleasant, the 29, 229–246 positing (setzen) passim Preul, Rainer 7, 9, 10, 16, 18 Queen of the Night (Mozart’s Magic Flute) 241–247 Rahn, Johanna Marie 20 recognition 248, 256, 258, 263–265, 417 Rehberg, A.W. 267–272, 287 Reinhold, K.L. 32–37, 43–46, 59–75, 90–91, 94–100, 107, 111, 116–117, 120, 128, 130– 132, 135, 147, 155, 163–164, 167, 169, 178, 269, 286, 342, 343, 367, 369 religion xi, xv, xvii, xviii, 3–30, 181, 213, 220, 302, 305, 390, 423–425, 430, 437, 459 right, doctrine of x, xiv, xv, 129, 133–136, 152, 199, 220, 248–266, 282, 386, 445, 459– 467 Schelling, F.W.J. 96, 115, 117, 186, 200–205, 207, 213–214, 220, 334, 337, 377–382, 388, 392, 442, 457–458 Schiller, Friedrich 237, 243–247, 355, 357, 373–374 Schlegel, Friedrich 149, 223, 334 Schulz, Johann Friedrich xi, 354 Schulze, G.E. 32–34, 59–61, 67–69, 98, 99, 100, 164, 186, 269, 270, 343 Smidt, Johann 361–363, 367–368, 370–372

Spinoza, Spinozism 8, 9, 17, 20, 90, 92, 184– 185, 187, 194, 207 spirit (Geist) xiii, 221, 231, 233–235, 239, 353–375, 384, 441–442, 452 Steffens, Henrik xi Stephani, Heinrich xi striving (Streben) x, 98, 109–111, 194, 234, 239, 271, 274, 276, 281, 286, 318, 324–325, 442 sublime 24, 229–230, 241, 245 sufficient reason, principle of 4, 6, 11, 16, 22, 37 summons 248–266, 327 sweet songstress of the night (die liebliche Sängerin der Nacht) 219, 221–222, 233– 247 synthesis xiii, xix, 93, 106, 123, 124, 125, 156, 157, 226–232, 234–236, 240, 245, 247, 251, 289, 318, 407, 409, 431, 434, 437, 447, 449–450, 453–455 Tathandlung (act) xviii, 46, 50, 74, 80–81, 84–86, 121, 126, 128–135, 142, 152, 200, 208–210, 394, 396, 399, 406–410, 412 Tatsache (fact) 50, 64, 74, 81, 84, 171, 208 triad aesthetic triad 229–236 triadic structure 446 Tugendhat, Ernst 395–406, 410 Venus 243–244 Wildfeuer, Armin 9, 10, 11, 12 Wittgenstein, Ludwig 400–404 Wolff, Christian 63, 163, 461–462