Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit 0192889753, 9780192889751

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Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit S A L LY SE D G W IC K

Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP, United Kingdom Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries © Sally Sedgwick 2023 The moral rights of the author have been asserted All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Control Number: 2022946816 ISBN 978–0–19–288975–1 DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.001.0001 Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials contained in any third party website referenced in this work.

In memoriam Graham Bird Axel Kopido Amélie Oksenberg Rorty Judith Jarvis Thomson

Contents Acknowledgements Abbreviations

ix xi

Introduction1 1. History and Human Finitude: Kant versus Hegel 1.1 Kant on World History and Finitude: Introduction 1.2 Principal Theses of Kant’s “Idea for a Universal History” 1.3 Comparing Kant and Hegel on World History: Points of Intersection 1.4 Hegel versus Kant on World History

18 20 23 35 39

2. Hegel’s “Philosophic” Approach to World History 45 2.1 Three Methods for Considering History: Original, Reflective, Philosophic47 2.2 Resolving the Contradiction Between Original and Reflective History 58 2.3 Our a priori Idea of History must Submit to the Test of History 65 3. Necessity in Hegel’s Philosophy of History 3.1 The Necessity of History: Three Initial Interpretations 3.2 History’s Necessity: Further Precision 3.3 External versus Internal Purposes 3.4 On the Subjectivity and Resulting Externality of Kantian Purposes 3.5 Conclusion: The Idea of Freedom Gives History Its Necessity

67 69 73 89 93 95

4. Hegel’s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom 4.1 Ancient versus Modern Conceptions of Necessity 4.2 Reconciling Ourselves to Necessity: Three Interpretative Proposals 4.3 Conclusion

101 108 113

5. Freedom’s Necessary Limits 5.1 Human Freedom: In but not Reducible to Nature 5.2 Freedom: Achieved versus Given 5.3 Generating Freedom’s Content 5.4 Contingency in the Course of Human History 5.5 Conclusion

117 118 124 128 132 137

98

6. Thought’s Temporality 139 6.1 Preliminary Evidence of Hegel’s Commitment to Thought’s Temporality143 6.2 The Knowability Thesis 151

viii Contents 6.3 Hegel’s “Philosophic” Method Revisited 6.4 The Realizability Thesis: The Actuality of the Rational and the Rationality of the Actual 6.5 Conclusion: A “Rose in the Cross of the Present”

158 161 166

7. Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit 7.1 Roles for Permanence in Hegel’s System 7.2 Further Roles for Permanence 7.3 Philosophy’s Debt to Its History

169 171 174 178

Works Cited Index

183 191

Acknowledgements This book has been about a decade in the making, and I have accumulated many debts along the way. I began turning my attention to the philosophy of history during a research leave in 2011–2012 as a Humanities Institute Fellow at the University of Illinois at Chicago. In the first half of 2015, I had the good fortune to spend a semester at the Freie Universität of Berlin, thanks to the Fulbright Scholar Research program. I enjoyed a further research leave at the Freie Universität in the spring of 2017, supported by the generosity of the Alexander von Humboldt-­ Stiftung and my hosts Professors Georg Bertram and Dina Emundts. In Chicago, I benefitted from conversations especially with Mark Alznauer, Karl Ameriks, Elizabeth Millán Brusslan, Nicolás García Mills (who gave me extensive comments on Chapter 5), and Rachel Zuckert. Over the years, my thinking about the subject matter of this book has been enriched as well by conversations with further friends and colleagues, including Giulia Battistoni, Willem deVries, Thomas Khurana, Daniel Feige, Rolf-­Peter Horstmann, Stephen Houlgate, Claus Langbehn, Francesca Menegoni, Dean Moyar, Angelica Nuzzo, Julia Peters, Terry Pinkard, Paul Redding, Michael Rosen, Birgit Sandkaulen, and Allen Speight. I am also indebted to the two anonymous reviewers for Oxford University Press whose suggestions guided me in making improvements to the manuscript. I owe thanks to my editor, Peter Momtchiloff, for his professionalism and encouragement. Finally, I wish to express my love and gratitude to my two most constant personal sources of support, Peter Hylton and Robert Sedgwick. Earlier versions of some of my discussions have appeared elsewhere. Chapter 2 draws heavily from my paper, “Philosophy of History”, Oxford Handbook on 19th Century German Philosophy, eds Michael Forster and Kirstin Gjesdal (Oxford University Press, 2015), 436–452. Material of Chapter 3, section 3.2, appears in my papers, “Two Kantian Arguments for the Speculative Basis of our Science of Nature”, in Ethics and Religion between German Classical Philosophy and Contemporary Thought, eds Luca Illeterati and Michael Quante (Padova University Press, 2020), 39–57, and in “Remarks on History, Contingency and Necessity in Hegel’s Logic”, in Hegel on Philosophy in History, eds Rachel Zuckert and James Kreines (Cambridge University Press, 2017), 33–49. Sections  3.3 and  3.4 of Chapter  3 draw from my paper, “Innere versus äußere Zweckmäßigkeit in Hegels Philosophie der Geschichte”, Hegel-­Studien 51 (2017): 11–28. Material from my paper, “Reconciling Ourselves to the Contingency that is a Moment of Actuality: Hegel on Freedom’s Transformative Nature”, makes its way into Chapter 4, section 4.1. In Wirklichkeit: Beiträge zu einem Schlüsselbegriff der Hegelschen Philosophie, eds Luca Illetterati and

x Acknowledgements Francesca Menegoni (Frankfurt: Vittorio Klostermann Verlag, 2018), 249–261. Finally, Chapter 5 draws from three papers: “On Becoming Ethical: The Emergence of Freedom in Hegel’s Philosophy of Right”, in The Freedom of Life: Hegelian Perspectives, ed. Thomas Khurana (Berlin: Der Verlag der Buchhandlung Walter König, 2012), 209–227. Published in German as, “Die Emergenz des sittlichen Charakters in Hegels Philosophie des Rechts”, Akten des Hegel-­Kongress Stuttgart 2011, Veröffentlichungen der Internationalen Hegel-­ Vereinigung, Bd. 25, eds Gunnar Hindrichs and Axel Honneth (Frankfurt: Vittorio Klostermann Verlag 2013), 513–527; “Our All-­Too-­Human Hegelian Agency”, Palgrave Handbook of German Idealism, ed. Matthew  C.  Altman (Palgrave-­Macmillan, 2014), 648–664; “Hegel’s Encyclopedia as a Science of Freedom”, Cambridge Critical Guide to Hegel’s Encyclopedia of the Philosophical Sciences, ed. Sebastian Stein and Joshua Wretzel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021), 28–45. I thank the publishers of these works for their permission to reproduce the above-­mentioned material.

Abbreviations In the body of this work and in footnotes, I provide page references first to English and then to German editions of primary texts, and separate pages of the two editions with an oblique (/). Below, are the abbreviations I use for works of Kant and Hegel that I cite most frequently. I list the English translations I most often consult (and occasionally modify).

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel Although I have consulted Hegel’s Gesammelte Werke, ed. Rheinisch-­Westfälische Akademie der Wissenschaften (Hamburg: Meiner, 1968– ), my references to Hegel’s works in German are to the Werke in zwanzig Bänden, eds Eva Moldenhauer and Karl Markus Michel (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1969–1970). I have chosen to cite the Suhrkamp edition because it is the edition my readers are most likely to have at hand. Aesth I Hegel’s Aesthetics: Lectures on Fine Art, vol. I, trans. T.  M.  Knox (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975). Vorlesung über die Ästhetik I. In Werke vol. 13. EL The Encyclopaedia Logic, trans. T. F. Geraets, W. A. Suchting, and H. S. Harris (Indianapolis and Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. 1991). This is a translation of the third edition of Hegel’s Enzyklopädie (the Philosophische Bibliothek edition of 1830, an expanded version of his first edition published in 1817). Georg Friedrich Wilhelm Hegel: Encyclopedia of the Philosophical Sciences in Basic Outline: Part I, Science of Logic, trans. Klaus Brinkman and Daniel O. Dahlstrom (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015). Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften im Grundrissen (1830), erster Teil: Die Wissenschaft der Logik. In Werke vol. 8. EG Hegel’s Philosophy of Mind, Part Three of the Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences (1830), trans. William Wallace (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971). Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften im Grundrissen (1830), dritter Teil: die Philosophie des Geistes. In Werke vol. 10. PH Introduction to the Philosophy of History, trans. Leo Rauch (Indianapolis and Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1988). Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Geschichte. In Werke vol. 12. PhG Phenomenology of Spirit, ed. and trans. Terry Pinkard (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018). Phänomenologie des Geistes. In Werke vol. 3. PR Elements of the Philosophy of Right, trans. H.  B.  Nisbet, ed. Allen Wood (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991).

xii Abbreviations

SL WL I WL II Theol.

Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts oder Naturrecht und Staatswissenschaft im Grundrisse. In Werke vol. 7. Science of Logic, trans. A.  V.  Miller (Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press International, Inc., 1991). Wissenschaft der Logik I. In Werke vol. 5. Wissenschaft der Logik II. In Werke vol. 6. Early Theological Writings: G.  W.  F.  Hegel, trans. T.  M.  Knox (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1981). Frühe Schriften. In Werke vol. 1.

Immanuel Kant References to Kant’s works in German are to the Akademie edition [“Ak”], Kants gesammelte Schriften, Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1900–1942). In the case of the Critique of Pure Reason, I provide the pagination of the “A” and “B” Akademie editions, respectively. CJ CPR

Idea

Critique of Judgment, trans. Werner Pluhar (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1987). Kritik der Urteilskraft. In Ak vol. 5. Critique of Pure Reason, trans. and eds Paul Guyer and Allen  W.  Wood (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). Kritik der reinen Vernunft. ‘A’ edition in Ak vol. 3; ‘B’ edition in Ak vol. 4. “Idea for a Universal History from a Cosmopolitan Point of View”, in On History: Immanuel Kant, trans. and ed. Lewis White Beck (Indianapolis: The Bobbs-­ Merrill Company, Inc., 1963), 11–26. AK vol. 8.

 

Introduction “Nothing in the past is lost [to philosophy] . . .” (G. W. F. Hegel, Lectures on the Philosophy of History) A conspicuous feature of Hegel’s major works is that they are developmental ­narratives. His narratives are moreover progressive: they invariably advance from less to more perfect, abstract to concrete, indeterminate or empty to determinate. In some of Hegel’s writings (for example, his lectures on aesthetics and on the history of philosophy), the developments quite obviously track stages of ‘real’ chronological progress, from one historical epoch to the next; they tie moments in the history of ideas to actual figures and events. There is development even when Hegel’s discussions seem barely connected to world history. Although his most abstract work, the Science of Logic, contains very few references to historical figures and hardly resembles what we would typically consider a history of logic, Hegel nonetheless describes its principal object, the “Concept [Begriff ]”, as unfolding in stages. The story has a beginning, middle, and end; it is unified by a certain plot. The Concept itself and our knowledge of it is presented as a series of transitions from abstract and empty to increasingly concrete or determinate. Hegel discovers development everywhere: in organisms, in our concepts, philosophical systems and assumptions, and in our freedom. It is safe to say that development in the form of transitions from lower to higher stages or moments is a key feature of his entire system. There appears to be a connection, too, between his interest in development and his commitment to the “dialectical” nature of “everything”, for dialectic seems to be what moves the various progressions along.1 Why is it so important for Hegel to structure his various philosophical works as developmental narratives? Is this simply a stylistic preference? Has he convinced himself that he is more likely to capture his readers’ attention if his discussions are written after the fashion of coming-­of-­age stories, or Bildungsromane? Is

1  “Everything around us can be considered an instance of the dialectical [Alles, was uns umgibt, kann als Beispiel des Dialektischen betrachtet werden]” (EL §81A1). Here, and frequently in this work, I quote from an “Addition [Zusatz]”, in this case Addition 1. The Additions to Hegel’s texts are compilations of student notes taken during his lectures; they should not be assumed to represent his words verbatim.

2  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit this how he hopes to ensure that even his dauntingly abstract Science of Logic will be a lively read? It might be thought that, especially in the case of Hegel’s most obviously historical works, the answer to these questions is relatively banal: he structures his discussions developmentally because he is a philosopher who takes a serious interest in history. He immerses himself in studies of the past, discovers differences in the thinking of his predecessors and contemporaries, and sets out to catalogue the vast variety in the history of ideas. This explanation becomes even more plausible if we add to it an acknowledgement of Hegel’s faith in progress. It then seems that we can account for his preoccupation with the past by noting his confidence that the present is an improvement. Whether the focus of his attention is religion, logic, or living organisms, his story is not one of mere change but of growth. He looks back and records development in order to reassure us that, despite the abundant conflict and suffering in our midst, the arc of history is bending towards justice. He aims to establish that there has been progress in our thinking, in our self-­consciousness and freedom. No doubt, Hegel was both keenly interested in history and convinced that it contains evidence of progress; but there is nonetheless more to say about why he crafted his major works as developmental stories. Although he defends the thesis that his own age is in significant respects an improvement over the past, his purpose in structuring his philosophical works as progressive narratives is  presumably not just to please or comfort us. His motivation is as much metaphysical as it is practical. That is, Hegel intends his developmental accounts to reveal something significant about who we are as thinking, willing natures. He wishes to demonstrate that, in a certain respect, our reason and freedom themselves have ‘lower’ and ‘higher’ forms. Expressed differently, he undertakes his study of past or ‘lower’ forms in order to establish how there have been advances in the nature of human thought or reason itself and in our resulting freedom. It is this metaphysical lesson that I am principally concerned to explore in the present work. If we assume, as I think we should, that Hegel is committed to the assumption that there is development in human reason itself, then questions such as the following arise: Is it his view that everything about human reason develops, including the features that distinguish it as a capacity from our other capacities? Or, does he rather hold that what develops is merely our idea of reason, or perhaps reason’s laws and concepts? And how does the development come about? Development cannot for Hegel be the product of mere chance, if by this we mean that there are no necessary connections among thoughts or events. If there are only accidental connections, then there is nothing by means of which we can discover a pattern or unifying idea; and without a pattern or unity, there can be nothing identifiable as development. There has to be a pattern, but how and out of what does the pattern emerge?

Introduction  3 Hegel sometimes conveys the impression that he is convinced not just that there is a pattern but that the pattern is set in advance. It is as if he takes the progressive unfolding of our thought and freedom to be predetermined, perhaps planned—­or at least as if planned—­by a sub specie aeternitatis or divine intelligence. After all, he frequently describes his developmental tales as unfolding with “necessity”.2 He refers to his philosophy of history as a “theodicy [Theodizee]”—a “justification of the ways of God”—and portrays world history as the “march of God in the world” (PH 16–18/26–33, 39/53; PR §258A). He compares the journey of Spirit to the growth of a plant whose properties are originally contained in a simple seed (PH 82/75; EL §161A). Spirit’s “first traces [ersten Spuren]”, he says, “virtually contain all history” (PH 21/31). There is a long tradition of interpreting Hegel in this way, that is, as committed to the thesis that the course of reason’s development is to a significant extent fixed in advance. Whether cast in theological or in secular terms, the basic idea is that the basic forms or concepts of Hegel’s Logic and philosophy of Spirit have a predetermined content, a content set by nature or pure reason or perhaps by a transcendent and all-­powerful cause (a “puppet-­master”, as Stephen Houlgate aptly terms it).3 On this reading, Hegel awards history no role in generating our most basic laws and concepts of reason or freedom. History is the theater in which the predetermined forms unfold. In some instances, history supplies the impetus for their activation or expression. This general line of interpretation motivates for example Karl Marx’s charge, in The German Ideology, that the Hegelian deploys presumably ready-­made ideas in its consideration of nature and human activity, and in this manner “descends from heaven to earth”.4 It underlies John Dewey’s remark, in The Quest for Certainty, that Hegel locates the human mind and its forms wholly outside ­history, “outside what is known”, and therefore clings to a “spectator” theory of knowledge.5 The assumption that Hegel considers the mind to have pre-­given and fixed concepts and laws is evident in contemporary readings as well. It shows up, for instance, as resistance to the suggestion that basic Hegelian concepts (such as Being and Essence) are empirical or changeable.6 It is responsible, too, for a certain skepticism about the thesis that Hegelian freedom, rather than an inborn 2 The “immanent development [inneren Gang] of Spirit”, Hegel asserts in his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, is “necessary [Notwendige]” (PH 28/41). 3 In Freedom, Truth and History: An Introduction to Hegel’s Philosophy (London: Routledge, 1991), 38. Frederick Beiser provides a useful overview (and critique) of such “Platonic” readings of Hegel in “Hegel’s Historicism”, in Cambridge Companion to Hegel, ed. F.  Beiser (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 276–278. 4  In Part I, section A. 5 In The Quest for Certainty (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1929), 23. 6  In “Hegel and Brandom on Norms, Concepts and Logical Categories”, Stephen Houlgate chastises Robert Brandom for ignoring the special status of certain Hegelian concepts, namely those that “constitute the implicit preconditions of the employment of empirical concepts”, 143. In German Idealism: Contemporary Perspectives, ed. E. Hammer (New York: Routledge, 2007), 137–152. Houlgate would

4  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit capacity responsible for unchangeable a priori laws, is an achievement that is highly dependent upon historical forces.7 As I hope to establish in this study, however, the necessity Hegel attributes to Spirit’s and reason’s development is not evidence that he endorses the assumption that our basic forms or concepts have a predetermined content, a content that is determinate enough to significantly fix in advance the course of world history. On my reading, Hegel argues instead that the advances are propelled forward by causal and/or conceptual interactions that obtain between our powers or faculties and the actual world in which they get expressed. Borrowing his vocabulary, we could describe this interaction as occurring between what is “rational [vernünftig]”, on the one side, and what is “actual [wirklich]”, on the other. What Hegel’s developmental narratives reveal is that even reason’s most abstract products—­the laws and concepts that appear maximally stable and unchangeable—­come into being in response to real events in human time, the time we measure by calendars and clocks. Although he frequently describes the advances as proceeding according to reason’s or Spirit’s “immanent” nature or principle, I will argue that this claim is consistent with his commitment to the thesis that this actual world, this realm of generation and destruction over which we possess only limited control, has a significant role to play in moving the progressions along. I can now provisionally formulate my central objective in this book. My aim is to specify the extent to which we can accurately attribute to Hegel the view that human reason and the freedom it affords us are indebted for their nature to this temporal order of nature and history. Hegel’s concern with our reason’s development conveys not just his fascination with the past but his interest in how reason responds to and is anchored in and shaped by its past. On the reading I defend, Hegelian reason has its basis not beyond but rather in our actual world; it is indebted to its past for what it essentially is. One of my main challenges will be to make this thesis precise. In a moment, I will expand on what I mean by the “nature” of reason and freedom, but I first want to mention a corollary to my central thesis. Although Hegel argues for the “necessity” of reason’s development, he also appreciates that much that happens in this actual world is outside our control. In his view, the necessity of the forward movement is compatible with forces that are in this respect accidental or contingent.8 As we will see, the compatibility Hegel sets out to defend therefore seem to be on the side of those who insist that certain concepts are for Hegel absolutely a priori. I assess the extent to which Houlgate is right about this in Chapter 6, section 2. 7 For a good recent example of this debate, see John McDowell’s critique of Robert Pippin’s “achievement” interpretation of Hegelian Spirit, in “Why Does it Matter to Hegel that Geist has a History?”, in Hegel on Philosophy in History, eds R. Zuckert and J. Kreines (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 18, 21. I return to this issue in section two of Chapter 5. 8  It is not the case, then, that Hegel is out to eliminate contingency entirely. In defending this position, I ally myself with, among others, John W. Burbridge, Hegel’s Systematic Congingency (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 190; Emil Fackenheim, Religious Dimension: “the entire Hegelian

Introduction  5 should not be understood as obtaining between two distinct forces (necessary and contingent) operating side by side, as if on parallel tracks. Rather, the forces are compatible because, although distinguishable, they are somehow intimately interconnected. As for the “nature” of Hegelian freedom and reason, I mean to refer, first, to their being as capacities. In the case of freedom, for example, I argue that Hegel describes our freedom as a faculty indebted to this actual world for its origin. Our freedom has emerged out of our ‘lower’ animal powers (such as feeling and instinct) and owes its properties to this developmental process. Human freedom, then, is for Hegel a natural (versus “noumenal”) power. Its features and functionality are produced in human time, and we can give an account (a history) of its emergence, as Hegel does especially in his anthropological reflections.9 This is one respect in which our freedom’s nature is indebted to what is actual, and I consider Hegel’s defense of this assumption in Chapter 5. By the “nature” of freedom and reason, however, I also mean to refer to the products of these powers. I argue in addition, then, that Hegel holds that the laws and concepts of our ­freedom and reason come to be as responses to the interactions of real, temporally located thinkers with events occurring in this actual world. His position is not just that laws and concepts of our freedom and reason show up in historically locatable institutions such as practical laws, systems of philosophy and religion, and the arts. He holds, in addition, that manifestations or expressions of reason and freedom rely for their very being on the engagements of real, temporally located thinkers and agents with nature and history. To convey the gist of the line of interpretation I will be defending, it may help to describe my project as that of exploring the implications, for Hegelian reason and freedom, of his one-­world ontology, or monism. Hegel nowhere denies that we take ourselves to be capable of imagining worlds other than or outside this philosophy, far from denying the contingent, . . . seeks to demonstrate its inescapability” (p. 4, see also p. 19); Dieter Henrich, “Hegels Theorie über den Zufall”, Kant-­Studien 50 (1958–1959): 131–148; Houlgate, Freedom, Truth and History, see especially, 18; Catherine Malabou, The Future of Hegel: Plasticity, Temporality and Dialectic, trans. L.  During (New York: Routledge, 2005); Terry Pinkard, Does History Make Sense? Hegel on the Historical Shapes of Justice (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 2017); see also Paul Redding, who characterizes Hegel’s system as “radically fallibilist”, in Analytic Philosophy and the Return of Hegelian Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 228f. 9  A moment ago, I characterized Hegel’s concern as “metaphysical”. My point in that context was that his developmental narratives serve not just practical ends but are intended to reveal something important about the very nature or being of reason and Spirit. My reading of Hegel nonetheless belongs among those typically classified as “non-metaphysical”. The “non-­metaphysical” reading assumes that Hegel’s system avoids reliance on a purportedly transcendent or extra-­temporal reason. Of course, this leaves open just how and to what extent Hegelian reason is of nature (or naturalized). Leaving that complication aside for now, the non-­metaphysical (or anti-­Platonic) reading has a long list of adherents, and much has recently been written about Hegel’s “naturalism” especially by those who read Hegel as much more of an Aristotelean than a Platonist. In this work, which foregrounds Hegel’s philosophy of history, I have been most influenced by the views of Emil Fackenheim, Stephen Houlgate, Walter Jaeschke, Joseph McCarney, and Terry Pinkard.

6  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit actual one. He grants that we can in a certain respect coherently articulate the idea, for instance, of a noumenal realm lurking behind this empirically accessible realm of phenomena. On the interpretation I defend, however, Hegel holds that even our thoughts of other possible worlds are rooted in and therefore beholden to this actual world. None of us is able to wholly transcend our time in thought. For this reason, none of us can generate an idea of a world beyond this one that is entirely adequate to its object. Strictly speaking, then, it is not possible for us to think about other possible worlds.10 As I just mentioned, my proposal that Hegelian reason and freedom are indebted to and anchored in this actual world should not be taken to imply simply that it is in this actual world that these capacities manifest or express themselves. I am making the more controversial suggestion that, in a certain respect, these faculties owe their nature to this actual world. This thesis is more difficult to clarify as well as defend. We can appreciate some of the difficulty if we bear in mind that the thesis cannot be reformulated as the suggestion that the nature and content of human reason cannot for Hegel be fully accounted for with reference to the physical forces governing nature and human behavior. On the interpretation I argue for here, reason emerges out of nature, on Hegel’s account, but it does not reduce to nature in the following respect: human reason is significantly distinguishable from our other natural powers and not a mere species of instinct. Human reason is anchored in nature, and in exercising it, we cannot completely abstract our way out of this actual world. Nonetheless, our reason sets us apart from other animal natures insofar as it endows us with special powers that they lack, namely the powers to reflect and abstract, powers responsible for our self-­ awareness and freedom. Not only does Hegel avoid a reductive naturalism of the kind I just sketched, he should also not be classified as a shallow historicist. For reasons I elaborate in Chapter 3, it is not his objective to persuade us that the products of our reason and freedom simply mirror the choices and preferences of temporally located agents, whatever those choices and preferences happen to be. Hegel insists that his histories of freedom and reason are more than mere records of actual preferences and opinions regarding what is good or true. He repeatedly tells us that, in

10  The Hegelian thesis that none of us can wholly transcend our time in thought provides the basis, I believe, for his critique of “empty formalism”. In charging that, for example, Kant’s supreme moral law or categorical imperative is an empty formalism, Hegel acknowledges Kant’s motivation for defending the law’s emptiness. Kant needs the law to be empty of content, because he seeks to establish its universal and necessarily validity. In fact, however, the law “presupposes content”, Hegel argues, because it rests on historically contingent assumptions about the nature of our freedom, assumptions he believes world history has progressed beyond. For Hegel, any effort to defend the “emptiness” of reason’s laws or concepts must fail precisely because human reason is in the world rather than beyond it. I defend this interpretation of Hegel’s empty formalism critique in, “Hegel on the Empty Formalism of Kant’s Categorical Imperative”, in A Companion to Hegel, eds S. Houlgate and M. Baur (Blackwell Publishing, 2012), 265–280.

Introduction  7 arguing for the rationality of the actual, he is not voicing his allegiance to ­“positive” accounts of the origin of our norms. Instead, he holds that there can be  independent rational standards for judging our philosophical systems and practical laws. To put this point differently, Hegel’s system preserves a certain dualism between “is” and “ought”. He insists that he can rationally justify his thesis that human freedom has been making progress in its journey through time.11 Among the many challenges we will face in this work is that of explaining just how Hegel can defend his commitment to independent rational standards. At this point, we can provisionally suggest that a judgment can qualify as genuinely independent, on his account, without deriving its authority from outside human history—­from a transcendent or God’s eye point of view. Hegel wishes to convince us that our power of thought affords us enough abstraction to yield standards for judging that are based on reasons rather than mere preferences.12 Independent rational standards are possible, but independence does not require total transcendence.

Structure and Argumentative Strategy This completes my summary of what I intend to argue in this book. Again, the general interpretative picture emphasizes the debt of Hegelian reason to what is. The basic idea is that, for all its power to shape and master reality, reason’s nature is also shaped by forces of nature and history, on Hegel’s account—­forces over which we have little or no control. As I read him, Hegel paves the way for the historical materialisms of Marx and others who call into question a certain conception of human reason’s autonomy, and ask us to appreciate the extent to which ideas are responsive to and anchored in material reality, whether real economic forces (Marx) or psychological drives (Nietzsche, Freud).13 Those familiar with the secondary literature will appreciate that I am far from alone in defending this general line of interpretation. Others have stressed the 11  An influential expression of the charge that Hegel was a positivist seeking to justify the reactionary Prussian practices of his time appeared already in 1857, in Rudolf Haym’s Hegel und seine Zeit. Similar charges made their way into the writings of prominent figures such as Marx and Engels, the late Schelling, Alexander Kojève, and Karl Popper. I return to the topic of Hegel’s alleged positivism in Chapter 3, but for a good summary of the charges that Hegel was a positivist and apologist for the status quo, see Jon Stewart’s “Hegel and the Myth of Reason”, in The Hegel Myths and Legends, ed. J.  Stewart (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1996), 306–318. Another useful resource is Shlomo Avineri’s now classic, Hegel’s Theory of the Modern State (Cambridge and New York, Cambridge University Press, 1972). 12  In Chapter 5, I say more about this distinction between preferences or desires and reasons, and suggest that Hegel considers the distinction to be one of degree than of kind. 13  Marx did not understand his historical materialism to be indebted to Hegel, but I believe this is because he misinterpreted Hegel. For a good overview of the Hegel/Marx relation, see Allen Wood’s “Hegel and Marxism”, in Cambridge Companion to Hegel, ed. F.  Beiser (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 414–444.

8  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit extent to which Hegelian reason is “in” rather than “beyond” this actual world, as a product rather than mere master of it; and some of their names appear at various points in my discussion, including in notes 8, 9, and 18 of this introductory chapter. If the present work makes a genuine contribution to Hegel scholarship, it will not be because my conclusions about Hegelian reason and freedom are radically new; it will instead be because of the particular way in which I support them. The strongest evidence in favor of my interpretation may be that it provides a powerful tool for making sense of other central Hegelian commitments. In particular, it allows us to explain not just Hegel’s unique conception of freedom, but also his views about the nature and limits of our knowledge as well as his in­sist­ ence upon the “rationality” of what is “actual”. I expand on each of these points below. The structure of my argument is as follows: My chapters divide into two parts. I begin with the less difficult and less controversial task of arguing for the way in which Hegelian freedom is temporally conditioned. Then, in my final two chapters, I expand that argument to defend the more ambitious claim that Hegel holds that all our thought is indebted to this actual realm as well. In addition, I specify some respects in which the temporally conditioned nature of thought is for Hegel consistent with its also enjoying a certain permanence. My discussion of Hegelian freedom begins with two chapters devoted to his philosophy of history. Hegel’s Lectures on the Philosophy of History is one work in which freedom is the focus of his attention. The very “substance [Substanz]” of world history, he says, is “Spirit [Geist]”, and Spirit’s “essence [Wesen]” is freedom (PH 19f./29f.). In the service of defending my thesis that Hegelian freedom is indebted to the realm of the actual for its nature, I compare features of Hegel’s philosophy of history with Kant’s. I use this comparison to identify the unique respect in which Hegel departs from Kant in assigning development, even contingency and temporality, to human reason itself.14 No doubt, some will regard my decision to foreground Hegel’s philosophy of history as inauspicious, given that that part of his system seems especially deserving of criticism. For reasons that others have abundantly laid out, a number of these criticisms are entirely warranted. After all, many of Hegel’s purportedly factual claims about world history are, at best, naïve or uniformed and, at worst, positively bigoted. I have in mind, for instance, his condescending portraits of the “childish” ways of Africans and Asians, and his hardly impartial preference for the “superiority” of the “Germanic peoples”.15 To these offenses, we can add Hegel’s at 14  For a powerful further defense of a developmental, dynamic nature of Hegelian reason, a reason indebted to nature, see Karen Ng’s recent, Hegel’s Concept of Life: Self-­Consciousness, Freedom, Logic (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020). 15  For two recent, balanced discussions of Hegel’s Eurocentrism and racism, see Chapter 3 of Terry Pinkard’s Does History Make Sense? Hegel on the Historical Shapes of Justice (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 2017), and McCarney’s Hegel on History (London: Routledge, 2000),

Introduction  9 least apparently problematic representation of the relation of the individual to the State, for he sometimes seems to imply that the triumph of Spirit requires what we might reasonably judge to be unacceptable sacrifices of individual freedom, sacrifices that deprive agents of self-­mastery and require acts of unreflective submission.16 There is cause for concern, then, about what appears to be Hegel’s disregard for individual rights as well as his tenuous grasp of historical facts and sometimes highly dubious reconstructions of the historical record. I foreground his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, however, for the valuable methodological remarks contained in its introductory paragraphs.17 On my reading, the Introduction to the Lectures gives us instructive clues to Hegel’s general philosophical approach. He indicates in these pages, for example, how he understands the nature of his subject matter. We learn that he classifies freedom, or Spirit, neither as a straightforward object of empirical investigation nor as a product of pure reason. Likewise, he reveals that the tools he takes himself to have at his disposal in embarking on his “philosophic” study of world history are neither purely empirical nor purely a priori but an unusual combination of both. The same may be said for the specific kind of knowledge he expects his reflections to yield. In his Introduction to the Lectures, Hegel explicitly acknowledges the peculiar nature of his hybrid approach; he asks us to appreciate that his approach even appears self-­contradictory. He furthermore notes, however, that there is in fact nothing self-­contradictory about it, and that in the course of the work, he will clarify why this is so. By means of these introductory remarks, Hegel lures his reader into the project of determining just how the empirical and a priori aspects of his philosophic method can harmoniously coexist. Here, as in so many other contexts, he challenges us to discover how what initially looks like a straightforward contradiction is instead some kind of “identity”. My middle chapters (Chapters 3 through 5) take clues from the Lectures as a basis for identifying basic features of Hegel’s theory of freedom. Again, my goal is to specify the sense in which Hegelian freedom is temporally conditioned. To this end, I argue in Chapter 3 that Hegel’s commitment to the “necessity” of Spirit’s development does not imply that he holds that its journey is settled in advance. As I suggest in Chapter 4, he defends a version of fatalism. Curiously, however, 142–151. Another fine treatment of Hegel’s racism, which includes a review of important commentary, is Patricia Purtschert’s, “On the limit of spirit: Hegel’s racism revisited”, Philosophy and Social Criticism 36, no. 9: 1039–1051. 16  For a recent compelling expression of this line of criticism, see Birgit Sandkaulen, “Modus oder Monade. Wie wirklich ist das Individuum bei Hegel?”, in Geist und Geschichte, eds L. Illetterati and F. Menegoni (Frankfurt: Vittorio Klostermann Verlag, 2018), 155–178. 17  My point is not that it is only in the Lectures that one can find support for the line of interpretation I develop here. Hegel’s methodological remarks in the Lectures, however, have the advantage of providing evidence of his commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of reason in a concise and compact way.

10  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit his fatalism is consistent with a robust theory of human freedom as genuinely transformative. In Chapter 5, I argue that Hegel’s account of the transformative nature of our freedom is compatible with his insistence upon freedom’s necessary limits. I try to make precise the respect in which he holds that our freedom is limited in that it is anchored in and therefore indebted for what it is to nature and history. In my final two chapters, I apply this line of interpretation to Hegel’s system more generally. On the account I defend, the method he claims to bring to his treatment of world history illuminates how he understands his own philosophical enterprise and the nature of human reason overall. The methodological remarks in his Introduction to the Lectures on the Philosophy of History help demystify assumptions he brings even to his more abstract works such as the Science of Logic. My thesis is that, for Hegel, thinking—­whatever its object—­is neither purely observational nor purely rational. The same is the case for the tools of our thinking; they, too, are neither purely empirical nor purely a priori. The final two chapters of this book defend this more ambitious and controversial thesis. My argument relies principally on an appeal to coherence. I suggest that if we fail to appreciate the respect in which Hegel is committed to thought’s temporality, we give ourselves no means of accounting for some of his other basic philosophical commitments. First, and very roughly, we cannot explain features of Hegelian freedom. Hegel insists that thought and the will are not separate faculties. I argue that the temporality thesis is central to Hegel’s unique conception of our freedom, and that this gives us clues as to how we should understand his view of the nature of thought as well. Second, the premise of thought’s temporality allows us to de­mys­ tify certain Hegelian claims about the nature of our knowledge. In particular, the temporality thesis is key to his effort to persuade us that we can indeed know ideas of reason that are considered off limits by others (such as Kant)—ideas of our freedom, for example, of world history’s purpose, and even of the “thing in itself ”. Finally, the temporality thesis allows us to account for Hegel’s commitment to the “actuality of the rational”, that is, to the realizability, in world history, of our ideas of freedom, purpose, and so forth. I say more about each of these points in my chapter summaries below.

Some implications of my argument My interpretation depends on the assumption that Hegel breaks from a long tradition of thinkers who insist upon drawing a sharp line between purely empirical and purely rational modes and objects of inquiry. Without denying that some objects of thought are more abstract or formal than others, he argues that there is

Introduction  11 a sense in which no object of thought—­not even the Logic’s “Concept [Begriff ]”— is wholly formal or non-­empirical. To express this implication differently: there is no great divide, in Hegel’s philosophy, between his systematic and more historical works.18 It might seem reasonable to consider the project of the Science of Logic as of a completely different order, for instance, than that of the Lectures on the Philosophy of History or Lectures on the History of Philosophy. On the interpretation I defend, however, Hegel recognizes no legitimate philosophical basis for sharply separating these two kinds of works. Clearly, the objects of the Logic are more abstract than the objects of world history. But in his view, if we confine our attention to these differences, we overlook what stays the same. We fail to grasp that at the basis of all inquiry is a distinctive account of what it is to philosophize, and of what it is more generally to think and be a thinking nature. From the abstract nature of the objects of the Logic, we draw mistaken lessons about the abstract nature of Hegel’s approach to the Logic, about the kind of thinking or philosophizing he brings to that work. In that context, as in any other, his reflections are of course those of a thinker located in time. Hegel appreciates—­and wants us to appreciate—­that the thoughts he brings to his subject matter are therefore indebted to what comes and goes in human time. In proposing, then, that the method Hegel enlists in his world historical investigations contains clues to his method and idealist orientation overall, I mean to imply that his Lectures on the Philosophy of History can guide us in grasping the precise respect in which he considers human reason to be temporally or historically conditioned regardless of its specific object of study. The methodological assumptions he brings to world history give us insight, that is, into his overall view of what it is to think and be a thinking being. In effect, my suggestion is that Hegel’s “philosophic” approach to world history supplies a model for how we should understand his account of human thought or reason in general and the resources he avails himself of as philosopher reflecting on various subjects. In this regard, his philosophy of history is not a peripheral part of his system; nor is it separable from or inconsistent with the rest. His world historical reflections on how Spirit’s development is “fated” or unfolds with “necessity” can help us de­mys­ tify similar remarks that appear in other contexts, for instance in his discussion of the “moments” of the Concept or in the development of various sciences. It can help us understand, in addition, the role he assigns contingency in his system. Hegel’s world historical reflections illuminate not just the method he employs as a philosopher reflecting on these matters, but also the status he believes he is

18  As Walter Jaeschke suggests, Hegel sets out to overcome the gap between the purely rational and the purely historical. In “Die Geschichtlichkeit der Geschichte”, Hegel-­Jahrbuch (1995): 363–373. Along similar lines, Beiser writes that Hegel “rejected any sharp distinction between the a priori and the a posteriori”. See his Introduction to the 1983 edition of the Cambridge Companion to Hegel, 8.

12  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit entitled to award his bold claims (about the “end” of history, the “Absolute”, and so forth). They help explain the significance of development for his enterprise, and his insistence upon the “dialectical” nature of everything.19 The above characterization naturally leads us to wonder how far Hegel intends us to take his claim that dialectic or development is in everything. Is nothing stable in his system? Does he set out to convince us that there is development even in reason’s or freedom’s most fundamental concepts and laws? Are they, too, subject to change? Does the Hegelian system give us no universal and ­necessary conditions or eternal truths whatsoever?20 These are among the questions I address in my final chapter. Hegel sometimes seems to represent himself as adhering to a narrowly Heraclitean worldview in which everything is in flux. Curiously, however, he at the same time undeniably acknowledges the reality and necessity of permanence. I argue that Hegel reserves a place for permanence (of various kinds) in his system. He discovers traces of permanence in the conceptual developments he discusses in the Logic. He discovers permanence in this realm of generation and destruction as well, just as he finds evidence of rationality in what is actual. Hegel nowhere argues that it is possible to wholly expunge permanence from thought or from the comings and goings of agents and events in this temporal order. As in the case of necessity and contingency, permanence and temporality harmoniously coexist. If we want to discover ­precisely how Hegel thinks their coexistence is possible, we need to understand these terms and their relations in a new way. On the interpretation I defend, however, the fact that we must do so attests to the remarkable originality of his thought.

19  I am hardly alone in urging that we appreciate the significance of history, or of his philosophy of history, for Hegel’s system. This is a central theme, for example, of Houlgate’s Freedom, Truth and History. In “World History and the History of the Absolute Spirit”, Jaeschke remarks that we should understand Hegel’s “entire system” as “a philosophy of history”, 103. In History and System: Hegel’s Philosophy of History, ed. Robert L. Perkins (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1984), 101–115. McCarney, too, describes Hegel as “beyond all comparison, the historical philosopher, the one for whom history figures most ambitiously and elaborately as a philosophical category”. In Hegel on History, 7; see also 19. In “Hegel’s Historicism”, Beiser writes that “[h]istory cannot be consigned to a corner of Hegel’s system”, 270; see also 276. Michael Rosen makes the case that, for Hegel, “philosophy itself comes to be seen to have a historical character”. See his “Die Geschichte”, in Handbuch Deutscher Idealismus, eds H. Sandkühler et al. (Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 2005), § 8.9.3. More recently, Eric Michael Dale defends the thesis that, “[n]o philosophical thinker makes history itself . . . more central to the development of his thought than Hegel does”. In Hegel, the End of History, and the Future (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 16. 20  In “Hegel and Historicism”, Clio 7, no. 1 (1977): 33–51, Stanley Rosen urges us to acknowledge that Hegel’s many bold assertions about the “totality” of history support the conclusion that he “is not a genuine historicist”, 37. Hegel’s Logic, for instance, is “not simply a ‘theory’ constructed . . . by a historical being, or the expression of a historical perspective”. I argue here that, although Hegel undeniably makes extravagant-­sounding claims about history as a totality, he can coherently defend such claims without attributing to himself the power of transcending his own time in thought. Even Rosen grants that Hegel is out to “reconcile” eternity and this-­worldly temporality, 39. Everything of course depends on how we understand Hegel’s strategy for securing this reconciliation.

Introduction  13

Chapter Summaries Chapter 1: History and Human Finitude: Kant versus Hegel Hegel repeatedly warns us against conflating his treatment of practical normativity with that of the positivist for whom our norms are mere reflections of our actual passions and desires. He argues instead that what is rational is in some respect irreducible to what is actual. It might therefore seem that Hegel belongs squarely in the rationalists’ camp and on the side of Kant in opposition to reductive empiricism. But Hegel’s treatment of practical normativity and the freedom upon which it is based resists easy classification. In this chapter, I compare the Kantian and Hegelian approaches to world history in order to identify some distinctively non-Kantian features of Hegel’s conception of freedom and its laws. I begin by considering the extent to which the two philosophers share a sensitivity to the accidental and non-­rational aspects of human affairs. Kant insists upon the a priori status of his idea of the purposive development of world history; his idea, he tells us, is a product of pure reason. Nonetheless, he acknowledges that there is much that happens to us that is contingent, and much that motivates us that reflects the finite and highly changeable—­even irrational—­side of our nature. Kant’s philosophy of history is therefore highly attentive to the reality of human finitude, that is, to the limits that constrain us in our efforts to know and to act. I suggest that Hegel’s appreciation of the extent of our finitude goes a step further, and that this can be explained with reference to the particular way in which he discovers finitude in human reason itself. As I set out to demonstrate in this work, he is committed to the assumption that our reason—­and the freedom it affords us—­is in significant respects indebted for what it is to this actual world, to the comings and goings of nature and history.

Chapter 2: Hegel’s “Philosophic” Approach to World History At first glance, Hegel appears to follow in Kant’s footsteps in characterizing his idea of the purposive development of history as “a priori”. We discover in this chapter, however, that he at the same time asserts that his “philosophic” treatment of world history must pass the test of actual history. Hegel is committed to the assumption, in other words, that his unique philosophic approach is somehow both a priori and empirically verifiable. This presents us with the challenge of explaining how he can represent his method in these apparently incompatible ways. I suggest that the solution to this ­puzzle sheds light on his unique conception of human reason and freedom. As I argue, Hegel aims to persuade us that these special capacities and their products are in some way a hybrid mixture of the priori and the empirical.

Chapter 3: Necessity in Hegel’s Philosophy of History It is tempting to suppose that, in describing the purposive development of history as unfolding with “necessity” and according to a divine plan, Hegel signals his intention

14  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit to defend a Leibnizian-­style theodicy. His insistence upon history’s necessity might then seem incompatible with my interpretative thesis that he takes human reason and freedom to be anchored in and therefore indebted to the realm of the actual. In this chapter, I raise doubts about the proposal that Hegel holds that the course of world history, and likewise reason’s special concepts and laws, are settled in advance. He argues that events of world history are linked by an idea of purposive unity, an idea that accounts for history’s necessity. In doing so, however, his intention is not to endorse a thesis of predetermination but rather to give us an alternative to the Epicurean view that everything that happens is governed by chance. With Kant, Hegel appreciates that unless we can connect what happens by means of a unifying idea or concept, we undercut the very possibility of narrating world history. Since Hegel is in addition committed to the assumption that the idea of unity that links events of world history is a specific idea of human freedom, we arrive at the paradoxical-­sounding conclusion that it is a specific idea of freedom, on his account, that is responsible for history’s necessity. I furthermore explore Hegel’s reasons for characterizing that idea of freedom as “objective” rather than “subjective”. He awards the idea objectivity at least in part because he takes it to be verified by history itself. This gives us further indication of the respect in which concepts of reason are in his view at once a priori and empirical. In addition, we move closer to clarifying Hegel’s reasons for considering himself entitled to assert, in yet another departure from Kant, that the idea of history is more than an item of speculation or faith.

Chapter 4: Hegel’s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom In the service of further demystifying Hegel’s commitment to history’s necessity, I dedicate this chapter to the question of how its necessity can be compatible with our freedom. We discover that, much like his “philosophic” approach to world history which he characterizes as both a priori and empirical, human freedom for Hegel has a hybrid nature as well. As he portrays it, our freedom is a genuinely creative and transformative power; it does not therefore simply reduce to nature (it is not simply an expression of our natural drives and passions). But although genuinely transformative, our freedom is a power that is nonetheless in and of nature. It is transformative without being transcendent; it affords us no capacity to wholly abstract away what is. My defense of this line of interpretation begins by clearing away the charge that since Hegel endorses a fatalistic account of history’s necessity, he can be no true friend of freedom. In this chapter, we once again consider the suggestion that he is committed to a thesis of predetermination. Hegel undeniably endorses some version of fatalism; he also insists, however, that his fatalism is not “blind”.21 Minimally, a fatalism is blind, for Hegel, if it cannot be known by us. But fatalism is in addition blind, in his view, if it is merely “external” and as such incompatible with a specific account of freedom. In a nutshell, Hegel’s remarks about the fate of world history express his 21  In his §342 of his Philosophy of Right, for example, Hegel writes that world history is “not the abstract and non-­rational [vernunftlose] necessity of a blind fate [blindes Schicksals]”.

Introduction  15 endorsement of the premise that history’s course is to a significant extent our fate, that is, significantly up to us. I defend this interpretation with the help of passages in which he weighs the relative virtues of “ancient” versus certain “modern” or “Christian” conceptions of fate or necessity. Hegel is intrigued by the stoic recommendation that we “reconcile” ourselves to our fate, but he also urges that this reconciliation to what is should not be understood as an endorsement of quietism. On the contrary, the attitude of reconciliation that he wishes us to achieve rests on an assumption about the transformative nature of our reason and the freedom it affords us. There can be a harmony or reconciliation of the “is” and “ought” in this world, according to Hegel, precisely as a consequence of our reason’s transformative and creative power. Human reason is in and of this world, but it nevertheless has the capacity to normatively govern this world. We are not forced to follow those “moderns” or “Christians”, then, for whom a harmony of the actual and the ideal or rational is only to be discovered in a world beyond this one. Thanks to our faculty of reason and resulting freedom, we can indeed shape our fate. Hegel is convinced that we can do so, even though he also grants that there is much that is contingent that happens to us.

Chapter 5: Freedom’s Necessary Limits In this chapter, I further illuminate and explore implications of Hegel’s claim that our freedom is anchored in nature, or more broadly, in the realm of what is. Our freedom, in his view, is a natural capacity, a capacity we possess not as “noumenal” natures but as animals endowed with special powers of abstraction and reflection. Hegel in addition argues that freedom’s products (that is, its concepts and laws) are indebted to nature and history in some way. Freedom’s content is not pre-­given or innate; it is acquired in human time and in the course of world history. Our idea of freedom develops, as does our understanding of the conditions of our freedom’s satisfaction. This development is propelled forward by interactions obtaining between our natural capacity for reflection and concrete forces of nature and history, forces not entirely within our control and in this respect contingent. I argue, in addition, that it is only with reference to Hegel’s appreciation of this debt of our freedom to the contingencies of nature and history that we can understand his argument for how we can both know our fate and secure its compatibility with a freedom that is genuinely transformative.

Chapter 6: Thought’s Temporality It might be objected that the previous chapters establish at most that Hegel aims to persuade us of the appearance of contingency in world history, an appearance that hides history’s real necessity from view. What my discussion seems to have missed, according to this objection, is that history on Hegel’s account unfolds in keeping with a preset plan, a plan to which he believes he has privileged access. In response, I argue that in suggesting that Hegel considers contingency to be a mere appearance, this objection in effect attributes to him the assumption that there is something behind the

16  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit appearances—­something that remains for the most part hidden, or at least hidden from all but the select few. But Hegel repeatedly expresses his frustration with those who assert that there is an unknowable necessity or essence lurking behind what appears. He is in addition impatient with philosophers like Kant who, having drawn the limits of human knowledge, go on to claim that they are nonetheless in a position to draw those limits “absolutely” (or, what is the same, to know with necessity what is and is not beyond them). Of course, Hegel could be inconsistent; it is possible that he means to argue that although others have no right to profess this kind of absolute knowledge, he does. In this chapter, I further defend my suggestion that contingency on his account is not just an appearance but rather a real force to be reckoned with. Contingency is an essential feature of the actual world in which Spirit resides and to which it is indebted. It is in this sixth chapter that I turn my attention to what I earlier identified as the second and more ambitious aim of this book: to argue for the centrality of temporality for Hegel’s overall system. My foregoing chapters defend the thesis that Hegelian freedom or Spirit is temporally conditioned. Beginning in this chapter, I suggest that this thesis about Spirit’s debt to forces of this actual world extends to Hegel’s system in general. It is not just Spirit, on his account, that is indebted for its content to the temporally ordered comings and goings of this actual world, but all our thought as well. My strategy for defending this more ambitious claim relies principally on the assumption that there is an underlying coherence to Hegel’s system, and con­sist­ency among its central commitments. More precisely, I argue that unless we grant that human thought is temporally conditioned in the way I just outlined, we cannot explain Hegel’s endorsement of the following three key assumptions: The first is his freedom thesis which implies that our freedom, although anchored in nature, is nonetheless genuinely creative and transformative. I argue that we cannot account for the creative and generative capacity of human freedom, as he portrays it, unless we sufficiently appreciate the role of temporality in his system. The second is his knowability thesis, his assumption that we indeed can cognize the ways of fate or Providence. Here, too, I suggest that Hegel’s claim that we can know Providence follows from his commitment to temporally limited nature of thought. This is my argument, as well, regarding his realizability thesis, that is, his commitment to the “actuality” of what is “rational”.

Chapter 7: Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit If all our thought is for Hegel temporally conditioned, and if he judges that contingency is a real force to be reckoned with rather than just an appearance, what are we to make of those passages in which he remarks that it is the business of philosophy to concern itself with what endures, with the “eternally [ewig]” or “absolutely [schlechthin] present” (PH 82/105, EL §86A2)? How, too, are we to interpret his claim that, despite its developmental history, Spirit has a certain “immortality [Unsterblichkeit]” and should be thought of as an “essential now [wesentlich jetzt]” (PH 82/105)?22 22  Why, too, does he write in the final pages of the Phenomenology that the way to “absolute knowing” requires Spirit to “set aside its temporal form [Zeitform]” (¶ 801)?

Introduction  17 Assertions such as these convey the impression that Hegel awards permanence a ­special place in his system, but how? The role of permanence in Hegel’s philosophy could itself easily be the subject of a book-­length treatment, but I confine my task in this brief, final chapter to offering a few reasons for why his treatment of permanence is compatible with my suggestion that he discovers movement or dialectic in everything, even in our most basic thought forms. As is often the case, what at first appears to be an inconsistency in Hegel’s thinking turns out to be a philosophically promising idea. It is undeniable, for instance, that he directs criticisms at the law of identity; at the same time, however, he acknowledges that fixed meaning is a condition of intelligibility. And although Hegel is eager to draw our attention to the phenomenon of progressive development and to the dialectical transformations in our concepts, he nonetheless discovers a certain permanence in these progressions. I suggest that Hegel discovers a permanence that is not just compatible with but is indeed implied by his commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of our thought and freedom in at least the following respect: in the advances of thought and Spirit, new forms invariably build upon old ones, upon what came before. In building upon and responding to what came before, new forms not only negate but also preserve what came before. I conclude with the proposal that this assumption that something is preserved in part explains Hegel’s remark that “[n]othing in the past is lost” to philosophy (PH 82/105).23 His thesis that any new stage or advance is indebted to what came before implies that no instance of progress can be an absolutely new beginning, generated out of nowhere. And this claim that no advance in human thought and freedom can be generated out of nowhere can equally well be understood as expressing a commitment to the fundamental assumption I attribute to Hegel throughout this work: that our thought and freedom are in significant respects anchored in and therefore conditioned by the temporally ordered comings and goings of this actual world.

23 “Alles ist ihr [Philosophie] in der Vergangenheit unverloren . . .”

1 History and Human Finitude Kant versus Hegel

With this chapter, I begin the project with which I will be preoccupied through Chapter 5: my defense of the temporally conditioned nature of Hegelian freedom. In these pages and in Chapter 2, I focus primarily on Hegel’s philosophy of history. This is for the two reasons I mentioned in my Introduction. First, Hegel’s Lectures on the Philosophy of History belongs among those works in which freedom is his primary object of concern. As he says, it is in the “theater of world history” that human freedom or “Spirit” has its “most concrete reality” (PH 19/29). Second, the Lectures contain important methodological clues to his overall philosophical approach. My aim is to derive from Hegel’s philosophy of history justification for the thesis that, on his account, human freedom is temporally conditioned. The thesis is by no means obvious; indeed, Hegel sometimes seems to give us reason to think that the opposite must be the case. That is, he at times appears intent upon convincing us that the course of world history is settled from the start by forces originating outside human history, forces of Providence or fate that are to no extent responsive to what happens in this actual world. In certain discussions, Hegel conveys the impression that world history is a closed and predetermined system that imposes order onto temporally located agents without itself being in any way impacted by what actually happens in ‘real’ time. Beginning in the present chapter, I set out to accurately assess Hegel’s sensitivity to the finitude of our freedom. By the “finitude” of freedom, I mean its limits—­ limits that reflect its responsiveness to contingencies of nature and history. Does Hegel discover finitude in human freedom at all? If so, in what way and to what extent? Because Hegel describes human reason at the highest state of its development as achieving a certain “eternity” or “infinity”, the answers to these questions are hardly obvious.24 And if we compare features of his philosophy of history with Kant’s, the conclusion seems forced upon us that although Kant gives us

24 See, e.g. Hegel’s remark in the Lectures that Spirit “belongs to the dimension of eternity” (PH 98/141). In EN §258A, he is said to describe “the Idea, or Spirit” as “above [über] time”. See also EG §386A.

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0002

History and Human Finitude  19 abundant evidence of his appreciation of the finitude and fragility of our nature, Hegel does not. As is perhaps already apparent, I am going to defend a different conclusion. In this chapter, I put in place the first steps of my argument by comparing Kant and Hegel’s approaches to world history. As we will see, the two philosophers share key assumptions. Both give us a progressive narrative of the development of our freedom, as well as a largely optimistic assessment of the prospects for moral progress. Both acknowledge that conflict is an essential driver of the forward movement. In addition, each appreciates that, although progress would not be possible without the exercise of our reason, we are rational natures who are also animal natures, and our reason is by no means always in full control. We must contend with accidents of nature and history, as well as with our bodies and their associated desires and drives. For both Kant and Hegel, our reason is what is quasi-­divine about us, but it is nonetheless finite in significant respects. In sections 1.1 and 1.2, I lay out a sympathetic account of Kant’s philosophy of history. We will see that there are good grounds for portraying him as deeply sensitive to the reality of human finitude. His general philosophical program seems to rest on a modesty Hegel cannot rival. Kant, after all, never claims to be in possession of “absolute” knowledge; he takes it to be one of his principal tasks to remind us of the limits to what we can know, and he vehemently insists upon the necessity of submitting our reason to “critique”. Regarding his reflections on the progress of world history in particular, he asks us to be mindful of their merely “conjectural [mutmaßlich]” nature.25 He warns us against supposing that the plan or telos of world history is accessible to our knowledge. An initial comparison of the degree to which these two philosophers appreciate the fact of our finitude would therefore seem to yield the result that Kant is the indisputable winner. It is Kant, not Hegel, who steers clear of improbable and pompous-­sounding declarations about the “actuality” of what is “rational”, and it is Kant who insists upon drawing a sharp line between the domains of faith and knowledge. The challenge I begin to take on in this chapter, then, is that of arguing that all is not what it seems. I will suggest that Hegel is in significant respects more attentive to the reality of our finitude. The fact that this is so shows up in the precise way in which he discovers finitude in our reason (and in freedom) itself. That is, Hegel’s attentiveness to the reality of our finitude is revealed in the way in which he—­in contrast to Kant—­considers these faculties and their products to be temporally conditioned. 25 See Kant’s essay, “Conjectural Beginning of Human History” (“Mutmaßlicher Anfang der Menschengeschichte”), published in 1786. In volume 8 of the Academy edition.

20  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

1.1  Kant on World History and Finitude: Introduction In these first two sections, I draw evidence of Kant’s sensitivity to human finitude from his philosophy of history. Because his 1784 essay “Idea of Universal History” is sufficient to make this case, it will be the center of my attention. In that essay, Kant’s concern with the phenomenon of our finitude is evident both in the questions he asks and in the answers he supplies. In this first section, I introduce the topics of “Idea” that we will consider in greater detail in section 1.2. I begin with a brief sketch of what Kant identifies as his principal objective in “Idea” by indicating the main concerns motivating his discussion. I then highlight features of his method for deploying history in addressing the essay’s central questions.

1.1.1  The Task of “Idea” Kant’s task in “Idea” can be stated very simply: it is to defend his answer to the question: Is humanity progressing? By progress, in this particular context, Kant means moral rather than scientific or technological progress. By moral progress, he has in mind advancement in the service of achieving a “cultured” and “civilized” human condition and thus in the expression of and respect for human freedom (8:26). Kant describes this kind of progress as progress towards the achievement of a “universal cosmopolitan condition” (8:28).

1.1.2  Kant’s Motivation Kant’s investigation in “Idea” is motivated in large part by what for him is a practical worry—­a worry that rests upon his somewhat somber view of human nature.26 He gives expression to that view already in the second paragraph of the essay:

26  The practical motivation behind Kant’s “Idea” essay has been emphasized by many commentators, including W.  H.  Walsh, The Philosophy of History: An Introduction (New Delhi: Cosmo Publications, 2008), 123 and Yirmiyahu Yovel, Kant and the Philosophy of History (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), 6. Allen Wood acknowledges the “practical” motivation of “Idea” but argues that the essay’s “primary focus” is “theoretical”: it is to “make sense” of human history as a teleological process. See Wood’s “Kant’s Philosophy of History”, in Toward Perpetual Peace and Other Writings on Politics, Peace and History, ed. P.  Kleingeld (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2006), 254. Another author who emphasizes this theoretical aim is Katerina Deligiorgi, in “Actions and Events and Vice Versa: Kant, Hegel and the Concept of History”, in Internationales Jahrbuch des deutschen Idealismus/International Yearbook of German Idealism 10, eds D. Emundts and S. Sedgwick (Berlin/Boston: Walter de Gruyter Verlag, 2012), 177.

History and Human Finitude  21 One cannot resist [erwehren] feeling a certain indignation when one observes [human] deeds and omissions on the great stage of the world and finds that despite the wisdom appearing now and then in individual cases, everything in the large is woven together out of folly, childish vanity, often also out of childish malice and the rage to destruction; so that in the end one does not know what sort of concept to form of our species.  (8:18)

Kant’s remarks here can hardly be described as those of a starry-­eyed romantic. Already in this introductory paragraph, he reveals his sensitivity to our limits. One “does not know what sort of concept to form” of the human species, he says, because we humans have corrupted our history with multiple acts of “folly [Torheit]” and “malice [Bosheit]”.27 Kant raises concerns about the prospects for moral progress precisely because he is all too aware of the imperfections of our nature. The question of moral progress arises, for Kant, not just because of obvious blemishes on the historical record; it arises for the further reason that human animals are uniquely creatures about whom it is appropriate to pose the question concerning progress. Only human animals are capable of progress, in Kant’s view, because only human animals possess free will. Although non-­human animals exhibit some degree of self-­motion and even ingenuity in adapting to changing conditions, non-­human animals do not strictly speaking choose their actions. They cannot do so because they are governed wholly by instinct. Kant insists that nature endowed exclusively human animals with reason, and reason is “a faculty [Vermögen] of extending the rules and aims of the use of all its powers far beyond natural instinct” (8:18f.). In giving us reason, nature also gave us the “freedom of the will grounded on it” (8:19). Finally, Kant takes there to be a genuine question about progress because the concept of progress implies a pattern of behavior or activity. In the context of the “Idea” essay, as I just noted, the pattern is one of moral improvement. Kant asserts, however, that it is far from clear that human history gives us actual evidence of any such pattern. It could be plausibly argued that the lesson we should derive from our history is that what governs human activity is mere whim and arbitrariness, and that the “idiotic course [widersinnigen Gang]” of our history reveals no sign whatsoever of a unifying plan or purpose (8:18). For this further reason, there is for Kant a real question about whether there has been moral progress in the course of human affairs. 27  Kant makes similar remarks in “Conjectural Beginning of Human History” published two years later, in 1786. The “thoughtful person is acquainted with a kind of distress [Kummer] . . . when he considers the evils that so heavily oppress the human species, without hope of improvement” (8:120f.).

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1.1.3  Kant’s Method in “Idea” Despite his rather dark portrayal of human nature, Kant’s answer to the main question of the “Idea” essay is ultimately a hopeful one. He observes that humanity has come a long way; we are already “cultured” and “civilized”, he says (8:26). Although he grants that there remains room for improvement, he seems convinced that, overall, the trajectory of human history is headed the right direction. So far, the historical evidence suggests that there is progress towards civic freedom and enlightenment, towards the achievement of a “universal cosmopolitan condition” (8:28). Because our central objective in this chapter is to highlight principal respects in which Kant and Hegel part ways in their treatments of world history, it is especially important that we examine Kant’s description of how he thinks he is able to justify this hopeful outlook. As we will see, his means of justifying his vision of moral progress is markedly different than Hegel’s. The difference shows up in the kind of evidence Kant believes he can offer in support of his assumptions. It shows up, too, in how he characterizes the method of his historical investigations. We will consider these differences in detail beginning in section 2, but several points are worth anticipating. Kant observes in the first paragraph of “Idea” that his evidence is at least in part empirical. He approaches the subject matter of world history much in the same manner, he says, as the natural scientist approaches her subject matter, namely by sifting through the empirical data for evidence of patterns or regularities. Kepler “subjected the eccentric paths of the planets . . . to definite laws”, and Newton “explained these laws by a universal natural cause” (8:18). Kant likewise conceives of his task as that of setting out to establish whether patterns can be discovered in the vast diversity of human affairs. He hopes his study will reveal more than a “planless aggregate [planloßes Aggregat]” or “confused play [verworrenen Spiels]” of events (8:29f.). He aims to determine whether a history of human affairs is strictly speaking possible, that is, whether there can be a “narration [Erzählung]” of the appearances of freedom in human actions (8:17).28 Kant ends up concluding that if we take the long view and focus on the species rather than the individual, we can indeed discover signs of moral improvement in the apparent chaos of events (8:17).29

28  As Walsh observes in The Philosophy of History, by “history” in this context, Kant does not mean a mere “chronicle”, that is, a “bare recital of unconnected facts”, 33. Kant instead intends to provide a “significant record” or “narrative of past actions arranged in such a way that we see not only what happened but also why”, 22. Others who have emphasized this point include Manfred Kuhn in “Reason as a Species Characteristic”. In Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2009), 68–93. 29  In his Second Thesis, Kant makes explicit his reasons for looking for evidence of moral progress in the history of the human race as a whole rather than in any particular individual.

History and Human Finitude  23 At the same time, however, Kant insists that his project in “Idea” is in a certain respect not empirical. His project differs from that of the proper historian in that it is a “philosophical” attempt to work out a universal history (8:29). As he puts it, his idea of world history is “to some extent [gewissermaßen] based upon an a priori principle or guiding thread [Leitfaden]” (8:30). It is the work of a “philosophical mind [philosophischer Kopf]” and not intended to displace a “properly empirical history” (8:29).30 In section 1.2, we will consider more closely Kant’s discussion of the evidentiary basis of his idea of world history. It will then become clear that the motivation for the “Idea” essay derives not just from his sensitivity to the imperfections that invariably accompany human action, but also from his assumptions about the necessary limits of our knowledge. In his view, historical investigations can rely upon empirical evidence up to a point, but we cannot expect to get definitive answers to our questions by this means. The inquiry into world history must rely, in addition, on an a priori “guiding thread”. The reason for this is not just because the past cannot be directly observed. As we will see, Kant holds in addition that principal claims of a philosophical consideration of history are not susceptible to empirical confirmation.

1.2  Principal Theses of Kant’s “Idea for a Universal History” My objective in considering central theses of Kant’s “Idea” essay in this section is to aid our comparison of Kant and Hegel and thereby identify essential similarities and differences in their approaches. Both hold that there can be a philosophy of history; they therefore agree that it is possible to discover order in the chaos of human affairs. Both, in addition, tell a positive developmental story about that order, a story of gradual moral improvement. As I mentioned a moment ago, the two philosophers nonetheless part ways in two fundamental respects. In contrast to Hegel, Kant denies that either history or science can ultimately justify his idea of progress. In denying this, he appears to qualify as the more modest of the two thinkers. There is furthermore a difference in how they each evaluate our prospects for realizing our moral ideals. Although Kant insists that we never know that we are progressing, strictly speaking, he is convinced that his philosophy of history can at least console us or give us grounds for hope. In contrast, Hegel asserts that we can know that we are making progress. Not only that, we can be

30 The novelty of Kant’s enterprise of attempting an a priori history is emphasized by Walter Jaeschke in “Die Geschichtlichkeit der Geschichte”, 365. In doing so, Kant took an important first step in overcoming the traditional gap between purely rational and purely empirical modes of inquiry. Hegel developed Kant’s innovation further, Jaeschke argues, with his more radical appreciation of the historical nature (“Geschichtlichkeit”) of reason.

24  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit confident that what is “rational [vernünftig]” is already realized or “actual [wirklich]”. Our first order of business will be to highlight key features of Kant’s philosophy of history and explain more fully how he arrives at the two conclusions I just mentioned, namely that his idea of history is unknowable but can nonetheless give us hope. Among other things, this will require us to take a closer look at his methodological commitments and the metaphysical assumptions upon which they rest.

1.2.1  A Teleological Approach to History As I just noted, Kant argues in “Idea” that world history reveals the presence in human affairs of a certain pattern, in particular, a pattern of moral improvement. As he puts it, the course of human affairs is more than a “planless aggregate” (8:29). Kant in addition takes the thesis that history exhibits a pattern to imply that we can discover evidence of purpose in human affairs. In his First Thesis, he introduces us to that idea of purpose. Curiously, the First Thesis makes no mention of human nature or history specifically. Rather, it posits the existence of purposes in animal nature overall. According to the thesis, which Kant explicitly identifies as “teleological [teleologisch]”, “All natural capacities of a creature are determined to evolve completely and purposively” (8:18).31 The suggestion is that, over time, nature exhibits not just change but development. In development, changes are somehow related, as if coordinated to serve a common goal. According to this thesis of purposive development, what happens to the natural predispositions of creatures amounts to more, then, than a matter of “comfortless chance [trostlose Ungefähr]” (8:18). In his Third Thesis, Kant credits nature itself (or as he later writes, “perhaps a wise Creator”32) with the assignment of purposes. This assumption is striking for a number of reasons, beginning with the fact that he thereby seems to contradict his suggestion later in this same discussion that purpose in human nature or in human affairs is the work of reason, not nature. If we consider Kant’s remarks more closely, however, we discover that there is no contradiction. In crediting nature with the assignment of purposes, his message is that nature (or a “wise Creator”) is responsible for the overall purposive distribution of natural capacities. We therefore have nature to thank for the very fact that we have reason. It remains up to us, however, to decide how to use that faculty. If we use our reason 31 In this context, the thesis is about “creatures [Geschöpfe]” in particular, but Kant elsewhere defends the view that purposes must be attributed to nature as a whole. See, e.g. his discussion in CJ §64. I have more to say about this in Chapter 3. 32  Kant mentions a “wise Creator [eines weißen Schöpfers]” in the final sentence of his Fourth Thesis (8:22).

History and Human Finitude  25 properly, then we are entitled to take credit for aiding the development of moral progress. But what are we to make of Kant’s bold suggestion that nature’s assignment of faculties is purposive? He stresses this point in his Third Thesis, where he writes that, “Nature does nothing in vain [überflüssig]”; in the use of “means to her ends, she is not wasteful [verschwenderisch]” (8:19). In ascribing purposes to nature, Kant implies that nature possesses unusual powers, powers significantly different in kind from blind mechanical causes. This is a central assumption of the “Idea” essay, and it is worth exploring more closely; for Kant’s reliance on a causality of purposes has important implications for his philosophy of history overall. Kant argues that mechanical causality cannot warrant conclusions about design or purpose. Mechanical causality implies that for any event, x, there is a temporally antecedent causal condition (or chain of conditions), y, without which x would not have occurred. If what we are explaining are events in nature, the causal conditions in play are natural forces governed by Newtonian laws of motion. In his Critique of Judgment, written six years after “Idea”, Kant illustrates both the application and limits of mechanical explanation. We marvel at the phenomenon of flight, for instance, and we mechanically explain that phenomenon by identifying its antecedent causal conditions; among other things, we study the structure of birds’ wings and their interaction with aerodynamic forces. But if we restrict ourselves to a purely mechanical explanation, the most we can say is that it is “to the highest degree accidental [im höchsten Grade zufällig]” that these forces converged to produce the phenomenon of flight (CJ §61 [360]). That is, a purely mechanical explanation cannot justify the hypothesis that nature structured birds’ wings for the purpose of flying. In Chapter 3, I explore Kant’s reasons for arguing that mechanical explanation (whether of nature or of world history) itself requires the idea of a causality of purposes. My present objective is simply to highlight his assumption that, if we seek evidence of purpose, we need to rely on something other than a purely natural or mechanical form of causality. As he argues in the Critique of Judgment, ­natural scientific investigation cannot by itself warrant claims of purpose. The concept of purpose, in his terminology, is an “idea” of reason. Like all ideas, in his technical sense, it refers to an object that cannot be encountered in experience.33 The assumption that nature is purposive or designed, then, is not one that can be justified either by ordinary observation or by our scientific investigations into

33  “Ideas” are concepts for which “no object of experience can be given” (CJ §77 [344f.]). Even back in 1785, in the first of three reviews Kant published criticizing Johann Gottfried Herder’s 1784 work “Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichte der Menschheit”, Kant writes that, “the unity of organic force . . . as self-­constituting with respect to the manifold of all organic creatures . . . is an idea that lies wholly outside the field of empirical natural science and belongs solely to speculative philosophy” (8:54; my emphasis). I return to Kant’s criticisms of Herder below, especially in footnote 38.

26  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit nature. For this reason, the idea of purpose is unknowable from a scientific or theoretical point of view. In the context of his philosophy of history, Kant’s treatment of the idea of purpose is the same. If we discover purpose or progress in human history, it is because we assume that what happens in history is more than the result of the accidental convergence of necessary conditions. In effect, we presuppose a non-­ natural form of causality.34 We presuppose that what happens is not just, or not always, a matter of chance, and that there is “regular movement [regelmäßigen Gang]” or meaning in the course of human affairs (8:17). The discovery of regular movement or a pattern is necessary if our aim is to provide a history or “narration [Erzählung]” of our subject matter. As we know, Kant sets out in the “Idea” essay to discover in human affairs one pattern in particular, a pattern of moral progress. This is his aim, even though he insists that moral progress is an idea of reason and as such unknowable.35

1.2.2  On the Function Nature Has Assigned Human Reason In the early paragraphs of “Idea”, Kant describes the specific function or purpose nature has assigned our reason. He insists, first, upon distinguishing reason from instinct. He notes elsewhere that, initially, instinct provided our sole tool for survival. “In the beginning”, reason had not yet begun to “stir”, and human animals were guided “by instinct alone” (8:111).36 In “Idea”, he remarks that with the awakening of reason, we gained the ability to “extend” [erweitern] the “rules and aims . . . of natural instinct” (8:18). Unlike instinct, our reason is malleable; it can develop in response to “effort, practice and training” (8:19). Kant furthermore asserts that nature would not have given us reason had it intended us to be governed solely by instinct. This is an implication of the Third Thesis: “Nature has willed that man . . . should partake of no other happiness or perfection than that which he himself, independent of instinct, has created by his own reason” (8:19). Had nature intended us to be guided by instinct alone, she would have endowed us more generously—­she would have given us the “horns of the bull” or the “claws of the lion”. Had this been the case, however, our faculty of reason would never have been awakened into action. The emergence of reason thus owes a debt to what Kant refers to as the “parsimony [Sparsamkeit]” of nature 34  We do not (or more precisely, cannot) observe purposes in nature, Kant asserts at CJ§ 75 [399]. See also CJ§§ 64–67. 35  As Karl Ameriks argues in “The Purposive Development of Human Capacities”, the “idea” to which Kant refers is not historically contingent but rather has a “kind of Platonic status” as an “atemporal ideal”. According to Ameriks, Kant intended his “Idea” essay as an alternative especially to Herder’s historicist tendencies. In Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 49, 52. 36  The passage is from Kant’s 1786 essay “Conjectural Beginning of Human History”.

History and Human Finitude  27 (8:19). Nature’s parsimony is responsible for the fact that, especially in conditions of scarcity, we rely on reason to secure our needs, such as the need for nourishment, safety, and defense. Nature assigned reason not just the task of aiding our survival and making our lives more agreeable, but also for allowing us to progress out of the “greatest barbarity” to the “inner perfection of our way of thinking” (8:20). Thanks therefore to nature for . . . the jealous [mißgünstig] ambitious vanity, for the insatiable desire to possess and control. Without nature, all of humanity’s most precious natural capacities would forever remain undeveloped and ­dormant [ewig unentwickelt schlummern]. (8:21)

Kant explicitly argues in this passage that the purpose of nature’s parsimony is to stimulate our reason’s development. This assumption gives rise to the further question: Why did nature, which does nothing in vain, not assign instinct the task of securing our inner perfection and freedom? Kant reveals his answer further on in his discussion. The fact that it is reason rather than instinct that is responsible for the advance of human nature beyond its “animal existence [tierischen Daseins]” is precisely what allows us to take credit for moral progress. Nature endows us with instinct, a force we are powerless to oppose; we can neither train nor alter it to suit our varying needs and situations. As I mentioned a moment ago, Kant holds that reason, in contrast, is capable of development. Given “effort, practice and training”, reason can be trained to “progress from one level of insight to another” (8:19). Reason is therefore ours to control, at least in certain respects.37 The fact that reason is within our control allows for the possibility that we can assume responsibility for its operations. We can suppose that the production of our well-­being and the perfection of our capacities is in some measure the result of our own work. It is thanks to nature’s parsimony—­thanks, that is, to the fact that she did not give us the “horns of the bull” and thereby stimulated the development of our reason—­that we can make ourselves “worthy [würdig]” of our well-­being (8:20). In short, nature’s parsimony gives us the opportunity to boost our moral self-­esteem.38

37  We cannot in Kant’s view control everything about our reason. For instance, we cannot control the fact that we have reason; nature or a “wise Creator” is responsible for that. Nor is it up us to generate reason’s essential properties, properties that distinguish it from our other faculties such as sensation. 38  As Fackenheim puts it, Kant wants to argue that nature aims to produce something that is “an end in itself ”, namely the human being as a “moral” being. See his “Kant’s Concept of History,” in The God Within: Kant, Schelling, and Historicity, ed. J. Burbridge (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1996), 43.

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1.2.3  On how Human Reason is Awakened into Action Especially in his discussion of the Fourth Thesis, Kant has more to say about the means by which our reason is awakened into action, about the forces that propel us from a condition of barbarity to one of culture. The basic engine of forward movement is the particular kind of conflict or “antagonism [Antagonism]” that he identifies as “unsocial sociability [ungesellige Geselligkeit]” (8:20). Although we human animals generally desire each other’s company, we also harbor unsocial tendencies. We compete with each other to satisfy our physical needs; when those needs are met, we compete for something else, such as social regard or status. Precisely because we are special animals possessing ‘higher’ faculties, we are driven by “vainglory, lust for power, and avarice” to “achieve a rank among [our] fellows” (8:21).39 As unpleasant as this opposition or conflict may be, Kant is convinced that, overall and in the long run, it produces positive results. Were we not in part unsocial natures, he writes, “all [our] talents would remain forever hidden [­verborgen]” (8:21). Not just natural scarcity but also social conflict—­even war—­plays a crucial role in awakening our various powers, including our power of reason. In encouraging the development of our tastes and talents, conflict stimulates our need to devise and implement practical rules. If we are to live in peace, we have to “conquer” our “vainglory”, our “lust for power”, and “avarice”. In developing our practically rational capacities and in institutionalizing practical principles, we secure the transition from “barbarism to culture”; we transform society into what Kant refers to as a “moral whole [moralisches Ganze]” (8:21). Ultimately, we make possible a whole governed by means of a “perfectly just constitution” (8:22)—governed, that is, by universally agreed upon principles regulating the external expression of freedom.40 A central thesis of the “Idea” essay, then, is that unsocial sociability is in the long run the “cause of lawful order among men” (8:20). Nature knows what is best for us and therefore “wills discord” (8:21). She does so in the service of her 39  Kant traces our sociability back to our animality which is responsible for our natural tendency to seek the company of others. The unsociable form of our sociability derives, however, from our predisposition to humanity. As such, it originates in our rational predisposition as free natures to set ends. Unsociable sociability develops along with our reason which strives to secure us a sense of self-­worth and ultimately superiority. Allen Wood explores these points in detail in his “Kant’s Fourth Proposition: the Unsocial Sociability of Human Nature”, in Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2009), 115–116. See also, in the same volume, J. B. Schneewind’s paper, “Good out of evil: Kant and the idea of unsocial sociability”, 107–109. 40  Kant remarks on the ultimately productive consequences of war in the Seventh Thesis of “Idea”. In “Conjectural Beginning”, he pays homage to Rousseau for recognizing that although war is a great source of evil, it is a necessary condition of culture. Reflecting on human culture in its “present state”, Kant writes that war is an “indispensable means [unentbehrliches Mittel] to the still further development of human culture” (8:121). He makes similar remarks four years later in §83 of the Critique of Judgment. War is “one more incentive for us to develop . . . all the talents which serve culture” (5:433).

History and Human Finitude  29 “highest purpose [höchste Absicht]”, which is to ensure the “development of all the capacities that can be achieved by the human species” and thereby achieve a “universal civil society” (8:22).41

1.2.4  The “Most Difficult and Last” Problem to be “Solved by the Human Species” As if to assure us that his faith in moral progress is not too utopian, Kant again turns his attention to obstacles that stand in the way of our ever in fact achieving a universal cosmopolitan condition. Insofar as we live among others of our kind, we are animals in need of a “master” (8:23). We need a master because we are not perfectly rational animals. In interacting with others, we frequently ignore reason’s commands and act from “selfish animal inclination [selbstsüchtige tierische Neigung]” (8:23). We thus require a master to force us to “obey a universally valid will, in order that everyone can be free” (8:23). From what do we get that master? If taking credit for moral progress is to be possible for us, we must discover the master within ourselves. Indeed, Kant asserts that the master is nothing other than our faculty of reason, and this is precisely the problem. The problem is the “most difficult” to be solved, he tells us, because the very capacity we must rely on for our perfection is a capacity whose commands we routinely ignore. A “complete solution [to this problem] is impossible”, he writes, for out of the “crooked timber [krummem Holze]” of which the human species is made, “nothing perfectly straight can be built” (8:23). Although Kant remarks here that a complete solution is impossible, he lays out further conditions that must be in place if we are to secure a universal cosmopolitan condition. We need experience passed down through history as well as the right conception of a possible constitution. We need, in addition, human wills good enough to honor such a constitution. Because the peace and security of a single nation is tied to its relation to other nations, we furthermore cannot secure a moral whole without stable and harmonious international relations. In the words of the Seventh Thesis, the “problem of establishing a perfect civic constitution is dependent upon the problem of a lawful external relation among states”. Nature intended that individual nations “enter into a federation of peoples” in order to preserve the rights of separate nations. But there is no escaping the

41  In “Conjectural Beginning”, Kant sometimes seems in complete agreement with Rousseau: “The history of nature”, he writes, “begins with good, for it is God’s work; the history of freedom begins with wickedness, for it is the work of man” (8:115). We thus begin in paradise but then suffer the “fall” (8:115). But Kant goes on to argue that although the transition out of paradise must be considered a “loss” for the individual, it results in the case of the species in “progress toward perfection”. In a remark likely intended to challenge Rousseau, Kant warns against the “nihilism” of the wish to return to an “original state” (8:122f.).

30  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit fundamental obstacle to achieving a universal cosmopolitan condition, namely the imperfect nature of our reason.42

1.2.5  Justifying the Idea of Human History Kant’s Eighth Thesis summarizes what we have just seen is the ultimate goal of nature’s plan, which is to achieve a perfectly constituted state: The history of mankind can be seen, in the large, as the realization of Nature’s secret plan to bring forth a perfectly constituted state as the only condition in which the capacities of mankind can be fully developed, and also bring forth that external relation among states which is perfectly adequate to this end.

This is the place to turn our attention to the question: how does Kant think he is able to justify this and the other theses of “Idea”? I want to suggest that his answer to this question gives us further evidence of his sensitivity to human finitude. In this case, the finitude under consideration is epistemological rather than moral. That is, it concerns not our moral imperfections but rather the limits to what we can know. In his 1786 essay “Conjectural Beginning of Human History”, published two years after “Idea”, Kant explicitly states that if a history of the progress of freedom is to be grounded at all, it has to be empirically grounded—­that is, “grounded on reports or records [Nachrichten]” (8:109).43 Sometimes, he indeed seems optimistic about the prospects of defending his claims empirically. In his discussion of the First Thesis of “Idea”, for instance, he writes that “observation confirms

42  As Kant writes at (8:22), nature’s “highest purpose [höchste Absicht]” is to insure the “development of all the capacities which can be achieved by the human species” and thereby achieve a “universal civil society”. (See for similar remarks, CJ §83 [432f.].) He is most concerned, of course, about the development of our moral capacity, our capacity of practical reason. The final end of history, then, is the achievement of what is effectively a “kingdom of ends” on earth. Nature seeks the realization of a “perfectly constituted state”, in his view, because such a state is necessary for the achievement of the final moral end. This point that the final end of history is for Kant a moral end (the achievement of moral agency) is persuasively defended by Pauline Kleingeld in “Kant’s Changing Cosmopolitanism”. In Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 172. 43  Kant remarks that, where no reports or records are available, the historian must fill in the gaps. Insofar as she does so by relying on historical clues, her “conjectures [Mutmaßungen]” are “permissible [erlaubt]” (8:109). As exercises of imagination, however, conjectures are “no match for history”, in Kant’s words. Nonetheless, they are legitimate if they are supported by clues “rationally derived from experience” (8:110). It is not permissible for the historian to indulge in “mere fiction [bloßen Erdichtung]”, that is, in conjectures that have no basis in historical evidence (8:109). Kant contends that his own “conjectural” account of the beginning of human history is not a case of mere fiction, because he relies on an argument from analogy. He draws on what experience has taught him about human nature, and he projects that knowledge back to the beginning of human history, presupposing that, in the beginning, humans were essentially “no better and no worse” than they are now (8:109).

History and Human Finitude  31 [bestätigt]” the thesis that there is evidence of purpose in nature. In particular, observation confirms the assumption that the natural predispositions of animals are “determined sometime to develop themselves completely and purposively” (8:18). In his discussion of the Eighth Thesis, he adds that we have good historical grounds for expecting that “enlightenment will gradually arise” for the human species, enlightenment that is manifested in principles of government (8:28). He supports this remark by noting that, over time, humanity has discovered the ill effects of hindering freedom. Humanity has come to recognize that: [i]f one hinders the citizen from pursuing his well-­being in whatever ways consistent with the freedom of others he chooses, one hampers the liveliness of enterprise generally and, along with it, the powers [Kräfte] of the whole (8:28).

Finally, in “The Strife of the Faculties”, published in 1798, Kant mentions an inspirational event of his time (the French Revolution) that he thinks warrants him in predicting the “progress” of the human race “towards the better” (7:88). Elsewhere, however, Kant concedes that the prospects for empirically justifying his claims are dim. In “Idea”, he remarks that history provides only “a little [etwas Weniges]” support for his thesis that humanity is morally progressing (8:27). Although history instructs us that there has been “regular progress” in the constitution of states on the European continent at least since the Greeks, the history of the human species covers a long span of time, and humanity has so far occupied only a brief period of it. No certain conclusions can be drawn about the whole, given that we have observed only a small part of that whole (8:27). In “Strife”, Kant notes that even did we possess historical evidence of past progress, this would not allow us to predict future actions with “certainty”. Past events warrant us in predicting future similar events only on the assumption that we will encounter similar circumstances in the future, but we cannot know in advance that similar circumstances will prevail. The best we can do, he says, is calculate probabilities (7:84).44 These difficulties attending the collection of solid empirical evidence, however, pale in comparison to what is the most insuperable obstacle to justifying Kant’s theses regarding the progress and purpose of world history. The problem is not just that the past is not an object of direct observation, nor is it that inductive evidence is incapable of yielding “certainty”. There is a more fundamental difficulty—­one that derives from the nature of the objects under investigation. For Kant, the idea that human history unfolds in accordance with nature’s plan or 44  In “Strife”, Kant identifies further problems connected with our efforts to predict the course of history. Because human agents are not perfectly rational, we cannot predict that they will always do what they ought to do (7:83). Because there is a “mixture of good and evil” in the predisposition of human agents, we cannot predict “with certainty [mit Sicherheit]” the “progress” of the human species “toward the better” (7:84).

32  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit purpose is a thesis no empirical investigation (no matter how flawless) could justify. This is for reasons we considered earlier. The concept of nature’s plan or purpose is an “idea” in his technical sense, that is, it is a concept for which “no object can be given in experience” (CJ § 77 [344f.]). As he writes in “Strife”, the “problem of progress is not to be settled directly through experience” (7:83).45 The same consideration applies to the thesis that we possess a special faculty of reason in virtue of which we are warranted in taking credit for our good works (8:20). Given Kant’s particular conception of this faculty, it, too, is not a proper object of empirical inquiry. In “Idea”, he describes the function of reason as that of “extending” the “rules and aims . . . of natural instinct” (8:18). He has more to say about the special nature of this power in “Conjectural Beginning”, where he remarks that our reason is “a power that can extend itself beyond the limits to which all animals are confined” (8:111). In its practical application, reason is the power of free choice (8:112). Thanks to the fact that we possess this faculty, we are ultimately responsible for our actions, whether good or evil (8:20, 115). We have this capacity, Kant writes in his 1794 essay “The End of All Things”, as creatures who may be thought of as having a “supersensible [übersinnlicher]” nature, that is, as creatures who are free in the sense of “not standing under conditions of time” (8:327). In “Strife”, Kant notes that experience can never furnish evidence that we possess such a faculty (7:85, 91). As he puts it, the idea of a “moral cause” (a cause that is “undetermined with regard to time”) can only be “established purely a priori” (7:84, 91).46

45  According to Walsh in The Philosophy of History, it follows from the fact that the idea of nature’s “secret plan” is not for Kant susceptible to empirical confirmation, that we should regard his philosophical approach to history as “external”, 129. In Walsh’s words, Kant insists upon a “complete gulf ” between the “activity of the historian discovering facts about the past and that of the philosopher devising a point of view from which sense can be made of them”, 127. Walsh asserts that this “external” approach is rejected not just by Herder but also by Hegel, 135. Walsh seems to me correct in making this latter claim, but it is curious that he later remarks that Hegel’s philosophy of history, like Kant’s, suffers from the defect that it is too a prioristic, 151f. 46  Kant therefore takes exception to the efforts of those such as Herder who (on his interpretation) set out to provide a thoroughly naturalistic explanation of the origin and development of human freedom. In his first review of Herder’s 1784 “Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichte der Menschheit”, Kant argues that Herder deserves criticism for tracing the emergence of freedom to the “upright form” or posture of human beings (8:49) and for suggesting that the soul is a kind of “material force” (8:50). For recent discussions of the Kant–­Herder relationship, see in addition to the works I have already mentioned: John H. Zammito’s comprehensive study, Kant, Herder, and the Birth of Anthropology (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2002); Karl Ameriks’s papers, “History, Progress and Autonomy: Kant, Herder, and After”, in Kant and the Possibility of Progress: Essays on the History of German Philosophy, eds S.  Stoner and P.  Wilford (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2020), and “Kant’s Fateful Reviews of Herder’s Ideas”, in Kant’s Elliptical Path (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), Chapter  12, 221–237; Allen Wood, “Herder and Kant on History: Their Enlightenment Faith”, in Metaphysics and the Good: Themes from the Philosophy of Robert Merrihew Adams, eds S.  Newlands and L.  M.  Jorgensen (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 313–342; Rachel Zuckert, “History, Biology, and Philosophical Anthropology in Kant and Herder”, in Internationales Jahrbuch des Deutschen Idealismus/International Yearbook of German Idealism 8, eds F. Rush and J. Stolzenberg (Berlin and Boston: Walter de Gruyter Verlag, 2010): 38–59.

History and Human Finitude  33 In light of these remarks, we can make sense of Kant’s insistence in “Idea” that his thesis that human history is developing according to a plan and in the direction of moral improvement is the contribution of a “philosophischen Kopf ” rather than of a proper historian (8:29). The task of gathering empirical evidence in support of his theses is not central to his project; he does not set out in “Idea” to displace the achievements of a “properly empirical history” (8:30). Instead, Kant informs us that he is engaged in a “philosophical attempt to work out a universal history of the world”. He brings to his world history a certain perspective—­one that supplies a “guiding thread” with which it is possible to represent the apparently “planless aggregate” of human actions “as a whole, a system” (8:30). Crucially, however, he does not take it to follow from fact that his theses in “Idea” are not susceptible to empirical confirmation that they lack justification entirely. As he states in the Ninth Thesis, the idea of world history as progressing according to nature’s plan “must be seen as possible and even as contributing to this end” (8:29). But just how is the idea “possible”, in Kant’s view, and in what way does he think it contributes to nature’s plan? Minimally, the idea of world history as progressing in conformity with nature’s plan is “possible” in that it is not self-­ contradictory. Although the idea cannot in the end be supported by empirical evidence, it is surely thinkable or intelligible. In identifying the idea as “possible” here, however, Kant very likely means to indicate that the idea is plausible as well. The idea can be neither empirically confirmed nor refuted, strictly speaking, but it is nonetheless compatible with what we may so far take history to teach us about the course of human affairs. The idea of world historical progress is thus neither unintelligible nor obviously in conflict with the empirical facts. We should not fail to notice that there is an important further respect in which the idea of nature’s plan “must be seen as possible”, according to Kant. His reflections on human events are those of a philosopher rather than of a proper historian, but this by no means implies that they are idle exercises of a thinker indulging in frivolous mind games. Kant notes in his Ninth Thesis that his philosophical treatment of history provides “motivation [Bewegungsgrund]” for “choosing” a particular perspective on the world (8:30). His idea of nature’s plan allows us to hope that the “completed rational aim” will be realized in this world and not just in “another world” (8:30). It inspires our faith in something approximating a paradise on earth, that is, in the eventual completion of “nature’s secret plan” to realize “a perfectly constituted state” (8:27). In this respect, Kant’s “Idea for a universal history from a cosmopolitan point of view” gives us a “consoling perspective on the future [tröstende Aussicht in die Zukunft]” (8:30).47 47  The idea of nature’s plan is clearly intended to inspire in us hope for the complete realization of that plan in this world. But on Kant’s own account, we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that this hope is for an end we can never achieve. Although we are capable of learning from our past mistakes

34  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit We are therefore warranted in concluding that the ultimate “justification [Rechtfertigung]” of the idea is practical, for Kant (8:30). The idea is practically justified not merely because it encourages in us an optimistic outlook and thereby supplies a welcome psychological benefit. It is practically justified, in addition, because this benefit can yield the right kind of behavior. Here we have Kant’s explanation for how the belief that humanity is morally progressing has the potential to promote nature’s plan for progress.48 It can do so to the extent that it inspires individual agents including sovereigns to make wise choices—­choices that serve the interests of moral progress (8:31). In this way, the idea of a hidden plan of nature can assist in the “realization [Herbeiführung]” of a paradise on earth (8:27).49

1.2.6 Conclusion Our main goal in this section has been to call attention to the way in which Kant’s treatment of history in “Idea” rests on a keen sensitivity to the reality of human finitude. I have highlighted two principal respects in which this is so. First, he holds that we are morally imperfect or finite. We do not always heed the laws of practical reason; we sometimes subordinate its commands to “selfish animal inclination [selbstsüchtige tierische Neigung]” (8:23). Unlike perfectly rational creatures who necessarily will the good, we are animals in need of a master. Given that the very capacity we must rely on for our perfection—­reason—­is a capacity whose commands we frequently ignore, we must contend with a problem whose “complete solution is impossible” (8:23). Second, Kant is persuaded that there are insuperable constraints on our capacity for knowledge. His idea of human nature as free, as capable of escaping the determinations of natural forces, and of acting from a “moral cause”, is an idea of pure reason; as such, it is strictly speaking unknowable from a scientific or theoretical point of view. The same is true of the

and of developing our reason, no amount of education can free us of our imperfect rationality. As Susan Shell puts it, progress for Kant “remains a hope rather than a realized certainty”; “man’s full humanity is assured, albeit only in another world to come”. In “Kant’s Idea of History”, in Hegel and the Idea of Progress, eds A. Melzer, J. Weinberger and M. Zinman (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1995), 93. 48  In Kant’s German, the belief “kann für diese Naturabsicht beförderlich abgesehen werden” (8:29). 49  As Kant remarks at (8:27), the idea can give philosophy its “millennialism [Chiliasmus]” and therefore inspire belief in a paradise or Golden Age on earth. As he writes in “Conjectural Beginning”, it is of the “utmost importance” that we should be “content” with the ways of Providence, because this allows us to “gather courage even in the midst of toils” (8:121). In “Strife of the Faculties”, he observes that even should humanity’s goal of achieving a “republican constitution” miscarry, the idea of a perfect state “would still lose none of its force” (7:88). The idea is itself too important not to instruct and influence our behavior. Manfred Kuhn is among those who take Kant to imply in remarks such as these that it is our duty to bring about the moral improvement of the human race, and that the “Idea” essay has a moral dimension in this respect. In “Reason as a Species Characteristic”, 70.

History and Human Finitude  35 idea that humanity is morally progressing in conformity with nature’s plan or purpose. This, too, is an assumption not susceptible to empirical confirmation; it is a product of speculation or faith. From these points, we can conclude that the scope and depth of human finitude, for Kant, is far-­reaching. It is hardly surprising, then, that he is commonly portrayed as a philosopher profoundly sensitive to the reality of our finitude.50

1.3  Comparing Kant and Hegel on World History: Points of Intersection Since we have not yet considered Hegel’s philosophy of history in any detail, the most we can do in this section is anticipate points of agreement between his views and Kant’s. This will prepare the way for a more thorough consideration of these matters beginning in Chapter  2. For all their differences, the two philosophers share many key assumptions. Kant and Hegel each set out to provide a history of reason. For each, the concept of history implies not just change over time, but development. To claim that an object develops versus merely changes is to claim that it is possible to detect a certain pattern in the change, a pattern connecting the various episodes of change. To discover development is therefore to discover coherence rather than arbitrary connection, that is, connection governed by blind chance. As Kant writes, we can only provide a history or “narration [Erzählung]” of something if we discover evidence in it of “regular movement” (8:17). Kant and Hegel agree, too, that the idea that human events are connected by more than chance presupposes that those events are connected by an underlying design or purpose. Human history cannot be accounted for simply with reference to natural mechanical forces. We must avail ourselves, in addition, of a teleological approach. That is, we need to explain the objects of our investigation with the help of a causality of purposes. Indeed, both philosophers set out to persuade us that there are good reasons for taking a teleological approach to nature as a whole.51 For both, however, the philosophy of history confines its attention to human nature in particular. Moreover, for Hegel as well as Kant, the philosophy of history takes as its object a particular kind of human history. It does not investigate the natural development of human nature. It does not concern itself, for 50 In Kant and the Philosophy of History, Yovel for instance describes Kant’s “realization of the finitude of reason” as his “great achievement”, 24. The portrayal of Kant as a philosopher of finitude is by no means confined to his contributions in the practical domain. His theoretical philosophy is often characterized as stressing the extent of our finitude as well. To cite one relatively recent example, see Rae Langton’s Kantian Humility: Our Ignorance of Things in Themselves (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998). 51  I elaborate on this point in Chapter 3, section 3.2.

36  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit instance, with whether humans have been getting taller or shorter over time, or whether we are living longer, or whether new “races” are emerging. For both philosophers, the object of the philosophy of history is instead “moral” history.52 A philosophical approach to history seeks answers to questions such as: Is the human race progressing morally or is it regressing towards greater wickedness? Is humanity perhaps neither progressing nor regressing but merely stagnating, from a moral point of view? To put this latter point differently, both Kant and Hegel identify the human will as the proper object of the philosophy of history. Kant is explicit about this already in the first paragraph of “Idea”. His “narration”, he writes there: permits us to hope that if we attend to the play of freedom of the human will in the large, we may be able to discern a regular movement in it, and that what seems complex and chaotic in the single individual may be seen from the standpoint of the human race as a whole to be a steady and progressive though slow evolution of its original endowment.  (8:17; my emphasis)

For Hegel, too, the “substance [Substanz]” of world history is the human will. It is “Spirit [Geist]” whose “essence [Wesen]” is freedom (PH 19f./29f.). In the above passage from “Idea”, Kant indicates that his historical narrative will ultimately be a hopeful one. He will defend the view that, overall, human nature has been progressing from mere animality to morality (or, as he sometimes puts it, from “barbarism to culture” (8:21)). As I mentioned, Hegel is convinced that humanity is making moral progress as well. But although the two philosophers paint an ultimately optimistic picture of human nature in its moral development, neither suggests that we can simply take this progress for granted. Neither is convinced, in other words, that there is an obvious answer to the question whether humanity is progressing. Each argues that what makes the matter so difficult is our special animal nature, in particular, our capacity for freedom. The question of progress does not arise for other animal natures. As Kant points out, “bees and beavers” are governed solely by instinct and therefore lack the power of free choice. A sober look at human history, however, reveals not just the choices of human animals but the morally corrupt choices. This is why in the eyes of Kant as well as Hegel, episodes of human history give us grounds for despair. As Kant writes in the opening paragraphs of “Idea”: “One does not know what to expect of the human race” (8:18). Hegel voices a similar sentiment in a passage from his Introduction to the Philosophy of History: “When we look at this drama of human passions . . . we can only be filled with grief for all that has come to nothing” (PH 23f./34).

52  Kant explicitly distinguishes “moral” from “natural” history in “Strife” (7:79).

History and Human Finitude  37 But as I noted a moment ago, the two philosophers nevertheless defend an ultimately optimistic message. There is much agreement, too, in how they understand the basic drivers of moral progress. Each maintains that it is conflict that to a significant degree propels human nature from “barbarism to culture”. As we saw in our discussion of the Fourth Thesis of “Idea”, Kant identifies as the ultimate source of conflict the presence in our nature of unsocial tendencies. It is our “unsocial sociability” that explains why we compete for the satisfaction of our psychological as well as physical needs. Unsocial sociability is an engine of progress because “vainglory, lust for power, and avarice” awaken and stimulate our natural powers, including our power of reason (8:21). Conflict is an engine of progress for Hegel as well. He describes history as a “struggle of passions [ein Kampf der Leidenschaften]” (PH 38/52). Like Kant, he stresses the productive resources even of war. War has an “ethical” nature, he writes in the Philosophy of Right, insofar as it serves as an engine of moral progress (PR §324). The two philosophers acknowledge, in addition, that the larger forces of progress are to a significant extent hidden from individual agents. As Kant writes in the first paragraph of “Idea”, what to individuals may seem “complex and chaotic” in the course of human affairs, may have a larger purpose unknown to those individuals (8:17). The forces that move us to compete rather than cooperate may serve larger ends of which we are not aware. The “standpoint of Providence”, he observes in “Strife”, is “situated beyond all human wisdom” (7:83).53 In Hegel’s philosophy of history, the idea that the ways of Providence are in certain respects unknown to us shows up in his references to the “cunning of reason [List der Vernunft]” (PH 35/49). In specific clashes among individuals and among nations, we are likely to be unaware of the “universal idea” that remains “in the background [im Hintergrund]”. The cunning of reason “allows the passions to work for it”, and it works in ways that tend to be hidden from individual agents (PH 35/49).54 It is worth highlighting two further similarities in the philosophies of history of Kant and Hegel. First, the two philosophers seem to share certain methodological assumptions. Each describes his approach as a priori in one respect and empirical or historical in another. As we saw, Kant asserts that his idea of history reflects the actual facts; he points to real historical events in support of his thesis of progress. He nonetheless insists, however, that his idea of human history is 53  At the beginning of the Eighth Thesis of “Idea”, Kant describes the plan of nature as “secret [verborgenen]”. In his Ninth Thesis, he claims that we are “near-­sighted [kurzsichtig]” as far as our insight into that plan is concerned (8:29). Yovel is right to point out that Kant does not mean by this that we are in every instance unwittingly propelled forward in history by forces of nature. Unsocial sociability awakens our power of reason. Once awakened, reason makes conscious choices, choices that in turn influence the course of history. To this extent, as Yovel puts it, Kant considers history to be the “conscious work of practical reason”. In Kant and the Philosophy of History, 31. 54  In PR, Hegel describes states, nations, and individuals as “unconscious instruments [bewußtlose Werkzeuge]” of world Spirit (§344).

38  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit strictly speaking an object of speculation or faith. His thesis that history is progressing in accordance with nature’s purposes is an idea in his technical sense; it is a product of reason and as such a priori. Its object transcends the realm of human experience and is therefore nowhere to be discovered in experience. As he says, his idea of history is ultimately the idea of a philosopher, not of a proper historian. Its justification must in the end appeal to its possible practical advantages such as its effectiveness in furthering the course of human freedom. Hegel’s approach, too, combines a priori and empirical elements. He follows Kant in insisting that his reflections on history are those of a philosopher, and that he does not aim to displace the work of the historian. At the same time, Hegel rejects philosophical approaches to history that are unduly abstract. He endorses the historian’s obligation to “apprehend the historical faithfully” (PH 14/23). Like Kant, Hegel seeks to satisfy the at least apparently incompatible demands of being true to his a priori idea of history, on the one hand, and of accurately reflecting the facts, on the other. At least on the surface, then, there are these methodological similarities. Beginning in Chapter 2, we will look more closely at Hegel’s method and draw out subtle ways in which his hybrid approach differs from Kant’s. Although subtle, the differences are significant. They contain important clues to how we should try to solve the larger puzzle we posed in the first pages of this chapter regarding how to assess their respective accounts of the nature and extent of our finitude. Turning, now, to the second further point of similarity: Kant and Hegel appear to be in agreement about what our attitude should be in the face of all that is unpleasant or even horrific in human history. First, both endorse what may be described as a reality principle. That is, both urge us to confront rather than ignore the ugly facts of world history. But although each urges us to accept reality as it is, each assumes, second, that we can be comforted by the idea that whatever happens to us is somehow and in the long run for the best. As Kant says, nature knows what is best for us; she does nothing in vain. If, in the face of great atrocities, this thesis strikes us as absurd, we betray our ignorance—­at least at the local level. From our limited vantage point, the purposes of nature (or God) are not always obvious. This is Hegel’s view of the matter as well, as we saw a moment ago. The “cunning of reason” works in ways that are largely hidden from individual agents (PH 35/49). It is foolish of us to expect to understand the meaning or purpose behind every event. Both philosophers moreover insist upon the importance of our taking responsibility for our actions. Nature governs human history according to her purposes, and one of her purposes is to endow us with reason and the capacity for freedom. Because nature gave us reason, we bear the burden for our agency and therefore for the evil as well as good in history. Kant explicitly makes this point in the final remarks of his “Conjectural Beginning of Human History”. History teaches us that humanity:

History and Human Finitude  39 must not blame Providence [Vorsehung] for the evils that oppress it, nor is it justified in attributing its own transgression to an original sin committed by its first parents [Stammeltern] . . . [History teaches that] under like circumstances, humankind would act exactly like its first parents, that is, abuse reason in the very first use of reason . . . Hence humanity must recognize what it has done as its own act, and thus blame only itself for the evils that spring from the abuse [Mißbrauch] of reason.  (8:123)

We find similar passages in Hegel’s works, for example, in his Introduction to the Philosophy of History. He insists there upon the responsibility we all carry for “ethical and religious deterioration”, for “evil” as well as for “good” (PH 36f./50f.).55 Like Kant, Hegel is an uncompromising champion of human freedom who urges us to answer for all that our freedom entails.

1.4  Hegel versus Kant on World History We move on, now, to consider central respects in which Kant and Hegel part ways. One significant difference, as I have mentioned, is epistemological. Although they agree that individual agents are largely ignorant of the purposes of nature at work, only Kant declares that nature’s purposes are necessarily unknowable for finite intellects like ours. In stark contrast, Hegel aims to convince us that the philosopher reflecting on the general course of history can know what nature (or God or Providence) has in store for us. The idea of history that for Kant is ultimately an item of speculation or faith, is somehow for Hegel a proper object of our knowledge. The second key difference concerns the two philosophers’ assessments of the prospects of realizing the idea of history. Kant takes it to be an implication of our finitude that the complete realization of the good on earth necessarily exceeds our grasp. For imperfectly rational beings like us, the “ought” can never fully become an “is”. Hegel, however, is famous (or, some would say, infamous) for insisting upon the “rationality” of what is “actual”.56 He challenges the Kantian assumption that perfection is something we can never completely attain. In a typical remark in his Introduction to his Philosophy of History, he informs us that, “Reason is not so powerless [ohnmächtig] so as to arrive at nothing more than the ideal” (PH 12/21). 55  See also Hegel’s Encyclopaedia Logic where he criticizes the proposal that we shift the blame for our actions onto someone or something else. When we do this, we adopt a “standpoint of unfreedom” (EL §147A). 56  In his Introduction to PH, Hegel writes that (actual) world history has been “the rational, necessary course of world Spirit” (PH 13/22). See also his Preface to the Philosophy of Right (20/24) and EL §6.

40  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit The differences between these two philosophers are of course more interesting than the points of convergence; perhaps unsurprisingly, the differences are also far more difficult to accurately identify and explain. On the face of it, Hegel’s departure from Kant in the two respects I just mentioned seems puzzling if not wholly implausible. Since we cannot hope to grasp his philosophical approach to history and theory of freedom unless we are clear on his precise reasons for parting with Kant in each of these two respects, a central task of the chapters to come will be to identify those reasons and draw out their significance. Below, and in anticipation of the ground we will cover, I make some preliminary observations on the differences.

1.4.1  On the Knowability of the Idea of History Our main objective in this chapter has been to compare Kant and Hegel with respect to their sensitivity to human finitude. In light of the characterization I just provided, the task seems readily discharged. It surely must be Kant who exhibits the greater sensitivity, given his sober assessment of the limits of our knowledge, and given Hegel’s apparent recommendation that we ignore those limits. It is Kant, after all, who urges us to strictly observe the boundary between scientific knowledge and faith. In contrast, when Hegel asserts that the purposive development of human history can be known by us, he seems intent upon removing that boundary altogether.57 But there are good reasons for supposing that Hegel would resist this portrayal of his position. Indeed, he suggests that it is in fact those who defend the unknowability thesis who are guilty of vanity and immodesty. He makes this point in the following revealing passage from his Introduction to the Lectures on the Philosophy of History: When the Divine Being is placed beyond the reach of our knowing and beyond human affairs altogether, we gain the convenience of indulging in our own imaginings. We are thereby excused from having to give our knowledge some relation to the Divine and the True. On the contrary, the vanity of human knowledge and subjective feeling receives a complete justification for itself. And when pious humility places the knowing God at a distance, it knows full well what it has thereby gained for its arbitrariness and vain efforts.  (PH 17/27)

This passage is revealing for a number of reasons. Notice, first, that Hegel discovers hypocrisy in those who preach “pious humility [fromme Demut]”. In declaring 57  As Yovel puts it, Hegel “abolishes” the finitude of human reason. In Kant and the Philosophy of History, 306.

History and Human Finitude  41 that the finite human intellect cannot know God, the pious grant themselves permission to think what they please. In a not-­so-­humble manner, they over-­indulge their creative or imaginative powers. Hegel condemns this position as not just hypocritical and self-­indulgent but as potentially dangerous. The thesis that God is unknowable is dangerous, because those who deny that their ideas are instances of knowledge save themselves the trouble of justification.58 They need not subject their belief or faith to any external test. In subsequent chapters, it will become clear that Hegel was convinced that the unknowability thesis is responsible for further trouble as well. In particular, he charges that the thesis has problematic implications for our freedom. This is a complicated story, the intricacies of which we will need to explore in what is to come, but its general shape is as follows: Kant argues not just that God and Providence are unknowable, but that our freedom is unknowable as well and for the same reason. As in the case of the concepts of God and Providence, its object is nowhere to be discovered in nature. Strictly speaking, the idea of freedom refers to a capacity that cannot be attributed to us as creatures of this actual realm; it is a capacity we possess as “noumenal” subjects, that is, as subjects capable of extra-­ temporal causal powers. Simply put, Hegel rejects the metaphysical assumptions upon which this idea of freedom rests. The idea depends, he thinks, on an implausible bifurcation of our empirical and noumenal natures; it attributes to us a power of reason that is “pure” and as such to no extent indebted for its concepts and laws to nature or history. Although Kant grants that real events in human history have a role to play in awakening or activating our ideas, real events in history are on his account to no extent responsible either for the source of our ideas or for their meaning or content. It is pure reason, not experience, that fixes that content.59 A thesis I will be defending throughout this study is that Hegel doubts that there could be ideas or concepts that are a priori in this Kantian sense. Expressed differently, he calls into question Kant’s specific account of the a priori, and with it, Kant’s conception of the nature of our reason. As I will argue, human reason, and with it our idea of freedom, is for Hegel to a significant extent subject to forces of nature and history. World history cannot be represented simply as the

58  Hegel expresses this point in more abbreviated form in the Preface to PR: “If reflection, feeling, or whatever form the subjective consciousness may assume” looks beyond the present “in a spirit of superior knowledge”, it is “itself mere vanity [Eitelkeit]”, 20/25. Hegel directs the charge of vanity at Kant’s theoretical philosophy, too, in particular, at the claim that we cannot know things in themselves. I expand on this issue in section 2.2 of Chapter 2. 59 In Kant and the Philosophy of History, Yovel resists the suggestion that the forms of reason, for Kant, are “ready-­made”. In doing, so, however, he means to challenge the suggestion that they are pre-­ established by God or nature rather than by “the rational subject”, 4. Yovel argues that Kant is committed to the assumption that reason must constitute itself; its forms are not fully developed from the start but have a history. Note, however, that he describes the development of Kantian reason as the development of its “latent paradigm”, 6.

42  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit story of how the unchangeable part of our nature exerts ever greater control over the changeable part. Events occurring in nature and history have a role to play in bringing about advances in human reason itself—­in its development as a capacity and in in its concepts and ideas. There is, for Hegel, no wholly “pure” reason and likewise no “noumenal” freedom. Our thoughts, like our passions, are to a significant extent anchored in this actual world, and our idea of freedom is not settled in advance.60 Although I will expand upon and defend this interpretation of Hegel in the course of this study, I want to take a moment to provide a preliminary piece of evidence in its favor. In a passage from his Introduction to the Philosophy of History, Hegel makes the Kantian-­sounding assertion that individuals “have to be regarded as ends in themselves”; they are more than mere means to be moved about by outside forces (PH 36/50). He goes on to add, however, that individuals are “not ends in themselves in the merely formal sense” (my emphasis). The plan of history, he observes, is part of the “self-­activating” and “self-­determining” power of our reason, but the goals of reason are not “external” (PH 36/50). Instead, individuals pursuing their “particular interests” “have a part” to play in determining the rational end. What happens on the ground, Hegel seems to be telling us, has implications not just for the application of rational norms, but for their very nature and for Providence itself. Although the historian is most interested in recording what happens at the collective level, individuals pursuing their “particular interests” have to be considered as active participants in shaping the idea and course of world history.

1.4.2  On the Realizability of the Idea of History So much for what I am calling Hegel’s “epistemological” departure from Kant. The second difference, as I mentioned, concerns how the two philosophers assess the prospects of realizing the idea of world history. As we have seen, Kant tells us that his idea of history is ultimately a “consoling view [tröstende Aussicht]” of the future. That future is one in which: the human race finally achieves the condition in which all the seeds planted in it by Nature can fully develop and in which the destiny of the race can be fulfilled here on earth.  (8:30)

60 This point has been stressed by many others. For two relatively recent examples, see Terry Pinkard’s “Historicism, Social Practice, and Sustainability: Some Themes in Hegelian Ethical Theory”, in Neue Hefte für Philosophie 35 (1995), esp. 57, and in the same volume, Robert Pippin’s “Hegel on the Rationality and Priority of Ethical Life”, 119, 122.

History and Human Finitude  43 But Kant insists, in addition, that this future will never arrive. We are animals in need of a master. We get that master, he argues, from our reason. As imperfect creatures, however, our reason issues commands we can never be fully expected to obey. We are imperfectly rational natures because we are not wholly rational natures. We in fact serve two separate masters, neither of which can take on the properties and functions of the other. We are rational natures, but we are also animal natures, and we frequently give our “animal impulses” the upper hand. It is not possible for us to extinguish those impulses because this would be equivalent to extinguishing our animality itself. To recall Kant’s memorable words, we are “crooked timber [krummem Holze]” out of which “nothing perfectly straight can be built” (8:23).61 Kant argues, then, that the task of perfectly realizing the idea of a universal cosmopolitan history must remain unfulfilled, and no “complete solution” to the two-­master problem is possible (8:23). As he puts the point in his Religion Within the Limits of Reason Alone (1794), there is an “infinite [unendlich]” distance “separating the good which we ought to effect in ourselves from the evil”. The “act . . . of conforming our course of life to the holiness of the law”, he continues, “is at no time achievable [in keiner Zeit erreichbar]” (6:66).62 In the eyes of many, this somber Kantian doctrine accurately reflects the reality of the human condition. The Hegelian alternative, in contrast, seems wildly implausible, for Hegel boldly proclaims that “world history has been rational in its course” (PH 12/20). As commonly interpreted, he appears committed to the thesis that the ideal is already fully actual. He seems to hold that this world—­the Kingdom of ‘Man’—is in its present state a perfect realization of the Kingdom of God. On this reading, Hegel is all too willing to ignore the reality of human imperfection and misery.63 As should by now be obvious, I am going to argue that whatever else it implies, the Hegelian position does not require us to overlook or trivialize the flaws of our nature. Hegel’s insistence upon the rationality of the actual is not a bit of wishful thinking that rests on ignorance of the ample instances throughout world history of humans choosing evil over good. Instead, his basis for rejecting the Kantian account of the unrealizability of perfection is ultimately the same as his basis for rejecting the epistemological thesis. As we will see, Hegel wants us to appreciate 61  For two recent discussions of Kant’s commitment to the thesis of humanity’s essential fallenness, see Rüdiger Bittner, “Philosophy Helps History” in Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2009), 231–249, and in the same volume, J. B. Schneewind’s “Good Our of Evil: Kant and the Idea of Unsocial Sociability”, 94–111. 62  This point is emphasized by Yovel in Kant and the Philosophy of History, who describes the ideal for Kant as “infinitely distant” or “remote”, 53, 68. 63  Susan Shell seems to defend this view of Hegel in her fine, “Kant’s Idea of History”. In her words, Kant thankfully does not take the “Hegelian plunge” because he does not endorse the Hegelian conception of a “spirit that is no longer . . . altogether human”, 95.

44  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit the extent to which our ideas or ideals have their origin and derive their meaning from this realm, from the realm of the actual. This view of the origin of our ideas gives us better resources, I suggest, for interpreting his claim about the rationality of the actual. Rather than turn a blind eye to the unsavory realities of human history, Hegel means to challenge Kantian assumptions about ideas or concepts that presumably emerge from a reason considered to be absolutely pure. As he writes in his Preface to the Philosophy of Right, philosophy is the “exploration of the rational” and “for that very reason [eben damit] the comprehension of the present and the actual” (my emphasis) (20/24). On the interpretation I will defend, Hegel in other words asks us to treat with skepticism assumptions about ideas or concepts that in no way reflect—­and hence are in no way indebted to or anchored in—­the realities of this actual, ever-­changing and imperfect world.

2

Hegel’s “Philosophic” Approach to World History In comparing the philosophies of history of Kant and Hegel in the previous chapter, I noted that both approaches draw on empirical as well as a priori resources. This is one important respect in which the two approaches are similar. But I also suggested that the similarity is superficial at best. For both philosophers, history’s aim is to relay the facts; history is distinct from fiction or fantasy. As we saw in Chapter  1, Kant is persuaded that his ideas of progress and purpose in history conform to the available empirical evidence; he nonetheless also asserts that their ultimate justification must be a priori. I suggested that in Hegel’s case the relation between the empirical and a priori elements of a philosophy of history is more intimate than this. For Hegel, it is not that the justification for our idea of history is a priori even though empirical evidence can be cited in its favor. Rather, Hegel means to call into question Kant’s account of the very nature of the a priori. Expressed differently, he rejects the extent to which Kant is committed to the assumption that we have special concepts that originate in a faculty of reason that is absolutely pure. Hegel in other words challenges the particular way in which Kant separates or distinguishes what is empirical from what is pure or purely a priori.64 It is this challenge that underlies Hegel’s apparently hyperbolic remarks about the rationality of the actual, and about the knowability of purpose in history. At bottom, he doubts that there could be ideals or concepts that in no way reflect—­ and are in no way indebted to—­the realities of our actual world. His thesis that the rational is actual is not evidence of his ignorance or trivialization of the unsavory facts of human history. Rather, it expresses his commitment to the assumption that even highly abstract concepts of reason owe a debt to what is actual for their origin and content. As I noted in my introductory chapter, this is the general line of interpretation I defend in this study, and it will need to be made more precise in what is to come. In the present chapter, I draw preliminary support for it from Hegel’s methodological remarks in his Introduction to his Lectures on the Philosophy of History. 64  As Terry Pinkard describes Hegel’s position in Does History Make Sense?, the “edges of the sharp rift between the world as it is rationally comprehended in thought and the world as it presents itself to us in experience are supposed to be softened and unified in an adequate ‘Idea’ ”, 17.

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0003

46  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit I explore the perspective he takes himself to adopt as a philosopher of history and thereby clarify the status he awards his own idea of history. Hegel’s description of the unique method he brings to his reflections on world history contains clues to the precise way in which he offers an alternative to the Kantian distinction between what is empirical and what is a priori. It becomes evident, already in the Introduction, that Hegelian reason is historical in a way that Kantian reason is not. The text I am referring to as Hegel’s Lectures on the Philosophy of History was compiled from the five courses he offered on that topic in Berlin, beginning in 1822/23.65 The “subject matter [Gegenstand]” of the lectures is “world history [Weltgeschichte]” (PH 3/11). Hegel notes that the term “world” is typically used to include both physical and spiritual nature. The substance of his philosophy of history, however, is spiritual nature or “Spirit [Geist]”; and the “essence” of Spirit, on his definition, is freedom (PH 19f./29f.). World history “presents. . . . the development of Spirit’s consciousness of its freedom” (PH 67/86). Spirit has its “most concrete reality”, Hegel remarks, in “the theater of world history” (PH 19/29); and world history is the story of how Spirit’s consciousness of its freedom is actualized in concrete reality, that is, in the various domains of its activity such as religion, science, and art, ethics, politics., and law.66 Hegel’s world history is a history not of individuals but of peoples. Moreover, it is concerned “only with those peoples that have formed states” (PH 41/56).67 Hegel acknowledges that much of interest can happen to a people prior to its coming together to form a state. Families may coalesce into tribes; tribes may develop into rich cultures with sophisticated languages and form nations that wage wars (PH 66/85). But on Hegel’s account, what happens to a people prior to the formation of a state belongs strictly speaking to “prehistory [Vorgeschichte]” (PH 63f./82f.). World history begins when Spirit becomes consciousness of its freedom, and Spirit becomes truly conscious of its freedom only when it advances to the stage at which it recognizes that it must allow itself to be governed by “rules,

65  The first edition of the Lectures was prepared from Hegel’s lecture notes by his student Eduard Gans in 1837. Later editions rely both on Hegel’s notes and on student transcripts of his lectures. For discussion of the various English and German editions of the Lectures, see the Suhrkamp edition, 561–568. See also McCarney, Hegel on History, 7–9; George Dennis O’Brien, Hegel on Reason and History: A Contemporary Interpretation (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1975), 3–6; and Myriam Bienenstock and Norbert Waszek (eds and trans.), Hegel: Introduction à la philosophie de l’histoire (Paris: Libraire Générale Française, 2011), 21–24. Hegel discusses world history, as well, in his 1808 Nüremberger Enzyklopädie and then many years later in the final sections of his 1821 Philosophy of Right. 66  This point that Hegel does not confine world history to a history of states in the narrow sense is emphasized by Walter Jaeschke in “World History and the History of Absolute Spirit”, 101–115. As Jaeschke puts it, Hegel often emphasizes that his world history is a record of the “totality of spiritual attainments”, 111. This would indeed seem to be the implication of Hegel’s remark that Spirit actualizes itself in the spheres of religion, political system, ethics, system of law, customs, science, art, and technology (PH 67/87). 67  See also PH 16/26, where Hegel writes that world history is concerned with “individuals that are nations, with wholes that are states”.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  47 laws, universal and universally binding directives” (PH 65/83). Prior to forming a state, a people’s freedom exists as “only a possibility” (PH 62/81).68 The organization of my discussion is as follows: I begin in section 2.1 by considering Hegel’s remarks on how his method of “philosophic” history differs in significant respects from two other methods (those of “original” and “reflective” history). Already in these first paragraphs of the Lectures, Hegel flags the fact that his approach is unusual: it is neither purely empirical nor purely a priori but somehow a hybrid of both. As he notes, his approach sets out to satisfy what seem to be incompatible demands: the demand to objectively describe the historical facts without the distorting influence of interpretation, and the demand to avoid the naïveté of assuming that unmediated access to the facts is possible for us. In section 2.2, I explore Hegel’s explanation for how his unique philosophic method borrows features from each of the other two methods while at the same time offering us something new. In section 2.3, I use my interpretation of his philosophic method to suggest how we should understand some of his most curious pronouncements, for example, that the purpose of history can be both known and realized by us, and that what is “actual” in human affairs is also “rational”.

2.1  Three Methods for Considering History: Original, Reflective, Philosophic In the first few pages of his Introduction to the Lectures on the Philosophy of History, Hegel sketches three “methods [Arten]” for considering history: original, reflective, and philosophic. He identifies his own approach as philosophic, and his objective in these paragraphs is to introduce his approach by contrasting it with the others. The three methods are ideal types. Hegel implies neither that the conceptual boundaries separating the types are razor sharp, nor that the types are

68  At one point, Hegel remarks that history only properly begins with the “consciousness of personality [Persönlichkeit]” (PH 63/81). History in Hegel’s sense in other words begins only when individuals are in a position to recognize each other as “persons [Personen]”, that is, as free and rights-­bearing agents. For this reason, the “natural” situation in the family, or in a “natural society” where members do not yet relate to each other as “persons”, does not strictly speaking belong to history (PH 63/81). The idea of the value of persons has its roots in Christianity, according to Hegel, and Spirit only reaches the stage of “complete ripeness” in the modern period of Protestant northern Europe (hence, his claim that world history only properly begins with the “German nations [germanischen Nationen])” (PH 21/31, PH 97/140). Hegel’s lectures on world history begin with a discussion of the ancient Orient, but he takes himself to be considering a kind of prehistory in that case, since he holds that that culture lacked both the recognition of individuals as “persons” and institutions that reflected that elevated awareness. For a balanced discussion of these points as well as of Hegel’s Eurocentrism, see McCarney, Hegel on History, 142–151. See also Pinkard, Does History Make Sense?, note 41 to Chapter 3, where he describes McCarney’s treatment of Hegel as “too apologetic”. As for Hegel’s racism, Pinkard suggests that although Hegel held that the division of peoples into races was empirically justified, he tied race less to ethnicity and more to a people’s adherence to a set of norms or principles, 94–100.

48  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit in every instance perfectly separable in practice. He nowhere suggests that all ­historians may be neatly categorized under any one of his headings.69 Hegel has very little to say about his own philosophic approach in these opening pages of the Lectures. He appears to discuss the three methods in the order of what he considers to be their increasing adequacy, discussing what he takes to be the most adequate method (his philosophic method) last. In addition, Hegel does not defend the thesis that his method rests on an outright repudiation of the other two. On the contrary, he indicates that the method he identifies as his own incorporates features of the others.70 In typical Hegelian fashion, his philosophic method “sublates” the original and reflective methods; in doing so, it in some way both preserves and advances beyond them. In the final sentences of his Introduction, Hegel alerts us to the unusual nature of his method. He grants that there is something apparently “contradictory” about his approach in that it seems designed to satisfy incompatible demands. He confidently announces, however, that his philosophic method contains the key to how this apparent “contradiction” may be “explained [erklärt]” and “refuted [widerlegt]” (PH 10/20). In what follows, I indicate how Hegel thinks his method can escape contradiction. More importantly, I suggest how his approach to history mirrors his more general philosophical commitments. It is not my objective to consider whether Hegel’s classificatory scheme is justified, nor will I set out to determine whether he accurately subsumes actual historians under his various headings. I review his remarks on the methods only because of what they reveal about the conditions he wants his own philosophy of history to satisfy.

2.1.1  Original History As Hegel portrays it, original history has three distinctive features. First, its object is the present, not the past. Second, it aims to be descriptive rather than interpretative or reflective. Third, it is relatively narrow in scope. Beginning with the first feature, Hegel tells us that the “essential material” of original historians is “what is present and alive in their surrounding world” (PH 4/12). Original historians “transform the events, actions, and situations present to them into a work of representation” (PH 4/12; my emphasis). Hegel’s examples of works of original history include Herodotus’ Persian Wars, Thucydides’ The 69  The object of Hegel’s concern in these introductory pages of the Lectures is of course historical method, but his discussions here of the respective contributions of thought and observation give us insight into this more general account of the conditions of knowledge. For what is perhaps his most accessible (and condensed) treatment of these issues in other texts, see his critique of naïve empiricism in EL §38. He considers the respective contributions of thought and observation also in EL §§21–24. 70  This point is emphasized by O’Brien in Hegel on Reason and History, 16–26. My discussion in this chapter is much indebted to his treatment of these matters.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  49 Peloponnesian War, Guicciardini’s History of Italy, Xenophon’s The Persian Expedition, Caesar’s Commentaries, the Memoires of Cardinal de Retz, and Frederick the Great’s Histoire de mon Temps (PH 5/14). The authors of these works, he says, were concerned to describe actions, events, and situations that they themselves witnessed (PH 3/11). Because the object the original historian describes is the present, there is a relation of identity between the historian’s own culture [Bildung des Autors] and the events that are the objects of her attention. As Hegel puts it, the “spirit of the author” and the “spirit of the actions” she studies are “one and the same” (PH 4/12). The original historian represents her “own culture” rather than that of a “borrowed consciousness [geliehenes Bewußtsein]” (PH 5/13). Original history, on Hegel’s portrayal, may thus be characterized as in this respect autobiographical.71 Since the object of the original historian’s focus is her own culture, she in effect tells her own story, or more precisely, the story of her own time. Of course, no one can be an eyewitness to everything. Original historians invariably rely on the “reports and accounts of others” (PH 3/11). In his work on the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides, for example, had to “work up [ausarbeiten]” the speeches of Pericles from the reports of others. Thucydides thus did not represent the speeches of statesmen exactly as they were spoken. Thucydides was nonetheless engaged in original history because he set out to describe the present, and because his representations were by and large accurate (and as such, “not alien to Pericles”, as Hegel says) (PH 4f./12/f.). A second feature of original history is that it is largely descriptive. At least, this is its aim. In Hegel’s words, the original historian “describes more or less what he has seen, or at least lived through” (PH 4/12). He “lives within the spirit of the times”—and therefore “cannot as yet transcend them [ist noch nicht über sie hinaus]” (PH 4/12). In this respect, this mode of history is “unreflective [unreflektiert]” (PH 4/12). It is (or aims to be) based on a foundation of “observed or observable reality [angeschauter oder angeschaubarer Wirklichkeit]” (PH 4/12). Because the original historian “lives within” and therefore has no critical distance from the “spirit of the times” he describes, he is “not concerned with offering reflections” on those times (PH 4/12). The third and final feature Hegel attributes to original history concerns its scope. Because original historians set out to compose a portrait only of their own time, the scope of what they describe is narrowly confined. Their histories are limited to the patterns not of human events as a whole, but covering relatively short spans of time (PH 4/12).

71  This is O’Brien’s apt characterization in Hegel on Reason and History, 19. The autobiographical nature of original history is emphasized by Leon Pompa as well in Human Nature and Historical Knowledge: Hume, Hegel and Vico (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 75.

50  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

2.1.2  Reflective History Of the three general methods, Hegel has the most to say about the second (“reflective”) method. Indeed, he divides this method into four separate varieties. Before we review his remarks on each of them, it will be useful to highlight two features he believes the specific varieties share in common. These two features most sharply distinguish reflective from original history. In contrast to original history, the object of reflective history is the past rather than the present. On Hegel’s description, the reflective historian’s “presentation goes beyond the present in spirit and does not refer to the historian’s own time” (PH 6/14; my emphasis). An implication of this attention to the past is that reflective history is less directly autobiographical than original history. In reflective history, the “spirit that speaks through the author”, Hegel says, is “different from the spirit of the times for which he speaks” (PH 6/15; my emphasis). The fact that the object of this method of history is the past rather than the present explains why in the case of reflective history a gap opens up between the historian’s own “spirit” and that of the age he describes. The reflective historian approaches the historical material with “his spirit—­this being different from the spirit contained in the content” (PH 6/14). Given reflective history’s focus on the past, this method is furthermore unlike original history in that it cannot pretend to be purely descriptive. The reflective historian must introduce into his narrative an interpretative (or “reflective” or “conceptual”) component (PH 9/19). The “main thing [Hauptsache]” for this method, according to Hegel, cannot be the accurate observation of the facts. The main thing, rather, is the reconstruction or “working through [Verarbeitung]” of those facts (PH 6/14).

Universal Reflective History I turn, now, to consider Hegel’s remarks on the four varieties of reflective history, beginning with what he refers to as “universal” history. This mode of world history is sweeping in scope. Its objective is to provide an “overview [Übersicht] of the entire history of a people, or a country, or of the world” (PH 6/14). Hegel asserts that the ambitious scope of universal history is responsible for the fact that it is typically so “abstract”. Because surveys of long periods aim to be comprehensive, universal histories tend to give us no better than sweeping summaries or abridgements. These histories typically blur important distinctions between the forms of life of different cultures (PH 7/16). This method of history is reflective rather than original because the historian’s object is not something she could possibly observe. Her discussion must adopt a standpoint that is different from or external to the object she describes. This historian reflects on the past, and she does so through the lens of the present. Hegel cites the example of the histories of Livy, who “lets the kings, consuls, and

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  51 g­ enerals—­of an older Rome—­make speeches that are appropriate to a skilled lawyer of his own time” (PH 7/16). Livy, in other words, brings the past up to date; he translates the past into modern terms. He projects his own viewpoint onto the past.

Pragmatic Reflective History Like universal history, pragmatic reflective history is an investigation of the past rather than the present. Its narrations bring the “accounts of the past to life in our present-­day world”; in doing so, they ‘negate’ the events “as past” and make them “present”, Hegel says (PH 7/16f.). What makes this particular variety of reflective history “pragmatic”, however, is the fact that it uses the past primarily for purposes of moral instruction (PH 7/17). For this historian, history is a tool of education, a tool from which rulers and statesmen are meant to learn (PH 8/17). Although pragmatic history differs from original history in that it aims to describe the past rather than the present, pragmatic history shares with its original counterpart an ultimate concern with the present. That is, pragmatic history reflects on the past only because it seeks to derive from the past remedies for ills of the present.72 Because the pragmatic historian does not set out to provide a sweeping overview of the entire history of a people, country, or world, the scope the object of her study is narrower than that of the universal historian. Hegel directs a number of criticisms at the pragmatic version of reflective history, and they are worth considering because they contain clues to why he thinks an alternative historical method is called for. Hegel’s criticisms in other words give us insight into some of the objectives he expects his own philosophic method to satisfy. He notes, first, that lessons of the past are not in every instance applicable to problems of the present. Indeed, those who hope to derive lessons from the past often overlook important differences between past and present. It was common at the time of the French Revolution, for instance, to draw comparisons with Greek and Roman history. But, as Hegel puts it, “[n]othing could be more different than the nature of those ancient peoples and our own time” (PH 8/17). A few lines later, he tips his hat to Montesquieu for insisting that we appreciate the unique features of peoples and situations. Montesquieu’s 1748 Spirit of the Laws instructs us that that the “only thing” that can “give truth and interest to reflections”, “is the thoroughgoing free, and comprehensive view of situations” in all their concreteness and particularity (PH 8/18). In Hegel’s words: [e]ach era has such particular circumstances [eigentümliche Umstände], is such an individual situation [individueller Zustand], that decisions can only be made within the era itself. In the press of world events, there is no help to be had from 72  As O’Brien puts the point in Hegel on Reason and History, with pragmatic history, the “historian’s own time and interests” “become the principle of selection for writing history”, 22.

52  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit a general principle [allgemeiner Grundsatz], nor from the memory of similar conditions in former times—­for a pale memory has no force against the vitality and freedom of the present.  (PH 8/17)

Hegel suggests in this passage that the abstractness of pragmatic history is at least in part responsible for the failure of rulers and nations to learn from this mode of history. Nothing is after all to be gained from historical lessons that have no significant bearing on the present. To the extent that pragmatic history is abstract, it is irrelevant and ineffective. The reflective historian is aware that she does not simply describe but ­interprets history, and that she does so through the lens of her age. Insofar as she is inspired by Montesquieu, she in addition strives to be sensitive to differences that separate the eras or ages of history. She appreciates, then, that each new age brings with it a new interpretation of history and derives its own unique lessons from history. The historian who follows in the footsteps of Montesquieu is in other words aware that “one reflective history supersedes another” (PH 8/18). She does not expect that her own historical narrative will achieve universal and timeless validity. She grants that human history is continually being rewritten.73 Eventually, we will be in a position to appreciate the extent to which these lessons of Montesquieu make their way into Hegel’s own philosophy of history. Returning now, to the task at hand: there is a further Hegelian criticism of pragmatic reflective history we have yet to consider. Aside from the fact that Hegel takes pragmatic historians to be insufficiently sensitive to differences that separate their own age from the ages they describe, he in addition charges that they tend to ignore the larger lessons of history. Hegel expresses this criticism not in the introductory pages of the Lectures but in his Encyclopaedia. He tells us there that when pragmatic treatments of history finally do turn their attention to particular historical details, they too often select out the wrong details. They are typically too preoccupied, he says, with contingent particularities of human nature. Pragmatic histories trace the great events of history to the “accidental idiosyncrasies” of 73  As Hegel puts it, “one reflective history thus supersedes another [löst . . . die andere ab]. Each author has the materials available, so that each can consider himself equally capable of organizing and working through them, thus validating his own spirit in them as the spirit of the time” (PH 8/18). Hegel does not mention Herder in these pages, but he undoubtedly owes a debt to Herder as well as to Montesquieu. For a defense of the thesis that Hegel was deeply influenced by Herder’s insight that even our most fundamental and seemingly stable values and concepts change over the course of history, see Michael Forster, “Das geistige Tierreich”, in Hegels Phänomenologie des Geistes: Ein kooperativer Kommentar, eds K. Vieweg and W. Welsch (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2008), 394–411, and Michael Rosen, “Die Geschichte”, §8.9.3. For further discussion of Herder’s influence on Hegel and sensitivity to cultural variability, see Eric Michael Dale, Hegel, the End of History, and the Future (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), Chapter  5, and §4.4 of Rachel Zuckert’s, Herder’s Naturalist Aesthetics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019).

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  53 heroes and their “presumed petty aims, inclinations and passions”. In doing so, they fail to capture the “substantial character of world-­historical individuals” (EG §377A). Pragmatic histories thereby reduce history to a “play of meaningless activity and contingent happenings”.74 It is worth repeating that our concern here is not with the accuracy of Hegel’s portrayal of any of these historical methods. Rather, our objective is to extract from his criticisms of the various approaches clues to the method he wishes to put in their place. From this final criticism of pragmatic history, we can infer that, in his eyes, a superior approach would be one that attends to concrete particularity but selects out the right kind of particularities for examination. A superior approach would be concrete rather than abstract, and it would inform us about the “substantial character” of “world-­historical” figures.

Critical Reflective History Once again, this historian directs her gaze principally on the past rather than the present, but in contrast to the other forms of reflective history, the objects of her narrative are not human actions but historical narratives themselves. In Hegel’s words: [w]hat is here presented is not history itself, but a history of history [eine Geschichte der Geschichte]; it is an assessment of historical narratives and an inquiry into their truth and trustworthiness.  (PH 9/18)

Critical reflective history is for Hegel essentially historiography: the study of the historian’s methods. It ‘assesses’ historical narratives in that it raises questions about the sources of the historian’s evidence, for example, and about the historian’s grounds for determining which facts merit discussion. The critical reflective historian furthermore asks whether history qualifies as a proper “science”. In theorizing about the writing of history and in raising methodological questions, the critical historian’s preoccupation much resembles Hegel’s own task in these introductory paragraphs of the Lectures.75

74  Hegel does not explicitly mention “pragmatic” approaches in this passage; he refers, rather, to “self-­knowledge in the common trivial sense”. He raises these objections against “pragmatic history writing” more explicitly in EL §140A. In PH, he remarks that, “the empirically singular [empirisch Einzelne]” is not the proper concern of world history (37f./52). 75  O’Brien points out that, in the case of critical history, narrations themselves become the objects of reflection. Otherwise put, narrations become the ‘events’ upon which the historian reflects. With critical reflective history, the dichotomy between the events themselves and the stories we tell breaks down. The subject matter of history becomes, in O’Brien’s words, “ideational material”, that is, “spirit”. In Hegel on Reason and History, 24.

54  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit In his brief remarks here, Hegel praises the French for their “profound and thoughtful” contributions to this field.76 He has less friendly things to say, however, about the “so-­called higher criticism” of the “Germans”: This higher criticism has supposedly justified the introduction of all the unhistorical abortions [Ausgeburten] of a vain imagination. This is the other means of achieving ‘reality’ in history, by putting subjective notions in place of historical data.  (PH 9/18f.)

Critical reflective history, Hegel here suggests, suffers from a preoccupation with the subject’s (that is, the historian’s) interpretations; it is insufficiently concerned with accurately representing the facts. In this respect, critical history is excessively subjective. In section 2.2, we will take a closer look at Hegel’s objections to this approach to world history.

Specialized Reflective History Once again, Hegel says too little in these paragraphs to be terribly informative. He tells us that this method contrasts most sharply with the “universal” variety of reflective history because the aims of specialized history are in a certain way less ambitious. A historical method is “specialized” if it sets out to provide a history not of a whole people or country, but rather of some particular domain of human activity. Specialized historians give us histories, for example, of art, law, or religion. Interestingly, however, Hegel remarks here that specialized history forms a “transition [Übergang]” to the method of history he ends up identifying as his own, namely “philosophic” history: Although [specialized history] abstracts from the whole, it does form a transition to philosophic world history, by taking universal viewpoints (e.g. the history of art, of law, or of religion).  (PH 9/19; my emphasis)

Hegel’s observation in this passage that specialized history “abstracts from the whole” is fairly straightforward. This mode of history abstracts from the whole in that it singles out for narration merely a piece of the whole of human history. 76  The only French author Hegel mentions in these pages is Montesquieu (PH 18/18). One wonders what other authors he has in mind when he mentions the “profound and thoughtful” contributions of the French. In his treatment of the “French Philosophy” in volume III of his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, he praises modern French philosophy for its “war” on the “external authority of state and church” and on the “abstract metaphysic of Descartes”. He describes modern French philosophy as “full of life and spirit” and commends it for replacing the “abstract metaphysic” with “the concrete freedom of the Spirit”. In addition to Montesquieu, Hegel mentions Voltaire, Rousseau, d’Alembert, and Diderot in these pages, but he says nothing about their contributions to the philosophy of history in particular.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  55 Specialized history is thus less ambitious in scope than especially universal history. Specialized history marks the “transition” to philosophic history, however, because it takes up “universal viewpoints”. Hegel seems to mean by this that, in its narratives of particular domains of human activity, specialized history undertakes to capture the universal. That is, it sets out to relay how human freedom or “Spirit” shows up in these various domains. Specialized history thereby aims to reveal the “inner guiding soul [innere leitende Seele]” rather than the mere “outer thread” of events and actions (PH 10/19). Specialized history strives for depth, whereas the method of universal history is more concerned to achieve comprehensiveness in scope, that is, breadth. Hegel applauds specialized history’s aim to capture the universal, but he is unconvinced that this method of history succeeds in its efforts. The specialized histories with which he is familiar fall short when it comes to separating out what is “rational and necessary” in the history of a people from what is “empirically singular [empirisch Einzelne]” (PH 37f./52). The fact that Hegel discovers this defect gives us some indication of why he thinks a superior method is needed. Before turning to Hegel’s remarks on the final and “philosophic” method—­the method he identifies as his own—­I want to extract clues to his own preferred method from the criticisms we have just reviewed. In my introductory paragraphs, I suggested that Hegel does not intend his philosophic method as a complete departure from the original and reflective approaches. Instead, he claims that his method advances beyond the other two while preserving some of their features. One respect in which Hegel’s philosophic method is in his view an advance beyond original history is that it shares with reflective history a preoccupation with the past. Because the past is not immediately available to observation, philosophic history (like its reflective counterpart) is in addition an interpretive rather than observational science; it does not pretend to be purely descriptive. The philosophic historian, in common with the reflective historian, has to “work through” the facts.77 But although philosophic history is reflective or interpretative in nature, it steers clear of certain features of reflective history. Philosophic history differs from critical reflective history, for example, in that its purpose is not just to reflect on and evaluate the methods of history. It seeks, in addition, to give us an accurate account of past human events. Philosophic history differs from universal reflective history in that it is less abstract. Although it shares with universal history the ambition of narrating the whole of human history, it derives inspiration from Montesquieu; it strives to capture human history with a high degree of 77  Even original history, as Hegel portrays it, takes what is “external present [äußerlich vorhanden]” and “translates [übersetz]” it into a “spiritual representation [geistigen Vorstellung]” (PH 3/11). Nonetheless, original history is not a mere species of “reflective” history because its “translations” from “outer” to “inner” are assumed to be direct or immediate. The “inner” is presumably (and naïvely) supposed to mirror the “outer”.

56  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit concreteness and particularity. Philosophic history distinguishes itself from pragmatic reflective history in that, first, its purpose in telling the story of human events is not confined to moral instruction. Second, philosophic history avoids pragmatic history’s tendency to reduce history to a “play of meaningless activity and contingent happenings” (EG §377A). In this way, philosophic history has more in common with specialized history which sets out to reveal the “inner guiding soul [innere leitende Seele]” of human actions. In contrast to specialized history, however, philosophic history actually succeeds in achieving this goal. At least, this is what Hegel boldly claims.

2.1.3  Philosophic History Now that we have summarized Hegel’s criticisms of the original and reflective methods, we can turn our attention to the short description he provides in the first pages of his Introduction regarding the nature of his uniquely “philosophic” approach to history. He begins with the remark that the “philosophy of history” is “nothing other than the thoughtful consideration [denkende Betrachtung] of ­history” (PH 10/20). Since this remark gives us no insight into how he distinguishes philosophic history from its reflective counterpart, it is not on its own terribly illuminating. After all, Hegel effectively characterizes reflective history, too, as a thoughtful consideration of history. As we saw, this is the feature that most clearly distinguishes it from original history. In this brief discussion, Hegel signals his awareness that his method of philosophic history is unusual and in need of clarification. Unfortunately, all he gives us by way of clarification in these introductory pages are a few elusive remarks. He emphasizes the reflective aspect of philosophic history by reminding us that we differ from other animals in that, “we cannot ever give up thinking” (PH 10/20). There is thinking, he says, “in our perception, in our cognition and our intellect, in our drives and our volition” (PH 10/20). If we take these assertions seriously, we have to conclude that Hegel means to commit himself to the view that, strictly speaking, there can be no such thing as original history—­at least, not insofar as original history rests on the assumption that we are capable of direct or immediate access to the facts.78 If thinking invariably accompanies perception, as Hegel asserts, then the original historian deceives himself in assuming that he can simply and unreflectively report what he observes or experiences (PH 4/12). On Hegel’s definition, philosophic history thus shares with reflective history an

78  This is a message, too, of his critique in EG §549R of the purportedly “purely historical” approach to history, which overlooks the fact that it is actually involved in “a priori” historical writing.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  57 opposition to the naïveté of original history. Like the reflective historian, the philosopher of history recognizes that: he is dealing with history as a material, not to be left as it is, but to be construed according to thoughts, as one says, a priori.  (PH 10/20)

Curiously, however, Hegel goes on to characterize his philosophic method in a way that appears incompatible with the above description. He notes that there is something “unsatisfying” about the “appeal to thinking”. The appeal is “unsatisfying”, he says, because “in history our thinking is subordinated [untergeordnet] to the given and to what exists” (my emphasis). Our thinking has what exists as its “basis [zu seiner Gundlage] and is governed [geleitet] by it” (PH 10/20). [S]ince history has merely to take in [aufzufassen] information—­i.e. of what is and has been, of events and actions—­and since it remains all the truer the more it confines itself to what is given [das Gegebene], this [philosophic] approach seems to be in conflict with the proper concern of philosophy.  (PH 10/20)

On the one hand, philosophic history is similar to reflective history: it construes history “according to thoughts”, as Hegel says. On the other, history is “truer” if it “confines itself to what is given”. The philosophic method thus seems split between two incompatible—­or at least apparently incompatible—­goals. As Hegel adds, his method seems to contain a “contradiction [Widerspruch]” (PH 10f./20). The contradiction or apparent contradiction can be summarized as follows: We want our histories to conform to the facts, that is, we want them to be more than mere fictions or fantasies. As far as this aim is concerned, philosophic history shares with original history the ambition of accurately and objectively representing world historical affairs. At the same time, however, philosophic history rejects the naïveté of original history. It recognizes, in common with reflective history, that we cannot capture the facts without conceptual mediation. As Hegel puts it, philosophy “has thoughts of its own, brought forth by speculation from within itself and without reference to what is” (PH 10/20). Because philosophic history aims to satisfy these apparently incompatible demands, it seems to be self-­ contradictory. The philosophic method is supposed to give us an accurate description of what is; at the same time, however, it recognizes that we can only access what is through thoughts. Hegel concludes this discussion with the remark that the “contradiction [Widerspruch]” “must here be clarified [erklärt] and resolved or refuted [widerlegt]” (PH 10f./20). He thereby puts us on notice that a resolution is available and that his philosophical treatment of history will provide it.

58  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

2.2  Resolving the Contradiction Between Original and Reflective History We just noted that Hegel attributes a reflective element to his philosophic approach to history. In common with reflective history, his philosophic method shares a preoccupation with the past. Because the reflective historian’s primary object is the past, she does not adopt the method of the original historian and simply report what she sees. She recognizes that what she describes is invariably ‘worked through’ by forms of thought. But although Hegel attributes a reflective element to his own approach to history, he wishes to distinguish his philosophic method from reflective history in a certain respect. His method, then, is not a mere species of reflective history; it deserves a category of its own. But this assumption that philosophic history deserves its own category calls for explanation. We can derive at least part of the explanation, I believe, from Hegel’s assertion that his method will solve a contradiction that the other two methods are incapable of solving. In effect, original and reflective history each conceives of itself as the negation or contradictory of the other. The original historian judges that her narratives can immediately access the facts. The reflective historian denies that such access is possible; she holds, instead, that our access to the facts is necessarily mediated by forms of thought. Precisely because original and reflective history each conceives of itself as the negation or contradiction of the other in this way, each fails to appreciate what is true about the other. Original history ignores what is true about reflective history’s insistence upon the mediating role of concepts. Reflective history, in contrast, abandons what it supposes is original history’s unachievable ambition to accurately or directly capture what is. In defining itself as the negation of original history, reflective history condemns itself to excessive subjectivity. Our explanation for why Hegel’s method is not a mere species of reflective history, then, is that his method embraces certain features of original history. That is, his philosophic approach does not understand itself as the negation or contradictory of original history. Insofar as philosophic history seeks to accurately record human events, it inherits from original history what we might refer to as the aim of objectivity. We get a clue that Hegel means to assign this aim to his philosophic method when he identifies the following principle as a “first condition” of writing history: we must take history as it is, and proceed historically, empirically [wir haben historisch, empirisch zu verfahren].  (PH 13/22)

Hegel repeats this condition a few passages later. The historian, he says, “must apprehend the historical faithfully [getreu]” (PH 14/23). Writing history is thus for Hegel a matter of accurately describing what is. In this way, Hegel’s philosophic method affirms the principal aim of original history. Philosophic history

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  59 on his description dedicates itself to the task of providing an objective narration of events and not a mere interpretation of events. As a first condition of writing philosophic history, the historian is obliged to steer clear of what Hegel refers to as “a priori fabrications [apriorische Erdichtungen]” (PH 13/22). In short, Hegel holds that philosophic history is not a mere instance of reflective history because philosophic history does not conceive of itself as the negation or contradictory of original history; it avoids the excessive subjectivity of reflective history. Of all the varieties of reflective history, critical reflective history is the most excessively subjective because it altogether abandons the effort to describe the facts and devotes its attention, instead, to theoretical or methodological matters. As we saw, the primary task of critical reflective history is to assess its own aims and methods. Its object is itself. Hegel makes no explicit mention of Kant in these pages of the Lectures, but we have reason to suppose that Kant is among those he would classify as engaging in reflective history. Repeatedly and in a variety of contexts, Hegel characterizes Kant’s overall philosophical approach as excessively subjective. As I hope to show, he is convinced that the subjectivity of Kant’s approach to history derives from a misguided understanding of the relation of our concepts to what is. Like all reflective historians, Kant takes his reflective approach to stand in a relation of negation or opposition to the method of original history. Before further defending this suggestion that Hegel classifies Kant as a reflective historian, I want to stress the extent to which Hegel’s own historical approach is indebted to Kant. In particular, it is indebted to Kant for its critique of the naïve or uncritical form of empiricism that lies at the basis of original history. Borrowing from Kant, Hegel charges that original history ignores the role that thought plays in perception and cognition. When Hegel asserts that the historian “is not passive [passiv] in his thinking” but “brings his categories along with him and sees his data through them” (PH 14/23), he echoes the central Kantian thesis that “intuitions without concepts are blind” (CPR A 51/B75). Hegel clearly draws inspiration from Kant, too, when he tells us that, in all human perception and cognition, we are not “merely receptive [nur aufnehmend]”; thinking is something we “cannot avoid [unterlassen]” (PH 10/20, 14/23). For both philosophers, the point is not just that thought or reflection is a useful tool for sorting through and organizing the diverse content of sensation. The point is rather that reflection is invariably present. A given sense content is nothing for us—­more precisely, it is nothing of  which we can be aware as an object—­without the synthesizing activity of concepts.79 For Kant as well as for Hegel, nothing can be for us an object of consciousness without a “reflective” element, that is, without conceptual mediation.80

79  Because humans are thinking beings, they are “born metaphysicians”, Hegel writes in EL §98A1. Only non-human animals are “true, pure physicists”, since they “do not think”. 80  Hegel’s commitment to this Kantian thesis is evident not just in the lectures on the philosophy of history and in Encyclopaedia. For an earlier instance, see his 1807 Phenomenology of Spirit, in which

60  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit Kant and Hegel are therefore on the same page as far as this critique of original history is concerned. The split occurs, I have suggested, in their respective alternatives to the method of original history. From Hegel’s perspective, Kant is too ready to abandon the historian’s duty to get at the facts—­he is too ready to turn historical narratives into something excessively subjective. In a revealing passage, Hegel issues the following warning: We are not to “be misled by the professional historians, particularly the Germans, who . . . do precisely what they accuse philosophers of doing, namely create a priori fabrications [apriorische Erdichtungen] in history”. Hegel instructs us to “leave all such a priori constructions to the clever professional historians, for whom (in Germany) such constructions are not uncommon” (PH 13f./22f.). The historian’s responsibility, after all, is to “apprehend the historical faithfully” (PH 14/23). The historian should guard against flights of fantasy; she should avoid substituting “subjective notions” or abstractions of a “vain imagination” for historical evidence (PH 9/18). She should steer clear of “a priori fabrications” claiming, for instance, that: there existed an original, primeval people, taught directly by God and having complete insight and wisdom, with a penetrating knowledge of all the laws of nature and spiritual truth . . . or that there was a Roman epic from which the Roman historians drew their earliest history, and so on.  (PH 13/22)

Hegel repeats these warnings later in his Introduction. He refers to the “biblical account” of a people in a “natural condition” who possessed “pure knowledge of God and nature”. Although this thesis—­including the idea that God is supposed to have spoken Hebrew with Adam—­is put forward as based on “historical fact”, it is in truth “merely an assumption made in the twilight of theorizing reflection” (PH 61/78f.).81

he defends in great detail the Kantian thesis that nothing can be for us an object of consciousness without conceptual mediation (see the chapter, “Sense Certainty”). 81  It is clear from a note Hegel appends to these remarks that it is not Kant who he has specifically in mind here, but the Romantic Friedrich Schlegel, whose Philosophie der Geschichte appeared in 1829. (Below, I have more to say in defense of my thesis that these Hegelian criticisms also apply to Kant.) For a discussion of Hegel’s reaction to the Romantics’ philosophies of history, see Karl Ameriks, “The Historical Turn and Late Modernity”, in Hegel on Philosophy in History, eds R.  Zuckert and J. Kreines (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 139–156. Whether Hegel is also taking a shot at Leopold von Ranke (1795–1886) is more difficult to ascertain. Although Hegel and Ranke overlapped for only three years in Berlin, Frederick C. Beiser claims that Hegel knew Ranke’s views “all too well”. Ranke is commonly characterized as a fact-­based historian, but his approach to world history is arguably fanciful enough to have earned him Hegel’s disdain. Indeed, according to Beiser, Hegel interpreted Ranke’s work as a primitive form of reflective history. See Beiser’s “Hegel and Ranke: A Re-­Examination”, in A Companion to Hegel, eds S. Houlgate and M. Baur (Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley-­Blackwell, 2011), 343f.. See also Pinkard’s discussion of Hegel’s treatment of Ranke in note 7 to Chapter 2 of Does History Make Sense?. For a defense of Ranke as giving us history as a “robust empirical and objective science”, see Jouni-­ Matti Kuukkanen’s “The Missing Narrativist Turn in the Historiography of Science”, History and Theory 51, no. 3 (October 2012): 340–363.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  61 Given Hegel’s obvious disdain for the “a priori fabrications” of reflective ­ istorians, it is curious that he sometimes characterizes his own historical method h as “a priori” (more precisely, as “so-­called [sogenannten] a priori”) (PH 68/87). The fact that he does so begs the question: Just how is his a priori method different from other a priori approaches? In particular, how does it differ from Kant’s? After all, and as we saw in Chapter 1, Kant classifies his “idea” of world history as a priori as well (8:30).82 One thing we can say with confidence at this point is that Hegel characterizes his own method as a priori in order to underscore the fact that, although he intends to be faithful to what is, his approach will not be naïvely or uncritically empirical. Part of the explanation for his insistence upon the a priori nature of his philosophic or “scientific” approach, then, is that he wishes us to bear in mind that he will undertake a “thoughtful consideration of history” (PH 10/20; my emphasis). His method, like Kant’s, will neither aim nor pretend to be purely descriptive. As I have been emphasizing, however, Hegel is obviously critical of a certain kind of thoughtful consideration of history, one that generates “a priori fabrications”. We already reviewed one reason for this. We saw that he has no patience with historians who try to pass off as ‘fact’ what is instead an instance of fiction or fantasy. But there is another explanation for Hegel’s rejection of a certain kind of a priori history—­an explanation we have not yet considered. I introduce it now as a central interpretative assumption I will be defending in this book. This further explanation identifies more precisely the point at which Hegel parts ways with Kant. The additional reason for Hegel’s rejection of a certain kind of thoughtful consideration of history is that he harbors doubts about a particular conception of the a priori. More precisely, he means to challenge the Kantian assumption that thought could be productive of concepts or ideas that owe no debt to experience. This interpretative hypothesis of course requires defense, and supplying that defense is one of my central objectives in this study. As a first step, we need to clarify more precisely the kind of a priori approach Hegel means to reject. This will be my task in the final paragraphs of this section. Here, it will help to bring in Kant once again, for Kant belongs among those committed to the form of a priorism Hegel calls into question. In Chapter 1, we stressed how, in characterizing his philosophical approach to history as “a priori”, Kant’s aim is to call our attention to the status of his “idea” of history as following a purposive and progressive course. We noted that, on his account, ideas of reason have neither their origin nor justification in experience; they are a priori in 82  As Kant writes in “Idea for a Universal History”, his idea of world history is “to some extent [gewissermaßen] based upon an a priori principle [Leitfaden a priori]” (8:30). It is the work of a “philosophical mind” and is not intended to displace a “properly empirical history” (8:30).

62  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit that, with regard both to their origin and justification, they are supposed to be independent of experience; they derive from a faculty of reason that is wholly non-­empirical or “pure”. Kant describes his ideas of reason as “in a certain respect [gewißermassen]” a priori, presumably, because he, too, wants to be able to claim that his reflections about the purposive and progressive course of history are not instances of sheer fantasy and that historical or empirical evidence supports them. Actual, historical evidence can be cited to lend a degree of plausibility to his idea of history. There are good historical grounds, he tells us, for expecting that “enlightenment will gradually arise” for the human species (8:28). Kant is persuaded that, although his “idea of a universal history” should not be confused with “properly empirical history”, its principal theses are nonetheless at least compatible with the empirical facts (8:30). But although Kant asserts that empirical evidence can be discovered to support his philosophical treatment of history, he cautions us to take this assumption with a grain of salt. As we saw in Chapter 1, he holds that, strictly speaking, his idea of universal history cannot be known by human thinkers at all. The problem is not just that the empirical evidence in favor of his various theses is inductive and therefore at best only probable. The problem is rather that the objects to which Kant’s ideas of reason refer are not—­to any extent—­objects of empirical investigation. No amount of empirical evidence could confirm or disconfirm them. The theses that history unfolds purposively, according to a plan of Providence, and so forth, refer to objects outside the realm of human experience. On Kant’s own account, these are objects of faith or speculation, not science. Empirical evidence may appear to confirm our assertions about them, but such objects are strictly speaking unavailable to our knowledge.83 As I noted a moment ago, my objective is to defend the thesis that Hegel’s a priori is significantly different than this. We get preliminary indication that this is so, for example, in remarks that reveal his appreciation for original history and effort to unify features of original and reflective history. In the Lectures, Hegel repeatedly reminds us that the philosopher of history is obligated to attend to the facts. The philosophic approach to history, he insists, takes seriously the responsibility to “apprehend the historical faithfully” (PH 14/23). The philosopher of history relies on the facts not just in order to assert that those facts appear to confirm his idea of history; the philosopher of history in addition relies on history for 83  Ameriks seems to me on target, then, in observing that the “common thread of Kant’s attack on all theorists like Schulz and Herder is a deep opposition to any suggestion that the differences between human faculties (e.g. sensation and concepts, unfree and free behavior), or between human beings and other species, can be simply a matter of degree”. In “The Purposive Development of Human Capacities” in Kant’s Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Aim: A Critical Guide, eds A. Rorty and J. Schmidt (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2009), 54. Ameriks furthermore convincingly argues in this paper that Kant’s denial that a priori concepts are innate should not be understood to imply that he holds that they are in any way “dependent on the contingencies of time”, 64.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  63 actual “proof [Beweis]” in support of her theses. The theses that world history is rational as well as progressive, and that “there is a divine Providence presiding over the events of the world”, draw their evidence, Hegel tells us, from “the consideration of world history itself ” (PH 13/22; 15f./25; see also 19/29f.).84 His claim that history is rational is an “outcome of the study of history” (PH 13/22). This portrayal of the philosophic method’s debt to history is surely unlike the approach that grounds its claims about the rational and progressive nature of history on an inspection of ideas of reason. My suggestion—­which will require more defense—­is that Hegel does not embrace the Kantian view that ideas of history derive from pure reason and merely appear to be confirmed by the facts. Instead, Hegel holds that the justification for his own ideas of the purposive and progressive course of history is provided by history itself. His ideas are warranted because they pass the test of history.85 Hegel’s departure from Kant shows up, then, in his insistence upon the historian’s responsibility to “apprehend the historical faithfully”. But his departure from Kant is even more apparent in his adherence to an assumption we discussed back in Chapter 1, namely that ideas of history are available to our knowledge. Hegel means us to take seriously his promise to provide historical “proof ” in support of his principle, for example, that “there is a divine Providence presiding over the events of the world” (PH 13/22, 15f./25, 19/29). We are to take this promise seriously, because in his view, ideas such as this count as genuine instances of historical knowledge. The objects to which they refer are not mere objects of faith or speculation. The following question naturally arises at this point: What kind of knowledge counts as historical knowledge, for Hegel? Our foregoing discussion can help us to at least begin to supply an answer. The evidential basis of Hegelian historical knowledge cannot be unmediated observation, because for Hegel (as for Kant), the method of philosophic history is not that of original history. On Hegel’s account, the philosopher of history, “is not passive [passiv] in his thinking; he brings his categories along with him and sees his data through them” (PH 14/23). At the same time, however, Hegel denies that philosophic history is a mere species of reflective history. Although, as we saw, he attributes to his philosophic method a reflective—­indeed, an a priori—­component, his philosophic method is nonetheless somehow able to reconcile its reflective side with the ambition of original history. For Hegel, philosophic history provides not just an interpretative narration of human events but an accurate description of them. In some way, it combines what we might refer to as objective and subjective components.

84  See, too, Hegel’s frequently cited description of world history as a “court of justice [Gericht]” in PR §341. 85  This may be the assumption behind Hegel’s remark that, in history, “our thinking is subordinated to the given and to what exists; it has all this as its basis and is governed by it” (PH 10/20).

64  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit I have advanced the thesis that Hegel considers the reflective or a priori component of philosophic history to be significantly different from the reflective or a priori component of reflective history. In contrast to Kant’s version of reflective history in particular, Hegel insists that ideas of philosophical history can be known by us.86 The ideas and principles of his philosophical approach to history are a priori, but their validity nonetheless depends on their passing the test of history. Although a priori, they are clearly not a priori in the Kantian sense, for Kant holds that a priori concepts are products of pure reason. Precisely because they derive from pure reason, such concepts can only be justified by pure reason, in his view. In the service of citing a further piece of preliminary evidence that Hegel has doubts about the Kantian conception of the a priori, I want to return to a passage we considered back in Chapter 1. This is the passage in which Hegel comments on the “vanity [Eitelkeit]” of the assumption that human reason is capable of giving birth to ideas that are unknowable because their objects transcend the realm of experience: When the Divine Being is placed beyond the reach of our knowing and beyond human affairs altogether, we gain the convenience of indulging in our own imaginings. We are thereby excused from having to give our knowledge some relation to the Divine and the True. On the contrary, the vanity of human knowledge and subjective feeling receives a complete justification for itself. And when pious humility [fromme Demut] places the knowing God at a distance, it knows full well what it has thereby gained for its arbitrariness and vain efforts. (PH 17/27)

What could possibly be “vain [eitel]” about efforts to draw the limits of human knowledge? The vanity Hegel seems to have in mind in this passage refers not to the project of drawing limits, but to the level of confidence some philosophers invest in their ability to do so. He suggests that behind “pious” expressions of modesty lurk less-­than-­modest claims to know those limits absolutely.87 Whether these claims are taken to rest on “subjective feeling”, special insight, or (as in Kant’s case) a priori laws of pure reason, their proponents help themselves to what are in effect appeals to self-­evidence. In doing so, they save themselves the trouble of demonstrating “some relation to the Divine and the True”. They gain the 86  Recall this remark that we discussed in Chapter  1: “God wants no narrow-­minded souls and empty heads for His children” (PH 17/27). 87  Hegel repeats this worry, for example, in EL §60. He writes of the “supreme inconsistency” of the following two claims: (i) that “the understanding is only cognizant of appearances”, and (ii) that “this cognition [about the knowledge of the understanding] is something absolute”. The cognition about the limits of the knowledge of the understanding is “absolute”, presumably, because it is taken to be unrevisable or necessary. It amounts to the assumption, in Hegel’s words, that “this is the natural, absolute restriction of human knowing”. He is explicit in these remarks that his target is the “Kantian philosophy”.

Hegel ’ s “ Philosophic ” Approach to World History  65 “convenience” of indulging in their own “imaginings”, but pay what for Hegel is the unacceptably high price of sealing themselves off from criticism or correction.88

2.3  Our a priori Idea of History must Submit to the Test of History This is a good place to take stock of the main points of our discussion in this work so far. In Chapter  1, we considered ways in which a sensitivity to the fact of human finitude shows up in the philosophies of history of both Kant and Hegel. I stressed that only Hegel defends the view that the ideas of the rational and progressive nature of history are proper objects of our knowledge. In contrast, Kant classifies his ideas of history as strictly speaking objects of speculation or practical faith. I also suggested, however, that Hegel’s bold claim that our ideas of history are knowable may be less implausible than it initially appears. I proposed that his thesis might even demonstrate his sensitivity to the fact of our finitude. In the service of clarifying the basis of Hegel’s seemingly immodest assertions, I then moved on to take a closer look at features of his philosophic approach to history. My task was to explain how his approach, although similar to Kant’s in combining empirical and a priori elements, nonetheless departs from Kant’s approach in crucial respects. I identified certain features of Hegel’s philosophic method by examining his criticisms of the original and reflective methods. We learned, for example, that Hegel’s philosophic approach shares with universal reflective history the effort to get at the whole of human history. It shares the ambitious scope but not the abstractness of universal history. Moreover, philosophic history is unlike pragmatic history because it is not primarily concerned with moral education. Nor is philosophic history a mere instance of critical history, which confines its attention to methodological matters. Because philosophic history shares the ambitious scope of universal history, it is in this respect different from specialized history. But it shares with specialized history both an attention to concrete detail and the effort to reveal the “inner guiding soul [innere leitende Seele]” of events and actions (PH 10/19). More significantly for our purposes, philosophic history as Hegel portrays it avoids a certain contradiction, a contradiction that in his view plagues any effort to 88  For a further expression of Hegel impatience with the hypocrisy he discovers in those who preach epistemic modesty, see EL §19A1. In response to those who ask, “‘How should a poor worm like me be able to discover what is true?’”, Hegel replies: “Here it is not modesty that holds us back from the study and cognition of the truth, but the conviction that we possess the truth in and for itself already”. In another passage, he observes that some treat the finitude of Spirit as “fixed and absolute”. This “modesty”, however, is “the worst of virtues”. In truth, it is a form of “vanity [Eitelkeit]”. Finitude is “not the truth”; it is a transition to something “higher”. The modesty that insists upon the absoluteness of finitude appears as an “extreme immersion [of Spirit] in its subjectivity”; as such, it risks degenerating into “wickedness [das Böse]” (EG §386). These remarks call to mind Nietzsche’s charge that Kant’s insistence that we cannot know things in themselves is a case of “ascetic self-­contempt” (Genealogy of Morals III, ¶12).

66  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit achieve the laudable aims of both original and reflective history. As we saw, Hegel’s philosophic method embraces the insight of reflective history that historical narrative is necessarily a ‘working through’ of events, and not an exercise in purely passive observation. We might refer to this insight as the “Kantian” aspect of Hegel’s philosophical approach; it draws inspiration from Kant’s repudiation of naïve empiricism. At the same time, however, Hegel’s philosophic method is not a mere species of reflective history. It deems the latter to be excessively subjective in at least two respects: First, reflective history is excessively subjective insofar as it fails to sufficiently respect the distinction between fact and fiction. Especially its “critical” variety has the tendency to substitute “subjective notions” for “historical data” (PH 9/18f.). Second, reflective history is too subjective insofar as it adheres to a false understanding of the nature of its a priori concepts and claims. In particular, Hegel challenges the assumption that if an idea is a priori, it must derive its justification from something other than history itself. For Hegel, as we saw, the historian has to test her ideas against the facts of history both because she is duty-­bound to apprehend history faithfully, and because history is the only source of verification available to her. The Kantian alternative, according to which our ideas are supposed to derive their legitimacy and authority from pure reason (and thus have a kind of self-­justification), is not just vain but potentially dangerous, in Hegel’s view. We arrive at the conclusion, then, that Hegel’s philosophic method is a priori but not in the Kantian sense. The specific nature of Hegel’s a priori, I have been suggesting, is precisely what allows him to defend the claim that his ideas of history are not mere objects of faith or speculation but are rather knowable by us. Hegel’s a priori is what we might refer to as moderate or conditioned. His method is a priori in that it avoids the naïveté of original history. It embraces the thesis that our historical narratives are invariably a “working through” of factual material and therefore necessarily include a reflective or conceptual component. But Hegel’s a priori is moderate or conditioned in that it must submit to the test of history. His a priori ideas are not insights of intuition or pure reason; they carry no claim to self-­evidence, nor are they immune to revision. They do not attest to the power of human thought to completely abstract itself out of the changeable and chaotic realm of human empirical affairs. Hegel’s a priori cannot have these features, because as he says in his Lectures and elsewhere, no one (not even the clever philosopher) has the capacity to wholly “overstep [überspringen]” their time (PH 55/72, PR Preface 21/26). In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant asserts that human reason “sees itself necessitated to take refuge in principles that overstep all possible use in experience” (CPR A viii). But if the above analysis is on target, we have grounds for supposing that Hegel doubts that taking such refuge is even an option for creatures like us.

3

Necessity in Hegel’s Philosophy of History We established in Chapter  2 that Hegel sets out to convince us that his “philosophic” approach is a promising alternative to both the “original” and “reflective” methods of world history. Philosophic history does not endorse the naïve empiricism of original history because, in common with reflective history, it denies that our historical narratives are capable of directly or immediately capturing the facts. In common with reflective history, philosophic history is faithful to the assumption that our access to the facts is invariably mediated by thought. Philosophic history, like its reflective counterpart, is a “thoughtful consideration [denkende Betrachtung]” of history. But Hegel also insists that his “thoughtful” “a priori” approach to history is something other than an “a priori fabrication [apriorische Erdichtung]”. Although philosophic history brings thought-­forms to its reflections, it considers itself obliged to subject those forms to the test of history. Somehow, then, Hegel’s philosophic method is both a priori and empirically or historically verifiable. This feature of his method suggests a significant departure from Kant. Moreover, the special status Hegel awards his a priori treatment of world history is precisely what allows him to assert, against Kant, that it is possible for us to know the plan and purpose of history. We need to proceed carefully here, however, for even Kant grants that his ideas of the purposive and progressive course of history refer to objects can be known by us in a certain respect. As we saw in Chapter 1, what Kant denies is that these objects can be scientifically or theoretically known. They cannot be scientifically or theoretically known, because they are nowhere to be discovered in experience. Nonetheless, Kant remarks in his “Idea” essay that his thesis that world history is progressing according to nature’s plan can be known to have a certain practical necessity. The idea of progress, he writes, “must be seen as possible” (8:29). More precisely, the idea must be seen as possible if it is to offer us a “consoling perspective on the future [tröstende Aussicht in die Zukunft]” (8:30). The idea gives us hope that the “completed rational aim” will someday be realized in this world (8:30). In giving us hope, the idea is furthermore capable of inspiring us to make the right kinds of choices—­choices that serve the interests of moral improvement (8:31). For Kant, then, ideas of history refer to objects of practical knowledge or faith. But as I suggested in Chapter  1, Kant and Hegel differ on the precise status of ideas of history—­indeed, on the status of ideas of reason overall. As we have seen, Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0004

68  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit Kant argues that ideas of history cannot be scientifically or theoretically known because their objects are nowhere to be discovered in the realm of nature (their objects are not “appearances”, in Kant’s technical sense). Although ideas of reason are practically necessary, they are mere thought-­products, in his view; their origin is a faculty of reason which is “pure” and as such capable of generating concepts that have no basis in experience. We can most accurately identify the point of Hegel’s departure from Kant if we note that he denies that there can be ideas of reason in Kant’s technical sense. As I will argue in Chapter 6, Hegel denies this assumption because he is skeptical of the thesis that our faculty of reason can be wholly pure. Because Hegel rejects this basic Kantian assumption, he does not distinguish theoretical and practical domains of inquiry exactly as Kant does. Nor is he therefore forced to endorse Kant’s thesis that objects of ideas of reason refer to mere thought-­products. Hegel’s denial that there can be ideas of reason in Kant’s sense is precisely what allows him to assert that the purpose and plan of history can be for us more than objects of practical knowledge or faith. Of course, we will need to be more specific about the kind of knowledge Hegel takes to result from his own “philosophic” approach to history. We saw in Chapter 2 that he considers philosophic history to be importantly distinct from original as well as reflective history. Philosophic history resembles reflective history because, as we just recalled, it is a “thoughtful” consideration of history. At the same time, however, it is unlike its reflective counterpart in that it does not result in “a priori fabrications”. Its claims are supposed to be susceptible to historical verification. In the present chapter, my principal task is to prepare the way for properly interpreting this latter claim. On its face, the claim is hard to take seriously, for Hegel repeatedly seems guilty of precisely the sin he warns us not to commit. That is, he seems to indulge in the production of his own set of a priori fantasies. He appears to do so, for instance, when he proclaims that world history follows a rational and necessary course, a course governed by Providence [Vorsehung]. He appears to do so, as well, when he tells us that individuals in world history are innocent pawns caught in a web of fate or necessity. Taken either individually or collectively, claims of this nature can easily be read as expressions of the very kind of a priori fabrication Hegel cautions us to avoid. He repeatedly insists that the historian’s task is to “separate the essential from the so-­called inessential”, and he sometimes boasts that he has successfully and comprehensively done so (PH 68/88). He suggests that, in his estimation, he has eliminated all traces of contingency from his system, and he hardly conveys the impression that he is open to the possibility that history may one day reveal that his grand narrative is off the mark.89 89  Hegel awards the status of necessity not just to his philosophy of world history. He asserts that it is philosophy’s general task to separate the essential from the inessential:

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  69 But the situation is by no means this straightforward. As we will see, Hegel never sets out to wholly eliminate contingency from his historical narrative. His objective of revealing the necessity in history does not rest on the assumption that accidents are nowhere to be discovered in human affairs. Nor does Hegel try to persuade us that history is necessary in that it has been predetermined to unfold along a single path and therefore could not have been otherwise. We need to separate two interpretative challenges: One is that of determining the precise respect in which Hegel considers his idea of world history to be both a priori and susceptible to historical confirmation. How does he try to convince us that his idea of history is more than an a priori fabrication? How is his “philosophic” method a priori as well as empirical? These are large questions about Hegel’s overall account of the nature of human reason and its products, and I attempt to answer them in the remaining chapters of this work. My preoccupation in the present chapter, however, is with the second and more manageable interpretative challenge, namely that of clarifying the kind of necessity Hegel claims to discover in world history. In section 3.1, I review passages in which he attributes necessity to history and consider three preliminary interpretations of what he might take that necessity to imply. In 3.2, I begin my defense of the thesis that his account of necessity reserves a significant role for contingency in history. In sections  3.3–3.5, I then suggest that the necessity of history is for Hegel ultimately linked to what he takes to be its purposive unity. Given that he argues that this unity is furnished by an idea of freedom, we are left with the paradoxical-­sounding conclusion that the necessity of history is for Hegel made possible by an idea of freedom. Moreover, he takes that idea to refer to an object we can actually know.

3.1  The Necessity of History: Three Initial Interpretations Hegel frequently asserts that the development of world history is “necessary”. He writes, for example, that world history has been “the rational, necessary course of World Spirit” (PH 13/22).90 Spirit does not, “toss itself about in the external play of

[T]he name philosophy has been given to that knowledge [Wissen] that deals with the cognition [Erkenntnis] of fixed measures and with the universal in the sea of empirical particularities, and with the necessary, the laws, in the sea of apparent disorder in the infinite mass of the contingent(EL §7). Later in this same text, he adds that it is “quite correct to say that the task of science and, more precisely, of philosophy, consists generally in coming to know the necessity that is hidden under the appearance [Schein] of contingency” (EL §145A). As he puts the point in the Preface to his Philosophy of Right, the task of philosophy is to “recognize in the semblance of the temporal and transient, the substance which is immanent and the eternal which is present” (PR Preface 20/25). 90  The “immanent development of Spirit”, he says, is “necessary” (PH 28/41).

70  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit chance occurrences or contingencies [äußerlichen Spiel von Zufälligkeiten]”91; rather, its development unfolds with “conceptual necessity [Begriffsnotwendigkeit]” (PH 81/104). In some passages, Hegel’s characterization of world history seems unambiguously fatalistic. Spirit’s “first traces”, he says, “virtually contain all history” (PH 21/31). Everything that happens “corresponds” to what “was previously known and willed [was vorher gewußt und gewollt wurde]” (EL §147A). History is indeed the fulfillment of divine Providence, the “march of God in the world” (PH 16/26, 23/33, 39/53; PR §258A). But what does Hegel exactly mean when he claims to discover necessity—­even “conceptual” necessity—­in history? What do his remarks about divine Providence actually commit him to? In this section, I survey some possible answers to these questions in order to narrow the field of plausible interpretations. This will set the stage for the task I undertake in subsequent sections of piecing together a more accurate portrayal of his view.

3.1.1  The Course of History is Sufficiently Conditioned According to this first interpretative possibility, when Hegel writes of the “necessary course of World Spirit”, he implies that the course of Spirit is sufficiently conditioned or caused. For any event, y, that occurs in Spirit’s development, there is an antecedent condition or set of conditions, x, such that, given x, y had to happen. Event y, then, was necessitated in that the causes or conditions in place were sufficient for its production. According to this interpretation of necessity, there is indeed some kind of inevitability to the occurrence of any event y. More precisely, there is inevitability to the occurrence of y, once conditions x are in place. Of course, the claim that no event comes into being without a sufficient condition (or set of conditions) is compatible with the thesis that a variety of causes or conditions could be sufficient for bringing y into being. That a condition or set of conditions is sufficient for y, does not in other words imply that that condition or set of conditions is also necessary for y. Although conditions a, b, and c actually brought Joe’s demise, an alternative set of conditions, d, e, and f could have led to Joe’s demise. The conditions that in fact led to Joe’s demise, then, “could have been otherwise”. In this respect, there is contingency in the particular set of conditions that actually brings (or brought) y into being. Very possibly, Hegel’s references to the necessity of world history are intended to capture this point about sufficient conditions. That is, his thesis could be that events of history are necessary simply because they cannot have come about in the absence of sufficient conditions. Before proceeding further, however, we 91  The “world is not subject [preisgegeben] to chance and to external contingencies” (PH 15/25; see also PH 58/75).

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  71 should bear an important qualification in mind. I have been referring in this discussion to “events” and “causes”, but this language is potentially misleading given the nature of the object with which Hegel’s philosophy of history is concerned. As we saw in Chapter 2, Hegel characterizes his philosophy of history as a history of Spirit, that is, of human freedom. World history is the actualization of the “necessary development of the moments of reason out of the concept of Spirit’s freedom” (PR §342). In the context of his philosophy of history, he is not primarily interested in the kind of events that occur in the interactions among and behaviors of non-spiritual beings, beings incapable of freedom. The development he seeks to explain is a development in Spirit; and Spirit possesses the unique capacity of self-­consciousness, the capacity to know itself in its acts of thinking and knowing (PH 20f./30f.). Hegel’s philosophy of history just is the story of development in Spirit’s consciousness and expressions of its freedom (PH 58/76, 64/83; PR §4A). Without spelling out this point in further detail here, we should not lose sight of the fact that Hegel distinguishes the causes or conditions of Spirit’s development with the kind of causes that move non-­spiritual nature. Moreover, and as we will see in what follows, it is a mistake to assume that we can explain Spirit’s development solely with reference to changes in its mental life. Spirit is in possession of unique features that distinguish it especially from non-­spirited objects such as matter. But Spirit, for Hegel, nonetheless inhabits nature; it is “of course [zwar]” involved with the “conditions of nature” (PH 77/99).92 The fact that Spirit inhabits nature opens up the possibility that some of its development is at least partially attributable to nature.

3.1.2  The Course of History is Necessarily and Sufficiently Conditioned On this second interpretation, Hegel holds not just that, for any event, y, there is an antecedent condition or set of conditions, x, such that, given x, y had to happen. He furthermore means to assert that for everything that happens, there is only one possible set or series of conditions. According to this view, conditions x are necessary rather than contingent in the following respect: only conditions x could have brought y into being. This position is often referred to as “fatalism” understood as a thesis of predetermination. Fatalism comes in different varieties depending on how we specify the nature of the preconditions. Some hold that what is fated or predetermined are laws of logic; others have in mind natural 92  Although the “substance” of world history is Spirit rather than nature, physical nature “impinges on world history [greift in die Weltgeschichte ein]” (PH 19/29). Spirit must therefore contend with nature, which often obstructs or limits its aims (PH 77/99). This is not the place to defend the point, but Hegel’s distinction between Spirit and nature is more one of degree than of kind. See Chapter 5, section 1 in this volume.

72  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit causal conditions. Some ascribe intentionality to the forces of fate, and claim that all that happens is the result of the conscious plan of an all-­powerful intelligent being. In asserting that only one possible condition or set of conditions could have produced y, this second interpretation obviously rules out one kind of contingency. It rules out the kind of contingency we associated with the first interpretation, according to which the conditions in question are sufficient but not necessary.

3.1.3  The Course of History is Logically Necessary This third interpretation is a species of the second. Like the second, it attributes to Hegel a thesis of fatalism as well in that, like the second, it assumes that he holds that the course of history could have unfolded only in one way. But this third interpretation specifies that the impossibility of alternative developments is conceptual or logical rather than metaphysical. In this view, a different course of history is unimaginable or unthinkable in the sense of logically self-­contradictory. Although this reading of Hegel is extreme, it cannot be dismissed outright. It might seem to capture what Hegel has in mind when he remarks that Spirit’s development is governed by “conceptual necessity [Begriffsnotwendigkeit]” (PH 81/104). From the material we reviewed in our previous chapter, however, we can extract one reason for doubting that Hegel is committed to this third view of the necessity of history. As we saw, he claims that his “thoughtful consideration [denkende Betrachtung] of history” rests on an appeal, not just to what it is possible for us to coherently think, but to the facts of history itself. On his account, the historian is duty bound to avoid “a priori fabrications” (PH 13/22). The philosophic historian must “take history as it is, and proceed historically, empirically [wir haben historisch, empirisch zu verfahren]” (PH 13/22). A proper philosophy of history, Hegel thus seems to suggest, is more than a mere thought-­experiment. Hegel gives us further reasons to conclude that he is not committed to the thesis that history’s course is logically necessary. He tells us in a passage in the Encyclopaedia Logic that he finds little of philosophical interest in the merely logically possible, that is, in what we can think without contradiction. Serious philosophy is not concerned with the merely logically possible, he says, because the range of what is logically possible excludes so little. It is after all logically possible, “that this evening’s moon will fall on the earth . . . [or that] the Sultan will become Pope” (EL §143A). Rather than squander its resources contemplating fantasies or “phantasms”, serious philosophy concerns itself with possibilities that have become “actual”. Hegel indeed asserts that the “content [Inhalt]” of philosophy is

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  73 “actuality [Wirklichkeit]” (EL §6). He thereby gives us reason to doubt that, when he describes history’s course as “necessary”, his message is about the mere logical impossibility of its having followed a different course.93 To summarize the main points of this section: We reviewed three interpretations of what Hegel could mean by the “necessity” of world history. He might mean, first, that anything that happens in history is the product of sufficient conditions. As we saw, this interpretation is compatible with the view that the particular set of conditions that sufficiently brought x into being is itself contingent and therefore could have been otherwise. According to the second and third interpretations, the conditions governing any event are not just sufficient but also necessary. Each is a thesis of fatalism or predetermination in that each denies the possibility of alternative conditions. History could not have unfolded in any other way than it has. According to the third interpretation, Hegel is committed to the thesis that the development of history is necessary in that no alternative course is even thinkable or intelligible. This third interpretation takes Hegel to endorse what we might refer to as “logical fatalism”. These are three possible interpretations of what Hegel could mean by the necessity of history. They are not exhaustive, but they give us tools that will help us identify his actual position.

3.2  History’s Necessity: Further Precision In this section, I begin my defense of the following three interpretative proposals: First, in claiming that world history follows a necessary course, Hegel does not intend to altogether deny a role for contingency in history. Second, he does not interpret “contingent” to mean uncaused or unconditioned. That is, his commitment to the existence of contingencies in history is compatible with the assumptions that everything that happens in nature is sufficiently caused and that all ideas are sufficiently conditioned. Third, Hegel is not a fatalist in any of the senses I just outlined. His philosophy of history narrates a story of human freedom or Spirit, and his conception of Spirit is compatible with a robust commitment to the reality of human agency. He holds that the course of history is both necessary and to a significant degree up to us. The reason I say that I “begin” to defend these three proposals is because their more complete defense will require further work in subsequent chapters. In the present section, I review passages from the Lectures on the Philosophy of History 93  For further defense of the view that Hegel does not equate conceptual necessity with logical necessity, see e.g. Thomas Posch’s “Hegel and the Sciences” in A Companion to Hegel, eds S. Houlgate and M.  Baur (Chichester: Blackwell Publishing Ltd., 2011), 177–202. Posch argues that conceptual necessity is indeed for Hegel the “opposite” of “abstract representability”, and that Hegel does not intend it to “preclude reference to experience”, 181f.

74  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit that reveal some of the respects in which Hegel considers it to be the philosopher’s task to discover necessity in history. In the service of clarifying the precise kind of necessity he has in mind, I extract from these passages indications of the specific problems that motivate his discussion. I consider the following most obvious respects in which Hegel takes philosophy of history to concern itself with necessity: (3.2.1)  The philosophy of history is not concerned with contingencies in the sense of “empirical particularities [empirische Einzelne]”. (3.2.2)  The philosophy of history denies that everything that happens is attributable to “chance [Zufall]”. (3.2.3)  The philosophy of history requires its investigations to be “scientific [wissenschaftlich]”.

3.2.1  The Philosophy of History is not Concerned with Contingencies in the Sense of “Empirical Particularities” Hegel repeatedly declares that “empirical particularities” are not the proper concern of world history (PH 37f./52). Since the category “empirical particularities” by itself excludes very little, we need to try to specify precisely what Hegel has in mind. What examples does he give us of particularities that should be of no concern to the philosopher of history? One answer to this question is fairly obvious: he insists that the acts and motivations of particular individuals should be of no interest to the philosopher of history.

Particular Individuals are of no Interest to the Philosopher of History. Hegel remarks that individuals are “of slight importance compared to the mass of the human race” (PH 23/34). Individuals are of slight importance, because the object of the philosophy of history is world history, and world history is for Hegel a history of a species rather than of individuals. World history, in other words, is the history of the human race as a whole. More precisely, and as we saw in Chapter 2, world history is a history of nations or states. As a history of nations or states, world history does not set out to relay the details of individual lives. This is why Hegel asserts that the philosophy of history, “cannot make the so-­called prosperity or misfortune of this or that single man into an element of the rational world-­order” (PH 37/51). Some qualification is called for here, however, because Hegel does not argue that no individuals are of world historical interest. History has its share of extraordinary individuals, namely those “heroes” whose actions have world-­historical significance. Such individuals are of historical interest, in Hegel’s view, because

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  75 they “willed and accomplished something great” (PH 34/47). A philosophy of history must record their unique accomplishments.94 Needless to say, Hegel’s endorsement of the ‘great men of history’ thesis has earned him a great deal of criticism, even ridicule. He seems to indulge in mindless (not to mention racist and sexist) hero worship and be all too ready to dismiss the accomplishments of the ‘little’ person. Even worse, he sometimes appears wholly comfortable with the thought that the ordinary individual may be sacrificed without regret in the service of the world whole. Hegel gives this impression, for instance, when he remarks that history from time to time requires that its ‘great men’ “trample on many innocent flowers” and “crush” whatever gets in their way (PH 35/49).95 But passages like this admit of a more charitable reading. If we consider the position Hegel is concerned to oppose, we can better grasp his reasons for considering himself justified in elevating only certain individuals to world-­historical significance. Hegel opposes what he calls the “psychological [psychologisch]” perspective on human action, a view about the possible repertoire of human motivations. According to this view, all human action may be sufficiently explained with reference to passions that are merely “subjective” in that they serve some “pathological craving” (PH 34/47). Hegel charges that those who adhere to this position are essentially engaged in a debunking project. Perhaps out of “envy [Neid]”, these “psychologists” are fond of “latching on to the peculiarities of great historical figures as private persons” (PH 34/47f.). In unmasking a hero’s frailties, they adopt the perspective of the hero’s “valet” (PH 34/48).96 They tell us, for instance, that Homer’s Thersites was a man consumed by “envy and egoism”, and that the brave acts of Alexander of Macedon were ultimately motivated by a “craving for conquest” or “fame” (PH 34f./45f.). Hegel observes that this effort to crush hero worship, “explains all actions as coming from some subjective source, great or small, in the individual—­some pathological craving for the sake of which all his actions are done, as though there never had been anyone who acted from moral motives” (PH 34/47). The central message of the “psychologists” is that heroes are essentially no better than the rest of us. Even heroes are motivated by all-­too-­human—­ indeed sometimes entirely petty—­passions.97 94  Kant defends a version of the ‘great men of history’ thesis as well, for example, in his 1784 essay, “What is Enlightenment?”. In his words, “there will always be a few independent thinkers, . . . who, after throwing off the yoke of tutelage [Unmündigkeit], will disseminate the spirit of a rational estimation both of their own worth and of every man’s vocation for thinking for himself ” (8:36). 95  “Ein welthistorisches Individuum . . . muß manche unschuldige Blume zertreten” (my emphasis). 96 See Hegel’s discussions of the “psychological” perspective of the valet also in PR §124 and PhG ¶665. 97  Terry Pinkard argues that the greatness of Hegel’s historical heroes was simply a matter of luck (being at the right place at the right time) and not attributable to “intrinsically superb quality” (Does History Make Sense?, note 74 to Chapter 4). Although it is plausible that figures such as Socrates and Jesus may to some extent have been vehicles of forces unknown to them and beyond their control

76  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit Hegel grants that a “first look at history” appears to support the thesis that all human action is ultimately driven by highly particular, self-­centered interests. A first look might seem to warrant us, then, in concluding either that there are no “universal aims” or that such aims are “insignificant” or perhaps illusory. It might persuade us that the actions of human agents stem from nothing more than “their needs, their passions, their interests, their characters and talents” (PH 23/34).98 But Hegel rejects this “psychological” perspective and commits himself to a more generous portrayal of human action, one that allows for the possibility of genuinely moral motivation (PH 34/47). Precisely because moral motivation is possible, there can be heroes in history, on his account. History gives us examples of individuals who inspire awe, individuals whose ideas or actions are indeed of universal significance (PH 23/34). “World-­historical” individuals do exist, and these are individuals “whose aims embody a universal concept [in deren Zwecken ein solches Allgemeines liegt]” (PH 32/45). The aims of such extraordinary individuals “contain [enthalten] the substantial will that is the will of world Spirit” (PH 32/45).99 To summarize the results of our discussion up to this point: We need to interpret Hegel’s interest in necessity in light of how he understands his specific task at hand. On his account, the philosopher of history abstracts from “empirical particularities” and focusses only on what is “necessary”, because the proper object of a philosophy of history is the history of the human race as a whole. Not every individual’s passions and actions have significance for humanity as a whole; not every particular motivation and action is therefore relevant to world history. It is not the task of the philosopher of history to “make the so-­called prosperity or misfortune of this or that single man into an element of the rational world-­order” (PH 37/51).100

Other Empirical Particularities are of no Interest to the Philosopher of History. Recall that the aim of our present discussion is to identify Hegel’s reasons for excluding empirical particularities from his philosophy of history. We can achieve (including the “cunning of reason”), the passages I have quoted suggest that Hegel would not want to deny that these figures possessed extraordinary qualities. 98  After all, a man “must eat and drink, he enters into relations with friends and acquaintances, he has feelings and moments of anger” (PH 34/48). 99  In the Addition to §377 of his Encyclopaedia, Hegel accuses “pragmatic treatments” of history of fixating on the “contingent particularities” of human nature and of thus failing to appreciate the “substantial character of world-­historical individuals”. Pragmatic treatments trace the greatest events of history to the “accidental idiosyncrasies” of heroes and their “presumed petty aims, inclinations and passions”; they thereby reduce history to a “play of meaningless [gehaltloser] activity and contingent happenings”. Hegel discusses these points also in PR §343, where he criticizes those for whom history is no more than a “superficial play of contingent and allegedly ‘merely human’ aspirations and passions”. 100  For further discussion of whether Hegel lets world-­historical individuals off the moral hook, see Mark Alznauer, Hegel’s Theory of Responsibility (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2015), 183–187.

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  77 our goal without providing a comprehensive list of the kinds of particularities he wishes to exclude; nonetheless, it will serve our purposes to fill in the details of this picture a bit more. As we just noted, the interests and actions of specific individuals have no place in world history, at least insofar as those interests and actions lack world historical significance. What does warrant inclusion, however, is what is intimately connected with the story of “Spirit”, that is, with the story of human freedom. “World history”, on Hegel’s description, “presents the development of consciousness, the development of Spirit’s consciousness of its freedom, and the actualization that is produced by that consciousness” (PH 67/86). This focus on freedom is important because of the limitations it places on what properly belongs under the heading of world history. It is worth pointing out that although Hegel describes world history as interested in the “development [Entwicklung]” of Spirit’s consciousness of its freedom, he means that history is interested in human activity only once Spirit has arrived on the scene, that is, only once human nature has achieved a certain level of self-­ awareness and is therefore conscious of its freedom. For this reason, human nature as it exists in a state of nature is not strictly speaking an object of world history. World history, as Hegel defines it, begins when “rationality begins to enter into worldly existence” (PH 62f./81). Spirit in its “inorganic existence”, that is, as the “unconscious ignorance of freedom, of good and evil, and hence of laws”, is not essential to world history (PH 62f./81). The “natural” situation in the family, or in a “natural society”, in which members do not yet recognize themselves and each other as “persons” (that is, as creatures bearing rights), is “not itself an object of history” (PH 63/81).101 It is furthermore worth noting that Hegel concludes from his assumption that world history treats of human nature as Spirit, that only a certain kind of state or nation is a proper object of its consideration. World history seeks to describe the “development” and “actualization” of freedom as it has shown up in “nations”, that is, in “wholes that are states” (PH 16/26; see also PH 41/56). The kind of state or nation Hegel has in mind, however, cannot have as its central purpose the satisfaction of merely contingent needs. If we confine the role of the state to the satisfaction of the “contingencies of want, need of protection, strength, wealth, etc.”, we identify the state with what Hegel calls “civil society [bürgerliche Gesellschaft]”. Considered simply as civil society, the proper “end” of the state is the “security of life and property of individuals” (PR §324).102 Properly understood, however, world history concerns itself instead with the “substance” of the state, that is, with 101  In Chapter 2, note 68, I say more about Hegel’s claim that world history begins only when individuals are in a position to recognize each other as “persons [Personen]”. 102  We consider war as serving merely the interests of civil society, for instance, when we think of it as a “purely external contingency” principally intended to secure a state’s property and power. In our preoccupation with the “vanity of temporal things”, we overlook war’s “ethical” nature, its true “substance” and “serious significance” (PR §324).

78  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit the state’s “rational content”. Understood simply as civil society, the state is not a proper object of world history (PR §258). A state’s “ethical essence” is for Hegel tied to its role in securing freedom—­a freedom that consists in more than the satisfaction of “contingent” needs (PR §324). We are now in a position to specify one respect in which Hegel takes world history to concern itself with what is necessary. For Hegel, we determine what is or is not necessary with reference to our particular domain of inquiry and its specific aims. Given that world history concerns itself with the “substance” or “ra­ tional content” of a state, it does not take as its object the “prosperity or misfortune of this or that single man”. Nor is it interested in the state considered principally as an organization intended to provide for the satisfaction of “contingencies” of human need or happiness.103

3.2.2  The Philosophy of History Denies that Everything that Happens is Attributable to “Chance [Zufall]” Hegel informs us that his philosophy of history draws inspiration from Anaxagoras, for whom “reason” or “noûs” “rules the world” (PH 12–14/20–23). This Anaxagorean principle, he says, supplies a welcome antidote to the Epicurean assumption that all that happens is attributable to “chance [Zufall]” (PH 15/24; see also 13/22). But what does Hegel have in mind, exactly, by chance occurrences or events? Are such events uncaused or unconditioned? Does Hegel in other words mean to imply that Epicurus is committed to the assumption that something can come from nothing? Or do chance events, for Hegel, refer to events that are caused but whose cause is unknown—­perhaps even unknowable—­by us? As we will see, the view Hegel attributes to Epicurus is none of these. On Hegel’s account, chance events are taken by the Epicurean to be both caused or conditioned and knowable. In addition, they are assumed to be sufficiently treated by a mechanical form of explanation. Hegel attributes this interpretation of chance to Epicurus in the following passage from his Lectures on the History of Philosophy: Epicurus wholly denies that the concept and the universal are what is essential. All existing things are contingent connections [zufällige Verbindungen], and their resolution is itself contingent. For what is divided is the first and true

103  As many have pointed out, Hegel borrows from Aristotle the idea that the necessary and immanent development of any object—­whether a living organism, world history of the Concept—­is governed by the kind of object it is, that is, by its essence. I do not trace that influence here, but see e.g. James Kreines in “The Logic of Life: Hegel’s Philosophical Defense of Natural Teleology”, in Cambridge Companion to Hegel, 2nd edn, ed. F. Beiser (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 344–377; Matthew Boyle, “Essentially Rational Animals,” in Rethinking Epistemology, vol. 2., eds G. Abel and J. Conant (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter Verlag, 2012), 395–428.

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  79 being, and contingency is the law of connection. Because contingency is what governs, everything purposive [Zweckmäßige] and therefore also all end goals [Endzweck] of the world drop out [hinwegfällt]. (LHP II, 291–292/VGP II 313)

Notice that Hegel here identifies Epicurus’ denial that “the concept and the universal” are “essential” with the claim that purposes or end goals cannot be discovered in “existing things”. He thus equates the Epicurean proposal that all events come about by “chance [Zufall]” or by “contingent connections” with the thesis that all that happens is governed by a causality of nature, more precisely, by a purely mechanical causality. Hegel does not suggest in this passage that Epicurus held that all that happens in nature is uncaused. Nor does he imply that Epicurus denied that we can discover patterns or regularities in nature. Hegel instead attributes to Epicurus the assumption that patterns or regularities in nature can be sufficiently explained with reference to mechanical causes. As he remarks elsewhere in the Lectures, the problem with Epicurus is that he was “unfaithful [untreu] to the thoughts of Aristotle, because he led everything back to mech­an­ ism and chance”; he reserved no place in his system for “teleological” ends (LHP II 225/VGP II 245). In rejecting the Epicurean thesis that everything happens by chance, Hegel thus commits himself to the assumption that what happens in human history is “necessary” at least in the following respect: not everything that happens in history can be adequately explained by mechanical means. We saw back in Chapter  1 that Hegel follows Kant in arguing that a purely mechanical approach is ill-­suited to the aims of a philosophy of history. Human history cannot be explained simply by appealing to chance; its explanation must avail itself of the resources of a teleological approach. That is, the historian must consider the objects of her investigation through the lens of a causality of purposes. Although we discussed this issue earlier, it will be worth our while to explore it further for the following reason: Hegel’s commitment to teleology is central to his insistence upon history’s necessity. Before reviewing the argument in favor of a teleological approach, we need to clear away one particularly tempting misinterpretation. It might be supposed that Hegel’s dismissal of the value of mechanical explanation for his philosophy of history derives from his assumption that the object of world history is significantly different in kind from that of natural scientific inquiry. After all, world history is in general not concerned with physical forces acting upon matter; its object is not geological change or the evolution of human physiognomy. As we saw a moment ago, the proper object of world history is instead the “development of Spirit’s ­consciousness of its freedom” (PH 67/86). The causes or conditions that explain the progress of human freedom are of a different order than the forces that move inorganic nature or matter. As Hegel explains, “historical narration [Geschichtserzählung]” concerns “actions and events that are properly historical”

80  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit (PH 64/83). Actions and events are properly historical only if they bear not just on the “objective” side of history (on actual deeds) but also on the “subjective” side, that is, on the side that pertains to Spirit’s consciousness of its freedom (PH 64/83). The fact that Hegel’s world history focuses its attention on the subjective side of history, however, does not account for his objections to a purely mechanical form of explanation. As I noted back in Chapter  1, he follows Kant in holding that mechanism is insufficient to explain not just spirit but nature as well.104 To achieve its explanatory objectives in both domains, mechanism must rely on a further kind of causality, namely a causality of purposes. The argument in favor of this conclusion is by no means straightforward, and we will need to consider it in some detail. I am going to begin with a sketch of Kant’s diagnosis of the deficiencies of mechanical explanation because Hegel was clearly influenced by it. In section 3.3, I make the case that, although Hegel shared Kant’s assessment of the limits of mechanism, he did not accept Kant’s proposal for overcoming those limits. The Problem with Mechanical Explanation. Kant describes the mechanical explanation of natural events as explanation by means of antecedent efficient causes. To borrow his own example from the third Critique, in seeking to explain the flight of birds, we begin by breaking the event down into the parts we deem explanatorily salient—­parts that, in conjunction with natural laws, presumably contribute to the production of the event. We observe the structure of birds’ bodies and “how their bones are hollow, how their wings are positioned to produce motion and their tails to permit steering” (CJ §61 [360]). We assume a framework of natural causation. In doing so, we presuppose that everything that happens in nature is determined by natural causal forces, a “nexus effectivus in nature”. In making this assumption, we rule out the possibility of uncaused events as well as of events that may be explained by means of some non-natural mode of causation (a causality that is not in time—­a causality of freedom, for example). Kant argues that the principle that every event in nature is caused is a necessary condition of anything’s appearing to us as an object of nature (CJ Intro. V [183]). He in addition points out that principles that are “constitutive” or “determinative” 104  Hegel thus follows not just Kant but also Aristotle. In one of his earliest writings, he remarks (borrowing language from Schelling) that we must consider nature as an “immanent ideality” (D 166/107). See Hegel’s praise for Aristotle’s critique of the Greek atomists Democritus and Leucippus in LHP I 308ff./VGP I 353ff. I have benefitted from David Kolb’s discussion of this critique in the first section of his “Darwin Rocks Hegel: Does Nature Have a History?”, Bulletin of the Hegel Society of Great Britain, no. 57/58, 2008: 97–116. Hegel’s respect for Aristotle is evident, for example, in his remark that Aristotle’s “books on the soul [Seele] . . . remain the most excellent or only treatment of speculative interest about this object” (EG §378). Excellent discussions of Aristotle’s influence on Hegel include, G. R. G Mure’s classic, An Introduction to Hegel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1940) (the first third of which is devoted to Aristotle); Alfredo Ferrarin, Hegel and Aristotle (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), and his paper, “Hegel’s Aristotle: Philosophy and Its Time”, in A Companion to Hegel, eds S. Houlgate and M. Baur (Chichester: Blackwell Publishing, 2011), 433–451.

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  81 with respect to objects of nature nonetheless do not supply all the conditions required for our experience or science of nature (CJ Intro. V [183f.], §61 [360]). The limits of mechanism become apparent once we turn our attention to some of those additional conditions.105 When we set out to explain a given event, y, we seek grounds for concluding more than just that event y was preceded by event x; we seek grounds for asserting that event y was caused by event x. We look for justification for the assumption that the sequence ‘x, then y’ is repeatable. More precisely, we seek justification for inferring that under similar circumstances, x will produce y in the future. In addition, we want reasons for inferring that causes like x will produce causes like y in the future. This is what is involved in seeking explanations for the behavior and interactions of natural phenomena. Explanations require as a condition of their possibility the discovery of regularities or laws (CJ Intro. V [185]). Kant argues that the principle that every event is caused, although constitutive or determinative of objects of nature, is insufficient for scientific as well as ordinary explanation. His strategy for persuading us of this point is to ask us to appreciate that the principle is consistent with an assumption that undercuts the very possibility of our efforts to know or experience nature. Crucially, he points out that the principle that every event is caused is consistent with the thesis that every event has a unique cause. Were we to assume that there are “just as many different powers as there are different effects”, we would be without means of finding regularities or patterns in nature. We would have no basis for claims such as, “this particular kind of cause tends to produce this particular kind of effect”. We would in other words be unable to form empirical laws. Kant therefore concludes that mechanical explanation requires as a condition of its possibility more than the general principle that every event is caused (CJ Intro. V [183], §61 [360]).106 105  In the first Critique, Kant identifies the principles of the understanding (such as the causal law) as “constitutive”. They are applications of the categories to appearances (CPR A 148/B 188). They are in other words rules for the empirical employment of the categories. Appearances necessarily conform to and instantiate these principles. (For example, our experience of something as an event is an experience of the instantiation of the category of causality.) Principles of pure reason, however, are not constitutive in this way. In Kant’s words, they are never constitutive “in respect of empirical concepts” (CPR A 664/B 692). Although also necessary for our experience and science of nature, principles of pure reason (in contrast with principles of pure understanding) bear no immediate relation to appearances; their immediate object is instead the faculty of the understanding because they are rules that govern that faculty. Objects of the principles of reason, such as purpose or systematic unity, are outside the limits of space and time and therefore not discoverable in experience. This is why Kant writes of principles of pure reason, that “no schema of sensibility corresponding to them can be given” (CPR A 664/B 693). I discuss these matters more thoroughly in Hegel’s Critique of Kant: From Dichotomy to Identity (Oxford University Press, 2012), 27f. When Kant picks these points up again in the Critique of Judgment, he sometimes identifies the latter “regulative” principles (principles of “reflective” judgment) as “subjective” (as holding “only for the subject”). He contrasts these principles or rules with those that are “objective” (CJ Intro. V [185]). In the former case, he says, judgment prescribes these principles, not to nature but to “itself ”. It is worth stressing that “subjective”, in this context, does not for Kant imply optional. 106  Were we to suppose that every event has a unique cause, nature would contain for us an “endless diversity of empirical laws” (CJ Intro [184]). An “endless diversity of empirical laws” is equivalent, for Kant, to no empirical laws at all. He furthermore argues—­already in the first Critique—­that we need

82  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit What further assumption or assumptions must be brought into play? Kant’s answer is that we need grounds for denying that there are “as many different kinds of causality as there are special differences among natural effects” (CJ Intro. V [185]). Put positively, we need reasons for asserting that certain kinds of objects have properties that, under specific conditions, tend to produce certain kinds of effects. We need grounds for inferences such as, “plants of this variety are poisonous” or “creatures of this kind can fly”. We give ourselves such reasons, Kant argues, only if we presuppose that nature admits of division into kinds. Only if we assume that behind or underlying the “infinite variety” of phenomena is a “unity of fundamental properties”, are we warranted in inferring that it is not just an accident that winged creatures can fly (CPR A 649/B 677, A 652/B 680). In supposing that this is no accident, we effectively commit ourselves to the assumption that wings are the kind of thing that enables flight; we assume they are suitable for doing so. We assume, Kant says, that they were as if designed for that purpose.107 Kant wants us to appreciate that if we presuppose that nature admits of division into kinds, we in effect consider nature not as a contingent aggregate of accidentally connected parts, but rather as an as if purposively arranged whole (CJ §61 [360]).108 That is, we think of nature as what he sometimes refers to as a “systematic unity” (CPR A 647/B 675, A 697/B 725).109 We conceive of nature not as a “blind mechanism” but as a unity whose parts are as if purposively fashioned in order to produce and maintain each other as well as the whole. We conceive of nature, in other words, as an artefact.110 to assume that nature admits to being divided into species and genera even in order to form empirical concepts (A 653f./B 681f.; see also CJ V [185]). This is not the place to compare Kant’s treatment of these matters in the Critique of Pure Reason and the Critique of Judgment. I do so, however, in Hegel’s Critique of Kant, Chapter 1, sections 1.2 and 1.3. 107  To describe an object as “as if designed” is of course weaker than describing it as “designed”. But Kant insists that the most we are entitled to assume is that parts of nature are combined as if designed by a supreme intelligence or architect. In presupposing that nature is teleologically arranged (that is, arranged according to a causality of purposes or final causes), we do not give ourselves license, then, either for positing an “intelligent being above nature as its architect” or for turning nature itself into an “intelligent being” capable of generating its own purposes (CJ §68 [383]). See also CPR A 686f./B 714f. 108  Kant writes that if we consider nature as a “mere mechanism”, we in effect presuppose that all that happens is an accident. We assume that nature, “could have structured itself differently in a thousand ways without hitting on precisely the unity in terms of a principle of purposes” (CJ §61 [360]). This point is well appreciated by Michelle Grier in Kant’s Doctrine of Transcendental Illusion (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001). As Grier argues, the employment of the understanding is for Kant ‘grounded’ upon reason’s demand for systematic unity, 288. 109  Nature, on this model, is a “cognizable order” in terms of empirical laws (CJ Intro. V [185]). 110  When we identify an object as an artefact, we assume that at least some of its parts are related to each other and to the whole non-­accidentally. Kant asks us to imagine discovering a figure of a hexagon traced in the sand. We would likely assume that its parts were not combined by chance; we would suppose, instead, that its parts had been purposively combined (CJ §64 [370]). In considering nature as a systematic unity, we likewise presuppose that its parts are as if purposively arranged (CJ §61 [360]). In the case of nature, however, we suppose that the purpose is self-­produced rather than externally imposed. Natural purposes are on this account “self-­organizing” beings: “just as each part exists only as a result of all the rest, so we also think of each part as existing for the sake of the others and of the whole” (CJ §65 [373]).

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  83 The point to bear in mind is that unless we think of nature in this way (that is, on analogy with a purposively arranged whole), we lack a necessary condition of ordinary as well scientific explanation. Without the assumption that nature is an as if purposively arranged totality, we give ourselves no grounds for supposing that parts of nature are related to each other and to the whole of nature—­not merely accidently or contingently—­but with “necessity”, as Kant says (CJ § 64 [370]).111 We give ourselves no means of discovering the regularities or empirical laws that provide the very basis of “empirical cognition” (CJ §67 [370]).112 A moment ago, I mentioned that Hegel follows Kant in arguing for the necessity of the idea of purpose for historical explanation. Regarding the latter, we saw in Chapter  1 that both philosophers embrace the assumption that a history or “narration [Erzählung]” of human affairs is possible only if we presuppose that the course of human affairs is more than a mere “planless aggregate” or “confused and irregular” series of happenings (8:29).113 As Kant puts the point in “Idea for a Universal History”, we provide a “narration” only if we discover evidence in our subject matter of “regular movement” (8:17). The very possibility of world history depends, then, on the assumption that events are connected as if purposively rather than simply by “blind chance” (8:18). The two philosophers agree as well regarding the indispensability of the idea of purpose for our experience and explanations of nature. With Kant, Hegel insists that we cannot carry out our inquiries into nature—­inorganic as well as  organic—­without appealing to the idea of the systematic or purposive unity of  nature as a whole.114 Hegel describes as “impoverished” the mechanical approach that treats parts of nature as merely “indifferently” or “externally” related This may be the place to note that a causality of purposes is for Kant necessary not just to explain organisms, but to explain all of nature. In CJ §67 [379], for example, he describes nature as a “system in accordance with the rule of ends [Zwecke], to which all of the mechanism of nature in accordance with principles of reason must . . . be subordinated [untergeordnet]” (see also his discussion at CJ §25 [250]). 111  It is the idea of nature as a purposively connected whole, Kant says, that is precisely what gives the form of the whole its “necessity” (CJ § 64 [370]). 112  I have been claiming that the idea of purpose is for Kant a necessary condition of ordinary as well as scientific explanation. Curiously, however, Kant writes in one passage that we cannot actually “explain” nature by means of a causality of purposes (CJ §61 [360]). What he means, however, is that a causality of purposes cannot explain nature if we suppose that such a causality has ontological import. The passage occurs in the context of a discussion in which Kant warns us not to forget that “the universal idea of nature as the sum total of sense objects gives us no basis whatever [for assuming] that things of nature serve one another as means to purposes” (CJ §61 [360]). The idea of purpose is a necessary condition of explanation, but only if we treat the idea “problematically”, that is, only if we bear in mind that our investigations into nature are to proceed “by analogy with the causality in terms of purposes” (CJ §61 [360]). When Kant writes, then, that we do not actually “explain” nature by means of a causality of purposes, his point is that we do not actually explain nature if we forget that purposes are nowhere to be discovered in nature. The idea of purpose has no ontological import because it is an idea that reflective judgment applies to “itself ”, not to nature (CJ Intro. V [185]). 113  Kant’s “Idea for a Universal History from a Cosmopolitan Point of View” (8:17). Hegel uses “Erzählung”, too, at PH 64/83. 114  See notes 110 and 112 above.

84  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit (EL §§195A, 194A2). He praises Kant for ‘resuscitating’ the Aristotelean reliance on final causes (EL §204). In his Science of Logic, he even refers to teleological explanation as the ‘truth’ of mechanism.115 I suggested earlier, however, that Hegel does not endorse Kant’s alternative to mechanism. He has doubts about Kant’s use of the idea of purpose, or more precisely, about the status Kant assigns the idea. We will return to Hegel’s criticisms in section 3.3 of this chapter, but by way of preparation it will be useful to recall the interpretive puzzle we set out to solve in this section. Our task has been to explain the second respect in which Hegel considers world history to be necessary. We discovered that he intends his thesis that history is necessary, in this second respect, as a rejection of the Epicurean view that all that happens is attributable to chance (PH 15/24; see also 13/22). We reviewed evidence indicating that Hegel’s charge is neither that Epicurus assumed that everything that happens is uncaused, nor that patterns or regularities cannot be discovered in nature. Instead, the message Hegel intends to convey is that Epicurus failed to acknowledge a necessary condition of his discovery of those patterns. Epicurus failed in this respect, because he regarded nature as governed by nothing other than, as Hegel says, “external contingencies [äußerliche Zufälligkeiten]”. In effect, Epicurus’ mistake was to treat nature as a blind mech­an­ ism (PH 59/77). In considering all relations among existing things as “contingent connections [zufällige Verbindungen]”, Epicurus reserved no place for purposes in his system (LHP II 291f./VGP II 313). Hegel’s criticism of Epicurus thus gives us grounds for concluding that one reason for his insistence upon discovering necessity in nature and in world history was his unwillingness to follow Epicurus in endorsing a purely mechanical mode of explanation.116

3.2.3  The Philosophy of History Requires its Investigations to be “Scientific [Wissenschaftlich]” Hegel asserts that his philosophy of history is genuinely “scientific” and as such deserves a place in his Encyclopaedia of Philosophical Sciences.117 His philosophy of history is scientific, he claims, because it can be established with “necessity”.118 But 115 “Die Zweckbeziehung hat sich als die Wahrheit des Mechanismus erwiesen” (SL II 735/WL II 437f.). 116  For further discussion of Hegel’s critique of mechanism, see James Kreines, “Hegel’s Critique of Pure Mechanism and the Philosophical Appeal of the Logic Project”, European Journal of Philosophy 12:1 (2004): 38–74, and Nathan Ross, On Mechanism in Hegel’s Social and Political Philosophy (New York/London: Routledge, 2008). More recently, Karen Ng considers the influence on Hegel of Kant’s critique of mechanism in, Hegel’s Concept of Life, especially Chapter 2, section 4. 117  Hegel refers to his philosophy of history as a “science” at PH 19/30. World history, moreover, has a place in his Encyclopaedia of Philosophical Sciences. It appears in the “Objective Spirit” section of Part 3 of the Encyclopaedia: Philosophy of Spirit. 118  “World history is progress in the consciousness of freedom—­a progress that we must come to know in its necessity” (PH 22/32).

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  85 what conditions have to be satisfied, according to Hegel, if a mode of inquiry is to be established with necessity? We just saw that purely mechanical explanation is deficient, in his estimation, and needs to be complemented with a causality of purposes. Hegel claims in addition, however, that only sciences, strictly speaking, can be established with necessity; investigations that are merely “positive” cannot. The typical encyclopedia does not qualify as a science because it is “thoroughly positive [durch und durch positiven]” (EL §16). Obviously, we need to explain the basis for Hegel’s distinction between genuinely scientific and merely positive forms of inquiry. This is no simple task, but we can make a start by ruling out a few possible interpretations of his meaning. In so doing, we can clarify his assertion that only a genuine science can be established with necessity.119 One reading we should resist supposes that by “positive” modes of investigation, Hegel means to designate investigations that are essentially empirical in that they that appeal to experience for their principal source of evidence. Hegel indeed frequently characterizes positive inquiries as empirical.120 His reasons for this are difficult to determine, however, because he also tells us that positive approaches come in various kinds, depending at least partially on the source of their evidence. Hegel notes in one passage that positive approaches may for instance rely on “rationalizations [Räsonnement], partly feeling, belief, the authority of others, in general the authority of inner or outer intuition” (EL §16). Even the “rational theology of the old metaphysics”, he states, suffers from positivity (EL §36). We should likewise resist the proposal that Hegel labels “positive” simply those modes of inquiry he judges to be insufficiently self-­critical. It is true that he has little patience with philosophers who fail to call their own “steadfast presuppositions [festen Voraussetzungen]” into question (EL Preface 6/17). He attacks those who rely on “a network of presuppositions, assurances, rationalizations [ein Gewebe von Vorraussetzungen, Versicherungen und Räsonnements]”, without taking the trouble to demonstrate the “necessity” of their claims (EL §10).121 But when Hegel charges a purported science with positivity, he in addition has in mind its lack of systematicity. Whether an inquiry derives its principles empirically or rationally, it is positive if it fails to order its parts in the right kind of way, that is, if it connects its parts merely “externally [äußerlich]” (EL §16). An inquiry cannot be properly scientific, according to Hegel, if it lacks systematic unity. A  truly “scientific [wissenschaftlich]” encyclopedia is not a mere aggregate of parts; it unifies its diverse content by means of a “system”. An inquiry needs to be

119  See Michael Petry’s discussion of different kinds of “arbitrary” encyclopedias in his Introduction to Hegel’s Philosophy of Nature (London: Allen and Unwin, 1970), 11ff. 120  The “ordinary [gewöhnlichen]” encyclopedia is not strictly speaking a science because it collects together individual sciences in a merely “contingent and empirical manner [zufälliger—­und empirischerweise]” (EL §16). 121  For a further expression of this complaint, see e.g. the section of the Science of Logic, “With What Must the Science Begin?”.

86  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit systematic if it is to establish the necessary interconnection of its parts. As he says, “philosophizing without a system cannot be anything scientific” (EL §14).122 Of course, this insistence upon systematicity only raises further questions. What, exactly, does Hegel judge to be the right way to achieve systematic unity? How does a mode of inquiry achieve systematicity and thus a proper grounding, in his estimation, such that it truly qualifies as a science and can justifiably claim to connect its parts with necessity? From our discussion of the second sense in which Hegel considers his world history to be necessary, we know that he judges a mode of inquiry to be systematic only if it is an organized or purposively arranged whole. Its parts must be connected to each other as well as to the whole not just randomly or by chance, but by means of a concept, namely that of purpose. But does this imply that, on Hegel’s account, any concept of purpose will do? That is, does he hold that any as if purposively arranged whole is well grounded and therefore a genuine science? To ask this question in a different way, does he hold that an inquiry qualifies as genuinely scientific merely if it rests on the insight that teleology is the ‘truth’ of mechanism? Is “positive”, for Hegel, just another word for “mechanical”? The answer to these questions is surely “no”. As we will see in a moment, Hegel in fact condemns some teleologically ordered wholes on account of their positivity. He does not argue, then, that if we connect parts of an investigation by means of an organizing principle, our investigation thereby escapes positivity. Hegel ­discovers positivity in some organized wholes; he does so when he is convinced that their unifying principle is inadequate in some way. A clear example of an organizing principle Hegel judges to be inadequate is that of chronology. He tells us that investigations that arrange their data merely chronologically obviously qualify as positive. A history of the idea of right is positive, for instance, if it provides nothing more than a temporally ordered record of actual decisions about what is right. Treatments of this kind—­whether of right or any other subject matter—­may offer us much that is informative and “meritorious”, but any approach that adopts chronology as its main ordering principle is not truly philosophical or scientific.123 122  To defend any “content [Inhalt]” is to defend it as a “moment of the whole [Moment des Ganzen]”. Without such a grounding, the content is “subjective” and “contingent [zufällig]”; it is merely an “ungrounded presupposition or subjective certainty” (EL §14). Kant conveys a similar message when he tells us that the idea of nature as a purposively connected whole is what gives the form of the whole its “necessity” (CJ §64 [370]). Systematic unity, he writes in the first Critique, “is that which first makes ordinary cognition into science” (A 832/B 860). 123  Preface to PR 13A/16Af.; see also PR §3. Hegel is equally critical of a purely chronological approach to nature. If all we do is record that this happening followed another, then we are engaged in what is merely chronological history, he says, which “ignores the necessity of the process” (EN §339A; see also EN §249). Commenting on geological discoveries, Hegel remarks that while these discoveries are evidence that the “earth has had a history”, this “fact” regarding the “temporal succession” of the stratifications of the earth’s surface “does not explain anything”. “One can have interesting thoughts about the long intervals between such revolutions, about the profounder revolutions caused by

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  87 Chronology is not the only ordering principle Hegel judges to be defective, but his remarks on its defectiveness give us clues to his standard for measuring the adequacy of ordering principles. As we just saw, a positive or “purely historical” approach to right tracks the development of actual systems of right from the past to the present. Crucially, however, such an approach lacks resources for determining whether that development counts as an instance of progress. Positive approaches to right (or to any other subject matter) set out to accurately describe what is and has been. They have nothing to contribute, however, to the question whether what is or was conforms to what ought to be. Because positive approaches lack the means for treating these normative questions, they cannot be genuinely scientific; they cannot in Hegel’s judgment establish the necessity of any actual norm or institution. A genuinely philosophical or scientific approach gives us a great deal more than a mere record of what has been regarded as right; it concerns itself, in addition, with the question whether treatments of right can be grounded or justified (PR §3).124 What we can conclude so far is that we do not necessarily escape the Hegelian charge of positivity by connecting parts of an investigation by means of an organizing principle. We must, in addition, concern ourselves with the justifiability or normative status of our organizing principle. As it turns out, however, not even satisfying this latter condition allows us to avoid positivity entirely. We need to have at our disposal, in addition, the right justificatory standard. It is not enough that we seek to ground or justify our investigations; we avoid positivity only if our investigations in fact rest on solid ground. If we for instance set out to justify a story about the progress of human freedom or Spirit but enlist a normatively defective principle for judging that progress, our developmental story will still suffer from positivity, according to Hegel. Back in Chapter  2, we saw that Hegel criticizes “pragmatic” history for precisely this reason. Pragmatic history organizes its facts by means of an overarching principle, but Hegel insists that its principle is defective. The pragmatic historian defends the thesis that there has been progress in human history; unfortunately, however, she draws her evidence from the “accidental idiosyncrasies” of heroes and their “presumed petty aims, inclinations and passions”. The pragmatic historian overlooks the “substantial character of world-­historical individuals” (EG §377A). Pragmatic history is in this respect inferior to “specialized” reflective alterations of the earth’s axis, and also those caused by the sea. They are, however, hypotheses in the historical field, and this point of view of a mere succession of time has no philosophical significance whatever” (EN §339A). I have benefitted from Kolb’s discussion of this passage in “Darwin Rocks Hegel”, 5. 124  In the Preface to his Philosophy of Right, Hegel goes to great lengths to distinguish his aims and methods in that work from that of the positivist. He takes up this issue again in his Introduction, where he tells us that he is not interested in determining whether his science agrees with “prevailing ideas”, for this would never establish their necessity (§2A). See his criticism of positive approaches to right also in EL §16.

88  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit history which sets out to reveal the “inner guiding soul [innere leitende Seele]” rather than the mere “outer thread” of events and actions (PH 10/19).125 Hegel acknowledges that the story of the purpose and progress of human history can be told in “a variety of ways” (PH 47/63); he does not, however, hold that all interpretations are of equal merit. A central assumption of his “scientific” philosophy of history, after all, is that the course of human affairs must be more than the story of the struggle of the “passions and subjective interests” of individuals (PH 38/52). Ultimately, human history is not about human happiness at all—­it is not even about “universal [allgemeine]” human happiness (PH 47/63).126 Hegel argues that there is only one proper way to interpret the progressive course of human history. The “process of development in the realm of Spirit”, he writes, “is the fulfillment of an aim that has a specific content [bestimmten Inhalte]” (PH 59/76). That “specific content” or “guiding principle”, he goes on to tell us, is a specific idea of human freedom. World history is “the consciousness of freedom, and the determinations of that consciousness in freedom’s development” (PH 68/88).127 Although Hegel recognizes, then, that we can understand the idea of purpose in different ways, he also clearly holds that we give ourselves a suitable standard for measuring the progress of human history only if our idea of purpose is of the right kind.128 Positivity, on his account, may thus infect even those investigations that appear robustly philosophical, investigations that both rely on the idea of purpose and self-­consciously set out to ground their claims. If such investigations lack the proper tools—­ in particular, if they employ a defective normative standard—­they qualify as positive. Hegel repeatedly asserts that it is crucial that we not rely on what he calls “external” purposes. External purposes, as he understands them, do not get at the heart of the matter; they fail to reveal the true nature of things. 125  In his Philosophy of Right, Hegel directs similar objections at the “Sophist’s” approach to the history of right. The principles of the Sophist “identify what is right with subjective ends and opinions, with subjective feeling and particular conviction, and they lead to the destruction of inner ethics and the upright conscience, of love and right among private persons, as well as the destruction of public order and the laws of the state” (PR Preface 18/21f.). 126  Hegel’s philosophy of history foregrounds the activities of the ‘great men’ of history, and such individuals are by no means the happiest (PH 33/46f.). World history, in his words, is “not the place for happiness” (PH 29/42). According to Chistoph Halbig, Hegel means by happiness [Glückseligkeit] something far more subjective and individualistic than, for example, Aristotelian Eudaimonia. See his paper, “‘Das Recht [. . .], sich befriedigt zu finden’ (RPh §124). Überlegungen zur Bedeutung der affektiven und konativen Dimension des Menschen für Hegels Normativitätstheorie und Ethik”, Internationales Jahrbuch des deutschen Idealismus/International Yearbook of German Idealism 13, eds Dina Emundts and Sally Sedgwick (Berlin/Boston: Walter de Gruyter Verlag, 2018), 97–125. 127  Or, on Pinkard’s reformulation, world history is for Hegel unified by the idea of an “infinite end”, more precisely, the idea of “subjectivity as Geist coming to an adequate self-­consciousness” (Does History Make Sense?, 101). 128  For a further passage in which Hegel explicitly makes this point, see PH 59/77 where he criticizes “formalistic” approaches which lack the means for defending one kind of development over another. At most, these approaches use what he says are “indefinite” or “relative” criteria for measuring progress.

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  89 In section  3.3, I explore Hegel’s contrast between internal and external ­ urposes, but I first want to briefly take stock of the main points of our present p discussion. We have been considering the thesis that the third kind of necessity Hegel attributes to his philosophy of history reflects what he takes to be its “scientific” character. Hegel insists that his philosophic approach to history is scientific and as such not positive. The explanations of a truly scientific investigation are teleological rather than purely mechanical; they bring the idea of purpose to their subject matter. Hegel characterizes his philosophy of history as a pur­pos­ ively arranged whole rather than a mere aggregate of contingently connected parts. His system is scientific because it satisfies two further conditions as well. First, the parts of his system are unified with an eye to determining whether the development of human affairs over time gives us evidence of progress. Hegel’s aim is not just to offer a chronological record of historical change; he is interested to determine whether the change reflects transitions from worse to better. Second, his philosophy of history enlists the right standard for measuring progress. There has been progress in history, he believes, because there have been advances in the development and actualization of human freedom. In chapters to come we will have more to say about Hegel’s unique conception of human freedom. For our purposes in the present chapter, however, the point that most deserves emphasis is that his insistence upon the necessity of world history is tied to substantial methodological commitments about the nature of genuinely “scientific” or “philosophical” inquiry. These methodological commitments in turn rest on specific ontological commitments. As I have suggested, they presuppose a particular account of the nature of our freedom. Hegel holds that the progress of history, and the necessary connections that can be demonstrated to obtain between its various stages, are to be measured against that idea of freedom, an idea he believes is actual in his own time. The idea that serves as Hegel’s standard of progress is of a freedom that has emerged out of a historical process. Moreover, and as we saw in Chapter 2, he is convinced that we can look to history itself for justification of this idea. The idea is more, Hegel claims, than an “a priori fabrication”.

3.3  External versus Internal Purposes From our discussion in the previous section, we can conclude that when Hegel asserts that his philosophy of world history reveals the “necessary course of World Spirit” (PH 13/22), he means to assign his world history at least the following three features: First, his philosophy of history ignores “empirical particularities” and confines its attention to actions and circumstances that substantially contribute to the subject matter of world history, namely to the development and actualization of Spirit’s idea of freedom. Second, his philosophy of history searches for

90  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit special kinds of connections in human affairs. It is not interested to describe the “blind” connections revealed by a purely mechanical approach, because it treats history as something other than an accidental collection of events. Hegel’s philosophy of history concerns itself with events that are necessary insofar as they are connected as parts of a systematic unity or purposively arranged whole. Third, his philosophy of history is scientific rather than positive. It is governed by a principle that is rationally justified and that therefore adequately unifies its diverse content. Especially the second and third interpretative proposals require further clarification. According to the third, Hegel’s philosophy of history has the status of necessity because it can be demonstrated to be scientific. As I suggested in my conclusion to section  3.2, an inquiry can be demonstrated to be scientific, for Hegel, only if it meets certain substantive methodological and ontological conditions. Minimally, and as implied by the second interpretative proposal, it must grant a role for the idea of purpose in inquiry. If our object of inquiry is human history in particular, we must bring to our investigations the specific idea that events of history are purposively connected as moments in the realization of human freedom. Crucially, however, not any idea of freedom with do. A truly “philosophic” or “scientific” philosophy of history unifies its content by means of the precise idea of freedom that Hegel believes has been demonstrated to qualify as the right standard for measuring moral progress. The point especially worth underscoring is that Hegel’s claim that there is necessity in the course of world history needs to be understood as reflecting these methodological and ontological commitments. This point deserves emphasis for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it reveals the inadequacy of the three interpretations of necessity we reviewed back in section 3.1. Even if part of what Hegel means by the necessity of world history is the unremarkable assumption that there are sufficient conditions governing historical events, and even if he in addition endorses the more extreme view that history is necessary because its determining conditions are not just sufficient but also necessary, these interpretative proposals tell us nothing about the nature of the conditions he has in mind. They give us no indication, in particular, that he intends the necessity of world history to refer to the purposive connection of its parts, a connection made possible by a certain idea of human freedom. And even if Hegel asserts that the development of world history is in some sense logically necessary, nothing in the material we have reviewed so far implies that he thereby commits himself to a thesis about the unintelligibility or incoherence of the possibility of alternative developmental paths. Hegel describes the course of world history as unfolding with “conceptual necessity [Begriffsnotwendigkeit]” (PH 81/104); but rather than express a commitment to logical necessity in this narrow sense, the thesis he arguably wants to defend is that world history is a narrative and purposive unity, a unity made possible by a certain concept (namely, the concept of human freedom). In referring to the course of world history as conceptually necessary, Hegel

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  91 in other words reveals that his account of history’s necessity is thick rather than thin. The course of history is conceptually necessary because it conforms to a specific idea of freedom. At this point, it is natural to wonder how Hegel could seriously defend the paradoxical-­sounding thesis that the necessity of history is made possible by an idea of freedom. Minimally, we need to know more about the precise idea of freedom Hegel has in mind. We can take a first step, in the remaining paragraphs of this chapter, by returning to the point that his idea of freedom furnishes the purpose that unifies his world historical narrative. The necessary connection Hegel discovers among historical events refers to their purposive connection, their connection through the idea of purpose. As we saw in section  3.2, his reason for rejecting the Epicurean approach is precisely that it awards no role, in explanation, to the idea of purposive connection. It is Epicurus’ naïve faith in the resources of pure mechanism that underlies his commitment to the assumption that all that happens is a matter of chance (PH 59/77). We also know from our earlier discussion that not any idea of purpose will do, according to Hegel. If our world history is to be genuinely scientific, we must have at our disposal the right idea of purposive connection, an idea we can rationally demonstrate or justify. In the final paragraphs of section  3.2, I mentioned that Hegel’s insistence that the kind of purpose that unifies world history cannot be “external”; it must instead be “internal” and, as such, capable of getting at the heart of the matter. As I suggested, it is the idea of freedom, for Hegel, that fits this bill. More precisely, what qualifies as the internal purpose capable of adequately unifying world history is the unique idea of freedom that is firmly anchored in his own philosophical system. But how does a purpose qualify as internal, and how do internal purposes differ from their external counterparts? When Hegel asserts that only certain kinds of purposes are capable of insuring that our investigations deserve to be labelled “scientific”, the message he intends to convey is that reliance on external rather than internal purposes is somehow inadequate. In a passage in which he comments on the proper way to carry out a philosophical consideration of world history, he explicitly warns us against resting our reflections on an appeal to external purposes: What counts is whether the connection of the whole has been demonstrated [aufgezeigt] or is sought merely in external relationships [äußerlichen Verhältnissen]. In the latter case, the relationships among peoples appear as entirely contingent particularities [zufällige Einzelheiten]. When reflective history comes to pursue universal viewpoints, we should notice that such viewpoints are of a truer nature if they capture the inner guiding soul of events and actions rather than the external thread or an external order [der äußere Faden, eine äußere Ordnung].  (PH 9f./19)

92  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit If the organizing principle we bring to our philosophy of history is merely “external” (or as Hegel sometimes also says, “formal” (PH 59/77)), it will fail to reveal “universal viewpoints” or the “inner guiding soul of events and actions”. An external or formal approach, he later remarks, assesses advances and declines in history only by way of “ends that are relative, and not absolute” (PH 60/77).129 Hegel conveys this message in various contexts. If we take a merely “external” approach to the history of philosophy, for example, we generate nothing more than a “contingent succession and mere multiplicity of principles and their expression in various philosophies” (EL §13). An “external” history of philosophy that for instance connects historical moments simply chronologically, fails to connect its various parts with necessity; it fails to get at the genuine unity of the whole. The same is true, Hegel suggests, if our subject matter is nature. If we sort species by appealing to “external accident . . . not . . . reason”, we essentially divide our “idea of nature” into “contingencies” (EL §16).130 In each of these discussions, Hegel’s central message is that if we appeal solely to external purposes in the service of unifying or systematizing the objects of our inquiry, our investigation will be infected with positivity and we will be in no position to establish a genuine science. External purposes are organizing principles and as such means of arranging our data into what might appear to be a systematic unity. When we rely on an appeal to external purposes, we therefore at least seem to give ourselves a real alternative to a purely mechanical mode of description. Crucially, however, Hegel argues that if our organizing principles are merely external, our approach is in a certain respect no improvement over blind mechanism. Although we part ways with mechanism in introducing purposes or final causes into our explanatory toolbox, we share with mechanism the implication that the connections we establish are merely accidental or contingent. A reliance solely on external purposes cannot for Hegel result in a truly scientific inquiry because the connections it establishes lack necessity. As he puts it in the passage we considered a moment ago, external connections provide no insight into the “inner guiding soul” of things (PH 9f./19). It is worth pointing out that Hegel uses the terms “contingency” and “externality” to describe a wide range of cases whose common features are not easy to discern. An external purpose is most obviously contingent, he suggests in one discussion, if it satisfies a relatively trivial human need. Cork is a useful substance for stopping bottles; nevertheless, reference to that specific purpose affords us no genuine 129  This is why, already in his early Jena writings, Hegel portrays David Hume’s historical writings as mechanistic. The story Hume tells is in Hegel’s view one in which human actors are moved about merely by external forces. Absent from this approach is any attention to the internally motivated and goal-­driven actions of agents who contribute to the production and ordering of the social whole. See Nathan Ross’s discussion of Hegel’s critique of Hume in On Mechanism in Hegel’s Social and Political Philosophy, 39ff. 130  A further example: If theology is just an “external enumeration and compilation of religious teachings”, it is not a science (EL §36A).

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  93 insight into the nature of cork (EL §205A). To cite a less obvious example: human activity is to a significant extent driven by the desire to achieve happiness. We nonetheless learn nothing essential about human nature, Hegel asserts, if we confine our attention to the fleeting and context-­dependent passions and interests that propel us to act. If we try to unify our science of human nature by appealing to the various ways in which human agents strive to achieve happiness, our inquiry will count as “positive”. Our inquiry will be “positive” not because humans do not desire happiness; rather, and as we saw earlier, its positivity will derive from the misguided assumption that the desire for happiness is what captures our essence and significantly distinguishes us from other animals. In the above examples, a purpose is “external” and as such “contingent” insofar as it identifies a feature of an object that, at least in Hegel’s estimation, cannot be said to capture the essence of that object. A feature is inessential if it can be abstracted away without compromising the object’s true nature. But as I mentioned a moment ago, a wide range of purposes can count as “external”, for Hegel. Sometimes he even charges “externality” when he judges that a particular perspective on or treatment of objects suffers from excessive subjectivity. An idea or principle is “external”, in this respect, if it tells us more about the thinking or knowing subject than about that subject’s object. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Hegel includes Kant among those he considers to be guilty of this latter kind of externality. His charge against Kant is important for us to consider, because it allows us to complete a story we began in section  3.2. There, we made the case that, as far as the critique of mechanism is concerned, Kant and Hegel are in significant agreement. Both argue that mechanism cannot perform its explanatory task (in either natural scientific or historical explanation) without relying on the idea of the purposive connection of things. I also suggested, however, that although Hegel shared Kant’s assessment of the limits of mechanism, he did not endorse Kant’s proposal for overcoming those limits. For Hegel, Kant’s idea of purpose suffers from externality and therefore also contingency. As we will see, he charges that the Kantian idea suffers from a special kind of externality, an externality tied to the idea’s subjectivity.

3.4  On the Subjectivity and Resulting Externality of Kantian Purposes In what respect is Kant’s treatment of the idea of purpose objectionably subjective and therefore external, on Hegel’s description? A fundamental Kantian commitment, as we know, is that the idea of purpose is an indispensable condition of our investigations into both nature and world history. Without the idea that nature is as if purposively connected or designed, we lack any means of finding the patterns or regularities that are necessary for “empirical cognition”, as Kant says

94  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit (CJ §67 [370]). Likewise, without the idea that human affairs are as if purposively connected, world history has to be for us no more than a “planless aggregate” (8:29). Without the idea of purpose, we have no reason to hope that history can give us evidence of gradual progress; we deprive ourselves, then, of a “consoling perspective on the future [tröstende Aussicht in die Zukunft]” (8:30). But although the idea of purpose is necessary for our natural scientific and historical inquires, it is an idea of reason and as such, it cannot refer to a proper object of theoretical knowledge. Purposes, very simply, are not discoverable in experience. Hegel endorses Kant’s argument for the necessity of the idea of purpose for scientific as well as historical inquiry, but he is unpersuaded by Kant’s additional assumption that purpose is nowhere to be discovered in nature and history, and that it is for that reason unknowable by us. For Hegel, purposes can be objective—­ they can be discovered in world history and in nature. They can be discovered, for example, wherever there is evidence of self-­motion. Purpose is most obviously discoverable in self-­conscious natures, beings capable of the highest level of self-­ motion and its implied freedom. But Hegel argues that purpose is present even in the lowest levels of organic nature. Even in the most primitive forms of life, forms lacking not just self-­consciousness but even consciousness, there is purpose in that there is the “drive [Trieb]” to develop. Even the simplest organisms have some power of self-­motion or self-­development. In a plant, for example, there is a “self-­development from within outwards, a unity which differentiates itself and from its differentiation produces itself with the bud, something, therefore, to which we attribute a drive [Trieb]” (EG §381A; see also PH 58/75f.).131 In Chapter  5, I will have more to say about Hegel’s account of the different kinds of self-­motion (and hence of purpose) that he discovers in living nature. My present task has simply been to identify his reasons for characterizing Kant’s idea of purpose as “subjective”. As we have seen, Kant’s idea of purpose is an a priori concept that thinking subjects bring to scientific and historical inquiry. The idea is necessary for our investigations and experience of objects of nature and history, but purposes can never themselves be discovered in nature or history. The idea of purpose lacks objectivity, according to Kant, in precisely this respect.132 From 131  Purposes are not to be discovered in inorganic nature, because inorganic nature lacks the power of self-­motion. It is the essence of matter, Hegel writes, to be wholly determined by external forces (PH 20/30). Hegel discovers purpose in plants as well as non-­human animals, however, in so far as all of these organisms possess internal powers of motion (EG §381A). This may be a good place to recall a point I stressed back in section 3.2 when considering Hegel’s critique of mechanical explanation. With Kant, Hegel holds that all explanation requires the idea of purpose. Even though Hegel denies inorganic matter the power of self-­motion and therefore purpose, he is committed to the view that our explanations (as well as experience) of matter require the idea of purpose. 132  When Hegel writes in EL that the idea of purpose “at first” “merely stands opposed to objectivity” or at first is “determined as subjective”, he is thinking of those such as Kant for whom purpose is an  idea we knowers bring to inquiry, but not an idea we can know to reflect the nature of things (EL §204).

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  95 Hegel’s point of view, however, if we lack reason to assume that the patterns we discover are actually grounded in the nature of things, we effectively imply with Epicurus that the patterns we discover are no better than contingencies or accidents. The patterns are effectively “external” since they cannot give us insight into the essences of things. Clearly, Hegel aims to avoid this kind of externality. We will see in chapters to come how he argues for the objectivity of his idea of purpose.133

3.5  Conclusion: The Idea of Freedom Gives History Its Necessity In section 3.4, we added a further item to our list of the various respects in which Hegel takes the idea of purpose to suffer from externality. In his view, the only suitably internal idea of purpose is one that is objective rather than subjective; it is an idea unencumbered by Kantian epistemological assumptions about the limits of our knowledge. In addition, it is an idea that rests on a rejection of the Kantian account of the nature of our cognitive faculties. The Hegelian idea of the internal purpose that governs world history is therefore based, among other things, on a rejection of fundamental assumptions of Kant’s idealism. This result further fills out our account of what Hegel means to imply by the “necessity” of history. In doing so, it reinforces our central interpretative thesis, which is that Hegel’s insistence upon history’s necessity has to be understood through (at least) the following substantial epistemological and ontological commitments: History is a story of purposive rather than merely mechanical connection. Moreover, the purpose responsible for the necessity of world history is internal rather than external; it gets at the heart of the matter and is objectively discoverable and knowable by us. In addition, I have proposed that the idea of purposive connection that is suitably internal and also objective, according to Hegel, is a particular idea of freedom. This proposal should not surprise us, since Hegel after all describes world history as the “actualization [Verwirklichung]” of the “necessary development [notwendige Entwicklung] of the moments [Momente] of reason out of the concept of Spirit’s freedom” (PR §342).134 As he says, the “actualization” in the form of laws and institutions ‘develops’ “out of the concept of freedom [aus dem Begriffe. . . seine Freiheit]”. The idea of purposive connection that is suitably internal, then, is a specific idea of freedom. This is why we can attribute to Hegel the 133  See especially section 3 of Chapter 6. 134  Hegel describes world history as the necessary (or “immanent”) development at PH 58/75 as well: “The principle of development [in world history] . . . implies that there is an inner determination [innere Bestimmung], an implicitly presupposed ground that is to bring itself into existence.In its essence, this formal determination is Spirit, which uses world history as its theater, its property, and the field of its actualization”.

96  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit paradoxical-­sounding conclusion that it is a specific idea of freedom that gives world history its necessity.135 As a philosopher deeply interested in the history of his subject, Hegel is sensitive to the fact that philosophers since the ancients have defended a host of different conceptions of freedom. But the idea that successfully gives world history its necessity, in his judgment, must satisfy certain conditions. For one thing, it must be objective rather than subjective; it must be a possible object of our knowledge. In addition, it must be more than an “a priori fabrication [apriorische Erdichtung]”. In what follows, we will need to provide a fuller account of the uniquely Hegelian idea of freedom and of how that idea enjoys objectivity (of a certain kind) and is capable of giving world history its necessity. Part of our task will involve explaining troublesome passages that seem to commit Hegel to the assumption that there is very little or no room for freedom in history at all, passages in which he asserts that history is necessary in that it is governed by “divine Providence [Vorsehung]” (PH 15/25) or “fate [Schicksal]” (PH 24/35). Such passages appear to imply not that freedom gives history its necessity but rather the reverse, that necessity gives history its freedom in the following respect: any freedom we attribute to ourselves is necessary in the sense of preprogrammed, and as such, not a genuine form of freedom at all. In addition, we will need to explore in greater depth the role Hegel awards contingency in his philosophy of history. It should be clear from our foregoing discussion that he is committed to the assumption that certain contingencies deserve no mention in world history. Properly understood, world history concerns itself only with what is of world-­historical significance; world history is not in the business of recording what is contingent in the sense of trivial or inessential. This does not imply, of course, that Hegel must be interpreted as arguing in favor of eliminating all forms of contingency from his world historical narrative. He may appear to have this aim—­for example, when he criticizes the Epicurean view that all that happens may be attributed to “chance [Zufall]” (PH 15/24; see also 13/22). But when we examined this criticism more closely, we discovered that Hegel is not out to deny or ignore contingency altogether; instead, he means to call into question the Epicurean assumption that we can explain everything that happens in nature and in history with reference to mechanical causes. We will begin our next chapter by taking a closer look at passages that suggest that Hegel is committed to a fatalistic view of the unfolding of world history. It 135  This is one respect, then, in which Hegel considers freedom and necessity to be compatible. Like Kant, he sets out to provide his own solution to the apparent “antinomy” between freedom and necessity. See, for example, his remarks in EL §48A. I consider in detail how Hegel’s solution differs from Kant’s in the final chapter of Hegel’s Critique of Kant. See also Ng’s impressive discussion of these matters in Chapter 2 of Hegel’s Concept of Life.

Necessity in Hegel ’ s Philosophy of History  97 will turn out that although he rejects some forms of fatalism, he indeed associates his philosophic world history with fatalism of a certain kind. He also makes the intriguing suggestion, however, that his version of fatalism is compatible with an idea of freedom—­an idea that implies that human nature has a significant role to play in shaping its destiny.

4

Hegel’s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom In Chapter3, I argued that Hegel considers the course of world history to be necessary in at least the following respects: Events of world history are connected not accidentally or contingently but rather purposively, or more precisely, through the idea of purpose. Moreover, the purpose connecting world historical events is “internal” rather than “external”. Minimally, this implies that the philosophy of history does not for Hegel record what is trivial in human affairs; it aims instead to establish a “science” of world history. Hegel’s science concerns only those purposes that are of world historical significance. A purpose or aim has world historical significance, on his account, only if it contributes in an essential way to the goal of world history which consists in the realization of human freedom. As I suggested in my concluding paragraphs of Chapter 3, Hegel argues that it is ultimately freedom that gives human history its internal purpose and therefore its necessity. Moreover, only a particular idea of freedom adequately performs this role. Although we know very little about that idea at this point, Hegel clearly demands that it be more than merely subjective; it must be more, even, than a necessary subjective idea or concept. Somehow, the Hegelian idea of human freedom is objective, and as such, discoverable and knowable by us. In this chapter, we begin the process of adding specificity to Hegel’s idea of freedom, the idea that in his view performs the paradoxical-­seeming role of giving world history its necessity. I noted in the first pages of this work that it sometimes appears as though Hegel is committed to the thesis not that freedom gives history its necessity but rather the other way around. That is, he sometimes appears to suggest that any freedom we attribute to ourselves is nothing more than a product of predetermined forces, forces over which we have no control. Hegel appears to endorse such a thesis, for instance, when he writes that the plan of world history as well as the fulfillment of that plan are in the hands of “divine Providence [Vorsehung]” (PH 15/25), and when he characterizes human history as the “march of God in the world” (PR §258A; PH 16/26, 23/33, 39/53). His remark that the “first traces of spirit virtually contain all history” seems to imply as well that he is committed to this kind of fatalism (PH 21/31).136

136  For a further passage, see his Encyclopaedia in which he tells us that all that happens “corresponds” to what “was previously known and willed [was vorher gewußt und gewollt wurde]” (EL §147A).

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0005

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  99 Remarks such as these cannot be ignored, and it is by no means obvious how they can be squared with the proposal that the freedom Hegel discovers in history is a freedom worthy of the name. He undeniably considers world history to be fated in some sense, but just as the history of philosophy presents us with different conceptions of freedom, it likewise presents us with different conceptions of fate. In this chapter, I suggest that Hegel’s unique version of fatalism is compatible with his commitment to a robust freedom thesis. His comment that the “first traces of Spirit virtually contain all history” can in other words be harmonized with the assumption that we humans possess powers that are genuinely trans­ form­a­tive, powers that cannot be identified with the mere submission to forces over which we have no control. The following remark from the Encyclopaedia Logic lends initial plausibility to my suggestion that Hegel is a not fatalist in any straightforward sense, and that there are forms of fatalism he unambiguously rejects: In light of the fact that the philosophy of history considers its task to be the knowledge of necessity [die Erkenntnis der Notwendigkeit], nothing is more wrong-­headed [Verkehrtes] than the charge that the philosophy of history is committed to a blind fatalism [blinden Fatalismus].  (EL §247A)137

As this passage reveals, if Hegel is a fatalist at all, his fatalism cannot be blind. In the remaining paragraphs of this section, I offer preliminary support for a specific interpretation of his rejection of a blind fate. I strengthen my case for that interpretation in subsequent sections. As I hope to show, there is significant textual evidence in favor of the thesis that, in objecting to a fate that is blind, Hegel means at least the following: he means to call into question the assumption that we cannot know our fate. In his Philosophy of Right, for example, he explicitly criticizes those who, on the one hand, “profess their faith in a higher power by references to Providence and a providential plan”, but then go on to declare, on the other, that the plan of Providence is “beyond their cognition and comprehension” (PR §343). Hegel implies here that fate is objectionably “blind” if it is taken to be unknowable. This is just a single remark, but it conveys a motif we frequently encounter in Hegel’s works. We considered it back in Chapter 1 when we compared features of his and Kant’s philosophies of history. We saw there that Hegel has little patience with the Kantian thesis that although the idea of historical progress is practically necessary in providing a “consoling perspective on the future [tröstende Aussicht

137  We find a similar remark in PR §342, where Hegel contrasts world history as the “necessary development . . . of the moments of reason and hence of Spirit’s self-­consciousness and freedom” with world history as developing according to the “abstract and irrational necessity of a blind fate [blinden Schicksals]”.

100  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit in die Zukunft]” [8:30], the idea refers to an object that is beyond the reach of our knowledge. Hegel rejects a fate that is blind not just in the sense of unknowable, however, but also in the sense of “external”. As we will see, he sometimes characterizes as “external” a fate that conflicts with our freedom (that conflicts, more precisely, with the particular conception of freedom he endorses). He calls attention to the opposition between freedom and an external fate in a passage, again from the Philosophy of Right, in which he defends the right of members of civil society to serve on a jury. Even if members of civil society “have the right to be physically present in court”, he writes, “this counts for little if they are not to be present in spirit and with their own knowledge”. Hegel points out that members of civil society will “remain alienated [fremd gehalten]” from right (and their freedom will therefore be compromised) if they are not substantially involved in court proceedings—­if they are not allowed to be “present in spirit” as members of a jury. The “right that they receive”, he says, will remain for them an “external fate [äußerliches Schicksal]” (PR §228). Hegel’s remarks on Anaxagoras in the Introduction to his Philosophy of History supply further evidence that he rejects a fate that is blind in the two respects I just specified. He praises Anaxagoras for being the first to convey the thought that nature is “governed unchangeably by general laws” and for thereby rejecting the  Epicurean assumption that everything that happens is a product of chance (PH 14/23). But although Hegel endorses the Anaxagorean thesis that the world is governed by reason or “noûs” (PH 15/23), he discovers two weaknesses in Anaxagoras’ elaboration of the thesis. First, Anaxagoras made the mistake of supposing that the plan of Providence must remain hidden from us. Hegel singles this assumption out for attack in these pages because he wants us to appreciate that a principal task of his own philosophy of history is to “recognize [erkennen] the ways of Providence” (PH 16/26; my emphasis). His philosophy of history will make the plan of God or Providence explicit; it will challenge the “prejudice” of Anaxagoras and others that the plan must remain mysterious to us (PH 17/26). Second, Anaxagoras considered fate to be blind in the sense of “external”. Although Anaxagoras is to be credited for affirming the ultimate rationality of nature, he nonetheless treated laws of nature merely as “external causes [äußeriche Ursachen]” (PH 15/24).138 In identifying laws of reason with external causes, Anaxagoras in effect committed himself to a purely mechanical approach to laws of nature. He in other words failed to rely on a causality of purposes in his investigations of nature. His second mistake, then, was to identify noûs with mechanical forces or causes; he overlooked the proper respect in which nature, as Hegel says, is “a development of reason” (PH 15/24). Although Anaxagoras intended his 138 These remarks occur in the context of Hegel’s discussion of Plato’s critique of Anaxagoras (Hegel references Plato’s Phaedo, 97c–98c).

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  101 doctrine of the rationality of nature to offer a genuine alternative to the Epicurean proposition that all that happens is a matter of chance, in the end Anaxagoras followed Epicurus in embracing the thesis that the world is governed by a fate that is blind in sense of “external”. In the context of this critique of Anaxagoras, Hegel identifies the commitment to a fate that is blind qua “external” as a commitment to a thoroughly mechanistic explanatory framework, a framework that allows no role for a causality of purposes. A moment ago, however, I suggested that Hegel’s complaint about a merely “external” fate is that it conflicts with a commitment to human freedom. It thus appears that I am attributing to Hegel two separate conceptions of the “externality” of fate. On the one hand, fate is external, for Hegel, if it conflicts with our freedom; on the other, fate is external if it connects events merely mechanically or accidentally. These two descriptions of externality are indeed distinct. In one case, Hegel uses the label “externality” to condemn a certain explanatory approach. As we saw in Chapter 3, he follows Kant in arguing that if we rely solely on mechanical causes in our investigations into nature or history, we undercut the possibility of explanation. Hegel discovers this flaw, as I just noted, in the explanatory approaches of both Epicurus and Anaxagoras. But sometimes Hegel uses the term “external” as a metaphysical predicate; it characterizes the nature of a thing (whether an idea, object, or event). The right of members of a jury to be physically present in court, for example, is no better than an “external fate” insofar as members are not also allowed to be “present in spirit”. Although Hegel insists that all inquiry, regardless of its subject matter, must avoid externality and avail itself of the idea of purpose, he does not conclude from this that all objects of inquiry must avoid or lack externality. To put the point differently, he does not try to persuade us that all objects of human thought have the capacity for freedom. Most obviously (and as we saw back in Chapter 3), inorganic nature or “matter” is on his description wholly unfree. Inorganic nature is to no extent self-­moving; for this reason, its realm is one of complete externality.139

4.1  Ancient versus Modern Conceptions of Necessity Before moving forward, I want to stress that my main goal in this chapter is to further defend the thesis with which I concluded Chapter 3, namely that it is the idea of freedom, according to Hegel, that gives world history its necessity. 139  See Chapter 3, section 3.4 in this volume. Hegel describes inorganic nature as governed by blind necessity because he takes it to be moved exclusively by external forces. In inorganic nature, “all things are mutually external”; the connections among things are “external” because they are not internally driven (EG §381A). I have more to say about the externality of inorganic nature in Chapter  5, section 5.1.

102  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit My  defense requires us to examine his conception of freedom more carefully. That task in turn demands that we explain passages that appear to suggest that, far from compatible with our freedom, Hegel’s fatalism undermines it. I noted earlier that Hegel is undoubtedly committed to some version of fatalism. The case can be made, too, that he believes his fatalism is entirely compatible with human freedom. In this chapter, our task is to begin to make that compatibility both intelligible and plausible. So far, we have reviewed preliminary textual support in favor of the proposal that, although Hegel considers human history to be fated or providentially determined in a certain respect, he rejects a fate that is blind in each of the following two senses: (i) blind, because unknowable by us; (ii) blind, because external. The externality of fate, as I have noted, can refer for Hegel either to a deficiency in our mode of inquiry (as when our inquiry makes no use of a certain idea of purpose) or to a fate that is neither an expression of nor compatible with our freedom. In this and the subsequent sections of this chapter, I will focus for the most part on this second sense of externality. (I return to Hegel’s response to the other versions of the blind fate thesis in later chapters.) We encounter further evidence that Hegel rejects a fate that is blind in the two general respects I just highlighted in a rich Addition in the Encyclopaedia Logic in which he contrasts two conceptions of necessity [Notwendigkeit]. Hegel labels one conception that of the “modern” or “Christian”, and the other that of the “ancients [Alten]”. His discussion demonstrates that he associates profound practical implications with the specific version of necessity we endorse. In his words, our view of necessity, “determines our human contentment and discontent, and thereby our very fate or destiny [Schicksal]” (EL §147A).140 Before we turn our attention to the passage, a terminological note is in order. Although we may find it natural to use the terms “fate” and “necessity” interchangeably, Hegel distinguishes them in the discussion we are about to consider. He tells us that the ancients adhere to the conception of necessity as “fate” or “destiny [Schicksal]”. For the ancients, necessity is a doctrine of fate or destiny, he explains, because necessity on their account is “comfortless [trostlos]”. For the moderns or Christians, in contrast, necessity is not equivalent to fate or destiny precisely because it is a doctrine of comfort or consolation [Trostes].141 Our discussion in this section will reveal that Hegel is fully satisfied with neither the modern nor the ancient means of coping with necessity; he accepts and 140  I have much benefitted from McCarney’s discussion of this passage. See his Hegel on History, 204–207. For a defense of the view that Hegel recognizes diverse conceptions of fate, see e.g. Lydia Moland, “And Why Not? Hegel, Comedy and the End of Art” in Verifiche: Rivista Trisemesterale di Scienze Umane XLV, no. 1–2 (2016): 73–104. 141  The “ancients . . . considered necessity [Notwendigkeit] as fate or destiny [Schicksal]; the modern standpoint, in contrast, is that of comfort or consolation [Trostes]” (EL §147A). It is worth recalling Kant’s remark in “Idea of a Universal History” that his idea of history gives us a “consoling [tröstende] view of the future” (8:30).

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  103 rejects features of both. We will see that what he finds most problematic about the ancient view is its commitment to the assumption that necessity is blind in the sense of unknowable. His chief complaint about the modern or Christian view, in contrast, is that its version of necessity is blind because it is “external”. That is, he most objects to the modern or Christian view of necessity insofar as it is incompatible with a fully adequate account of human freedom. Hegel’s treatment of these two conceptions of necessity merits our consideration because it reveals much about his own preferred alternative. It gives us clues to the specific kind of fatalism he endorses. It is important that we bear in mind, in addition, that Hegel paints his portraits of these two worldviews with a very broad brush. Christianity, after all, comes in various forms, and there is likewise no single ancient philosophy. Barely evident in this discussion, too, is Hegel’s preference for some branches of Christianity over others, and of the extent to which his own conception of Spirit is indebted to the Christian Trinitarian doctrine of a God who descends into and transfigures the human realm. There is little trace in these remarks of Hegel’s careful and extensive engagement with the history of religion in his early theological writings or in his Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion.142 Nonetheless and for reasons I just mentioned, this passage from the Encyclopaedia allows us to identify key features of his particular form of fatalism. I begin with Hegel’s portrayal of the Christian or modern conception of necessity. (For brevity’s sake, I will usually refer to this as the “modern” view.143) Hegel suggests in this passage that the modern is involved in something of a blame game. At least, this is the case for the modern who treats human subjectivity as “finite” and therefore as principally concerned with the satisfaction of “private inclinations and interests”. This modern blames necessity for the fact that we have bodies, experience pain, and are prone to be swept away by passion. She blames necessity, Hegel furthermore implies, for the social and environmental factors that constrain our choices. On top of that, this modern holds fate or necessity responsible for the fact that we can never be perfectly good. We can never be perfectly good, from this perspective, because the goal of perfection effectively 142  See, too, EG §552, where Hegel conveys his preference for Lutheranism over Catholicism in his discussion of their respective treatments of the holy host. In Catholicism, “God is in the host . . . as an external thing [äußerliches Ding]”. From this externality follow a number of ills, such as “bondage, non-­spirituality, and superstition”. All of this is a ‘perversion’ of the “very meaning of Spirit”. In the Lutheran Church, in contrast, “the host as such is not at first consecrated, but in the moment of enjoyment, i.e. in the annihilation of its externality, and in the act of faith . . . only then is it consecrated and exalted to be present God [gegenwärtigen Gotte]”. The Protestant vision Hegel prefers is one in which the “divine Spirit” is not “external” but “immanently interpenetrates [immanent durchdringen]” all “secular life [das Weltliche]”. As Fackenheim describes it in The Religious Dimension of Hegel’s Thought, Hegel interprets the Catholic subject as “passively” accepting the host from others, in what is an “unfree subjection” to “ecclesiastical authority”, 147n, 159. For the Lutheran, however, what is external “enters into” the human and is directly connected to the faith of the subject, 143. 143  Hegel uses these labels interchangeably in this discussion.

104  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit requires us to do what it is not possible for us to do, namely escape necessity: fully detach ourselves from our bodies, from laws of nature, and from our unique place in history.144 Hegel indicates here that the modern who treats human subjectivity as finite in these respects interprets the doctrine of necessity as a doctrine of “comfort” or “consolation [Trost]”. She seeks comfort—­even “compensation [Ersatz]”—for the ways in which necessity constrains our freedom, and for the various “renunciations [Versichte]” we must endure in our efforts to be good. Moreover, she urges us to satisfy our demand for comfort and compensation elsewhere. We are to have faith in the possibility of future reward, dispensed in a life beyond this one.145 Hegel denounces this coping strategy as a doctrine of “unfreedom” and source of “unhappiness”. As is suggested in this Addition, this modern encourages us to “shift the blame for what befalls us onto other people, onto unfavorable circumstances, and the like” (EL §147A). For this modern, necessity is something that just happens to us and is not to any significant extent up to us; it is not, then, an expression of our freedom. In this respect, it is a necessity that is “external”.146 Hegel implies in these remarks that this modern approach is objectionable insofar as it encourages in us what the Sartrean would characterize as acts of “bad faith”.147 Turning, now, to Hegel’s treatment of the ancient response to necessity, he deems this response to be more compelling on a number of counts. The ancients on his portrayal offer us neither a means of escape nor a doctrine of consolation. Instead, they recommend that we cultivate an attitude of “serene submission [ruhige Ergebung]” to fate or destiny [Schicksal]. We are to accept or reconcile ourselves to necessity, they counsel us, because whatever happens was meant to happen. For the ancients, Hegel suggests, something “is so, because it is, and it

144  Hegel does not elaborate here on the various kinds of contingencies that the modern holds responsible for its misfortunes. He merely observes that there is much that is “accidental” or “contingent [Zufälliges]” that befalls us, and I am assuming that he has accidents of both nature and history in mind. 145  Hegel makes no reference in these remarks to a life beyond this one (a Jenseits), but he elsewhere indicates his impatience with a version of the Christian doctrine of eternal life. In his 1795–1796 essay, “The Positivity of the Christian Religion”, he contrasts a Christianity that is “positive” with the more joyful and life-­affirming Greek and Roman ethical life, which had no need for a doctrine of immortality to compensate individuals for their sacrifices to the state (Theol. 154ff./204f.). In “The Spirit of Christianity”, written a few years later, he notes that the modern Christian account of the relation of soul to body suffers from dualism. For the modern Christian, soul or spirit is “alien” to body; it is set “over against” the “dead body” (Theol. 298/415). More attractive is the “Greek view” that body and soul “persist together in one living shape”. 146  Hegel observes in this discussion that the modern fails to sufficiently appreciate that what happens to a person is “an evolution of herself [ein Evolution seiner selbst]” and that she “carries [trägt] her own guilt [Schuld]”. 147  It is worth noting, however, that this Encylopaedia passage contains traces of Hegel’s approval of a ‘higher’ form of Christianity as well, one for which human subjectivity is not just “finite” but has in addition “infinite value”. For this Christian, the doctrine of consolation acquires a “higher significance [höhere Bedeutung]”. Hegel implies that, for this more enlightened Christian, the doctrine of consolation neither rests on a dualistic metaphysics nor encourages us to blame others for our troubles.

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  105 ought to be just the way it is” (EL §147A).148 According to this view, the proper response to necessity is one of calm acceptance. The ancients wisely advise us not to try to fight or escape what is beyond our control. As I mentioned, Hegel was surely persuaded by certain aspects of the ancients’ reconciliation to necessity. This is apparent in his discussion of the proverb: “‘Everyone is the smith who forges his own fortune’ ”. Although the discussion appears in an Addition, its relevance for our purposes warrants reproducing it at length: What this [proverb] means . . . is that man has the enjoyment only of himself. The opposite view is the one where we shift the blame for what befalls us onto other people, onto unfavorable circumstances, and the like. But that is just the standpoint of unfreedom . . . , and the source of unhappiness as well. By contrast, when we recognize that whatever happens to us is only an evolution of our own selves, and that we carry only the burden of our own debts [Schuld], we behave as free men; and whatever may befall us, we keep the firm faith that nothing unjust can happen to us. People who live in discord with themselves and their lot get involved in much that is wrong and awry, precisely because of the false opinion that injustice has been done to them by others. Now, certainly, there is much that is contingent [Zufälliges] in what happens to us. But this contingency is grounded in the natural dimension of man [Dies Zufällige ist . . . in der Natürlichkeit des Menschen begründet]. And, since we also have the consciousness of our freedom, the harmony of our souls and our peace of mind will not be destroyed by the misfortunes that befall us.

Note that, in the final sentence of this passage, Hegel implies that the ancient view offers us at least some degree of comfort. It assures us that, as long as we remain conscious of our freedom, we can enjoy “peace of mind” in the face of the “misfortunes that befall us”. This point is curious in light of the fact that, elsewhere in this discussion, Hegel suggests that the ancient view of necessity is a doctrine of fate or destiny [Schicksal] precisely because it denies us comfort (is “trostlos”).149 If we examine his remarks in §147A more closely, however, we discover that he holds not that the ancient account of necessity is to be admired because it denies us comfort altogether; rather, it is to be admired for denying us a certain kind of comfort. In contrast to those modern Christians who treat human subjectivity as finite, the ancients resist drawing their comfort from the expectation that they 148  This remark echoes the stoic doctrine that, in Marcus Aurelius’ words, “Everything that happens, is right” (The Meditations, Book IV, §10). Aurelius further recommends that we cultivate in ourselves an attitude of serene acceptance of our destiny. It is worth noting Kant’s admiration for stoicism as well. Consider, for example, the final paragraph of his “Conjectural Beginnings” in which he advises “contentment with the ways of Providence [Zufriedenheit mit der Vorsehung]” (8:121). 149  See note 141 above.

106  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit will one day be compensated for their misery in a world beyond this one. The ancients have no need for a doctrine of immortality.150 Instead, they confidently affirm that we can derive comfort here and now from our consciousness of our freedom. This kind of assurance is key to what Hegel finds compelling about the ancient view. But we should not overlook the fact that Hegel discovers weaknesses in the ancient doctrine of necessity as well. He complains that the doctrine is one of “unrevealed necessity [unenthüllte Notwendigkeit]” (EL §147A). The ancients conceive of necessity as “unrevealed” or “blind” in that they assume that it must remain a mystery to us. We are to accept necessity as our fate [Schicksal], and to carry the burden of our debts. But since necessity on this account is blind or incomprehensible, we remain dumbfounded in the face of it. Since we cannot know it, we have no option but to give into it; our ignorance prevents us from productively responding to it. In this particular respect, Hegel is convinced that the modern or Christian response to necessity has the upper hand. As he observes in the Encyclopaedia passage, it is an advantage of the Christian God that it is not just “utterly self-­ knowing” but also “known [gewußt]”. For the ancients, in contrast, both Gods and humans are subject to destiny as “unrevealed necessity”, as “impersonal, without self and blind [Unpersönliche, Selbstlose und Blinde]” (EL §147A). The modern or Christian commands us not just to love but also to know God. In the introductory paragraphs of his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, Hegel praises the Christian doctrine of revelation, according to which God has: allowed human beings to understand what He is, so that he is no longer hidden and secret. With this possibility of our knowing God, the obligation to know Him is placed upon us. God wants no . . . empty heads for his children (PH 17/27).151

To summarize the results of our discussion of the Encyclopaedia passage up to this point: We have seen that Hegel’s principal objection to the ancients is that they insist that the ways of fate or necessity must remain a mystery to us. The fact 150  See note 145 above. McCarney emphasizes this point in Hegel on History, 203f. 151  This theme shows up in various discussions. See, for example, the Preface to the Phenomenology where Hegel writes that what matters is not just the “love” of knowing but “actual knowing [wirkliches Wissen]” (¶ 5). (He makes a similar remark in PR §343.) There is much more to be said about (especially Protestant) Christian creeds that Hegel endorses, such as the doctrine of an immanent versus transcendent God, a God who enters into and transforms this world, who is forgiving rather than fearful, and who is at once divine and human. For further discussion of Hegel’s positive assessment of certain Christian doctrines, see e.g. Fackenheim, The Religious Dimension of Hegel’s Thought, especially Chapter  6; Houlgate, Freedom, Truth and History, Chapter  4; Jean Hyppolite, Introduction to Hegel’s Philosophy of History, especially Chapter  3, trans. B.  Harris and J.  B.  Spurlock (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1996); Jaeschke, “Christianity and Secularity in Hegel’s Concept of the State”, The Journal of Religion 61, no. 2 (1981): 127–145.

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  107 that we are incapable of knowing necessity has the undesirable implication, moreover, that we are powerless in the face of it. Since we cannot know necessity, we have no means of effectively responding to or changing it; we must simply accept it. In contrast, a “modern” or “Christian” view assures us that we can know the ways of necessity. But this account of necessity suffers from defects of its own. At least if it treats human subjectivity as finite, the modern claims that necessity, although knowable, is nonetheless “external” in that it is ultimately not up to us. Precisely because necessity is not up to us, it is something for which we feel compelled to seek “comfort [Trost]” and “compensation [Ersatz]”. In addition, this modern or Christian denies that we can achieve adequate compensation in the here and now. Indeed, she denies that any of our needs can be fully satisfied in this life, because full satisfaction would require eliminating what cannot be eliminated, most obviously our bodies and laws of nature. Hegel takes it to be a weakness of this modern or Christian conception that it commands us to project our hopes onto a life beyond this one, and that its ‘ought’ can only become an ‘is’ in that other life. As a doctrine of consolation, this modern view furthermore tempts us to adopt an attitude of bad faith. It encourages us to blame the misfortunes that befall us on something other than ourselves, on blind necessity. For these reasons, it is a doctrine of unfreedom and therefore suffers from “externality”. If we add up Hegel’s assessment of the pros and cons of each of these two conceptions of necessity, we arrive at the conclusion that, overall, he favors that of the ancients. This preference, however, only raises further questions. For one thing, it is difficult to see why Hegel holds that the ancient point of view, which he after all describes as “trostlos”, is capable of providing us “peace of mind [Friede des Gemüts]” at all. At least as he describes it in the passage we have been considering, the recommendation of the ancients is that we respond to necessity or “contingency” by cultivating in ourselves a mental toughness—­a ‘mind over matter’ kind of stoicism. We are to wean our thoughts of fantasies about a perfect, future life, and about otherworldly sources of salvation; in addition, we are to be mindful of our capacity for freedom. The suggestion seems to be that, by following these prescriptions, we can escape our misfortunes at least relatively unscathed. Provided we bear in mind the fact that necessity is grounded in our nature and that we have some degree of freedom, we can insulate ourselves from even the most hideous atrocities. In response to this line of reasoning, it is tempting to charge that Hegel recommends this strategy of mental toughness either because he is insufficiently sensitive to the extent of human misery or because he overestimates our powers of reason and believes we can somehow think our way out of our suffering. In addition, it is difficult to see how Hegel could be convinced that his preferred doctrine of necessity (the ancients’ view of necessity as fate) is a doctrine of freedom rather than of resignation. After all, what the ancients require is our “serene submission [ruhige Ergebung]” to destiny (EL §147A). How is this

108  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit requirement an endorsement of anything other than a doctrine of surrender? In the following sections, I suggest how Hegel answers these charges.

4.2  Reconciling Ourselves to Necessity: Three Interpretative Proposals On the basis of our above discussion, we have reason to attribute the following two positions to Hegel: First, he rejects a necessity that is blind in sense of unknowable. This is his chief complaint against the ancients’ treatment of necessity. Second, he rejects a necessity that is blind in sense of external. As we saw, the externality of necessity sometimes refers for Hegel to a necessity that is incompatible with a fully adequate conception of human freedom. In the Encyclopaedia passage we just reviewed, he most explicitly associates this conception of necessity with a certain “modern” or “Christian”. Although necessity for them is something we can know, it is external in that it is ultimately not up to us. Precisely because these moderns consider necessity to be outside our control, they seek comfort and compensation for it. Hegel directs his criticism of the externality of necessity most obviously at this particular kind of modern or Christian, but this does not mean that he thinks the ancients escape externality altogether. That is, he does not try to convince us that the ancients’ treatment of necessity harmonizes with a fully satisfactory account of human freedom. Although he undeniably finds something attractive in the ancients’ insistence that we reconcile ourselves to what is and not appeal to possible other worlds for comfort or compensation, he does not unconditionally endorse their doctrine of reconciliation. After all, one reason why the ancients recommend that we adopt an attitude of serene submission is that they believe that fate must forever remain “unrevealed”. Their doctrine of serene acceptance rests on a thesis about our inescapable ignorance, a thesis Hegel unambiguously rejects. In this section, our task is to identify more precisely those elements of the ancient doctrine of reconciliation that work their way into Hegel’s own version of the doctrine. Precisely in what way does Hegel urge us to accept what is? How, furthermore, does his doctrine of acceptance or recognition give us clues to his own understanding of our freedom? I begin by considering three common interpretations of his doctrine of reconciliation and offer reasons for not taking any of them seriously. I then move on to propose a more accurate representation of Hegel’s view.

(i) First, it is common to interpret Hegel’s doctrine of reconciliation as deriving from a shallow or Panglossian optimism about the human condition. According to this interpretation, Hegel urges us to reconcile ourselves to

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  109 what is only because he is captivated by an idealized or romanticized vision of human history and blind to its darker lessons. Hegel’s idealization of reality is supposed to explain his impatience with those who seek comfort and compensation in another world. As a naïve optimist or romantic, he discovers all the comfort and consolation he needs in the here and now. (ii) The second interpretation attributes to Hegel an extreme form of ‘mind-­ over-­matter’ stoicism. His thesis of reconciliation is in other words taken to follow from his commitment to a too-­generous estimation of the capacity of human reason to master reality. On this reading, Hegel holds that we can be reconciled to what is because, as thinking natures, we are free to create or at least significantly transform material reality. No degree of physical suffering need disturb our tranquility, because we are remarkably capable of thinking our suffering away. (iii) According to the third interpretation, Hegel’s thesis of reconciliation rests neither on a romanticized picture of reality nor on an over-­generous assessment of our ability to master reality. Rather, Hegel urges us to cultivate in ourselves an attitude of acceptance and to endorse a doctrine of resignation, because he takes this to be the most rational response to the fact that we are powerless to know and alter the ways of fate. We most adequately express and realize our freedom, then, when we calmly accept what is. As I mentioned a moment ago, each of these interpretative proposals paints a familiar picture of the Hegelian doctrine of reconciliation. For example, unsympathetic readers commonly cite Hegel’s insistence upon the ‘rationality of the actual’ (in Philosophy of the Right and elsewhere) as evidence either that he is innocently oblivious to the oppressive policies and practices of the political realities of his day, or that he willfully endorses those policies and practices (perhaps because he believes they are means of achieving honorable ends). Either way, and in light of what we might take our more sober historical reflections to reveal about humanity’s appetite for cruelty, Hegel’s insistence upon the rationality of the actual seems woefully naïve. Some suggest that his naïve optimism is responsible for his stance of resignation as well, for his willingness to passively accept rather than challenge the status quo.152 The charge that Hegel is committed to an excessive ‘mind-­over-­matter’ stoicism is no less common. It shows up, for instance, in efforts to explain his unique

152  For two good defenses of Hegel in response to such criticisms, see Franz Grégoire, “Is the Hegelian State Totalitarian”, in The Hegel Myths and Legends, ed. Jon Stewart (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1996), 104–108, and in the same volume, Shlomo Avineri, “Hegel and Nationalism”, 109–128.

110  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit version of idealism. The most extreme expression of this charge attributes to Hegel the assumption that material reality is ideal in that it is literally manufactured out of acts of human thinking. On this reading, the absolute nature of Hegel’s idealism derives from his commitment to the assumption that human thinkers possess God-­like creative powers. According to a weaker and more plausible version of this line of interpretation, Hegel believes not that we can literally think material reality into existence, but that we can nevertheless master reality to an extraordinary extent; we can deploy free acts of thought to fully overcome or vanquish what is. A text often cited as evidence in favor of this interpretation is the master/slave dialectic of Hegel’s Phenomenology. Critics charge that even though the slave is effectively still in shackles at the end of the dialectic, Hegel seeks to persuade us that the slave nonetheless enjoys the most sublime form of freedom. The slave enjoys this freedom because by the end of the dialectic, he has achieved the right state of mind in response to his situation. He now truly understands the conditions of his servitude and can therefore be reconciled to it.153 As common as these three interpretative proposals are, they can be cast into doubt with little difficulty. Although there may in the end be good reasons to criticize Hegel’s faith in human progress, it can hardly be accurate to describe that faith as Panglossian. The following passage from his Introduction to the Philosophy of History, for example, suggests otherwise: When we look at this drama of human passions, and observe the consequence of their violence and of the unreason that is linked not only to them but also (and especially) to good intentions and rightful aims; when we see arising from them all the evil, the wickedness, the decline of the most flourishing nations mankind has produced, we can only be filled with grief for all that has come to nothing (PH 23f./34).

That same work contains Hegel’s description of human history as a “slaughterbench [Schlachtbank]” (PH 24/35). He mentions, too, that the failure of “nations and governments” to draw lessons from history gives him grounds for despair (PH 8/17). He accepts none of these features of the human condition with equanimity. The charge that Hegel is guilty of an extreme stoicism is vulnerable to textual pushback as well. Whatever else his idealism commits him to, it does not imply that human thinkers are in possession of the God-­like capacity to literally generate material reality. Hegel follows Kant in holding that we are discursive intellects and as such dependent for our cognition of nature on being affected in sensation 153  For classic expressions of this line of criticism, see Ludwig Feuerbach’s 1843, Grundsätze der Philosophie der Zukunft, especially §§ 21–31, and the third of Karl Marx’s 1844 Ökonomisch und Philosophische Manuskripte, “Kritik der Hegel’schen Dialektik und Philosophie”.

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  111 by a material content we do not make.154 Even in the Encyclopaedia passage we discussed at length in section  4.1, he acknowledges that there is “much that is contingent [Zufälliges] in what happens to us” (EL §147A). When he considers different responses to necessity in that passage, he gives us no indication that he supposes that human agents can simply will the accidents of nature and history away. This is likewise the lesson that emerged from our consideration back in Chapter 3 of the various respects in which Hegel discovers necessity in world history. As we saw, he takes world history to be necessary in the following three respects: it is a record of essential versus trivial events; it connects events through the idea of purpose rather than merely mechanically; it is scientific, and as such, relies on an idea of purpose that is “internal” rather than “external”. Taken either individually or collectively, these conditions on the necessity of history are entirely consistent with the assumption that much in what happens to us that is not a product of our thinking. We have good reasons, in addition, for doubting that Hegel espouses the weaker version of stoicism sketched above. Even if the form of freedom he describes in the conclusion of the master/slave dialectic can plausibly be described as stoic (with the slave achieving some degree of freedom in thought), Hegel’s discussion of the journey of consciousness in the Phenomenology does not end with the conclusion to the master/slave dialectic. Indeed, the very next section of the text (beginning at §197) contains his rather scathing critical reflections on the stoic conception of freedom. In this and other works, Hegel gives us ample reason to conclude that it is not his aim to persuade us that a freedom merely in thought is the highest or most sublime form of freedom. We can find passages, too, that are difficult to reconcile with the proposal that he holds that a freedom that is fully independent of material conditions is even possible. We need only read a bit beyond the master/slave dialectic in the Phenomenology to discover what is misguided in the criticisms of Marx and others. If we read carefully, we discover that Hegel means to challenge the assumption that, as thinking beings, we can wholly rise above or abstract away our material conditions, and thereby achieve the highest form of freedom.155 154  Although Hegel questions certain assumptions underlying Kant’s discursivity thesis and wants to be able to attribute to our form of cognition features of a non-­discursive or “intuitive” intellect, he never argues that human knowers have the creative powers of an intuitive understanding that, by exercising its cognitive powers, literally brings a material world into being. Hegel does not argue that we should wholly dispense with Kant’s distinction between independently given sensible particulars and concepts or universals we contribute a priori. In his view, what we should dispense with is the idea that these two components of our cognition are “absolutely opposed” or “heterogeneous”. A genuinely idealist system, he writes in his 1803 Faith and Knowledge [Glauben und Wissen], “does not acknowledge either one of the opposites as existing for itself in its abstraction from the other” (FK 68/GW 303). I discuss these points at length in Hegel’s Critique of Kant, especially sections 1.5 and 2.3. 155  See Fackenheim’s analysis of why Hegel takes stoicism to lead to an “unhappy consciousness” in Religious Dimension, 44–48. Fackenheim persuasively makes the case that Hegelian Spirit is to a significant extent reactive or responsive, and that the acts of self-­assertion that move it forward occur

112  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit Needless to say, it would be too much to expect that, just by citing a few texts, we can fully exonerate Hegel of the charges just outlined. A more promising strategy does not merely quote a few select passages that appear to conflict with the standard readings. A more promising strategy—­the one I will adopt—­pieces together an alternative interpretation of Hegel’s doctrine of reconciliation, an interpretation that better harmonizes with a wide range of textual evidence. What is needed is an interpretation that explains not just how each of the three standard readings falls short, but also how each also contains a grain of truth. Hegel is not naïvely optimistic, but he is no hard-­hearted pessimist either; he believes, after all, in the progress of world history. He adopts neither forms of stoicism I just reviewed, but he nonetheless to some extent embraces the stoic faith in human reason’s power to master reality. And although Hegel does not characterize our freedom as the passive surrender to what is, he surely discovers something compelling in the ancients’ recommendation that we ‘serenely submit’ to destiny. I have provided crude sketches of three versions of the doctrine of reconciliation resting on, respectively: Panglossian optimism, ‘mind over matter’ stoicism, and the recommendation of resignation motivated by an assumption about the impotence of our reason. I do not mean to imply that these represent the only possible versions of the doctrine. (As I have suggested, Hegel’s doctrine of reconciliation is itself a further version.) At this point, however, it is worth emphasizing that the recommendation that we reconcile ourselves to what is can have different implications depending on our specific philosophical objectives and conception of human nature. If we are persuaded, for instance, that human beings are simply biological machines, then we do ourselves no favors trying to pretend that we can freely shape our destiny. In this case, the most rational attitude might indeed be one of calm resignation. That attitude might be worth cultivating even if our position is less extreme and implies that we have the capacity for freedom but are for some reason unable to effectively exercise it (perhaps because of persistent and overwhelming countervailing forces). As I noted a moment ago, I will argue that Hegel’s doctrine of reconciliation rests on the different assumption that we possess a capacity for freedom that is significantly creative and transformative. In this respect, he at least to some extent shares the stoic’s conviction that human reason can master nature and history. Hegel rejects the doctrine of resignation, then, insofar as it rests on a thesis of reason’s powerlessness. Moreover, his faith in the power of reason grounds his confidence that we indeed have some capacity to shape our fate. It is the basis of his optimism. The task of defending this alternative reading of Hegel’s doctrine of reconciliation of course requires us to faithfully represent his explanation of the relation always, “in the context of the preexisting conditions against which they are asserted”, 48. As should be evident by now, one of my principal aims in this work is to defend this line of interpretation.

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  113 between our freedom and what is ‘external’ to it, that is, to the objects and events (the contingencies or “blind necessities”) that we as free natures cannot create or control: forces of nature, historical accidents, and so forth. It is therefore crucial that we accurately capture Hegel’s understanding of the extent of our freedom’s creative power or mastery. We need to do so if we are to fill in the details of his unique version of fatalism, according to which the “first traces of Spirit virtually contain all history” (PH 21/31).

4.3 Conclusion We established in Chapter Three that, in certain respects, Hegel awards contingency no place in his philosophy of history. For one thing, contingency is not in his view a proper object of the historian’s investigations. It is not the philosophic historian’s task to record the fleeting pursuits of individuals; she aims instead to relay what is universal or essential—­to tell the story of the “substance [Substanz]” of world history (PH 19/29).156 Nor does the philosopher of history construct her narrative by cataloguing chance connections, on Hegel’s account. Rather, she looks for purposive connections; moreover, she unites events by means of an idea of purpose that is “internal” and as such “necessary”. Her idea of purpose is scientific (versus merely positive) insofar as it reveals ends that are “absolute” rather than merely “relative” (PH 60/77). Her idea of world history reveals ends that express the “inner guiding soul [innere leitende Seele]” rather than the mere “outer thread [äußere Faden]” of human actions (PH 9f./19). But from the fact that contingency has no place in Hegel’s philosophy of history in these respects, it of course does not follow that Hegel aims to eliminate contingency from his philosophy of history altogether. Although he insists that his philosophic history does not focus its attention on the “prosperity or misfortune of this or that single man”, he does not set out to convince us that prosperity or misfortune cannot befall this or that man. Nor does Hegel take his thesis that the historian can discover purpose in history to imply that everything that happens, happens for a purpose. He surely acknowledges the presence of contingency in human affairs. In the Encyclopaedia passage we discussed at length in section 4.1, he explicitly grants that there is “much that is contingent [Zufälliges] in what happens to us”. Contingency can no more be eliminated, in his view, than we can eliminate nature from human nature. Contingency is after all, “grounded in the natural dimension of man [Die Zufällige ist . . . in der Natürlichkeit des Menschen begründet]” (EL §147A).

156  See also in PR §343 where Hegel ridicules those for whom world history is no more than a “superficial play of contingent and allegedly ‘merely human’ aspirations and passions”.

114  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit In addition, Hegel does not attempt to demonstrate that what we experience as contingent may be deduced a priori from some concept or idea and thereby demonstrated to be necessary. He tells us he is not in the business of ‘constructing’ [konstruieren] appearances “a priori” (EL §145A; see also EN §250).157 And although Hegel insists that the principal task of the historian is to capture the universal, he does not urge the philosopher of history to wholly ignore what is accidental or contingent. On the contrary, he warns that sciences that try to ignore contingency risk becoming “pedantic”: It is quite correct to say that the task of science and, more precisely, of philosophy, consists generally in coming to know the necessity that is hidden under the semblance of contingency; but this must not be understood to mean that ­contingency pertains only to our subjective views and that it must therefore be set aside totally if we wish to attain the truth. Scientific endeavors that one-­sidedly push in this direction will not escape the justified reproach of being an empty game and a rigid pedantry [steifen Pedantismus].  (EL §145A)

Needless to say, the task of determining the precise role Hegel awards contingency in his philosophy of history (and in his system overall) is far from straightforward. I have cited evidence in favor of the proposal that he indeed awards a place for it, but I will need to provide further evidence in what follows. My objective in the present section has been to stress the importance of accurately capturing Hegel’s account of the relation of our freedom to contingency, that is, to the “externalities” we as free natures do not make. How does he think it is possible for us to shape or control our fate, in spite of the fact that there is “much that is contingent [Zufälliges] in what happens to us”? To what extent is human freedom or Spirit capable of transforming or “idealizing” history, in his view?158 How, exactly, is human history a “development of reason” (PH 15/24)? These are questions about the respective contributions to world history of our faculty of reason, on the one hand, and externality or contingency, on the other. We raised similar questions in the context of our discussion of Hegel’s philosophic method in Chapter 2. We discovered there that Hegel acknowledges that his philosophic approach to world history appears self-­contradictory precisely because it is somehow supposed to be not just “a priori” or “reflective” but also in some way factually or empirically based. The challenge for the interpreter is to determine just how his approach to world history avoids self-­contradiction. 157  The thesis that Hegel seeks to deduce individual appearances from an “absolute apriorism” has been decisively challenged by Dieter Henrich in “Hegels Theorie über den Zufall”, Kant-­Studien 50 (1958–59): 131–148. 158  To ask this question differently, how is Spirit capable of idealizing history in a way analogous to its “idealization [Idealisierung]” of nature (EG §381A)?

Hegel ’ s Fatalism as a Theory of Freedom  115 Our present challenge is similar. What I have been referring to in this chapter as Hegel’s fatalism relies, on the one hand, on a premise about the genuinely transformative power of human reason, a power reason has to shape its fate. I  have suggested, however, that Hegel nonetheless resists awarding reason too much creative or transformative power. In his estimation, the stoic ‘mind over matter’ account (in both versions we reviewed) is implausibly extreme. Hegel wants to persuade us that our reason has to contend with a world it does not make; it must confront the contingencies or externalities that are “grounded in the natural dimension of man” (EL §147A). On the interpretation I will defend, his message is not just that, in seeking to express itself, reason faces a sometimes chaotic and recalcitrant world. Rather, he wants us to appreciate the extent to which reason’s laws and concepts (what I have been referring to as its “content”) somehow themselves reflect contingency. Otherwise put, reason’s content is to a significant extent itself both a priori and empirical. Reason’s laws and concepts are both expressions of its freedom and knowable objects of historical investigation. More precisely, reason’s products are by and large not pure ideas that supposedly derive from its capacity to wholly abstract from natural and historical contingency. This is because, in Hegel’s view, no human mind can ‘master’ matter to that extent. If the challenges we now face are simply reformulations of those with which we concluded Chapter 2, to what extent have we made progress in this and the previous chapter? The answer is that we have narrowed the field of plausible interpretations of Hegel’s fatalism. In Chapter 3, we determined that world history is “fated”, in his view, because it is the story of the necessary course of Spirit (PH 13/22; see also PH 12/20). More precisely, world history is a story of necessary versus merely accidental connection. We furthermore saw that Hegel’s commitment to necessity does not imply that he denies a place for contingency in history outright. A genuinely “philosophic” approach to world history, on his account, is primarily concerned with necessity. Finding necessity in history is a matter of discovering purposes in history, and Hegel holds that what purposively connects world historical events is a particular idea of freedom. That idea of freedom therefore gives history its necessity. In the present chapter, I have added specificity to the kind of necessity or fate Hegel discovers in world history. It is a fate that is not blind in the following two respects: First, it is not blind because it is not external. That is, Hegel’s conception of fate in the context of his world history is in his view compatible with a robust conception of human freedom. Hegelian freedom is robust in that it is genuinely transformative rather than a mere surrender or “serene submission” to what is. But although Hegelian freedom is transformative, it is not radically so. Hegel’s objective is not to persuade us that human nature is capable of unconditionally mastering reality. We can achieve freedom, but this freedom affords us no complete detachment from the constraints of what is. Indeed, and as I have been

116  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit suggesting all along, Hegel denies that complete detachment or transcendence is possible for creatures like us. Second, our fate is not “blind” in the sense of “unknowable”. As we saw, this is a feature of the ancient treatment of necessity that Hegel rejects. A key premise of his argument is contained in the point just mentioned, namely that although our freedom is transformative, it is not a capacity for radical detachment; it is a freedom discoverable in rather than beyond nature. In Chapter 6, we will consider how Hegel justifies his thesis that our fate or freedom is not just expressed or objectified in world history but is also a proper object of our knowledge. Our more immediate concern in Chapter 5, however, will be with Hegel’s reasons for arguing against the thesis that our fate is blind in the sense of external.

5 Freedom’s Necessary Limits “What the human being is supposed to become, is not settled by instinct” (PR §174A). In Chapter 4, I argued that Hegel understands human freedom, not as a passive surrender or acquiescence to what is, but as a genuinely transformative and ­creative capacity. Although he undeniably defends some version of fatalism, he believes his fatalism is compatible with a robust freedom; it is a fatalism that is not blind in the sense of external. But in precisely what way is human freedom robust or transformative, according to Hegel? On the interpretation I have defended, Hegel resists not just the extreme thesis that, by exercising our special powers, we can will the material world into being, but also the more modest proposal that the highest form of freedom allows us to wholly transcend material reality in thought. The challenge before us now is to explain his strategy for replacing these versions of ‘mind over matter’ stoicism with an account of human freedom as at once transformative and significantly limited or conditioned. In what does our freedom’s transformative power consist? How is it a power that we, but not other animal natures, possess? And to what extent is it conditioned or constrained, in his view? I begin in section 5.1 by further exploring Hegel’s portrayal of freedom’s transformative nature. I then make more precise the respects in which he nonetheless considers it to be limited. I argue that our freedom is limited, on his account, at least in part because it is a capacity we have as creatures of nature. Hegelian freedom is not a “transcendental” form of spontaneity; it is a causal power, but not one that allows agents to initiate a causal series from a standpoint outside time. In section 5.2, I suggest that our freedom is furthermore limited, for Hegel, in that its content (more precisely, its concepts and laws) comes into being as a consequence of its development over time and in history, that is, as a consequence of its efforts to manifest or objectify itself. In the course of its development, human freedom must contend with factors beyond its control. In doing so, it acquires a content; its content is not given at the start as fully determinate. I argue in section 5.3 that we can conclude from this that Hegel grants contingency a role in generating our idea of freedom. In section 5.4, I draw out the following important implication of this contingency: if Spirit’s journey is conditioned by factors outside its control, we have to conclude that its path could have unfolded differently. Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0006

118  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit I conclude in section 5.5 by introducing the interpretative challenge I explore in Chapter  6, namely that I am mistaken in suggesting that Hegel acknowledges anything more than the appearance of contingency.

5.1  Human Freedom: In but not Reducible to Nature Hegel is committed to the relatively uncontroversial premise that freedom is a capacity that significantly distinguishes human nature from other living natures. In an illuminating passage in the Encyclopaedia, he remarks that it is precisely because we possess a will, and are therefore free or “spirited [geistig]” creatures, that we surpass other natures in our ability to transform or “triumph [überwinden]” over “externality [Äußerlichkeit]” (EG §381A). But what does Hegel have in mind by this capacity to “triumph over externality”? Whatever else he means by it, he nowhere suggests that it is a capacity that only “spirited” natures possess. Plants and non-­human animals can ‘triumph over externality’ as well, in his view—­at least to some extent. The fact that Hegel defends this latter assumption is evident, for instance, in his description of natural organisms in the Philosophy of History. Their existence: proceeds from an immutable inner principle—­a simple essence, a simple germ [Keim] at first, which then brings forth differentiations from within, so that it becomes involved with other things. Thus, natural organisms live in a continuous process of change that goes over into their opposite, transforming it into the maintenance of the organic principle and its formation. In this way, the organic individual produces [produziert] itself; it makes itself into what it implicitly [an sich] is.  (PH 58/75f.)

As Hegel describes an organism’s growth or development in this passage, what begins as a “simple germ” or “seed” may go on to exhibit some degree of self-­ motion. In his Encyclopaedia, he tells us that in plants, for example, there is a “self-­development from within outwards, a unity which differentiates itself and from its differentiation produces itself with the bud, something, therefore, to which we attribute a drive [Trieb]” (EG §381A). In exhibiting powers of self-­ development or self-­motion, plants and other organic beings are thus not entirely passive. They possess internal properties by means of which they can effect change both in themselves and in other things. They are in this respect capable of some measure of self-­production.159 159  In contrast with inorganic nature or “matter [Materie]”, “the existence [of organic nature] presents itself [sich darstellt] not just as something immediate and changeable by outside forces [von außen veränderliche]” (PH 58/75). Interestingly, however, Hegel sometimes attributes self-­motion to matter

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  119 Of course, different forms of life exhibit different causal powers and degrees of self-­production. In common with plants, non-­human animals are wholly governed by instinct or nature (PH 58/75, PR §4). Non-­human animals nevertheless surpass plants in their powers of self-­motion. As Hegel describes them, non-­ human animals distinguish themselves from plants in their possession of “feelings [Empfindungen]” (EG §381A). The fact that they possess feelings is responsible for the especially close connection and interdependence of their parts. When part of an animal receives an “impression” or “impulse [Eindruck]”, that impulse is communicated to the whole. Although such communication is to some degree possible for plants as well, Hegel suggests that the fact that animals possess feelings explains why their parts are more intimately related than the parts of plants. In animals, the “whole is so pervaded by its unity that nothing in it appears as independent”; parts of an animal are “held in complete subjection to the unity of the subject” (EG §381A). It is in virtue of their capacity for feeling that animals even possess some form of self-­determination and “subjective inwardness [subjektiven Innerlichkeit]” (EG §381A).160 Non-­human animals nonetheless cannot properly be classified as “spirited [geistig]” natures. Although capable of some degree of self-­motion or self-­ production, they lack our form of freedom because they are incapable of thought. They lack the power to abstract, that is, to “think things over [Nachdenken]” or “reflect [reflektieren]”; they cannot bring any content or object “to consciousness [zum Bewußtsein bringen]” (EL §2). Non-­human animals possess “feelings [Gefühle]” and “intuitions [Anschauungen]” but not “thoughts [Gedanken]” or “concepts [Begriffe]” (EL §§3, 50, see also PR §4).161

as well. He writes in his Encyclopaedia that matter “divides itself [sich trennt] into concrete points, into material atoms, of which it is composed” (EG §381A). Even “universal corporeality” “divides itself ” into particular bodies, and here Hegel has in mind celestial bodies (EN §269). Although matter can therefore be described aspossessing self-­motion, it nonetheless suffers from “externality” because its parts are“independent existences”; their “connection” is “external to them”. Hegel’s point here seems to be that no part of matter is capable of sensing its connection to any other part. Matter’s “externality”, then, is tied to the fact that it lacks any capacity for sensation. 160  It is because plants lack feelings that their parts are independent from the whole. Each part of a plant, Hegel says, is a “repetition [Wiederholung]” or duplication of “the whole plant”. Because animals possess feelings, however, any “impression [Eindruck]” received by a part is communicated to the whole (EG §381A). Hegel implies that the faculty of feeling explains how an animal is a more intimate unity than a plant. He writes here not just of the “subjectivity” of an animal but of the fact that it is “determined [bestimmt]” “through itself [durch sich selbst]”. 161  Hegel implies in one passage that non-­human animals are indeed capable of forming “representations [Vorstellungen]” (EL §3), and he sometimes seems to identify Vorstellungen with “thoughts”. Consider, for example, his remark that “[e]very representation [Vorstellung] is a generalization [Verallgemeinerung], and this [power of generalization] belongs to thought [Denken]” (PR §4A). At EL §3, however, he describes Vorstellungen (in this case of “feelings [Gefühl]”, “intuition [Anschauung]”, “desire [Begehren]”, and “willing [Willen]”) as “metaphors [Metaphern]” for thoughts and concepts. He warns us against inferring from the fact that a creature is capable of forming Vorstellungen, that it also possesses the power of thought. The latter requires the additional ability to know the “meaning [Bedeutung]” of a Vorstellung. (See his discussions also at EL §19A2 and §50.)

120  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit We are now in a position to identify the basis of Hegel’s assertion that human nature can ‘triumph over externality’ in a way that other creatures cannot. Human nature possesses the power of thought and therefore also freedom. In common with non-­human animals, we have desires and seek their gratification. But when our desires go unsatisfied, we have resources available to us that other animals lack. When a non-­human animal is frustrated in its effort to capture its object, it can alter its mode of attack. What it cannot do, however, is alter its conception of its object. A non-­human animal has no conception to alter; it lacks the ability to adopt a point of view. A non-­human animal is unable to conclude upon reflection that its object is unworthy of its attention, nor can it arrive at a new self-­ understanding and dismiss any of its desires as excessive or inappropriate. Hegel’s rather obscure way of expressing this point is to tell us that, in the case of a non-­ human organism: nothing can come between the concept and its realization, between the implicitly determinate nature of the seed and the adaptation of its existence thereto. (PH 58/75f.)

Nothing can come between a non-­human animal’s concept and its realization, presumably, because the non-­human animal’s behaviors are mere responses to nature’s commands; it can neither evaluate nor resist them. Lacking self-­conscious awareness, its development and self-­production is “unmediated” by “consciousness and will” (EG§381A).162 In contemporary idiom, Hegel’s point is that the non-­human animal is incapable of acting from reasons. In contrast, human development and “self-­production” is mediated by “consciousness and will”. Thanks to our special faculties, it is possible for us to represent to ourselves the objects of our desire; we can make an object “into a thought” (PR §4A). We can reflect on what is, judge what is to be deficient or wanting, and set for ourselves the goal of overcoming or changing it. In this way, we are uniquely able to ‘triumph over externality’ and in doing so distinguish ourselves from nature (EG §381A). As Hegel puts it:

Although incapable of our kind of freedom, even non-­human animals are “idealists”, Hegel asserts, because they are capable of transforming objects and thereby demonstrating that those objects are not wholly self-­sufficient (PR §44A). Hegel thus implies that all it takes to be an idealist is the power to transform other things (even if just by eating them!). One need not possess the power to bring objects into being, nor need one even be a thinking being. 162  Because spirit is “mediated by consciousness and will,” it “stands in opposition to itself ”. Only in its case development change involves the clash of old with new forms of self-­understanding. That is, only in the case of spirit can development be propelled by inner conflict—­by a “hard and endless struggle” of spirit with itself (PH 58f./76). In contrast, development among non-­reflective organisms is on Hegel’s description “quiescent [ein ruhiges Hervorgehen]”.

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  121 it is man who first raises himself above the singleness of sensation to the ­universality of thought, to self-­knowledge . . . in a word, it is only man who is thinking mind and by this, and by this alone, is essentially distinguished from nature. (EG §381A)163

In summary, what the human being is supposed to become, “is not settled by instinct” (PR §174A). We are thinking beings and therefore possess powers of development and self-­production that other creatures lack. Without the power of thought, we would not qualify as free or “spirited” natures, in Hegel’s view. The power of thought explains how our self-­production and development is uniquely mediated, as he says, by “consciousness and will”.164 A moment ago, I noted that Hegel holds that it is not just the power of thought that distinguishes us from other creatures, but also our possession of freedom, that is, of a will.165 But what is the will, on his account, and how does it differ as a faculty from that of thought? I am going to postpone until section 5.3 any discussion of Hegel’s treatment of the various stages of the will and of factors responsible for its development. My present objectives are simply to clarify his reasons for exclusively attributing a will to human animal natures and to explain how he conceives of the relation of the will to thought. This will prepare us for appreciating the respect in which Hegel considers our freedom to be at once transformative and limited. It is worth recalling, first, that Hegel holds that we would have no will [Wille] without the capacity for thought. A non-­human animal has feelings, desires or urges, and instincts, but it is unable to “represent to itself ” the object of its desire (PR §4A). Lacking the power of abstraction or thought, it strictly speaking possesses no will. Non-­human animals are furthermore unlike us in that they can bear no responsibility for their thoughts and actions. This is why Hegel describes them as “truly innocent [wahrhaft unschuldig]” (PH 37/51).166

163  Hegel remarks in the Encyclopaedia that the “first act of reflection” performed by humanity occurred when Adam and Eve became aware of their nakedness, an awareness that produced in them feelings of shame. Shame, then, is what first separated human animals from their mere “natural or sensible being [natürlichen und sinnlichen Sein]”. Non-­human animals, in contrast, are “without shame [schamlos]” (EL §24A2). 164  Humans “cannot give up thinking [Denken]. There is thinking in our perception [Empfindung], in our cognition [Kenntnis] and our intellect [Erkenntnis], in our drives [Trieben] and our volition [Willen]” (PH 10/20). The non-­human animal, in contrast, “has no will” because it has no thought; “it does not represent [vorstellt] how it desires [begeht]” (PR §4A). 165  As Hegel writes in PR, the “will [Wille] without freedom is an empty word” (§4A). The “characteristic trait” of the will is freedom (EG §469). 166  The non-­human animal is effectively a “thing [Sache]”. This is because it “has no end in itself [Selbstzweck] and is not infinite self-­reference [unendliche Beziehung ihrer auf sich selbst], but [is] something external to itself [sich selbst ein Äußerliches]” (PR §44A). A “thing” “has no subjectivity” and hence no will or “soul [Seele]” (PR §42A). See also EG §381A.

122  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit We should bear in mind, in addition, that Hegel warns us not to treat thought and the will as “two capacities or faculties [zwei Vermögen]” (PR §4A). The will as he defines it is not a faculty separate from that of thought; it is more accurately described as a “mode” or “manner [Weise]” of thought. This point is explicit in the following Addition from the Philosophy of Right: [O]ne should not imagine that the human thinks on the one hand and wills on the other, that he has thought in one pocket and the will in another; this would be an empty idea [leere Vorstellung]. The difference between thinking and willing is simply the difference between the theoretical and practical comportments [Verhalten]. They are not two faculties [Vermögen]; rather, the will is a special manner [Weise] of thinking. It is thought translating itself into being [sich übersetzend ins Dasein]; thought as the drive [Trieb] to give itself being.  (PR §4A)

The main message of the above passage is that the will is thought expressing itself in acts of reflection or contemplation as well as action. The will strives to manifest or objectify itself in actual behaviors, and Hegel has much to say about how its objectifications show up in our social interactions and institutions.167 Hegel implies in this passage that thought in its mode as will is a “drive [Trieb]”, namely the drive or urge to give itself existence [Dasein].168 Drives and urges come in various forms. As we saw, Hegel asserts that even plants may be said to have drives in that they possess the power to produce change and thereby (to some degree) overcome externality. In humans, we can distinguish between “bare [bloß]” animal drives or desires and those that, because mediated by thought, separate us from other creatures (PH 31/44). Once we raise ourselves “above the singleness of sensation to the universality of thought”, our desire is elevated to the activity of willing (EG §381A). Once we have progressed to this stage and thereby significantly distinguished ourselves from nature, our thinking permeates not just our drives and our will, but even our “perception [Empfindung]” (PH 10/20). Two points are worth dwelling on from the above discussion. The first is that the capacities that significantly distinguish us from other animal natures are for Hegel capacities of our special animal nature. We have a will and therefore also freedom thanks to our faculty of thought. ‘Lower’ animals cannot think, although they possess powers that are progenitors of thought. As Hegel writes, the “thought-­ induced phenomenon of consciousness”, appeared “originally [zunächst]” as “feeling, intuition, representation [Gefühle, Anschauung, Vorstellung]” (EL §2). Hegel is committed to the assumption, then, that our power of thought is rooted in the kind of feelings and intuitions of which at least some non-­human animals are 167  As Hegel remarks in PR §47, a person can put her will not just into things and into her body; she can also transform her “life” (which includes soul or spirit). 168  “As will, Spirit steps into actuality” (EG §469).

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  123 capable. The point worth underscoring is that he does not hold that we need to go outside nature to account for the extraordinary capacity that distinguishes us from other animals. It is mere “prejudice”, he says, to treat “feeling [Gefühl] and thought [Denken]” as wholly “opposed [entgegengesetz]” and “hostile [feindselig]” forces (EL §2). Our capacity for thought is no less anchored in our animal nature than our capacities for sight and touch. To put this point differently, Hegel’s account of the will or freedom does not attribute to us far-­reaching ‘mind over matter’ powers in the following respect: he believes we can accurately account for the unique features of our freedom without having to endorse either the metaphysical reality of a non-­natural causal power or even the idea of such a power. Unlike Kant, Hegel’s conception of freedom is not an invention of pure reason, postulated as a means of providing for the possibility of moral agency or imputability. Hegel does not rely on the premise that we have (or should be conceived of as having) two distinct natures: an animal nature responsible for our empirically grounded desires and passions, on the one hand, and an “intelligible” or “transcendental” nature that affords us extraordinary causal powers, on the other.169 Instead, his reflections on our various capacities of desire, thought, and will, emphasize our close ties to other animal natures. We are unique animals, thanks to our power to abstract; but—­and this is the crucial point—­our powers of abstraction, reasoning, and willing, no less than our capacity for desire, are features of our animality. In short, Hegel denies that the transition from “nature to Geist” is a transition to an “out-­and-­out other [durchaus anderem]” (EG §381A).170 Second, although our freedom derives from our animal capacities and thus emerges out of nature, our freedom is not just nature, according to Hegel. Hegel in other words allows for a significant or non-­trivial distinction between freedom and nature. Human freedom is not just nature, because it is more than an expression of mere instinct. Our freedom gives us the power to ‘triumph over externality’ in a way that other living creatures cannot. Unlike other animals, we can rise above the “singleness of sensation to the universality of thought” (EG §381A). There is, then, something special about us. Thanks to our power of thought and 169  In humans, there is “only one reason, in feeling, volition, and thought” (EG §471). Hegel criticizes the logic of the understanding [Verstand] in this context for its “arbitrary [willkürlich]” separation of these faculties. For a recent critique of the view that the work of our faculty of reason is entirely separate from and gets ‘added’ to the work of perception and desire, see Matthew Boyle, “Additive Theories of Rationality: A Critique”, European Journal of Philosophy 24, no. 3 (2016): 527–555. See also Thomas Khurana’s careful analysis of how Hegelian Spirit is “second nature” without being reducible to nature, in Das Leben der Freiheit. Form und Wirklichkeit der Autonomie (Berlin: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2017). Khurana offers a far more thorough treatment than I have provided here of the self-­production of Spirit out of nature (see especially Zweiter Teil, Kapitel IV). 170  This may be at least part of what Hegel has in mind when he says that Spirit has nature as its “proximate [nächsten] presupposition” (EG §381A). As Pinkard observes in Does History Make Sense?, there is for Hegel a “kind of continuum at work in the passages from life to animal life to human life”, 10. This is a central thesis of Khurana’s discussion as well, in Das Leben der Freiheit.

124  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit the freedom it affords us, we can produce changes, Hegel says, that contain something genuinely new.171

5.2  Freedom: Achieved versus Given One rather obvious respect in which Hegel considers our freedom to be ­conditioned or limited, as we just saw, is that it is a freedom that is in and of nature, and as such compatible with nature. That is, Hegelian freedom cannot accurately be described as a non-­natural, extra-­temporal causal capacity. Hegel’s view of how it is possible for us to make our own fate, then, does not rest on a commitment to the reality of such a capacity; he resists attributing to us ‘mind over matter’ powers of that kind. As I just suggested, Hegel has doubts about the very idea of such a power. He does not follow Kant in invoking the idea as a postulate or assumption with which to ground an account of human agency. For reasons we will consider in Chapter 6, he raises questions about the idea’s very cogency. In this section, I consider a further respect in which Hegel takes our freedom to be limited. It is limited not just because it is a power rooted in our nature as creatures of this empirical world. It is limited, in addition, with respect to what I have been referring to as its content, that is, with respect to its concepts and laws. For Hegel, our capacity for freedom does not come equipped with a determinate content that merely needs to await the right conditions for its activation or expression. Except in some minimal sense that I will specify below, there are, in his view, no preset concepts and laws that are given either by our natural proclivities or sympathies, by an all-­powerful deity, or by a purportedly “pure” reason. Rather than given, the content of human freedom must be acquired. That acquisition, according to Hegel, does not occur in a vacuum. As I will argue, he awards contingent factors a role to play in the generation of freedom’s content. The content of our freedom therefore depends on conditions not wholly within our control.172 I begin by reviewing Hegel’s objections to various versions of the thesis that asserts what I will refer to as the givenness of freedom. These objections will guide us, in section 5.3, in piecing together an interpretation of his positive alternative. In reviewing Hegel’s attack on the thesis, we need to proceed carefully, since he does not entirely deny that there is something given about our freedom’s nature. He awards our freedom enough of a given nature, at least, to distinguish it from

171  In ‘mere’ nature (that is, nature without Spirit), there are “changes [Veränderungen]” but nonetheless “nothing new under the sun” (PH 57/74). My work in this section has benefitted from Chapters 2 and 3 of Nicolás García Mills’s dissertation, Hegel’s Ethical Naturalism, defended in 2019, University of Illinois at Chicago. 172  As I noted in my Introduction, Hegel therefore paves the way for Feuerbach, Marx, Nietzsche, Freud, and a host of others who raise skeptical doubts about overblown estimations of reason’s autonomy or sovereignty.

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  125 other capacities. As we saw, human freedom is for Hegel a special form of self-­ motion. In essence, it is animal desire combined with a capacity for abstraction or thought. At the same time, however, freedom on his account is an achievement. Some of its nature is given and some of it is not. A passage from §57 of the “Abstract Right” chapter of the Philosophy of Right provides a first piece of evidence that Hegel rejects the thesis of the givenness of freedom. There, he considers two stances that we might adopt regarding the justifiability of slavery. Both stances are “formal” and “one-­sided”, and as such unsatisfactory, on his analysis. The first approach sets out to justify slavery, and it does so by denying that human nature has a given freedom. This approach argues from the premise that we are wholly “natural beings [Naturwesen]” and as such incapable of freedom, to the conclusion that we may justifiably be treated as slaves. The second approach is defended by those who oppose slavery. Those defending this position argue that slavery is “absolutely contrary to right” because human nature is “in itself [an sich]” free, or “what is the same”, free “by nature [von Natur]”. According to this second position, slavery contradicts the very “concept of the human being as spirit”. Hegel tells us that, taken together, these two approaches constitute an “antinomy”. They do so, not merely because both cannot be true, but also because each is an instance of “formal thinking” that, in his words, “asserts the two moments of an idea in separation from each other”. In light of what we know so far about Hegel’s account of human nature, we can easily supply his reasons for objecting to the first argument. The thesis that we may justifiably be treated as slaves because we are by nature incapable of freedom, ignores what he takes to be distinctive about the kind of creatures that we are. The thesis ignores the fact that we are governed not just by instinct but are in addition uniquely capable of the power of thought and therefore also freedom. For Hegel, any argument that rests on a denial of the reality of human freedom must be rejected.173 More interesting for our purposes, however, is Hegel’s complaint about the ­second thesis which asserts that we possess freedom “by nature”, that is, “in itself ”, and for this reason should not be treated as slaves. For reasons that are initially mysterious, he considers this particular argument just as “formal” and “one-­sided” as the first. Just like the first, this argument offends against the position he supports, namely that: The free spirit [freie Geist] consists precisely in not having its being as mere ­concept or in itself [als bloße Begriff oder an sich zu sein], but in overcoming this

173  Unfortunately, Hegel did not unconditionally reject the institution of slavery. He granted it an educational function in preparing colonized individuals for living in freedom. See Alison Stone, “Hegel and Colonialism”, Hegel Bulletin 41, no. 2 (2020): 247–270.

126  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit formal phase of its being and hence also of its immediate natural existence, and in giving itself an existence as wholly its own and free.  (PR §57)

As this passage suggests, the thesis Hegel endorses is that the free spirit is not free “in itself ” but (somehow) “gives itself an existence”. We do not yet know what it means for a free spirit to overcome its “formal phase” and give itself existence, but these remarks indicate that Hegel rejects at least some version of the thesis of the givenness of freedom. But what version, exactly? It is difficult to determine precisely what Hegel finds problematic about the proposal that the free spirit is free “in itself ” or “by nature”. Perhaps his message is that there can be no freedom in nature, that is, in a natural condition or state of nature. In various texts, he indeed casts doubt on the assumption that human animals enjoy freedom in such a state. In the Philosophy of Right, he portrays the state of nature as a state of unfreedom (PR §193). In his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, he remarks that the “freedom of nature is nothing real; for the state is the first realization of freedom” (LHP III 402/VGP III 307). Likewise, in the Introduction to his Philosophy of History, he asserts that freedom “does not exist as an original and natural state”; it must be “achieved and won through an endless process involving the discipline of knowledge and will” (PH 43/58f.). Finally, there is this passage from ¶415 of his Heidelberg Encyclopaedia of 1817/18: A natural condition is . . . a condition of violence and injustice, of which nothing truer may be said than that one ought to depart from it. Society, by contrast, is the only condition in which the law has reality; what is to be limited and sacrificed are precisely the caprice and violence of the state of nature.

Note that none of these passages forces upon us the implication that Hegel denies that nature has given us freedom as a capacity. As we established in section 5.1, he holds that we come into existence with special faculties or powers, including the power that uniquely distinguishes us from other beings and is responsible for our freedom, namely the power of thought or abstraction. Nonetheless, Hegel clearly finds something objectionable in the thesis that we are “by nature free” or free “in itself [an sich]”. As we just saw, he dismisses this thesis as “one-­sided” and “formal”. We can plausibly take his point to be that, in a natural condition, our naturally given capacity for freedom is not yet properly activated or developed. In a state of nature, our freedom either does not yet yield concepts and laws or does not yield the right kind of concepts and laws. Our freedom in a state of nature either lacks content altogether or lacks the right kind of content. But even if this reading is on track, ambiguities remain. According to one line of interpretation, Hegel’s critique of the givenness of freedom amounts to this: “in itself ” or “by nature”, our freedom has a pregiven determinate content, but it is a

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  127 content that at first is not yet activated or expressed, nor is it yet an object of ­consciousness. Our freedom must be achieved because, in a state of nature, we do not have available the conditions necessary for the full realization or expression of its laws and concepts. Nature (or God) gives us the capacity for freedom as well as its concepts and laws, but the latter can only be realized and made objects of conscious awareness if certain social arrangements are in place. The full development and awareness of our freedom ultimately requires a certain kind of state, a state that is “ethical”. This line interpretation essentially reprises the Kantian account we considered in Chapter 1. As we saw, Kant grants that nature (or God) gives us freedom as a  capacity; he in addition argues that our freedom must in some respect be achieved. Our freedom’s realization depends upon a variety of conditions, including conditions not available in natural condition. Kant writes in his “Idea of a University History” essay that we are only truly free when we allow ourselves to be governed by laws of a state that is grounded on the right kind of constitution, one that rational agents can recognize as legitimate. The full flourishing of human freedom moreover requires a “perfect civic constitution”, one that effectively regulates international relations (8:24). Beginning in section  5.3, I argue that Hegel’s message that freedom must be “achieved” and “give itself existence” does not, however, reduce to the claim that, in order to realize or objectify a given capacity, we must rely on resources unavailable to us in a natural condition. Hegel endorses this Kantian thesis, but he has something further in mind as well. He maintains in addition that although nature gives us freedom as a capacity, we do not come into existence with a fully determinate but so far undeveloped or latent set of concepts and laws. Hegel’s point is not that, thanks to either pure reason or natural sympathy, we are born with a fixed moral compass but require certain conditions to be in place for its activation and expression. As I will argue, our given capacity for freedom instead acquires a determinate content, for Hegel. It does so in its long journey from a natural condition to the “ethical” state (that is, to a condition Hegel claims has been achieved in modern “ethical life [Sittlichkeit]”). Crucially, that content develops over the course of world history.174 174  Taking Robert Pippin as his target, John McDowell resists the suggestion that reason’s or Geist’s development is a socio-­historical “achievement”. In “Why Does it Matter to Hegel that Geist has a History?”, in Hegel on Philosophy in History, eds R. Zuckert and J. Kreines (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 18, 21. McDowell’s argument rests on accurately attributing to Hegel the assumption that our capacities for thought and freedom are given by nature rather than achieved. (Pippin, by the way, does not suggest otherwise; he notes that the very idea that we achieve agency presupposes that we are capable of agency, and that this capacity is not itself achieved. See his Introduction to Hegel’s Practical Philosophy: Rational Agency as Ethical Life (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 17). McDowell, however, argues that conceptual development in Hegel’s Logic is not at all historical, and that Spirit’s development in the PhG only becomes historical when the progressions occur not just in our “understanding” (that is, in how “subjectivity relates to its object”) but when the objects under investigation are the “transitions from one shape of the world to another”, 30.

128  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

5.3  Generating Freedom’s Content It may be useful at this point to recall the main objectives of this chapter. My principal aim is to explain Hegel’s strategy for replacing a ‘mind over matter’ stoicism with the thesis that although human freedom is a transformative force, it is nonetheless also significantly limited or conditioned. In sections  5.1 and  5.2, I suggested two respects in which this is so, for Hegel. First, our freedom is limited in that it is not a power to initiate a causal series from a standpoint outside time; it is a freedom that has its basis in (rather than beyond) nature. Second, our freedom is limited because its content (its concepts and laws) is not pregiven but must instead be achieved or acquired.175 In section 5.2, we reviewed passages in which Hegel attacks the thesis of the givenness of freedom. We saw there that he does not deny that freedom is given to us as a capacity. What he denies, rather, is a certain understanding of how our freedom derives its content. I have suggested that Hegel rejects the thesis of the givenness of freedom insofar as it is taken to imply that we come into existence with a ready-­made set of concepts and laws, which require certain conditions merely for their activation and expression. He proposes instead that our given capacity for freedom acquires a determinate content; it does so in the course of its development. Various factors are responsible for that development, factors that include our choices as well as contingencies beyond our control. Our fate or freedom, for Hegel, is therefore to some extent shaped by those contingencies.176 But what evidence can we cite in favor of this latter proposal about the origin of our freedom’s content? For textual support, we can turn to Hegel’s history of human freedom as represented, for example, in his Philosophy of History or Philosophy of Right. It is not necessary to review his entire history of human freedom to make the case that he holds that the content of freedom is acquired rather than given in the manner I just suggested. It will suffice to concentrate our attention on a single piece of the narrative—­a single developmental stage. This will allow us to highlight the kind of factors Hegel takes to be responsible for how a people or culture comes to reject one idea of freedom and replace it with another, that is, for how it comes to think of its freedom and its right in a new way. One piece of the story is all we need in order to foreground the mechanics of the developmental process.

McDowell seems to imply by this that a development is only properly historical if its object is manifested in history. But one can affirm the assumption that our capacities for thought and freedom are not historical achievements without having to deny thatthe products of these capacities are shaped by our real engagements in historical time (and are in this respect socio-­historical achievements). 175  As for how I am using the term “content”, see below note 189. 176  This, I take it, is what Geoffrey  R.  G.  Mure is driving at when he writes that “[p]hilosophic thinking [for Hegel] is the conquest of contingency and finitude, and it is itself partly moulded by the course of the struggle”. In An Introduction to Hegel (London: Oxford University Press, 1940), 111.

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  129 I just referred to “factors” responsible for generating freedom’s content. It is worth emphasizing that the approach Hegel takes in narrating the development of freedom or Spirit is not causal in a natural scientific sense. That is, his project is not to explain how external factors stimulate neurons in the brain that then occasion new thoughts and/or behaviors. Although Hegel of course grants that human beings are moved by physical forces, his task in the context of his philosophy of Spirit is to relay the ideational responses of thinking or spirited beings, responses triggered by a complicated array of forces (social and intellectual as well as physical). We learn that, over time, there has been progress in Spirit’s self-­understanding, in how it thinks about its desires and aims, in how it relates itself to nature and to other spirited beings, and in what it values. This progress is better described as conceptual than as causal in the natural scientific sense.177 I am going to focus on the earliest stages of this story and begin by posing the following questions: How does a rational animal come to recognize the limitations of its freedom in a condition where there are no impartial laws or magistrates, and in which it therefore has to rely on a system of private justice or revenge (PR §102)? How does it arrive at the realization that it is better off accepting constraints on its natural freedom and submitting to the authority of a state? What accounts, too, for changes in how it understands the very nature of its freedom? Hegel’s answer to these questions is illuminated in various texts, especially in the Philosophy of Right which begins with a discussion of a system of right that is highly inadequate or “abstract”. In what follows, I isolate some of the factors Hegel takes to be responsible for progress at this early stage in the development of our freedom. Again, my main objective is to give reasons for attributing the following two assumptions to Hegel: (i) the content of our freedom is acquired versus given; (ii) contingent factors are in part responsible for generating that content.178 As we know, Hegel holds that nature endows us with the special capacity of thought or abstraction and the freedom that power affords. This special capacity is responsible for the fact that we enjoy a freedom and self-­awareness of which other animals are incapable. The human animal is uniquely “aware of its subjectivity” (PR §35A). As animals, we are of course compelled by nature to seek the satisfaction of our basic needs and desires. As social animals, we must sometimes satisfy the need for survival by appropriating a resource and thereby making that resource unavailable to others (PR §46). Effective appropriation requires more than merely the thought that one is entitled to things; it requires communicating

177  Hegel describes the history of philosophy in general as the history of the “discovery of thoughts about the Absolute [Entdeckung der Gedanken über das Absolute]” (EL Preface 10/22). 178  The focus of my attention here is the Philosophy of Right, but Hegel’s Phenomenology would have served my purposes equally well. Allen Speight relies principally on the Phenomenology to support his insightful treatment of Hegel’s account of how human agency has developed (and may be thought of as having a narrative structure, one that depends in large part on contingent factors). See his Hegel, Literature and the Problem of Agency (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001).

130  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit that thought and getting that thought recognized.179 Appropriation therefore requires a means of signaling or designating ownership, for instance, by ­physically seizing something, by drawing a boundary around it, or by regulating its use by entering into agreements or contracts with other interested parties (PR §§46, 54–58). In designating something as its own in these ways, the human animal objectifies its will; it gives its will “existence [Dasein]”, as Hegel says (PR §§11, 57).180 To return to our initial question: Why would a will that conceives of itself as the beneficiary of freedom and rights by nature, come to appreciate that its interests would be better served if it agreed to allow its actions to be regulated by laws and magistrates of a state? Hegel’s answer in the Abstract Right chapter of the Philosophy of Right is, in a word, conflict. He gives us an essentially Hobbesian depiction of instabilities that necessarily plague the natural condition.181 These instabilities are easiest to appreciate if we foreground what is lacking in the natural condition. First, the state of nature lacks institutions of an ethical state. It lacks, for instance, impartial courts and judges, as well as effective means of implementing and enforcing impartial laws. Conflicts that arise in a state of nature must therefore be privately resolved; moreover, and as Hobbes pointed out, they may be resolved by any means, including violence. Second, agents in a natural condition lack certain mental states. The particular will in the state of nature is chiefly motivated by the desire to satisfy its own needs and interests. It thinks of itself as having a natural right to things, and it does not yet appreciate that its right to things is based on a feature of itself that it shares with other thinking natures. The particular will does not initially recognize those other beings as significantly similar to itself and therefore as bearers of right. Because it so far ignores what Hegel refers to as the universal aspect of itself, the particular will does not care about the rightful claims of other wills. As he puts the point, the particular will at this stage does not yet “will the universal as such” (PR §103).182 The overall poverty or emptiness of the idea of freedom in a natural condition is revealed in the failure of this “abstract” system of natural right and freedom to sustain itself. In a situation in which self-­interested wills are relatively equal physically and psychologically, and in which there is no law and order (because there 179 The mere “idea [Vorstellung]” that something should be mine is not enough to “constitute ­property” (PR §51A). 180  Property is the means whereby the will first “becomes objective” (PR §46). 181  It is worth noting that Hegel expresses doubts about the historical accuracy of descriptions of the state of nature (see my remarks below in note 183). It would be a mistake, too, to interpret the Abstract Right chapter as his own effort to get the historical record straight. Abstract right, on his account, is (unsurprisingly) an abstraction; as such, it is “untrue” (PR §32A). What is true, for Hegel, is that the state of nature abstraction has had a powerful hold on how we have imagined our nature in absence of a well-­functioning state. 182  From the particular will’s point of view, it is the bearer of right, and “someone else has the corresponding duty” (PR §155; my emphasis). The will at this stage does not care about right “as right” (PR §99).

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  131 is no all-­powerful state or sovereign to keep the peace, and no system of impartial and effectively enforced laws), all that governs is a system of private justice, a ­system in which each will is free to seek the satisfaction of its own ends and by any means. As Hobbes observed, this natural condition is one of perpetual insecurity and fear, a “war of all against all”. The state of nature is not, then, a condition of freedom—­more precisely, it is not a condition of a fully satisfactory form of freedom; rather, as Hegel writes in the Philosophy of Right, it is a “condition governed by force [Zustand der Gewalt]” (PR §§93, 94, 194).183 What propels the movement forward is conflict; and it is in the process of this forward movement, I want to suggest, that new content gets generated. We can defend this latter claim without reviewing Hegel’s entire history of freedom; it will suffice to extract a few lessons from the brief story I just sketched. One content that emerges in the course of the development is a new idea of freedom (and with it, a new idea of right). Initially, the particular will understands its freedom as the freedom to do what it wants in pursuit of its private purposes. Nature endows it with the capacity to put its will into things and designate them its own. This is a freedom from external authority or interference, as well as a freedom to privately make and administer law, and to judge what is right. The new idea of freedom, in contrast, requires the recognition of the need to submit to authority. Ultimately, for Hegel, this authority is more Rousseauian or Kantian than Hobbesian in character. As he tells the story, Spirit in the modern world demands that its interests be reflected in right. It finds its interests reflected in right, however, only if it experiences right not as an “external” absolute power (as proposed by Hobbes), but as somehow deriving from itself. The authority to

183  As he puts the point in ¶415 of the Heidelberg Encyclopaedia, the natural condition is one of “violence and injustice, of which nothing truer may be said than that one ought to depart from it”. Hegel clearly dismisses the view that we are free “by nature” insofar as this is taken to mean that we enjoy freedom (worthy of the name) in a natural condition or state of nature. He in other words denies that we can be truly free in a natural condition outside of or prior to a state. He provides various ­reasons for rejecting this thesis. For one thing, he doubts the historical authenticity of standard representations of human nature in a state of nature. In his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, for  example, he calls into question the “biblical account” of a people in a “natural condition [Naturzustandes]” who possessed “pure knowledge of God and nature”. This thesis—­including the claim that God is supposed to have spoken Hebrew with Adam—­is put forward as based on “historical fact”, he says, but it is in truth “merely an assumption made in the twilight of theorizing reflection” (PH 61/78f.). Hegel warns us against subscribing to the “nebulous image” of the “noble savage”, an image that in his view lacks “historical justification” (PH 43/58). In general, he holds that the idea that we have of human freedom in a natural condition is a romantic idealization. He argues in addition that our idea of freedom in the state of nature has harmful implications for how we understand the role of the state. Those (such as Rousseau) who suggest that we enjoy our greatest freedom in the natural condition, tend to see the state as nothing more than an inconvenience (even if a necessary one). They fail to appreciate that the state enables (rather than merely limits) our freedom. (Hegel attributes to Rousseau the view that our freedom is “relinquished [aufgegeben]” in the state in LHP III 401/VGP III 307.) Against such romanticized visions, Hegel describes the natural condition in more Hobbesian terms, as a condition of unfreedom (PR §193). In his estimation, then, those who suppose that we are free in a natural condition suffer from a large dose of naïveté.

132  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit which modern Spirit submits in expressing its freedom, then, is ultimately a ­system of laws that Spirit gives itself.184 Accompanying this more adequate idea of freedom and of right is a new self-­ conception as well as new motivations for action. The particular will is aware of itself, now, not just as a bearer of right but also as the author of right.185 It is motivated to care about right because it has come to appreciate that right derives from an essential part of itself, a part of itself it has in common with other thinking creatures. The particular will no longer knows itself merely as preoccupied with the satisfaction of its own desires; it is now capable of being moved by the idea that all persons are bearers of rights and are entitled to have those rights respected. In addition, the particular will is increasingly aware of the extent to which it is not the master of its own fate but derives some of its nature (including some of its needs and desires) from its culture and relations to others.

5.4  Contingency in the Course of Human History My purpose in reviewing Hegel’s portrayal of these early stages in the history of modern freedom has been to highlight one respect in which he considers our freedom to be limited. It is limited not just because it is a freedom incapable of transcending nature; it is limited, as well, because its content is acquired rather than pre-­established or given. As Spirit develops, new content comes to be in the form of ideas of the nature of its freedom and its right; new content comes to be, furthermore, in that Spirit understands its needs and desires differently than before. Moreover, the new content emerges not spontaneously but in response to conflict. Conflict in turn results from Spirit’s having to cope with various factors and forces, not the least of which are its physical and psychological needs, its basic egoism, as well as a sometimes hostile environment in which it must compete for resources with others of its kind. It has not been my objective here to assess the accuracy of Hegel’s depiction of early stages in the system of right, including his assumptions about human ­psychology. Rather, my purpose has been to defend the suggestion that he opposes a certain thesis about the givenness of our freedom. As I noted in the previous section, his attack on the thesis is compatible with his recognition that 184  According to what Hegel refers to as the “the right of the subjective will”, in the Morality section of the Philosophy of Right, “the will can recognize something to be something only in so far as that thing is its own” (§107; see also §§110A, 132). Hegel’s references to Kant in the Morality section are explicit in the “Good and Conscience” subsection. As for Rousseau, he writes later in the work that, “it was the achievement of Rousseau to put forward the will as the principle of the state” (§258). 185  As a bearer of right, the will is a “person”, in Hegel’s technical sense. “Personality [Persönlichkeit] contains in general the capacity for right” (PR §36; see also §§40, 44). At a higher level, however, the will in addition is conscious of itself as “subject [Subjekt]”; it “recognizes [anerkannt]” (as right) only that which is “its own [Seinige]” (PR §107).

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  133 something is given. Freedom is given as a capacity, a capacity that derives from our natural ability to stand back and reflect on our desires, to make them objects of consciousness. Hegel grants, even, that more than this is given. The very fact that ideas of freedom get generated implies that those ideas were originally given as possible. The fact, for example, that at some point in human history Spirit came to conceive of its freedom as compatible with a certain kind of submission to authority, implies that this new idea was implicitly (or as Hegel says, “an sich”) present at the start. It was present as a logically possible determination or specification of an originally vague and abstract idea.186 On the interpretation I am defending, Hegel acknowledges these forms of givenness but denies that the content of our freedom is originally fully fixed and determinate. Although the emergence in human history of various ideas of freedom implies that those ideas were first present as possible, Hegel does not hold (with Kant, for instance) that human reason is originally equipped with determinate practical concepts and laws—­concepts and laws of which we are not initially aware but of which we become aware when the right conditions are in place.187 And as I suggested back in Chapter  2, although Hegel asserts that “there is a divine Providence presiding over the events of the world” (PH 13/22, 15f./25, 19/29), this does not imply for him (as it does for Kant) that human history unfolds according to a preset blueprint or “secret plan [verborgener Plan]”.188 It is difficult to find passages that unambiguously support the interpretation I have just sketched, but consider this revealing Addition from Hegel’s Encyclopaedia: [A] plant develops from its germ: the germ already contains the whole plant within itself, but in an ideal way, so that we must not envisage its development as 186  World history begins with its “universal goal: the fulfillment of the concept of Spirit—­still only implicit (an sich), that is, as nature” (PH 27/39). 187  In his Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals (4:404), Kant suggests that we come into the world equipped with a moral “compass [Kompasse]”. Certain conditions are required, however, for our reason to become “attentive to its own principle”. Kant mentions in this passage the slave boy of Plato’s Meno who recollects his innate knowledge with the help of Socrates’ probing questions. Kant has more to say about this topic in the “Doctrine of Method” section of the CPrR. Common human reason, he writes there, has long known the answer to the question, “What is pure morality?”. It knows the answer to this question just as it knows the difference between the right and left hand (5:155). These passages suggest that Kant was a straightforward innatist, but there are different versions of innatism. As Phillip Sloan has pointed out, Kant’s own views on the matter evolved (in the direction of an even weaker form of preformationism). See Sloan’s “Preforming the Categories: Eighteenth Century Generation Theory and the Biological Roots of Kant’s A Priori” in Journal of the History of Philosophy 40, no. 2 (2002): 229–253. Further recent informative discussions include Huaping Lu-­Adler’s “Epigenesis of Pure Reason and the Source of Pure Cognitions: How Kant is No Nativist about Logical Cognition”, in Rethinking Kant, eds P.  Muchnik and O.  Thorndike (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholarly Publishing, 2018), vol. 5, 35–70, and Ameriks (2009). 188  See the 8th Thesis of Kant’s “Idea of a Universal History”. Mark Alznauer seems to me on target, then, in challenging the view (that he attributes to John McDowell) that the “development we see in the Phenomenology is no transformation in consciousness, but only consciousness coming to understand what it necessarily was all along”. In “Rival Versions of Objective Spirit”, Hegel Bulletin 37, no. 2 (Autumn/Winter 2016), 217.

134  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit if the various parts of the plant . . . we already present in the germ realiter, though only in very minute form. This is the so-­called Chinese box hypothesis [Einschachtelungshypotheses], the defect of which is that what is present initially only in an ideal way is regarded as already existent. What is correct in this course of its process, however, is just that the Concept [Begriff ] remains at home with itself [bei sich selbst bleibt] in the course of its process, and that the process does not posit anything new as regards content [Inhalt], but only brings forth an alteration of form [Formveränderung]. This nature of the Concept, which shows itself in its process to be a development of itself, is what people have in view when they speak of the ideas that are innate in man, or when they say, as Plato himself did, that all learning is merely recollection [Erinnerung]; but, all the same, ‘recollection’ should not be understood to mean that whatever constitutes the content of a mind that is educated by instruction was already present [vorher schon . . .wäre vorhanden gewesen] in that mind previously in its determinate unfolding.  (EL §161A; my emphasis)

Of course, this passage is an Addition and, as such, a compilation of student notes that cannot be assumed to exactly reproduce Hegel’s words. Hegel is represented as granting that we are warranted in asserting that the germ or seed of a plant “already contains the whole plant”, but only if we do not take this assertion to  imply that all the stages and shapes of the plant’s development are “present [existierend]” in the plant at the start. In identifying any development (whether in a plant or in the idea of freedom or in what is referred to here as the “Concept [Begriff]”), we necessarily presuppose that something stays the same; the development is a development in or of some one thing. Development occurs, but it occurs in the “form” of that thing. Crucially, however, Hegel is taken to warn us not to suppose that new or ‘higher’ forms are “already present” in ‘lower’ forms. We should not think of the appearance of a new form, then, on analogy with the “recollection [Erinnerung]” of a previously existing one.189 Hegel conveys a similar message in a passage from his Lectures on the Philosophy of History: Spirit is the result of its own activity; its activity is the transcending of what is immediately there, by negating it and returning into itself. We can compare it 189  Note Hegel’s remark, adopting Aristotelean terminology, that it is the “form [Form]” of the plant that develops, while its “content [Inhalt]” stays the same. Up to this point in this work, I have been exploring Hegel’s views about the developing “content” (that is, the developing concepts and laws) of thought and freedom. Although my use of these terms differs from Hegel’s in this passage from EL, it is consistent with his usage in other contexts. See, for example, his mention of Spirit’s “necessary developing content [Inhalt]” in EG §379A. In EL §43A, he characterizes the Kantian categories as indeterminate or lacking in “Inhalt”. Later, in §133A, he indeed calls into question the common view that “Inhalt” refers to what is essential and self-­sufficient, and “Form” refers to what is inessential. Hegel has much to say in these remarks about various ways in which we might interpret the form/content distinction.

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  135 with the seed of a plant: the plant begins with the seed, but the seed is also the result of the plant’s entire life.  (PH 82/104)

As Hegel says here, the “seed” is a “result [Resultat]”. We can plausibly take this remark to imply that, in the process of development, the seed takes on or acquires properties (or borrowing his language from EL §161A, it takes on a “form”). Clearly, the plant “begins with the seed”, and the seed is not entirely indeterminate. The seed places some constraints on the development; the seed ensures, at least, that if the organism develops at all, it will develop into a plant rather than into an animal. The seed limits the development, but the seed’s development is impacted by various factors, including factors external to the seed itself. External factors account for the respect in which the seed is, “also the result of the plant’s entire life”.190 If the interpretation I am proposing is accurate, then it has the following important implication: In rejecting the thesis of the givenness of freedom as I  have interpreted it, Hegel effectively commits himself to the assumption that human history could have taken a different course. This commitment might not seem obvious, especially in light of his repeated reminders of the “necessity” of Spirit’s development. But when we examined Hegel’s necessity claim back in Chapter 3, we could find no grounds for concluding that he means to rule out the possibility that human history could have taken a different path. As we saw, the story of human history is for Hegel necessary in the following three respects: First, it is necessary because the historian’s proper concern is to connect events that are essential rather than trivial, events that reveal not the “prosperity or misfortune of this or that single man”, but the journey of Spirit (PH 37/51). Second, the story is necessary because the aim of the historian is to describe only those connections she deems to be non-­accidental, connections united by an overarching law or principle. Finally, the story is necessary insofar as it qualifies as scientific. It is scientific if the historian has established the validity of the principles she employs in constructing her narrative. These respects in which Hegel regards Spirit’s journey to be necessary neither individually nor collectively require him to conclude that world history had to unfold exactly as it did. As a philosopher of history, Hegel looks back and weaves together a narrative describing freedom’s progress. He is confident he can explain how Spirit became aware of the inadequacies of a merely “abstract” form of 190  Hegel makes this point also in EL §124A: “Everything is initially ‘in itself ’, but this is not the end of the matter, and just as the seed, which is the plant-­in-­itself, is simply the activity of self-­development, so the thing generally also progresses beyond its mere in-­itself (understood as abstract reflection-­into-­ itself) to reveal itself to be also reflection-­into-­another, and as a result it has properties” (my emphasis). (For similar remarks, see also EG §378A.) Later in EL, Hegel describes the content of the Absolute as “nothing but the entire system”. “[T]he absolute idea is to be compared with the old man who utters the same religious statements as the child, but for whom they carry the significance of his whole life” (EL §237A).

136  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit freedom, and aware of the compatibility of its freedom with the submission to a certain kind of constraint. He can construct his explanatory story by identifying factors he deems essential to the story, factors that in his view warrant inclusion. But as I argued in Chapter 3, Hegel gives us no reason to attribute to him the further assumption that the conditions necessary to his narrative are themselves necessary in the sense of predetermined. In short, although any historical narrative must for Hegel be a story of necessary versus merely accidental or contingent connections, this does not imply that he holds that every event had to happen. It was not preordained that our nature has the psychological predispositions it has. Nature could have endowed us with more altruistic inclinations; we might never have needed to entertain the thought, then, that our freedom is most effectively realized when limited by laws of a state. Likewise, our natural condition might have been one of plenty rather than scarcity, and our bodies could have been fashioned with greater powers and fewer infirmities.191 The larger lesson I am suggesting we should extract from Hegel’s rejection of the thesis of the givenness of freedom is that it reveals the extent of his appreciation of the role of contingency in human history. Hegel cautions historians to attend to what is essential rather than contingent in the sense of trivial; at the same time, however, he warns of the dangers of ignoring contingency altogether. The science that endeavors to turn a blind eye to contingency, he says, risks becoming “an empty game and a strained pedantry [einer leeren Spielerei und eines steifen Pedantismus]” (EL §145A). Hegel’s sensitivity to the role of contingency shows up, too, in the approach he adopts in his reflections on freedom. Given that he aims to explicate or clarify that concept, his reflections can reasonably be characterized as employing a method of conceptual analysis. But Hegel performs his conceptual analysis of the idea of freedom not by turning his attention inward and inspecting a purportedly native mental content. His analysis invariably involves telling a developmental story, and he can only tell that story by attending to the concept’s history. Attending to the history of the concept of freedom requires him to consider factors that shape the concept’s development; and included among those factors are contingencies of the kind of we considered in section 5.3.

191  Much more could be said about the contingencies Hegel takes to have shaped the development culminating in modern freedom. In Does History Make Sense?, Pinkard describes, for example, Hegel’s treatment of the way in which the Thirty Years’ War left seventeenth-­century Germany fragmented into independent authorities, thereby paving the way for the development of the modern, centralized European state, 115. Technological advances such as the availability of gunpowder aided the transition from an aristocratic military ethos to the development of professional armies. In effecting the breakdown of feudal inequalities, these advances paved the way for the rise of new social statuses, new virtues, new “shapes of subjectivity”, 109, 115. These are just two of the many such examples Pinkard lays out in his rich study of Hegel’s philosophy of history.

Freedom ’ s Necessary Limits  137 To convey my message in plainer terms, Hegel does not argue that the ­ evelopment of the idea of freedom—­the development, as well, of Spirit itself—­ d occurs in a vacuum. Development describes a process whereby some potential is actualized, but for Hegel this actualization occurs not because a concept or a ­faculty unfolds or matures of its own accord. In his words, Spirit is “indeed [zwar]” “entangled [verwickelt]” in the “conditions of nature, internal and external” (PH 77/99).192 If we wish to understand the shape of its development, we have to take those conditions into account. We have to rely on more than introspection, then, and on more than our powers of conceptual analysis. Our story of the development of the idea of freedom requires in addition a skill for separating out essential from nonessential facts. Simply put, the philosopher of history needs to be a good historian.193

5.5 Conclusion My discussion in this chapter began with the proposal that Hegel avoids a f­ atalism that is blind in the sense of “external”. Hegelian fatalism is not external, I have argued, because it is compatible with the thesis that human natures are capable of freedom. Our freedom, moreover, is a genuinely transformative and creative power. It is a special capacity for self-­motion, one that is able to triumph over externality to a degree unrivaled by other forms of animal life. In addition, I argued that Hegel defends the view that our freedom is not just transformative but also limited in significant respects. On his account, ours is a freedom that originates in and is therefore bound to nature. Moreover, the content of our freedom is not set from the start; it is, rather, generated or achieved. Our freedom’s laws and concepts come into being in response to our interactions with various forces, including those we do not control and that are contingent in that respect. What we can conclude from these assumptions, then, is that Hegel’s unique version of fatalism awards contingency a role in the generation of our freedom’s content. It might be thought, however, that I assign contingency too great a role in Hegel’s philosophy of Spirit. Even if we grant that contingency plays the part I am claiming it does (such that world history, as he portrays it, could have unfolded differently), there remains the nagging worry that more work needs to be done to 192  Physical nature “impinges [eingreift] on world history” (PH 19/29). 193  The philosopher of history, then, cannot rely on thought alone but needs to do her empirical homework. Perhaps the point is better expressed as follows: she needs to revise her understanding of what thinking about her subject matter is or involves. Describing philosophy in general, Hegel observes in §5 of the Encyclopaedia that just as a shoemaker has to learn her trade by actual practice and study, so the philosopher should be expected to put in hours of “study, learning and effort”. Hegel implies here that we need to get beyond the “abstract” conception of thinking that reduces it to something akin to “immediate knowledge” or “intuition”.

138  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit sufficiently account for his ubiquitous references to history’s “necessity”. Perhaps my interpretation of Hegel’s concern with necessity is anodyne and omits something essential. After all, it could be that Hegel merely means to acknowledge that features of world history sometimes appear contingent to us, especially when we are ignorant of the ‘real’ forces moving history forward. Perhaps, too, the freedom he awards us is not genuinely transformative at all. Maybe what Hegel really intends to convince us is that our freedom seems transformative only because we lack access to a God’s eye vantage point. These are possible objections to my interpretation, and I address them beginning in Chapter 6.

6 Thought’s Temporality In the foregoing chapters, I presented evidence of Hegel’s sensitivity to the fact of contingency, evidence indicating that he grants contingency a role in generating our idea of freedom and in moving the progress of world history along. But in my conclusion to Chapter 5, I entertained the possibility that I have overlooked an important respect in which he considers the history of Spirit to be necessary. It might be thought that the evidence we have reviewed so far warrants us in concluding only that Hegel appreciates that there is much in human history that appears contingent to us. Perhaps he acknowledges the appearance of contingency but holds that all that happens in human history is in fact fated or necessary, in that it has been settled in advance by Providence. We may tell ourselves that accidents happen, but we do so only because we are ignorant of the ultimate causes or conditions of what happens. Although we may assume that contingency has a part to play in generating our idea of freedom and in determining the nature and progress of Spirit, we would think otherwise were we able to fully grasp the necessity behind the apparent contingency. This reading, according to which Hegel appreciates no more than the appearance of contingency, takes itself to provide a plausible explanation for his many references to the “necessity” or “fate” of history. It claims to make sense of his representation of human history as the “march of God in the world” (PH 16/26, 23/33, 39/53; PR §258A). It arguably captures his reasons for describing his philosophy of history as a “theodicy [Theodizee]”—a “justification of the ways of God” (PH 18/28). In the absence of a more satisfactory explanation of what he means by the “fate” of world history, the interpretation seems compelling. We can begin to see what is off the mark about this account of history’s necessity, however, once we appreciate the questionable assumptions it attributes to Hegel. First, it takes him to endorse the proposal that limitations in our cognitive powers block our access to a reality behind appearances; it suggests that, in his view, we are forever barred from insight into what Kant refers to as “nature’s secret plan”.194 Second, the interpretation presupposes that, although Hegel holds that our knowledge is finite or limited in this respect, he nevertheless considers himself able to draw those limits precisely and once and for all. He can draw those limits

194  See the 8th Thesis of Kant’s “Idea for a Universal History”.

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0007

140  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit precisely enough, at least, to conclude that what is beyond them is necessarily unavailable to our cognition. But repeatedly and in numerous texts, Hegel voices his impatience with those who tirelessly remind us of the limits of our knowledge and of our inability to grasp things as they are in themselves. He criticizes the Kantian effort to secure the objectivity of our knowledge, for instance, insofar as that effort rests on the assumption that there is an unbridgeable gap between the a priori forms we bring to our thinking and knowing, and a content wholly independent of those forms. He charges Kantian idealism with “subjectivity” precisely because it entitles us to claim no more than that our a priori contribution to experience conditions the possibility of knowledge for us. He has no patience with Kant’s insistence that we are unwarranted in asserting that our forms have validity for things as they are in themselves.195 Again, the line of interpretation I am challenging argues that Hegel acknowledges only the appearance of contingency. It proposes that, on his account, the contingencies we experience conceal a hidden necessity or fate, one that has been set in advance. From our earlier discussions, however, we can extract further reasons for calling this reading into question. Recall, for example, our review in Chapter 3 of the critical remarks Hegel directs at Anaxagoras. In his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, he takes Anaxgoras to task for assuming that the plan of Providence has to remain hidden from us. As we saw, Hegel singles this assumption out for attack because he wishes to draw our attention to a principal task of his own philosophy of history, which is to “recognize [erkennen] the ways of Providence” (PH 16/26; my emphasis). Recall, too, our discussion in Chapter 4 of  Hegel’s impatience with the “ancients’” treatment of necessity as “unrevealed [unenthüllte]” (EL §147A). He argues that the “modern” or “Christian” doctrine of fate is superior in this regard, because it commands us not just to love but also to know God. Its doctrine of revelation awards us the ability to “recognize” what God is, “so that He is no longer hidden and secret” (PH 17/27). In the present chapter, my main objective is to introduce additional reasons for taking Hegel’s sensitivity to contingency seriously—­reasons for supposing that he considers contingency to be something other than a veil concealing a pregiven but inscrutable necessity. To set up my argument, I review three central Hegelian assumptions that have been the focus of my attention in this study. I then suggest that we can only adequately account for Hegel’s commitment to each of them if

195  We find this passage in an Addition in EL, “According to the Kantian philosophy, the things that we know about are only appearances for us, and what they are in themselves remains for us an inaccessible beyond” (§45A). Kant’s idealism is identified as “subjective” in this passage and in §46. In §44, Hegel provocatively expresses his alternative point of view: “We must be quite surprised . . . to read so often that one does not know what the thing-­in-­itself is; for nothing is easier to know than this” (my emphasis).

Thought ’ s Temporality  141 we appreciate the extent to which he allows contingency a significant part to play in his system. The first of the three assumptions is what I will refer to as Hegel’s knowability thesis. This is the assumption we just reviewed: it implies that human cognizers can indeed grasp the ultimate purpose or fate of history. Leaving aside for the moment any effort to specify the precise kind of knowledge Hegel means to at­trib­ute to us, we can at least say with confidence (especially in light of our discussions in Chapters 1 and 4) that he seeks an alternative to the Kantian classification of history’s purpose as an unknowable idea of pure reason. For Hegel, the fate of history is not blind in the sense of unknowable.196 A second assumption I have attributed to Hegel throughout this study is that our fate is not blind in the sense of “external”. Hegel’s fatalism—­his argument for the “necessity” of world history—­is in other words compatible with a freedom that is significantly transformative. Hegel thus advances a freedom thesis. As we saw in Chapters 4 and 5, our freedom is not in his view a power to start a causal series spontaneously (that is, from a standpoint outside time). Nonetheless, it is a capacity of self-­motion that far surpasses the causal powers of other animals. Human thought and action are not governed just by instinct; thanks to our faculty of thought or reflection, we can produce ideas and actions that are genuinely new. The third Hegelian assumption is the realizability thesis. Hegel is persuaded that human freedom is more than a thought-­child of reason whose reality is confined to its practical efficacy in consoling us or giving us hope. He argues that we can demonstrate human freedom and its norms to be realizable—­somehow even fully realizable—­in this actual world. As he puts the point in his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, “Reason is not so powerless so as to arrive at nothing more than the ideal” (PH 12/21). Again, my proposal is that we can only adequately account for Hegel’s commitment to each of these three assumptions if we take him to hold that contingency is more than an illusion. This point is easiest to appreciate in the case of the freedom thesis. I argued in Chapter 5 that Hegel is convinced that the content of our freedom (that is, its ideas and laws) gets generated in the course of our interactions with various forces—­including forces over which we have no control. Some of the needs we seek to satisfy are given by nature; others arise in response to social and environmental conditions that likewise are not products of our choice. Not only are these conditions not chosen by us, some of them significantly limit our expression of freedom as well as our idea of ourselves as free. In so doing, they constrain the unfolding of human affairs and therefore also of world history. 196  Recall Hegel’s argument that if we claim that God is unknowable, we give ourselves permission to think what we please and thereby save ourselves the trouble of having to justify our beliefs about God (see my discussions in Chapter One, section 1.4; Chapter Two, section 2.2).

142  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit Had nature endowed us with altruism, for instance, or had she secured a situation of plenty making unnecessary any competition with others for survival, the history of Spirit would likely have taken a different course. My thesis that Hegel takes contingency seriously is less obvious, however, in the other two cases, the cases with which I will be preoccupied in this chapter. As I mentioned back in Chapter 2, Hegel unabashedly proclaims that we humans can know that history is governed by “divine Providence” (PH 13/22). We do not have to settle for the cognition of mere appearances, he says, because “nothing is easier to know” than “the thing-­in-­itself ” (EL §44). Indeed, Hegel takes us to be capable of a form of knowledge that is nothing short of “absolute”.197 These bold pronouncements about our cognitive capacities are not obviously reconcilable with my suggestion that he is deeply sensitive to the role of contingent factors in shaping our thought as well as actions. They hardly convey the message that he has a healthy appreciation for the extent of human frailty and finitude. Hegel’s realizability thesis—­his insistence upon the rationality of the actual198— seems equally at odds with my claim that he takes contingency seriously. He tells us that world history has progressed through the four principal stages of world Spirit. It has passed through its infancy (the “Oriental” stage) as well as its “Greek” and “Roman” stages. Having arrived at the “Germanic” stage, it has “completed” its journey and achieved “a self-­comprehending totality” (PH 82/105).199 Hegel asserts that Spirit in his time experiences itself as fully realized; it “now finds itself in this actual world [Weltlichkeit]” (PH 98/141). At least if taken at face value, remarks such as these hardly convey the impression that he is open to the possibility that the course of history could have unfolded differently. Nor do they give us reason to suppose that he holds that the history of Spirit is open-­ended, such that beyond the stage of “self-­comprehending totality” there might be room for further development and even progress. It is no small task, then, to establish that Hegel’s commitment to the knowability, freedom, and realizability theses supports the conclusion that he considers contingency to be more than an illusion masking a hidden necessity. Moving forward, my strategy will be to underscore a central respect in which Hegel’s appreciation of the fact of contingency shows up. I have already argued that this is evident in his account of how our various conceptions of freedom come into being. Rather than fixed in advance, the shapes of our freedom get generated out of (and therefore depend upon) our actual interactions with this-­worldly events. Our idea of freedom is in this respect conditioned by forces occurring in human time. In this chapter, I suggest that Hegel in addition advances the more general thesis 197  See, e.g. the final chapter of Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit. The path of Spirit culminates in “Absolute Knowledge”. 198  “What is rational is actual” (PR Preface 20/24). Hegel quotes this remark from the PR in EL §6. 199  For a further passage, see e.g. PH 92/134: “World history goes from east to west, for Europe is clearly the end of world history”.

Thought ’ s Temporality  143 that all our ideas or concepts are in some respect temporally conditioned. He repeatedly asserts that none of us can escape our time in thought, and this thesis has significant implications for how we should understand his view of the nature of thought as well as Spirit. In this chapter, then, I turn my attention to what I identified in my Introduction as the more ambitious aim of this book, which is to argue that Hegel is committed to a thesis about the temporally conditioned nature not just of freedom or Spirit but also of thought. In section 6.1, I explore the thesis of thought’s temporality and present evidence of Hegel’s commitment to it. I move on in section  6.2 to draw out its implications for his knowability thesis. What I argue is that it is precisely Hegel’s commitment to thought’s temporally conditioned nature that allows him to claim, perhaps surprisingly, that we can indeed know the purpose or plan of world history (and more generally, the nature of things in themselves). My argument in section 6.3 follows a similar strategy. I propose that it is only if we appreciate the respect in which Hegel treats thought as temporally conditioned that we can accurately interpret his realizability thesis (his thesis of the “rationality” of what is “actual”). Since the temporality thesis implies movement or “plasticity” even in those norms of reason that we deem the most steadfast, I consider how Hegel can nonetheless argue for the “scientific” and rationally justified status of his philosophy of history and encyclopedic system more generally.200 I conclude in section 6.4 with suggestions for how he is able to combine his commitment to the finite, temporally conditioned nature of human thought with an optimism about thought’s prospects for self-­improvement. Looking ahead to my seventh and final chapter, I set out there to reconcile Hegel’s commitment to the temporality of thought with passages in which he asserts that our thought nonetheless has a certain permanence or timelessness.

6.1  Preliminary Evidence of Hegel’s Commitment to Thought’s Temporality The thesis I defend in this section is that Hegel considers all our thought to be temporally conditioned. So formulated, the thesis is extremely vague and will require clarification in this and my final chapter. Minimally, I intend it to imply more than that all human thinking occurs and is extended in time. My claim, rather, is that all our thought acquires its content (its determinate concepts and laws) in time, that is, in the realm of our actual world, the realm of generation and

200  Hegel describes our “thought forms [Denkbestimmungen]” as “plastisch” at (SL 49/WL I 30). Catherine Malabou considers various appearances of the term in Hegel’s works, in The Future of Hegel: Plasticity, Temporality and Dialectic, translated by Lisabeth During (New York: Routledge, 2005), see especially 9–11.

144  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit destruction.201 Forces of nature as well as events of human history shape the development of thought’s content, in that thought’s content invariably reflects a particular scientific image, a culturally specific worldview, and philosophical orientation. Human thought is temporally conditioned because it is carried out by beings who necessarily inhabit and are shaped by nature and history, beings whose thoughts are anchored in and responsive to the spirit of their age.202 This thesis of thought’s temporality has implications for the role of contingency in Hegel’s overall system. If it is true that our thinking is indebted to forces of nature and history for its content, then it follows that our thinking—­regardless of its object—­must itself be contingent in a certain respect. No thinker can wholly choose or shape her nature; each of us is for instance powerless to select our biological parents or date of birth. Even should we aim to achieve total objectivity in our thinking, none of us is capable of completely transcending our time. Our powers of abstraction are limited rather than absolute, and this is the case whether the objects of our thought are rapidly decaying natural phenomena or purportedly eternal truths. My aim in this section is to offer reasons for attributing this position to Hegel. I begin by considering his reflections on the relation between our capacities for thought and for freedom. I argue that we can infer Hegel’s commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of thought from his defense of the temporally conditioned nature of freedom. When we reviewed Hegel’s account of the limits of our freedom in Chapter 5, we discovered that the freedom he awards us is a capacity we possess as creatures inhabiting the realm of nature. Our freedom is a special power of self motion, but it cannot initiate a causal series from a standpoint outside time. Its laws and concepts come to be in interaction with circumstances of nature and history—­ circumstances that are not in every instance products of human choice. Nature is responsible for the fact that our bodies are frail and corruptible, for example, and history presents us with events with which we must contend. We furthermore discovered that Hegel portrays human freedom as a “mode” or “manner [Weise]” of 201  I say “determinate” content, because we need to distinguish between the status of our most basic categories and concepts—­those most empty of determinate content, such as the concept “pure Being”—from their more determinate or developed successor concepts. I will return to this issue in section 6.2, but it is worth noting in anticipation that my interpretation implies that the latter, more determinate concepts rely on temporal conditions in a way that the former, for Hegel, do not. 202  Robert Pippin may be interpreting Hegelian Spirit along these lines when he writes that it is, “always already ‘self-­realizing’ in time, self-­authorizing or self-­legislating in a way that always relies on and is oriented by the practices and properties already authoritative at a time”. Hegel’s Practical Philosophy: Rational Agency as Ethical Life (Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 133. Some discover traces of this Hegelian view in the writings of Wilfrid Sellars. In “Knowledge and the Internal”, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research (1995) LV, no. 4, John McDowell describes Sellars’ opposition to a certain “deformation” of the “interiorization” of the “space of reasons” that occurs when we suppose that the “particular facts of the world” do not “actually shape the space of reasons as we find it”, 99. Sellars endorses the thesis, instead, that “the outer injects content into the inner”, 101.

Thought ’ s Temporality  145 thought rather than as a separate faculty. As he says, the free will is thought expressing itself in action, that is, “translating itself [sich übersetzend] into ex­ist­ ence” (PR §4A). If the content of our freedom comes to be only as a product of its interaction with forces of nature and history, and if freedom and thought are not separate faculties, then it must be the case that thought’s content comes to be as a product of its interactions with those forces as well. Assuming this line of interpretation is accurate, we can conclude that Hegel endorses the thesis that human thought is no more capable than the human will of entirely escaping the influences of nature and history. And just as we can account for transformative power of freedom without awarding it powers of radical transcendence, in his view, we can likewise account for the abstractive power of thought without relying on the premise that our powers of abstraction allow us to leave this actual realm completely behind. The proposal that Hegel is committed to the temporally limited nature of thought can be given further support. Consider, for instance, passages in which he comments on the creative powers of world historical figures. He praises Alexander the Great and Caesar in the following remark from the Encyclopaedia: [I]t was no less true that the time created these men as that it was created by them; they were as much the instrument of the spirit of their time and their people, as conversely, their people served these heroes as an instrument for the accomplishment of their deeds.  (EG §381A)

Hegel admires Alexander and Caesar as “heroes” who profoundly transformed human history and advanced the course of Spirit. But he also suggests in this remark that these heroes were products of their time. They neither chose when and where to be born, nor fashioned the specific conflicts they felt called upon to confront. Hegel ties the greatness of presumably both the thoughts and actions of Alexander and Caesar at least in part to forces over which they had no control. The two heroes catapulted human history to a new and higher stage, but their transformative powers were responsive to and therefore anchored in specific historical circumstances. In the Introduction to his Lectures on Aesthetics, Hegel conveys a similar message. He bemoans the fact that, in his own time, art has “lost . . . genuine truth and life” (Aesth I 11/25). In contrast with the “beautiful days of Greek art” and the “golden age of the later Middle Ages”, art in his time no longer satisfies “spiritual needs” and has been reduced to a mere object of reflection or judgment (Aesth I 10/24). Hegel laments the modern artist’s inability to entirely escape this detrimental influence:

146  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit [O]ur whole spiritual culture is of such a kind that [the practicing artist] himself stands within the world of reflection and its relations, and could not by any act of will and decision abstract himself from it [nicht etwa durch Willen und Enschluß davon abstrahieren . . . könnte].  (Aesth I 11/25, my emphasis)

Human agents possess considerable causal powers and can therefore be accurately described as capable of shaping their fate to some extent. But human agents cannot wholly escape their actual world. As Hegel claims here, the artist of his day “stands within [innerhalb . . . steht] the world of reflection” (my emphasis). The tools of the artist’s trade—­her ideas, materials and methods—­are not simply products of her imaginative exertions; the artist obtains them to a significant extent from the world she inhabits. Hegel sometimes comments on the way in which temporality limits not just the thoughts and actions of extraordinary individuals but of human thought in general, including the science of human thought, namely philosophy. He makes one such remark in the following well-­known passage from his Preface to the Philosophy of Right: As far as the individual is concerned, each individual is . . . a child [Sohn] of his time; thus philosophy, too, is its own time comprehended in thoughts. It is just as foolish to imagine that any philosophy can transcend [gehe über] its contemporary world as that an individual can overleap [überspringe] his own time. (PR 22/24)203

Notice that Hegel refers here to philosophy as a whole. His point is not just that philosophical reflection on a specific set of objects is historically conditioned. Rather, he implies that philosophical reflection, whatever its object, cannot “overleap” its contemporary world. His message would seem to have implications, then, even for our most abstract inquiries, including into the nature and forms of thought itself—­the kind of reflections he carries out in his Science of Logic.204 These passages provide at least initial support for my suggestion that Hegel considers all our thought, regardless of its object, to be indebted to natural as well 203  This point appears in Hegel’s Lectures on the Philosophy of History as well: “each individual is the child of his people, and likewise the child of his time . . . No one is left behind by his time, nor can he overstep [überspringt] it” (PH 55/72). 204 The Logic is the science that thinks about thinking. “In the Logic are thoughts so understood that they have no other content as what belongs to thinking itself and as what is produced through thought” (EL §24A2; see also §19). How does the mere thinking about the nature of thinking carry a debt to temporality? Perhaps one answer is that Hegel’s decision to begin his Logic as he does is meant to satisfy a certain agenda. He sets out to challenge a particular view of the nature of thought and its relation to objects, a view that is pervasive in his time and that he considers wrong-­headed. I expand on this issue in section 6.2.

Thought ’ s Temporality  147 as historical forces in the way I just specified. I move on, now, to present additional evidence in favor of this proposal—­evidence that derives from his ­further reflections on the limits of our thought and knowledge. Before moving on, however, it is worth pausing for a moment to reflect on what may seem to be an inconsistency in the assumptions I am attributing to Hegel. In this work, I have repeatedly emphasized Hegel’s frustration with those who are keen to remind us of the limits of our knowledge. I have highlighted his aim to establish that we can know not just “appearances” but also “things in themselves”. Regarding the history of human freedom in particular, I have called attention to his insistence upon the point that we can know our fate and therefore, as he says, “recognize the ways of Providence” (PH 16/26; my emphasis). The puzzle is that Hegel seems to want to have his cake and eat it too. We are capable of knowledge that is “absolute”, he tells us, yet we should also bear in mind our limits, since none of us can “overleap” our time. At least at first glance, these two claims appear incompatible. What we need is a plausible interpretation of these claims that resolves the apparent conflict. That is, we need an explanation for how Hegel can consistently insist upon our cognitive limits and attribute to us the capacity for absolute knowledge. To anticipate the line of interpretation I will be defending: I will argue that the Hegelian assertion that we can know things absolutely or “in themselves” in fact follows from his account of the temporally conditioned nature of our thought and knowledge. Before we can make this case, we need to clarify the precise nature of the limits Hegel means to attribute to us. Much can be learned from passages in which he asserts that, in our philosophical reflections on what comes next in the history of Spirit, we are in no position to prophesize. Hegel expresses this point, for instance, in the Preface to the Philosophy of Right where he portrays philosophy as the “owl of Minerva”: A further word on the subject of issuing instructions on how the world ought to be: philosophy [. . .] always comes too late to perform this function. As the thought of the world, it appears only at a time when actuality has gone through its formative process and attained its completed state.  (PR 21/27f.)

Clearly, Hegel intends to draw our attention here to constraints on what we can know about the future course of world history. My suggestion is that his point about limits, in this and other passages, gives us additional evidence of his commitment to thought’s temporality. On the interpretation I am proposing, Hegel’s assertion that our thoughts about how the world “ought to be” are limited because they always come “too late”, depends upon his assuming that our thought is temporally conditioned.

148  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit We can best appreciate the plausibility of this reading if we consider the precise nature of the cognitive power Hegel means to deny us. In claiming that philosophy “always comes too late” to issue “instructions on how the world ought to be”, he presumably means to imply something other than that we can have no grounds for making inductive inferences about what the future has in store for us. (At least, I have discovered no evidence that Hegel endorses this view.) Far more likely, he means to deny that we can have knowledge—­more precisely, necessary or unrevisable knowledge—­of what comes next in Spirit’s development.205 What would it take to possess such knowledge? To ask this question differently, what kind of mind could know with necessity “how the world ought to be”? We can draw a particularly obvious example of such a mind from Leibniz’s account of divine cognition. Leibniz’s God brings all substances into being and knows every substance’s complete concept. In possessing such knowledge, Leibniz’s God has the power to deduce from any substance’s concept all the possible predicates belonging to that substance. In knowing Alexander the Great’s complete concept (or “individual notion”), Leibniz’s God has necessary knowledge of everything that has happened and that will happen to Alexander.206 The Kantian model of the intuitive intellect is similar in key respects. In common with Leibniz’s divine mind, Kant’s intuitive intellect possesses formidable creative powers—­powers by means of which it can bring the material world into being. Precisely because it is capable of such extraordinary creativity, the intuitive intellect need not worry about a possible lack of correspondence between its intuitive representations and the objects to which they refer. It therefore has no need to undertake the arduous task of demonstrating that its representations capture the true nature of their objects. Less obviously, traces of this model of the perfect knower are contained as well in Kant’s account of our less perfect non-intuitive mode of knowing. For Kant, it follows from the fact that human understanding is not intuitive, that we cannot generate the matter or content of our knowledge by exercising our cognitive ­powers. In our efforts to know or cognize nature, we have to rely on being sensibly affected by an independently given content. In this respect, ours is a dependent 205  For some, it is an unfortunate feature of Hegel’s system that the future is “formless”, insofar as this implies that his philosophy (unlike that of Marx, for example) can give us no reliable guidance about what we can expect to come next. See John McCumber, Time and Philosophy: A History of Continental Thought (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-­Queens University Press, 2011), especially 55f., 75. Karl-­Otto Apel expresses similar disappointment in “Kant, Hegel, and the Contemporary Question Concerning the Normative Foundations of Morality and Right”, in Hegel on Ethics and Politics, eds R. Pippin and O. Höffe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 49–77. Apel complains that Hegel’s assumption that philosophy cannot project ahead yields the consequence that philosophy can offer no comfort to those seeking “orientation”, 62. 206  Leibniz, §8 Discourse on Metaphysics (1686). Hegel discusses Leibniz in his Lectures on the History of Philosophy and characterizes the Leibnizian account of God’s knowledge as that of “one who sees all things, recognizes in the present condition of substance the past and also the future” (LHP III 346/254).

Thought ’ s Temporality  149 form of cognition. In addition, we must unify that content by means of discursive forms, that is, concepts. The intuitive intellect, in contrast, is in possession of unlimited necessary knowledge precisely because it produces its objects directly from its intuiting activity. Thanks to its formidable causal power, it is warranted in asserting that there is a perfect fit between its intuiting activity and the objects themselves. Although Kant asserts that human cognition lacks the creative capacity of the intuitive intellect, he argues that—­in common with the intuitive intellect—­we, too, possess necessary material or non-­conceptual knowledge. He asserts that, by means of a proof or “deduction”, he can establish that we have such knowledge not of objects unconditionally, but of objects as they must be cognized by us—­objects he refers to as “appearances”. More precisely, Kant is persuaded that he can demonstrate that our pure concepts or “categories” are necessarily valid for such objects. Although our necessary material knowledge is not of objects “in themselves”, we can nevertheless know a priori of objects, in Kant’s words, “what we ourselves have put into them” (CPR Bxviii). Returning, now, to Hegel’s remark that philosophy cannot issue instructions on how the world ought to be, my suggestion is that he means to contrast our mode of cognition not just with the Leibnizian divine mind or Kantian intuitive intellect, but even with Kant’s finite or discursive mode of cognition. As I just noted, Kant defends the assumption that even a finite intellect such as ours can be in possession of necessary material or synthetic knowledge. He argues, for example, that we can know a priori that we must experience external appearances as spread out in space (as extensive magnitudes) and as causally connected. In the domain of the practical, he asserts that we are likewise capable of knowing with necessity that the standard for measuring moral worth is the a priori law he refers to as the categorical imperative. If there is any reason to designate as “modest” these Kantian assertions about the nature of our theoretical and practical knowledge, it is because the knowledge Kant means to attribute to us is not of objects without qualification, but rather of objects conditioned by the a priori forms necessary for our thinking and knowing them. The modest reach of human knowledge, compared with the knowledge of the divine or intuitive intellect, is thus for Kant tied to limits he places on the kind of objects that are theoretically or practically accessible to us. Our a priori knowledge of objects, as he says, is limited to “what we ourselves have put into them” (CPR Bxviii). About such objects, however, there is much that we can claim with necessity, in his view. We are justified in confidently pronouncing on the a priori conditions of our experience and science of appearances. Likewise, we are warranted in claiming to have determined once and for all the supreme a priori law that grounds the spheres of morality and right. The lesson I wish to extract from this brief story can be summarized as follows: Since Kant is persuaded that he has established the validity of our concepts or

150  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit ideas for their objects, he effectively takes himself to have earned the right to prophesize about how the world ought to be. Having demonstrated the necessity of the concepts and laws that condition the very possibility of our experience of nature and of morality, he believes he is entitled to assert that there is no temporal limit on the validity of those concepts and laws. His synthetic a priori principles of possible experience are valid for appearances universally and necessarily. Likewise, his supreme moral law or categorical imperative is a timelessly valid condition of moral imputability for finite rational natures like us.207 Hegel, in contrast, does not follow Kant this far. The fact that he does not, I am suggesting, is evident in his repeated reminders that we are not entitled to pronounce on how the world ought to be. Hegel, of course, does not deny that we make predictions about the future and sometimes stand behind those predictions with confidence. But he does not follow Kant because, in his view, we have no right to the assert the transhistorical validity of our predictions. As he writes in his Preface to the Philosophy of Right, any theory that “builds itself a world as it ought to be”, and that in doing so tries to “transcend” its own time, does so only with opinions; and opinion is a “pliant medium in which the imagination can construct anything it pleases [alles Beliebige]” (22/26). As I am interpreting it, Hegel’s message is not that we can never be warranted in making inductively grounded predictions about what the future will or will not be. In challenging our right to prophesize, he instead means to cast doubt on the assumption that it is possible for us to know with necessity what comes next and therefore count on our predictions about subsequent stages of thought’s or Spirit’s development (as well as about the “end” of history). In denying us the power to prophesize, Hegel in other words effectively challenges a particular account of how our purportedly wholly a priori forms—­pertaining to the nature of Spirit or anything else—­could be timelessly valid or immutable, even in the restricted Kantian sense of timelessly valid for objects as they must be experienced and known by us. In short, Hegel denies us the power to prophesize because he has suspicions about certain pretensions to permanent, immutable knowledge. His 207  I want to be careful not to overstate this point. At issue is whether Kant can be accurately characterized as open to the possibility that the results of his own critical reflections should themselves be subject to doubt. It is not difficult to find texts that seem to warrant a negative answer. After all, he consistently awards his a priori principles universal and necessary validity, and he often comes across as rigid and dogmatic. He writes in the A-­Preface to the Critique of Pure Reason, for instance, that his investigation will not tolerate mere opinion or hypotheses; it will instead yield “completeness” as well as “certainty” (Axivf.). His critique of reason, which ‘outlines’ the plan of transcendental philosophy “from principles”, he tells us further on, will provide “a full guarantee [Gewährleistung] of completeness and certainty of all the components that comprise this edifice” (A13/B27). In “The End of All Things” (1794), Kant asserts of the moral principles we discover “governing in us” that “they will continue to prevail after death, and we have not the slightest reason to assume an alteration of them in that future” (8:330; my emphasis). On the other hand, Kant passionately defends the necessity of self-­ criticism and urges us to steer clear of dogmatism. In “What is Enlightenment?”, he warns of the danger of an age’s binding its successors to its own creeds. This is a “crime against human nature” because it may impede “progress in general enlightenment” (8:39).

Thought ’ s Temporality  151 suspicions, I am proposing, rest on his commitment to a thesis about the temporally conditioned nature of all our thinking.

6.2  The Knowability Thesis I have been drawing attention to certain Hegelian assumptions about the limits of our knowledge. On the interpretation I am defending, Hegel is persuaded that our thought—­and therefore also our knowledge—­is without exception temporally conditioned. The thesis is not just that all our thinking occurs and can be located in time; it implies, in addition, that our thought depends for its origin and content on what is—­on the changing forces of history and nature. We cannot escape these forces and access a God’s-­eye point of view, not even in our most abstract reflections. A moment ago, however, I noted that this insistence upon limits seems out of  sync with Hegel’s bold assertion that we are capable of a knowledge that is “absolute”, a knowledge that therefore reveals the essences of things, their nature as they are in themselves. These two Hegelian commitments appear to conflict, and we thus face the challenge of explaining how he can at once insist upon, and yet also deny, a thesis about the finite nature of our knowledge. As I suggested earlier, the challenge can be met because, as I hope to show, Hegel’s assertion that we can know things in themselves is compatible with his account of the precise respect in which our knowledge is limited. To see this, we need to consider more carefully his reasons for insisting that we can indeed know things in themselves. At least this much is clear: Hegel’s aim is not to cast doubt on the premise that some objects of thought are empirically unknowable and as such inappropriate objects of empirical or natural scientific study. That is, although he claims that we can know things in themselves, it is not his intention to deny that we have grounds for distinguishing objects of science from those of faith, or for separating the norms and conditions of natural scientific inquiry from those of practical inquiry or speculation. The very organizational structure of Hegel’s encyclopedic system reveals that he holds that objects of inquiry admit of significant distinctions; he grants that boundaries need to be drawn between the sciences of nature, freedom, and thought. He does not set out to convince us, for instance, that there can be no good reasons for distinguishing objects that possess freedom from those that do not. But given Hegel’s recognition that distinctions need to be drawn between different kinds of objects and the different sciences appropriate to them—­given that his own Encyclopaedia separates what Kant refers to as objects of “theoretical” from objects of “practical” inquiry—­why does he nevertheless appear to ignore this boundary in insisting that the thing in itself is knowable? What message does

152  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit he intend to convey when he proclaims that it is possible for us to know the fate of history and the ways of divine Providence? What kind of knowledge is he attributing to us? In declaring that we can know the thing in itself, Hegel’s message is not that there can be no grounds whatsoever for distinguishing objects of faith or practical knowledge from objects of natural scientific or theoretical knowledge; he instead means to challenge a certain conception of those grounds. In particular, he rejects an assumption that underlies the Kantian distinction between what is and is not knowable for cognizers like us. The assumption affirmed by Kant and others that Hegel calls into question is that there is a clear line separating thought-­objects that contain an empirical component and thought-­ objects that do not. Hegel in other words denies that some of our concepts or laws are wholly non-­empirical or pure and thus generated out of a faculty that is itself wholly pure. For Kant, as we know, our theoretical or scientific knowledge is restricted to “appearances”. Appearances are possible objects of experience or empirical intuition; they are objects that can be encountered in space and time. In contrast, Kant’s “thing in itself ” is a mere “thought-­object [Gedankending]” and as such not a possible object of human experience (See e.g. CPR A 291/B 348, A 543/B 571). On his account, our concepts or thoughts of such objects contain nothing empirical and are therefore “pure” or “a priori”. The concepts (or “ideas”) of freedom and purpose and Providence are for Kant instances of pure or a priori concepts. “Ideas”, in his technical sense, are concepts for which “no object can be given in experience” (CJ §77 [344f.]). As products of pure reason, ideas owe nothing of their origin to experience or history; they are products of a faculty of reason that is pure and that can as such originate concepts and laws entirely from itself. Again, my interpretative suggestion is that when Hegel boldly asserts that there is nothing we can know so easily as the thing in itself, he means to call into question a certain conception of the degree to which it is possible for any human thinker to entirely abstract from what is. On my reading, his assertion that we can know things in themselves is in this way consistent with his insistence upon the limits of our knowledge. Indeed, the two claims are not just consistent. Hegel’s thesis that we can know things in themselves is in fact an implication of the limits he attributes to our knowledge. Precisely because our thought is temporally anchored, it follows that even the most abstract objects of reflection—­the “things in themselves” that are supposed to be extra-­temporal—­are indebted for their origin and content to beings whose thinking is without exception anchored in nature and history. It is for this reason that even the thing in itself is a possible object of our knowledge. But why should we be confident that precisely these are the considerations responsible for Hegel’s insistence upon the knowability of things in themselves? Why should we in other words suppose that, as I have suggested, he draws his

Thought ’ s Temporality  153 conclusion about the knowability of things in themselves from his commitment to our thought’s temporality? One piece of evidence in favor of this reading shows up in his repeated complaints about the “inconsistency” of those who urge modesty in our assessment of the extent of our knowledge, yet at the same time take themselves to be in possession of a knowledge that is unlimited or “absolute”. Consider, for example, the following passage from the Encyclopaedia: [I]t is the supreme inconsistency to admit, on the one hand, that the understanding is cognizant only of appearances, and to assert, on the other, that this cognition is something absolute—­by saying: cognition cannot go any further, this is the natural, absolute restriction of human knowing.  (EL §60)

This remark occurs in the context of Hegel’s discussion of the “Critical philosophy” in the Encyclopaedia, where he makes no secret of the fact that his principal target is Kant.208 Hegel takes Kant to task for tacitly awarding himself some form of “absolute” cognition. In implying that Kant believes he has captured the “natural, absolute restriction of human knowing”, Hegel’s message is that Kant in effect considers his thesis about the limits of the knowledge of the understanding [Verstand] to be unrevisable. An inconsistency arises because although Kant claims to be sensitive to the limits of human knowledge, he is insensitive to limits in a certain respect. This is because he supposes that he knows them ‘absolutely’. To express Hegel’s complaint differently, Kant’s modesty itself has limits. In other passages, Hegel observes that underlying this inconsistency is a certain vanity. The vanity he apparently has in mind refers not to the effort to draw proper boundaries; rather (and as suggested in the passage we just considered), it refers to the level of confidence Kant and others place in their ability to do so. In a remark in the Encyclopaedia, Hegel explicitly connects the inconsistency and vanity charges. In response to those who ask, “ ‘How should a poor worm like me be able to discover what is true?’, ” Hegel replies: “Here it is not modesty that holds us back from the study and cognition of the truth, but the conviction that we possess the truth in and for itself already” (EL §19A1). In a passage from the Lectures on the Philosophy of History we considered back in Chapter  3, he again links his inconsistency and vanity objections: When the Divine Being is placed beyond the reach of our knowing and beyond human affairs altogether, we gain the convenience of indulging in our own imaginings. We are thereby excused from having to give our knowledge some

208  Although it is obvious that Hegel has the Kantian philosophy principally in mind in these passages, he directs criticisms at Fichte as well, in §60A2. Earlier in these pages, he associates the “Kantian philosophy” with the thesis that “the things that we know about are only appearances for us, and what they are in themselves remains for us an inaccessible beyond” (EL §45A).

154  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit relation to the Divine and the True. On the contrary, the vanity of human knowledge and subjective feeling receives a complete justification for itself. And when pious humility places the knowing God at a distance, it knows full well what it has thereby gained for its arbitrariness and vain efforts.  (PH 17/27)

Behind “pious” expressions of modesty, Hegel tells us here, lurk vain pretensions of a knowledge that is supposed to be somehow absolute. Whether such knowledge is taken to rest on subjective feeling, special insight, or (as in Kant’s case) a priori laws of reason, those guilty of such pretensions rest their case on what is effectively an appeal to self-­evidence. In doing so, they save themselves the trouble of having to demonstrate “some relation to the Divine and the True”, as Hegel says. They seal themselves off from criticism and enjoy the “convenience” of indulging in their own “imaginings”. In short, Hegel charges that those who consider themselves capable of discovering the “absolute restriction of human knowing”, presuppose that they are privy to a knowledge that is absolute in the sense of unrevisable (EL §60). They assume they can know with necessity what will come next and are therefore warranted in prophesizing. They are in a position to prophesize because they possess extraordinary powers of abstraction, powers to overleap their time and confidently specify the necessary and universal conditions of knowledge or experience or morality. They flatter themselves that they have discovered laws or concepts that are incorruptible by contingencies of nature and history.209 As I have been portraying it, Hegel’s alternative is to defend the proposal that all human reflection, no matter how abstract, is anchored in this actual world. All our concepts, including Kantian “ideas” of reason, are artefacts of actual, temporally located thinkers lacking the capacity to wholly transcend their world in thought. Hegel does not endorse the implausible thesis that it is utterly impossible for human thinkers to perform acts of abstraction. Nor does he deny that some of our concepts are more abstract or general than others. He does not infer from his premise that we cannot absolutely escape our time, that we have no grounds whatsoever for acknowledging that some objects of inquiry are susceptible to empirical scientific study and others are not. But just as he is convinced that he can defend a robust thesis about the transformative nature of human freedom without requiring that our freedom be an extra-­temporal or “transcendental” power, he is likewise confident that he can defend a distinction between empirical

209  For a further passage in which Hegel characterizes as a form of “vanity” the “modesty” of those who treat the finitude of Geist as “fixed and absolute”, see EG §386. He remarks there that the ‘modest’ insistence upon the absoluteness of finitude appears as an “extreme immersion [of Spirit] in its subjectivity”. As such, it can even degenerate into “wickedness”. Hegel takes up these themes, as well, in the PhG (sections on Conscience and the Beautiful Soul), and in more abbreviated form in the Morality chapter of PR, §140 (e) and (f).

Thought ’ s Temporality  155 and non-­empirical objects without having to argue any of our thought-­objects are ever wholly non-­empirical or pure. This interpretation is admittedly most difficult to defend in the case of the concepts Hegel identifies as the most fundamental, the concepts (such as “pure Being”) he introduces in the first pages of his Science of Logic. If any Hegelian concepts are appropriately characterized as wholly non-­empirical, these are. Even Hegel attributes an essential, stable nature to thought, by means of which we can distinguish it from our other capacities. In thinking, we necessarily employ concepts; and when we think, we necessarily think about something, about some object or being. Minimally, then, all thinking presupposes the concept of some object (of what Hegel designates as “pure” or “indeterminate” being). As constitutive of thought, this basic concept is in no respect empirically derived or revisable.210 But it might now seem that this concedes too much, for if Hegel indeed holds that some of our concepts are genuinely pure as necessary conditions of thought, his position begins to look very much like Kant’s, and it would appear that we have no reason to assume that he is committed to temporality or contingency all the way down. I return to this issue of how Hegel can both attribute permanence as well as contingency to thought in my final chapter, but I nonetheless want to expand on this matter a bit further here. As I understand him, Hegel argues not just that all our thinking is historically conditioned but also that this thesis is consistent with his assumption that we have some concepts that are in a certain respect permanent, namely those concepts he identifies as the most fundamental constituents of thought. This reading implies, for instance, that the concept with which his “Doctrine of Being” in the Logic begins, namely “pure Being”, is somehow at the same time a priori as well as historically contingent. How can it be both? The answer is revealed in the meaning and function Hegel awards the concept in the opening pages of the work. The Logic begins with “pure Being” in response to an understandable objective, namely that of beginning in a

210  I have been persuaded in these matters by Houlgate’s response to those inclined to treat all Hegelian concepts as empirical and therefore revisable. In “Hegel and Brandom on Norms, Concepts and Logical Categories”, Houlgate takes Robert Brandom to task for ignoring the special status of certain Hegelian concepts, namely those that “constitute the implicit preconditions of the employment of empirical concepts”, 143. The “logical” categories, Houlgate writes, are for Hegel “essential to ordinary, everyday discourse and understanding” and “intrinsic to thought”, 143, 145. In German Idealism: Contemporary Perspectives, ed. E. Hammer (New York: Routledge, 2007), 137–152. Houlgate’s remarks are directed at works Brandom published between 1994 and 2002, and one wonders whether they apply equally well to Brandom’s more recent monograph, A Spirit of Trust: A Reading of Hegel’s Phenomenology (Cambridge, MA and London: Harvard University Press, 2019). About “metaconcepts” such as Being and Essence, Brandom writes that, “Hegel was sure” that such concepts were “the right tools with which to forge” his recollective account of the journey of thought, 630. This description again raises the question whether, in Spirit of Trust, Brandom still treats Hegelian metaconcepts as empirically derived.

156  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit way that can be taken for granted, that is, without presuppositions. The Logic begins with “pure Being” because, in any science, we want to set out with the most abstract and empty of concepts; this is how we ensure that our science rests on firm ground. For Hegel, however, the progression from this first concept “pure being” to the generation of further concepts depends upon our recognizing how initial appearances deceive. We begin by positing “Being” as empty of content, that is, as “pure” or “absolute” “indeterminacy [Unbestimmtheit]”. Upon reflection, however, we discover that we cannot really mean what we say. For were “pure Being” absolutely indeterminate, we would have no basis for distinguishing it from “Nothing”, and we find this result intolerable. The fact that we consider this result intolerable, however, reveals that our initial concept was not as empty as it first seemed. We discover that we in fact presupposed that “pure Being” is not “Nothing”. Although it initially appeared that our concept “pure Being” was empty, we now discover that we presupposed some content. In short, we learn that we did not really begin with emptiness or indeterminacy at all, and that the beginning of our science is not what we originally took it to be. Minimally, these reflections on the concept of pure Being are intended to challenge the assumption that our beginning is presuppositionless. But Hegel wishes us to extract further lessons from this discussion, including the lesson that our presupposition of the “absolute opposition” between “pure Being” and “Nothing” is untrue, and as such, unstable or contingent. For Hegel, it is a matter of historical fact that this presupposition has served as a fundamental governing principle of the history of thought since at least Parmenides, and one of his aims in the Logic is to expose its vast and problematic influence. But Hegel also aims to reveal how, in his time, thought has begun to progress beyond the logic of absolute opposition. In his ‘modern’ era, Hegel discovers indications that intellectual history has advanced from the logic of rigid opposition to an appreciation of thought’s dialectical or plastic nature. For moderns, on his account, the logic of  “Verstand” has in other words shown signs of yielding ground to the logic of “Vernunft”. What I am proposing, in summary, is that Hegel argues in favor of the following two assumptions, assumptions he takes to be consistent: (i) that at the basis of all thought are pure or a priori concepts—­concepts constitutive of all thought and that therefore enjoy a certain permanence, and (ii) that once we subject these concepts to reflection (once we make their implicit content explicit, as Robert Brandom would put it), we learn both that they are less empty than we originally thought, and that they rest on assumptions that are historically contingent. Hegel deploys this method of exposing presupposed content repeatedly and throughout his work; it is the engine that drives all of his progressive narratives.211 The method 211  Hegel’s treatment of the fundamental concepts and laws of Kant’s practical philosophy proceeds along the same lines. Kant is motivated by the noble objective of grounding his practical philosophy

Thought ’ s Temporality  157 is intended to persuade us not just of thought’s essentially dialectical nature but also of the contingency or instability underlying even our most stable concepts and laws. I would suggest, too, that this method fundamentally distinguishes his basic philosophical aims and commitments from Kant’s. As for Hegel’s own starting point in the Logic, notice that it, too, cannot be accurately described as some rarified “view from nowhere”. His analysis is goal driven. He challenges the assumption of absolute opposition between “pure Being” and “Nothing”, for example, because he wishes to expose deficiencies in the logic of Verstand. He sets out by supposing that it is possible to begin without presuppositions because he wants us to appreciate the naïveté of this assumption. These are among Hegel’s philosophical goals, and he does not generate them out of thin air. His goals reveal his ties to his time; they are reactive rather than expressions of a wholly spontaneous or original mode of creativity.212 As I mentioned, I return in my final chapter to expand on the role Hegel awards permanence in his system. My point in these paragraphs has been to argue that Hegel can consistently affirm both that there is something temporally unconditioned about the most basic categories of the Science of Logic and grant the temporally conditioned nature of those categories. If my insistence upon his commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of thought is accurate, then we have our answer to one of the main questions I posed back in Chapter  1 of this work: Comparing Kant and Hegel, which of the two philosophers is more sensitive to the nature and extent of human finitude? If I am right, it would seem to be Hegel who comes out ahead. As I have been suggesting, we should acknowledge that Hegel’s estimation of the limits of human knowledge goes beyond the recognition that some objects of thought are inappropriate objects of empirical scientific inquiry and should therefore be classified as objects of faith or speculation. In opposition to Kant, he in addition asks us to appreciate the respect in which all our thought is limited in the further sense of temporally conditioned. Hegel’s description of the nature of our knowledge—­his assertion, even, that we have on a law that is universally and necessarily valid rather than contingent. For this reason, he insists that the supreme practical law or categorical imperative must be maximally formal or empty; it must command only that our maxims and actions have universal validity. But when we examine the practical law more closely, we discover that it “presupposes content”, as Hegel says. The law, for Kant, is a law of freedom, and therefore rests on a particular conception of freedom and practical agency. Hegel wants to persuade us that when reflection carefully examines what Kant precisely understands by the freedom and subjectivity of human agency, reflection uncovers assumptions Spirit has progressed beyond, assumptions that are historically contingent. For one expression of Hegel’s empty formalism charge, see §135 of the Philosophy of Right. I discuss this charge, as well as efforts of Kantians to respond to it, in “Hegel on the Empty Formalism of Kant’s Categorical Imperative”, in A Companion to Hegel, eds S. Houlgate and M. Baur (Blackwell Publishing, 2012), 265–280. 212  Here, I return to the theme that thought and Spirit are for Hegel not just fundamentally active but also fundamentally reactive or responsive in nature. As I noted back in Chapter 4, this is a theme emphasized by Fackenheim in Religious Dimension, 44–48. It shows up as well in Ferrarin’s observation that although Hegelian Spirit “transforms”, it transforms what it finds. In “Hegel’s Aristotle: Philosophy and Its Time”, 436.

158  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit some knowledge that is “absolute”—follows not from a too generous estimation of our powers of cognition; it follows, rather, from a profound appreciation of their limits.213

6.3  Hegel’s “Philosophic” Method Revisited I want to offer a final piece of evidence in favor of the interpretation I have just defended. I draw on our discussion back in Chapter 2 of Hegel’s characterization of his “philosophic” method in the Introduction to his Lectures on the Philosophy of History. His discussion there gives us further reason to conclude that he denies that human reason can ever be wholly pure and, as such, productive of absolutely pure or a priori concepts and laws. We saw in Chapter 2 that Hegel portrays his philosophic approach to history as a hybrid method that combines features of “original” and “reflective” history. In common with reflective history, philosophic history endorses the assumption that our histories are necessarily conceptually mediated and as such not based on direct acquaintance or observation. From the standpoint of the philosophic method, the philosophy of history is “the thoughtful consideration [denkende Betrachtung] of history”; it construes history, Hegel says, “according to thoughts” (PH 10/20). In common with the reflective method, then, philosophic history affirms the thesis that thinking is present in all our “perception and cognition [Kenntnis und Erkenntnis]”—even in our “drives and volition” (PH 10/20). At the same time, however, Hegel’s philosophic approach shares features in common with original history. In particular, it shares the aim of original history to “apprehend the historical faithfully” (PH 14/23). Although philosophic history grants that we must bring thoughts to our historical investigations, it warns against flights of fantasy. The philosophic historian considers herself duty bound to avoid substituting “subjective notions” or abstractions of a “vain imagination” for historical data; she is to steer clear of “a priori fabrications [apriorische Erdichtungen]” (PH 9/18, 13/22). As Hegel points out, his “philosophic” history appears to require itself to satisfy incompatible demands. It must avoid the naïveté of the original historian who ignores the role of concepts in getting at the facts; at the same time, however, it 213 Nowhere in this work have I tried to specify what Hegel means by “absolute” knowledge. Minimally, it is knowledge that closes a gap that Hegel believes all previous systems leave open—­the gap, namely, between a mind-­independent world and the operations and determinations of our thought and cognition. Reading between the lines of the interpretation I have been developing here, the Hegelian key to closing this gap lies in recognizing the way in which what might first appear to be an “absolute opposition” between mind and world is in fact a relation of “identity”, that is, of mutual dependence. Even in his earliest writings, Hegel complains that Kant posits the “idea [Idee]” as “absolutely opposed [absolut entgegengesetzt]” to “being [Sein]” (Diff. 81/11; see also FK 93/GW 330, FK 128/GW 367). I have more to say about these matters in Hegel’s Critique of Kant (2012).

Thought ’ s Temporality  159 must accurately capture the facts. We established in Chapter  2 that although Hegel notes in the Lectures that there appears to be a “contradiction [Widerspruch]” in the aims and methodological commitments of philosophic history, he believes the contradiction can be “clarified [erklärt]” and “resolved [widerlegt]” (PH 10f./20). He will show us how his philosophic method can meet the competing demands of the “original” and “reflective” methods. It can meet them because it understands them properly and knows them to be compatible. Before we consider Hegel’s proposed solution to the apparent contradiction, we should take a moment to more precisely characterize the assumptions that generate it. Again, a contradiction seems to arise because it is not clear how the historian can both claim to accurately represent the facts and embrace the insight that any effort to get at the facts is necessarily mediated by thoughts or concepts. Hegel urges us to dismiss the contradiction as apparent, because he believes that it rests on a false assumption. The false assumption, I am suggesting, is one the reflective historian makes about the nature and origin of our concepts. In particular, the assumption is that our concepts are incapable of getting at what is just because they originate in the subject.214 Recall that my aim in returning to Hegel’s remarks in the Lectures on features of his philosophic method is to offer a final piece of textual support for my proposal that he considers all our thought to be temporally conditioned. How, then, does his solution to the contradiction that seems to plague his philosophic method supply that further evidence? As I just noted, Hegel is persuaded that the contradiction is merely apparent, because it rests on a false assumption about the nature and origin of our concepts. The contradiction arises because reflective history attaches to the subjective origin of our concepts the implication that they are incapable of getting at what is. More precisely, the false assumption is that it follows from the fact that our concepts are in a certain respect subjective, that they must be incapable of capturing the true nature or essences of things. What I am suggesting is that Hegel’s solution to the apparent contradiction requires us to think differently about the subjectivity (that is, about the subjective or a priori origin) of our concepts. We can express Hegel’s solution in a different way: it requires us to appreciate the precise means by which his “philosophic” method combines elements of both “original” and “reflective” methods. Hegel’s philosophic method is not a simple conjunction of the other two; it includes—­as well as transforms—­features of each of them. Hegel’s philosophic approach retains from original history the idea that the historian both should and can accurately capture the facts. It dispenses, however, with original history’s naïve conception of facts as immediately given and available to us by means of direct observation or acquaintance. Philosophic 214  Hegel seems to direct this criticism at the “critical” reflective historian in particular. I discuss his remarks on the “excessive subjectivity” of this mode of history in Chapter 2, section 2.2.

160  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit history retains a certain insight of reflective history as well. It endorses the premise that all our perception and cognition is conceptually mediated. At the same time, however, it challenges the reflective historian’s assumption that since our concepts are subjective in origin, they must be separated from what is by an unbridgeable gulf. Although philosophic history shares with reflective history the assumption that all history is conceptually mediated, it affirms a premise that reflective history rejects, namely that “our thinking is subordinated [untergeordnet] to the given and to what exists” (PH 10/20). Our thinking is subordinated to what exists, according to Hegel, not just because we as historians have a duty to attend to what exists. His point, in addition, is that our concepts are indebted to what exists for their nature and origin. If this interpretation is on track, then philosophic history departs from its reflective counterpart insofar as it refuses to award the products of our thinking a certain independence or autonomy, the kind of independence or autonomy that carries with it the implication that our thoughts are incapable of adequately capturing what is. The philosophic historian need not follow the reflective historian down this skeptical path because she denies that our concepts possess this kind of subjectivity. Although she grants that our concepts are generated from our capacities as thinking subjects, she holds that none are wholly pure or a priori. None are wholly pure or a priori, because no human thinker is capable of generating her concepts or ideas from a standpoint outside time.215 Again, the main lesson here is that the appearance of a contradiction between the methods of the original and the reflective historian rests for Hegel on the reflective historian’s premise that the subjective origin of our concepts renders them incapable of capturing what is. We can dismiss the contradiction as merely apparent—­but only if we reject the reflective historian’s specific account of the subjectivity of our concepts. Rejecting that account, I am suggesting, is equivalent to granting the respect in which none of our concepts is absolutely pure or a priori. On my reading, it is therefore crucial that we appreciate how it is that Hegel’s philosophic method is not simply a species of the reflective approach to history. Were it so, then Hegel could consider himself entitled to assert that his idea of the overall purpose of history is generated by pure reason. He would have no basis for resisting the Kantian reliance on pure reason for his standard or measure for judging the course of history. Clearly, Hegel does not rely on the purported resources of pure reason in this way. Instead, when he defends his theses that world history is rational as well as progressive, and that “there is a divine

215 One might derive from this assumption the lesson, defended perhaps most notably by Benedetto Croce in Theory & History of Historiography, that all history is effectively contemporary history (London: George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd., 1921).

Thought ’ s Temporality  161 Providence presiding over the events of the world”, he indicates that he draws his evidence from “the consideration of world history itself ” (PH 13/22; 15f./25; see also 19/29f.). Summing up the results of our discussion in this and the previous section: We began by asking how Hegel can consistently insist upon the limits of human knowledge yet also boldly assert that we can know things in themselves. I have been arguing that these two claims are compatible, and that he takes the former claim to imply the latter. The assumption that we can know things in themselves—­ and that the philosopher of history can therefore recognize the ways of Providence—­follows, for Hegel, from the fact that we are incapable of transcending this actual world in thought. Our thoughts—­even of the most abstract objects—­are unavoidably responsive to and reflective of what is. If we take seriously the temporally conditioned nature of thought, as I believe Hegel wishes us to, then it becomes possible for us to appreciate how it is possible for us to know things in themselves. For we then understand the respect in which there is no gap between our thoughts and what is that needs to be bridged.216

6.4  The Realizability Thesis: The Actuality of the Rational and the Rationality of the Actual So far, I have said very little in this work about what I am referring to as Hegel’s “realizablity thesis”. He expresses the thesis in various contexts, including in the following well-­known passage from the Preface to his Philosophy of Right: [S]ince philosophy is the exploration of the rational, it is for that very reason [eben damit] the comprehension of the present and of the actual. (20/24)

216  This conclusion seems to be shared by the pragmatist John Dewey as well. As he argues in The Quest for Certainty, as long as we cling to the “spectator” theory of knowledge according to which the mind is a capacity for disclosing reality that operates “apart from any overt interactions of the organisms with surrounding conditions”, we give ourselves no way to close the gap between the mind’s operations and what is “outside what is known” (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1929), 23. Dewey, however, identifies Hegel as one of his key philosophical opponents. Although Hegel is to be praised for putting forward the idea of the “concrete universal”, Dewey writes, he “ignored the phase of temporal reconstruction with its necessity for overt existential interaction”, 190 (see, for more criticism, 211). Despite Dewey’s self-­identification as an anti-­Hegelian (at least in Quest), it is not difficult to understand why Hegel has inspired pragmatist-­oriented readings of Robert Brandom and others. Brandom’s repudiation of the spectator theory and emphasis on the role of practical activity in the origin of knowledge and meaning is evident, for example, in the “conceptual idealism” he defends in A Spirit of Trust. For more on whether Hegel can be accurately portrayed as a pragmatist, see e.g. Willem deVries, “Hegel’s Pragmatism”, in The Palgrave Hegel Handbook, eds M. Bykova and K. Westphal (Cham/Switz, Palgrave MacMillan, 2020), 541–557; Dina Emundts, “Hegel as a Pragmatist”, British Journal for the History of Philosophy 23:4 (2015): 611–631; Robert Stern, “Hegel and Pragmatism”, in A Companion to Hegel, eds. S. Houlgate and M. Baur (Chichester: Blackwell Publishing, 2011), 556–575.

162  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit The thesis shows up in his Lectures on the Philosophy of History as well. In his Introduction to the Lectures, he writes that world history has been “the rational, necessary course of world Spirit” (PH 13/22).217 But what does Hegel precisely mean by the realizability thesis? How does he ground it, and how does his endorsement of it give us further evidence of his commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of thought as well as of the fact that he takes contingency seriously? Beginning with the question about meaning, I have noted that the thesis seems obviously false, at least when interpreted in a certain way. If we take Hegel to imply by the rationality of the actual that everything that has actually happened in human history is a manifestation of rationally justifiable practical norms, the thesis invites easy ridicule. Not only that: read in this way, the thesis is at odds with the many expressions of despair we encounter in Hegel’s own reflections on human history. A survey of the “drama of human passions”, he says, “fills us with “grief [Trauer]”, given what it reveals of all the “violence [Gewalttätigkeit]”, “unreason [Unverstandes]”, and even “evil [Böse]”, brought about by the human spirit” (PH 23f./34). World history is a “slaughterbench [Schlachtbank], upon which the happiness of nations, the wisdom of states, and the virtues of individuals were sacrificed” (PH 24/35). In light of these and other passages, it is evident that, contrary to the cariacture, Hegel does not try to persuade us that everything that is, is right or good, and that we therefore have no cause for concern about the misery humanity has repeatedly inflicted upon itself throughout its history. But then we need an alternative interpretation of the realizability thesis, one that better captures the motivation behind his insistence upon the rationality of the actual. Another candidate interpretation we can rule out fairly swiftly assumes that he is a positivist about the origin of rational norms. On this intepretation, Hegel’s slogan about the “rationality” of the “actual” is intended to convey the message that our practical reasons or norms are nothing other than reflections of what is. He grants that we take ourselves to have reasons for judging some behaviors and actions to be good or bad, but he nonetheless also holds that our reasons simply express our actual norms and practices. Our reasons are mere expressions of the tastes and preferences of our time, and they lack genuine independence from what is. For historically anchored creatures like us, there can be no critical distance to any significant degree. As I argued back in Chapter 3, however, Hegel insists upon distinguishing his sciences from those that are positive; he urges us to bear in mind that, on his account, rational norms are not mere expressions of actual opinions and practices. In characterizing the various parts of his encyclopedic system as “scientific”, 217  Hegel expresses this point also in EL §6: “Was vernünftig ist, das ist wirklich und was wirklich ist, das ist vernünftig”.

Thought ’ s Temporality  163 he implies that his philosophies of logic, nature, and spirit admit of rational justification. Human history can and should be judged by us, in his view. Hegel believes he can justify his claim that the story of human history is one of progress, a story according to which inferior conceptions of freedom and right are replaced or “superseded [aufgehoben]” by superior ones. He is confident that his own progressive narrative can survive critical scrutiny because he believes he has supplied compelling evidence in support of it. If we take Hegel at his word, the assumption that he is a positivist therefore also fails as a plausible interpretation of his realizability thesis. But how can we then defend a more accurate reading of the thesis, and precisely what kind of in­de­ pend­ence does he award rational norms? If Hegel is no positivist, he must intend to preserve some kind of dualism of ‘ought’ and ‘is’; he must aim to preserve grounds for distinguishing our natural drives and passions from our reasoned responses. But how does he accomplish this end? Here, it is important that we bear in mind a point I have stressed many times in this work: although norms of freedom are not, for Hegel, mere reflections of actual opinions and practices, he does not follow Kant in arguing that their source is pure reason. Moreover, and as I will suggest, his departure from Kant on the nature and origin of practical norms gives us further reason to conclude that he takes contingency seriously. The positivist argues for the rationality of the actual by means of a reduction. She asserts that rational norms are nothing but reflections of actual opinions and practices; her ‘ought’ reduces to an ‘is’ in precisely this respect. In contrast, the Kantian fiercely resists the suggestion that such a reduction is even possible. Not only do rational norms for the Kantian not reduce to what is, they are assumed to be radically independent from what is. Indeed, rational norms have to be radically independent from what is if they are to earn their special status as universally and necessarily valid. Rational norms must have their origin in a faculty whose concepts and laws owe nothing to the realm of corruption and generation, the realm of the actual; they must derive from a faculty of reason that is “pure”. The universal and necessary validity of pure reason’s concepts and laws is for Kant secured by their independence of everything empirical, that is, by their status as a priori. As I have been suggesting throughout this work, it is crucial that we understand Hegel’s thesis about the actuality of the rational as evidence of his rejection of the Kantian a priori (the Kantian alternative to positivism). Hegel follows Kant this far: our laws and concepts of reason do not reduce to what is. Hegel therefore preserves some kind of gap between what is and what ought to be. But he denies that the gap is radical (or that it should be understood as an “absolute” opposition or heterogeneity218). Norms of reason do not in his view reduce to what is, but—­as

218  For references, see note 213.

164  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit I argued back in section 6.2—nor do they originate in a Platonic heaven or in a rational faculty that has been completely purged of anything empirical. Although independent from what is, rational norms are not for Hegel wholly independent. The relationship between what is actual and what is rational is one of in­ter­de­ pend­ence rather than of absolute opposition. Hegel’s account of this relationship indeed mirrors his treatment of the fundamentally interdependent components of human cognition. He is on the one hand committed to the assumption that it is naïve to suppose that we can be consciously aware of objects of sense without the mediation of concepts. But he also holds, on the other, that it is equally misguided to suppose that the concepts we bring to the activity of thinking and knowing are wholly a priori or pure. Norms and concepts of reason are a priori, for Hegel, but they lack: absolute a priority. To express the point differently, rational norms on his account are somehow both a priori and temporally or historically conditioned. Just as his “philosophic” history is a hybrid of a priori and empirical methods, so are rational norms in his view at once a priori and temporally conditioned. As in the case of his knowability thesis, then, Hegel’s realizability thesis rests on a commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of thought. His insistence upon the rationality of the actual does not imply that he either willfully ignores or is blind to the bleak realities of human history, nor is it evidence that he is engaged in the positivist project of reducing rational norms to what is. Rather, Hegel’s paradoxical formulation, “what is rational is actual; what is actual is rational”, is meant to jolt us into thinking about these concepts in a new way. The actual is rational, according to Hegel, because the facts of human history cannot for any thinker or historian be bare facts. Without conceptual mediation, what is actual could not be transformed from a series of merely externally related or disconnected happenings into possible objects of awareness or reflection. Without concepts, we could neither experience nor reflect upon necessary connection; nothing in our thought or experience could exhibit a narrative form. As for the claim that what is rational is actual, Hegel’s message is that the concepts responsible for that form are not generated by disembodied thinkers inhabiting an extra-­ temporal vantage point. We reflect on what is from where we are; we rely on the evidence available to us and on conceptual and methodological tools that—­far from produced by acts of pure spontaneity—­have a history. The norms we apply in considering what is and in judging Spirit’s progress invariably bare traces of the labors of our ancestors. We can add to these reasons for attributing this interpretation to Hegel the many passages in which he explicitly calls attention to philosophy’s debt to its history. In his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, for instance, he remarks that “nothing in the past is lost to philosophy”, and that the “phases that Spirit seems to have left behind, it also possesses in the depth of its present” (PH 82/105). Hegel’s message here, once again, is that Spirit does not generate its ideas or

Thought ’ s Temporality  165 concepts or normative standards from nowhere. It takes what comes before and “reworks [verarbeitet] it”, as he says, so that “whatever went before is the material for what comes after” (PH 76/98; my emphasis). The “present form of Spirit” can for this reason be said to contain “all the earlier stages within itself ” (PH 82/105). Hegel’s philosophy of history, like all philosophical systems, is in this respect a “result [Resultat]” of those that precede it (EL §13). The interpretation I have just defended is further supported by Hegel’s characterization of his own rational reconstruction of the progress of Spirit as itself an “outcome of the study of history” (PH 13/22). His reconstruction relies on history for its data, and history has a role to play as well in the kind of justification Hegel believes he can provide in support of his reconstructive story. As we know, his evidence can be neither pure reason nor intellectual intuition. What he tells us is that, in his “philosophic” reconstruction and assessment of the journey of Spirit, he has nothing to rely on but world history itself (PR §341). World history presents Hegel with a series of conceptions of what is right and ethical, manifested in social institutions and practices. It reveals progressive development in the idea of freedom and in our standard for assessing whether our practices and institutions live up to that idea. World history in other words teaches us that Spirit’s content—­its concepts and laws—­evolves. This evolution reveals that our concepts and norms have humble roots. Even the most stable among them are anchored in what is actual, in the realm of generation and destruction. This may be why, in a revealing Addition in the Encyclopaedia Logic, Hegel is reported as arguing that the “agreement between is and ought is not rigid and unmoving” (§234A).219 We might wonder, once again, about how the interpretation of Hegel’s position I have been defending can be reconciled with passages we considered back in Chapter  3 in which he announces that his rational reconstruction of history is “scientific” and “necessary”, and as such the only adequate reconstruction.220 Hegel does not after all seek merely to convince us that his world history is one plausible version among many. He takes himself to be warranted in asserting that his world history relays the necessary or essential unfolding of the consciousness and development of a specific idea of freedom (PH 68/88). Hegel denies that all interpretations of the course of world history are of equal merit. But if this is so, how can he 219  I cannot resist calling attention to another Hegelian-­sounding passage from Dewey: “The old center was mind knowing by means of an equipment of powers complete within itself, and merely exercised upon an antecedent external material equally complete in itself. The new center is indefinite interactions taking place within a course of nature which is not fixed and complete, but which is capable of direction to new and different results through the mediation of intentional operations. Neither self nor world, neither soul nor nature . . . is the center. There is a moving whole of interacting parts; a center emerges wherever there is effort to change them in a particular direction” (Quest for Certainty, 290f.). 220  See especially sections 3.2 and 3.3 of Chapter 3.

166  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit also hold, as I suggested a moment ago, that there is no one conception of freedom and no uniquely valid normative standard? Hegel undeniably aims to convince us of the superiority of the form of freedom and conception of right that, in his estimation, reflects the spirit of his age. He judges, moreover, that his own philosophic interpretation of world history is valid or true—­at least in a certain respect. His grand narrative deserves to be designated “scientific”, in his estimation, precisely because he gives us compelling reasons in support of it. Obviously, however, everything depends on what Hegel relies on as his evidence for these claims. I have been emphasizing his commitment to the thesis that no thinker can overleap their time. If we take this commitment seriously, then Hegel’s own source of evidence can be neither the light of a pure or transcendent reason nor a form of intuition that is purely intellectual. This does not imply, however, that he holds that his world history rests on no evidence whatsoever. As he says, his evidence is his thoughtful or “philosophic” consideration of world history. But like all thinking animals, Hegel must think from where he is. The upshot is that Hegel holds that rational reconstruction and justification are possible, even though he is persuaded that none of us can fully ascend out of the cave of shadows. Put differently, rational reconstruction and justification are possible even though what is rational, on Hegel’s account, is invariably anchored in and responsive to what is actual. Because no thinker can absolutely transcend what is, no thinker can be warranted in awarding herself extraordinary powers of abstraction. The philosopher’s business is highly abstract, but her methods and evidence share more in common with the methods and evidence of the empirical sciences than she may be inclined to admit.

6.5  Conclusion: A “Rose in the Cross of the Present” These conclusions are unlikely to be welcome to those seeking an absolutely stable basis upon which to rest rational norms and with which to defend a final and definitive narrative of Spirit’s journey. After all, as I am interpreting it, the Hegelian approach to world history does not warrant the comforting thought that some of our norms are timeless truths and as such universally and necessarily valid. Instead, it allows us to assert no more than that our norms are valid relative to a specific historical period or form of life, relative to a particular conception of the rational or the good.221 221  The historical relatively of norms of course raises questions about their possible objectivity, assuming that it is fitting to characterize them as objective at all. Walsh defends the sensible view that although Hegel holds that we consider the past through our own “moral and metaphysical spectacles”, this does not imply that he considers all interpretations of the past to be equally valid (Philosophy of History, 108). We cannot achieve a transhistorical or “God’s-­eye” point of view, but this need not

Thought ’ s Temporality  167 It is an intriguing fact about Hegel that he responds to this situation with equanimity. He even expresses bewilderment at those unnerved by the prospect that “nothing better can be expected here”. Hegel discovers “warmth” in the “peace that cognition establishes with the actual world” (PR 22f./27). From his point of view, philosophy should reconcile itself to the futility of looking beyond the present. It needs to discover “in the semblance of the temporal and transient the substance that is immanent and the eternal which is present” (PR 20/25). Philosophy should acknowledge that reason is “the rose in the cross of the present” (PR 22/26) and draw its inspiration from the “ancients” who counseled us to serenely reconcile ourselves to our destiny (EL §147A). But this accepting attitude is puzzling. I have been arguing in this chapter that, in insisting upon the temporally conditioned nature of thought, Hegel displays his sensitivity to the extent of our finitude and to the role of contingency in generating our ideas and norms of freedom. We might expect that this sensitivity, confronted with the grim reality of the human condition, would give him abundant grounds for despair. Hegel, however, responds otherwise. As we saw back in Chapter 4, he is not moved to join those who hope to satisfy their need for consolation or compensation in a life beyond this life. On the contrary, he seems content to embrace the following two assumptions: The first is the assumption we have just been considering regarding thought’s temporality. Hegel is impatient with those such as Kant who ignore this respect in which our thought is finite, and he takes it to be a bit of vanity or hubris to suppose that our abstractive ­powers are anything other than temporally conditioned. The second assumption, however, seems straightforwardly Kantian. What I have in mind is Hegel’s faith in human reason, his faith in its capacity for self-­governance and self-­correction, and in its drive to propel itself forward and use conflict as an impetus for growth. Hegel awards human reason these properties even though he holds, in sharp contrast to Kant, that our reason is incapable of overreaching its time and of grounding a truly transcendent or extra-­temporal form of freedom. Hegel describes human history as a “slaughterbench”, and yet he is quite content to acknowledge our reason’s limited resources for coping with this cruel fact. Indeed, he insists that even if philosophy could successfully set up a “world beyond [Jenseitigen]”, it has no need to do so (PR 20/24). It has no need, because—­ apart from all the slaughter—­there is in his view a “rose in the cross of the present”. Philosophy should resist engaging in the vain and futile effort to set up a “world beyond”, Hegel urges, because even a reason that is of this world, “is not so powerless so as to arrive at nothing more than the ideal” (PH 12/21).

deprive us of rational standards of assessment. The rationality of our standards, however, must be defended from “inside [a] given set of presuppositions”, 114. Likewise, Houlgate discovers no real tension in Hegel between history and truth. See his rich treatment of these issues in especially Chapter 1 of Freedom, Truth and History.

168  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit This last remark suggests a solution to the puzzle I mentioned a moment ago. Clearly, it is Hegel’s optimism about the capacities of our this-­worldly reason that explains his insistence upon the realizability of our ideals. Hegel’s optimism in other words explains his resistance to Kant’s somber verdict, in Religion Within the Limits of Reason Alone, that the “act . . . of conforming our course of life to the holiness of the law is at no time achievable [in keiner Zeit erreichbar]” (6:66; my emphasis). Hegel’s far more cheerful message is that the “good, the absolute good, fulfills itself eternally in the world, and . . . is already fulfilled in and for itself ” (EL §212A). As long as we bear in mind the remarkable resources of our this-­worldly reason, we can derive comfort from the thought that the world is as it ought to be. It is in any case not within our power to access other worlds, according to Hegel, not even in thought. This actual world is our only world, and we are well advised to reconcile ourselves to it rather than try to rebel against or flee from it. Of course, Hegel can comfortably deliver this advice only because he is persuaded of our finite reason’s self-­corrective properties. I have been arguing that, in certain respects, Hegel is more sensitive to the reality of human finitude than Kant. As we have seen, that greater sensitivity shows up most obviously in his refusal to grant our reason the power to absolutely overreach or detach itself from this actual world. What I am now suggesting, in addition, is that Hegel’s faith in the progressive power of our reason exceeds Kant’s as well. This is because his faith in reason’s formidable “drive toward perfectibility [Trieb der Perfektibilität]” places its trust in a faculty that, by his own lights, is more radically finite (PH 57/74; see also PR §343). To put the point differently, Hegel’s faith in the progressive power of our reason exceeds Kant’s because it is not shaken by his conviction that none of us can transcend our time. Hegel is able to maintain a sanguine outlook about our prospects for self-­perfection even though he urges us to relinquish the fantasy that our reason can ever be absolutely pure.

7

Coda Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit

The moments that Spirit seems to have left behind, it possesses also in the depth of its present [gegenwärtigen Tiefe] (PH 82/105). It has been the principal objective of this book to call attention to Hegel’s ­commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of our thought and freedom. I have argued that the “rational” is anchored in the “actual”, for Hegel, in that our concepts and shapes of freedom do not merely manifest themselves in historical time but also appear in response to what happens in historical time. They are indebted for their nature and origin to the realm of coming and going, of generation and destruction.222 It might be thought that my interpretation implies that, for Hegel, everything is in flux. Not only do stones morph into dust and organisms decay, but our concepts come and go as well—­even the most basic among them. After all, he frequently reminds us that, “[e]verything around us can be considered an example of the dialectical” (EL §81A1). On this reading, Hegel holds that there is no permanence in thought or action whatsoever, and no stability in our systems of thought and sciences, and this must be why he describes thought itself as dialectical (EL §11). Expressed more concisely, my interpretation would seem to imply that the Hegelian system is all Heraclitus and no Parmenides.223 If we draw this implication from the temporality thesis, however, we face the formidable challenge of explaining how it can be consistent with what appear to be a number of further steadfast Hegelian commitments. As we noted in Chapter 6, Hegel assigns permanence (at least, in the form of “necessity”) to his histories of freedom and thought. He unambiguously denies, for example, that any interpretation of the nature of thought and of freedom is as good as any other.

222  This chapter is especially indebted to Stephen Houlgate, who pressed me to clarify my stance on these issues several years ago. I label this chapter a “coda” to the foregoing discussions because the thoughts included here are preliminary and much in need of development. 223  See Hegel’s remarks on Parmenides in LHP I 253f./VGP I 289f. For Parmenides, Being is “what is true” and it is “unchangeable”. The “transient [Veränderliche]” “has no truth”. The reasoning of Parmenides is that of “abstract understanding”, whereas Heraclitus gives us the first appearance of “the philosophical Idea in its speculative form” LHP I 279/VGP I 320.

Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit. Sally Sedgwick, Oxford University Press. © Sally Sedgwick 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192889751.003.0008

170  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit He tells us that his developmental stories are genuinely “scientific” because they are rationally justified and therefore enjoy a certain stability. In Chapter  3, we reviewed passages in which he characterizes his histories as “scientific” for the additional reason that they attend to matters that are essential and lasting rather than accidental and fleeting. As I understand them, however, these specific Hegelian commitments to permanence can be reconciled with the temporality thesis as I have characterized it. Although Hegel wishes us to appreciate that no thinker can overleap their time, he is convinced that he can firmly establish or ground his histories of thought and of Spirit. Likewise, he believes it is possible to coherently assert that the proper task of philosophy is to concern itself with what is permanent or essential without having to endorse a thesis of absolute permanence, that is, without contradicting his thesis that dialectic is in “everything”.224 Still, some may charge that Hegel is more insistent upon the permanence of things than my interpretation can allow for. After all, he hardly seems open to the prospect that his description of the basic logical structure of thought could be false. And although he repeatedly draws our attention to the phenomenon of development not just in nature and human action but also in thought, he never suggests that his definitions of our most basic concepts or categories are revisable. His Logic is a story of progressive transformations in our concepts, from abstract to more concrete; but its basic subject matter, namely the “Concept [Begriff]”, remains the same.225 And although there is development in the history of Spirit as well, in Hegel’s view, he discovers neither change nor development in its “substance” or “essence”. Throughout its history, Spirit’s substance or essence is invariably “freedom” (PH 20/30). My portrayal of Hegel’s commitment to the temporality thesis would in addition appear to be at odds with the many passages in which his insistence upon philosophy’s preoccupation with permanence is meant to convey more than the message that the philosopher, like the scientist, should avoid becoming distracted by accidents of nature and history. Hegel seems intent upon convincing us that there are eternal truths, and that it is the business of philosophy to discover and describe them. Philosophy, in his words, should concern itself with the “eternally [ewig]” or “absolutely [schlechthin] present” (PH 82/105, EL §86A2). Its history is 224  In “Hegel and Historicism”, Stanley Rosen argues that Hegel is committed to a thesis of (what I am here calling) absolute permanence (Clio 7, no. 1 (1977): 33–51). For Rosen, Hegel is not a “genuine historicist” because he would not characterize his Science of Logic as “simply a ‘theory’ [. . .] or the expression of a historical perspective”. Rather, his Logic is “God manifesting as the Absolute” (37). Rosen takes Hegel to draw a sharp divide between human time (the time of nature and of world history) and God’s or the Absolute’s time (the time of eternity). I argue, in contrast, that Hegel can distinguish between historical time and the time of eternity without abandoning his commitment to the temporally conditioned nature of thought and Spirit. 225  Hegel informs us in his Introduction to the Science of Logic that his discussion in that work considers the “whole Concept [Begriff], first as the Concept in the form of being, and second, as the Concept” (SL 61/WL I 58).

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  171 of course its past, but its “true” object is the “eternally present [ewig Gegenwärtigem]” (PH 82/105). The history of philosophy is a “pantheon of divine forms [Pantheon von Göttergestalten]” rather than a “gallery of the eccentricities [Verirrungen] of the human Spirit” (EL §86A2). Spirit, too, has a certain “immortality [Unsterblichkeit]”; it has neither vanished into the past, nor does it exist in the future; Spirit is ever-­present, Hegel observes, because it is “essentially now [wesentlich jetzt]” (PH 82/105). It can hardly be denied, then, that Hegel defends some kind of thesis about the permanence of philosophy, of thought, and Spirit. His system is surely not all Heraclitus and no Parmenides. In this final chapter, I provide further reasons in favor of my proposal that this commitment to permanence is compatible with his endorsement of the assumption that thought and Spirit are temporally conditioned. I begin by reviewing further textual evidence of his commitment to permanence.

7.1  Roles for Permanence in Hegel’s System As I just suggested, Hegel seems persuaded that certain features of thought and Spirit escape time’s corrosive effects. His Logic cannot be properly described, then, as a record of the mere succession of ideas coming and going in historical time. It traces conceptual development and is therefore not about events occurring in historical time at all. Moreover, it lays out stages or moments of something that does not develop, namely the “Concept [Begriff]”. Likewise, the main subject matter of Hegel’s philosophy of history is stable or fixed. Although his philosophic history narrates the course of human affairs unfolding in time, its central focus is Spirit; and the substance or essence of Spirit is invariably freedom. It might not be apparent at first, but even Hegel’s insistence upon the dialectical nature of our concepts rests on a commitment to permanence. He presents his “speculative” system as an advance beyond the “logic of the understanding [Verstandeslogik]”. As he portrays it, the Verstandeslogik clings too tenaciously to the “fixed” nature of concepts; it fails to sufficiently appreciate that the “true nature” of the “determinations of the understanding [Verstandesbestimmungen]” is “dialectic” (EL §81).226 Nonetheless, Hegel takes the dialectical progressions of concepts to be governed by a process of “Aufhebung”—a process that does not just “negate” but “at the same time [zugleich]” “preserves [aufbewahrt]” (PH 81/103). In any dialectical advance, a concept is discovered to contain internal contradiction. Resolving the contradiction results in a transition to a ‘higher’ or more adequate determination. But the transition does not rest on a wholesale annihilation of what came before. The form of freedom enjoyed in ethical life, for instance, is not predicated on the simple negation or destruction of freedom’s 226  It is in the nature of “everything finite” to “supersede itself [sich selbst aufheben]” (EL §81).

172  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit ‘lower’ forms. Even in the final stages of “ethical life”, the free subject’s self-­ understanding remains shaped by the more primitive forms of “morality” and “abstract right”. The free subject that has arrived at the higher level of ethical life still considers itself to be a “person”, that is, a bearer of right. What has changed is that, in ethical life, the subject understands its personhood in a new way. Among other things, it appreciates that its right as a person remains empty or ineffective without the support of certain institutions and practices. In arguing for the superiority of his “speculative” logic to the “logic of the understanding”, then, Hegel’s ambition is not to eliminate permanence altogether. His insistence upon dialectical developments in our concepts is in his view compatible with the assumption that, underlying the various transformations, something stays the same. This is likewise the case regarding his critical treatment of the law of identity. From his dismissive remarks about the law, it is tempting to infer that he means to wage a war on permanence by calling into question the very possibility of fixed meaning. But Hegel never urges us simply to abandon identity (or any of our other fundamental logical laws); his objections are directed, instead, at certain interpretations of the law by those who have not advanced beyond the “logic of the understanding [Verstandeslogik]”. To fill in this complicated story just a bit: one of Hegel’s objections is that those who treat “A is A” as a mere tautology overlook how the very “form” of this proposition “expresses something more than simple, abstract identity” (SL 415/WL II 44).227 The proposition implicitly compares “A” as the subject-­term with “A” as the predicate-­term; the form of the proposition expresses a difference at least in this way. To ignore this difference, Hegel argues, is to treat the law as merely analytic rather than as also synthetic (SL 416/WL II 45).228 Whatever we may in the end conclude about the merits of Hegel’s various objections to the Verstandeslogiks treatment of the law of identity, the point worth underscoring for our purposes is that he nowhere urges us to simply do away

227  Understood in a certain way, Hegel charges, the law of identity expresses only a “formal” or “abstract” truth (SL 414/WL II 42). 228  Here, I skim the surface of an enormously complicated topic—­one that has been extensively treated in the secondary literature. According to Houlgate (1991), Hegel argues that either “A=A” is a mere vacuity (asserting simply that “A” is what it is) or it has determinacy. If “A” is to be minimally determinate, we need to know more than that it is what it is; “A” must be contrasted with “not-­A”. Houlgate points out that one lesson Hegel wishes us to draw from this is that the determination of identity is “inseparable” or “indistinguishable” from the determination of difference, 57. Other illuminating discussions include section IV of Robert Hanna’s paper, “From an Ontological Point of View: Hegel’s Critique of the Common Logic”, Review of Metaphysics 40 (December 1986): 305–338; James Lawler, “Hegel on Logical and Dialectical Contradictions, and Misinterpretations from Bertrand Russell to Lucio Colletti”, Studies in Marxism 10 (Minneapolis: Marxist Educational Press, 1982): 11–44; Paul Redding, Analytic Philosophy and the Return of Hegelian Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), especially Chapter 7; Robert B. Pippin, “Hegel’s Metaphysics and the Problem of Contradiction”, Journal for the History of Philosophy 16 (1978): 301–312, and Chapter 4 of his Hegel’s Realm of Shadows: Logic as Metaphysics in “The Science of Logic” (Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2019).

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  173 with the law.229 He insists that we could not dispense with it even if we wanted to—­not without reducing our utterances to gibberish and thereby destroying a condition of thought itself. He acknowledges the value of the Verstandeslogiks insistence upon precision and fixed meaning. For all its shortcomings, features of this “abstract” logic are “preserved” or “contained [enthalten]” and cannot be “dispensed with” in his “speculative logic” (EL §§80A, 82; see also §36).230 These few cases sufficiently warrant the conclusion that Hegel retains a place for permanence in his system. He embraces the thesis that the very possibility of intelligibility—­and thus of thought itself—­requires permanence or identity, and therefore also absence of contradiction. He is indebted to Parmenides (and Aristotle) at least as far as preserving the conditions of intelligibility is concerned. But obviously, it is not Hegel’s debt to Parmenides or Aristotle—­anymore than it is his debt to the Verstandeslogik—­that captures what is distinctive or innovative about his system. As I mentioned, he intends his speculative logic as an alternative to the logic of the understanding; and a central feature of the latter, as he describes it, is its uncritical treatment of fixed determinations. The logic of the understanding must be “aufgehoben”, Hegel argues, because its dogmatic adherence to fixed determinations blinds it to the extent to which “[e]verything around us can be considered an instance of the dialectical” (EL §81A1).231 Dialectic is “the principle of all movement, all life”; it is “the soul of all true scientific cognition” and a feature of thought in general (EL §81A1). Even those concepts or categories that seem to us the most stable and secure are dialectical or “plastic [plastisch]” (SL 40/WL I 30).232 Hegel’s system—­including his Logic—­is therefore neither all Heraclitus nor all Parmenides but somehow at the same time both. He discovers movement as well as permanence in everything. In discussing the “movement [Bewegung]” of the Concept in particular, he puts the point in this way: in its developmental process, the Concept “remains [bleibt]” “with itself [bei sich selbst]”. It undergoes an “alteration of form [Formveränderung]”, but it takes on no new “content [Inhalt]”

229  This point has gone unappreciated by some distinguished commentators. See, e.g. Bertrand Russell, “On Denoting”, Essays in Analysis (New York: George Braziller, 1973), 110, and Karl Popper, “What is Dialectic?”, Mind 49 (1940): 403–426. 230  As Hanna puts the point, “for Hegel negation is never mere difference without some implicit determinate content or sameness”. In “From an Ontological Point of View,” 332. Lawler, too, emphasizes the indispensability for Hegel of the methods and categories of the “abstract understanding”. In “Hegel on Logical and Dialectical Contradictions”, 17f. 231 Although in this context, Hegel is describing the dialectical nature of everything “finite [Endliches]”, he warns us not to follow the Verstandeslogik in ignoring the dialectical nature of the “infinite [Unendliches]” as well. The finitude of the Verstandeslogik derives from its rigid adherence to the principle of identity, that is, to “fixed determinations” or categories (EL §80); but in Hegel’s view, every concept is a unity containing opposed determinations (see e.g. SL 191/WL I 217). At EL §48, he remarks that, “antinomy finds itself . . . in all objects of all kinds, in all representations [Vorstellungen], concepts and ideas”. For further similar passages, see EL §§81A1, 96A. 232  See also PR §31 where Hegel writes that the “moving principle of the Concept” is “dialectic”.

174  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit (EL §161A). The Logic lays out the Concept’s many forms or determinations, but these are forms or determinations of a content that in some respect stays the same.233

7.2  Further Roles for Permanence As a reminder, my task in this final chapter is to address the following questions: How is thought, for Hegel, not just dialectical but also permanent or fixed? In what respect does he take Spirit to possess permanence as well, such that it is neither merely what “has been” nor “what is not yet” but “essentially now [wesentlich jetzt]” (PH 82/105)? From our foregoing discussion, we can conclude that Hegel does not set out to do away with permanence altogether; he recognizes its necessity as a condition of intelligibility. The logic of the understanding is preserved as a “moment” of his speculative logic at least for this reason. But is the necessity of permanence for Hegel limited to its role in securing intelligibility? Is Hegel’s debt to Parmenides in other words exhausted by this concern? Is the sole explanation for his commitment to the assumption that we need identity and absence of contradiction that he grasps the necessity of fixing the meaning of our terms and of ensuring that our utterances (about Spirit or anything else) make sense? There is reason to suppose that the answer to these questions is “no”, and that Hegel’s insistence upon permanence is motivated by further considerations as well. This is evident, for instance, in passages from his Lectures on the Philosophy of History that we considered back in Chapter  6 in which he characterizes Spirit as “immortal [unsterblich]” and asserts that the phases it seems to have left behind, it “possesses in the depth of its present” (PH 82/105).234 At least in that context, he appears to have something other than conditions of intelligibility in mind. Hegel of course goes to great lengths to call our attention to Spirit’s dialectical fluctuations, to the progressive comings and goings of its multiple forms. World history is the “unfolding [Auslegung] of Spirit in time”; it is an “enormous picture of actions and changes, of infinitely varied formations of peoples, states, individuals— ­in restless succession [rastloser Aufeinanderfolge]” (PH 75/96f.). With each advance, present forms of Spirit vanish into the past like temporal points. When Spirit finally arrives at the stage of ethical life, for example, it is transformed; it no longer takes itself to be a person in precisely the same way that it did in its earlier 233  Ferrarin discovers in remarks such as these evidence of Aristotle’s profound influence on Hegel. See his “Hegel’s Aristotle: Philosophy and Its Time”, 442. Mure discusses the Aristotelean roots of Hegel’s commitment to permanence, in An Introduction to Hegel, 6, 12. He furthermore detects Aristotle’s influence in Hegel’s account of Spirit as “in its essence” that which “is” (and not merely “has”) “activity”, 53. More recently, Hegel’s debt to Aristotle is a theme of Pippin’s Hegel’s Realm of Shadows. 234  Hegel has much to say about the “infinite or eternal [ewig]” as well as “finite [endlich]” nature of time in his philosophy of nature. See, e.g. EN §258R.

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  175 stages of morality and abstract right. Crucially, however, these advances are driven by a process of Aufhebung, a process that preserves as well as negates or destroys. In the course of the forward movement, then, something does not change. Spirit in ethical life still takes itself to be a bearer of right, that is, a person. It identifies itself as a person, although its understanding of its personhood has acquired new depth. This point about how the past is preserved is what I want to explore in this section. As we will see, the permanence Hegel has in mind is not just a condition of intelligibility; it is, in addition, a feature of Spirit’s essence or nature. To clarify how this is so, we need to take a closer look at his remark that, “in the depth of its present”, Spirit possesses the moments or stages it “seems to have left behind”. To begin, it will be useful to consider a fuller excerpt of the passage: Philosophy . . . is concerned with the eternal present. Nothing in the past is lost to philosophy, for the Idea is present, Spirit is immortal, that is, not past and not yet; Spirit is essentially now. It is thus said that the present shape of Spirit contains all earlier stages within itself . . . The moments that Spirit seems to have left behind, it possesses also in the depth of its present.  (PH 82/105)235

What Hegel seems to be telling us here is that although the history of philosophy relays the comings and goings of a series of stages or moments, something does not come and go, namely Spirit; the various stages of Spirit, he goes on to remark, are “only moments [Momente] of the one universal Spirit” (PH 82/104f.). As for what Hegel means by the “one universal Spirit”, he elsewhere defines Spirit’s “substance” or “essence” as freedom (PH 19f./29f.). Spirit’s essence, then, does not change; its forms or shapes come and go, but its essence or content stays the same. Spirit has permanence or “immortality” at least in this respect. Arguably, however, Hegel attributes an additional kind of permanence to Spirit as well. He appears to want to persuade us that it is not just Spirit’s essence or content that endures, but even its form. Given that he holds that the forms or shapes of Spirit come and go, this point is hardly obvious. But Hegel calls our attention to this further kind of permanence when he remarks in the above-­ quoted passage that although Spirit “seems [scheint]” to have left the past behind, in some respect it does not. There is a sense, that is, in which Spirit’s past is always present. Its “present shape”, he continues, “contains all the earlier stages within itself ”. Borrowing Leibnizian language, we can provisionally reformulate Hegel’s message as follows: past stages or shapes of Spirit leave marks and traces on its 235  In the original German, “die Philosophie . . . hat es mit ewig Gegenwärtigem zu tun. Alles ist ihr in der Vergangenheit unverloren, denn die Idee ist present, der Geist unsterblich, d.h. er ist nicht vorbei und ist noch nicht, sondern ist wesentlich jetzt. So ist hiermit schon gesagt, daß die gegenwärtige Gestalt des Geistes alle früheren Stufen in sich begreift . . . Die Momente, die der Geist hinter sich zu haben scheint, hat er auch in seiner gegenwärtigen Tiefe” (PH 82/105).

176  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit present shape. Even Spirit’s multiple forms, forms that appear and then vanish with the passage of time, endure in a certain respect. They do so, because any present form of Spirit bears traces of its past forms. But this thesis, too, is ambiguous. We might take it to imply that, although strictly speaking every temporal point or now vanishes into the past as time marches on, what is past remains present because it leaves behind a residue. If we dig deeply enough beneath our landscapes and cities, we are bound to discover (to the delight of our archaeologists and paleontologists) remnants of days gone by. Likewise, if we subject our present ideas and assumptions to sufficient scrutiny, we can expect to reveal their ties to the past, their intellectual ancestry. Hegel, however, indicates that his message is something other than this. He does so, when he notes that the “present shape” of Spirit “contains all the earlier stages within itself ”. His point is not just that although objects change their form over time, their traces remain because our world is governed by a principle of conservation according to which the quantity of substance remains the same. It is obvious that Hegel has something else in mind when he writes the following: In consuming the shell of its existence, Spirit does not merely pass over to another shell, nor does it emerge merely rejuvenated out of the ashes of its formation [Gestaltung]; rather, it emerges elevated and transfigured, as a purer Spirit. Spirit indeed advances against itself, consumes its own existence, and in so doing, it reworks [verarbeitet] that existence. Its generation [Bildung] becomes the material [Material] with which it labors to advance to a new level.236 (PH 76/98; my emphasis)

In this passage, Hegel calls attention to what he takes to be a necessary condition of Spirit’s progress. Spirit’s earlier shapes are not preserved simply because, although they can be transformed or forgotten, they can never really be destroyed. His point in this passage is that Spirit’s earlier shapes provide “material” by means of which it advances. Past forms of Spirit, then, serve as building blocks out of which present and future forms are generated. In supplying those building blocks, past forms endure—­and can in this respect be said to enjoy a certain “immortality”. The plausibility of this interpretation of the permanence of the past is reinforced by its compatibility with other key Hegelian assumptions. It is consistent, for example, with the role Hegel assigns conflict in Spirit’s progress. On his description, Spirit’s advances do not appear out of nowhere. Modern freedom and self-­ consciousness emerged as responses to perceived inconsistencies and 236  “Der Geist, die Hülle seiner Existenz verzehrend, wander nicht bloß in eine andere Hülle über, noch steht er nur verjüngt aus der Asche seiner Gestaltung auf, sondern er geht erhoben, verklärt, ein reinerer Geist aus derselben hervor. Er tritt allerdings gegen sich auf, verzehrt sein Dasein, aber indem er es verzehrt, verarbeitet er dasselbe, und was seine Bildung ist, wird zum Material, an dem seine Arbeit ihn zu neurer Bildung erhebt” (PH 76/98).

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  177 deficiencies in the aims and assumptions of earlier forms, out of failures of those forms to satisfy Spirit’s demands. The progress that modern freedom has achieved beyond the system of “abstract right”, for instance, is the outcome of Spirit’s recognition that such a system cannot adequately supply the conditions for its freedom. Spirit’s transition to a ‘higher’ level depended upon its discovery that its demand for freedom could not be met by the norms of a state that is “abstract” and, as such, effectively governed “by force [Gewalt]” (PR §93). The Hegelian story of the progress of the Concept follows along similar lines. To again take just a single example, thought’s advance from “pure Being [reines Sein]” to the richer, more determinate concept of “Becoming [Werden]”, rested on its discovery of contradictions that threaten the coherence of its concept of pure Being. These two cases illustrate the well-­appreciated fact that, for Hegel, conflict is a necessary condition of progress. Each new stage in the development of the Concept or Spirit is a reaction rather than a virgin birth. As a reaction, each new stage necessarily depends and builds on the earlier stages. Earlier forms leave permanent marks on later forms, then, not just because they are forms permanently belonging to a single content—­the one history of Spirit or the one history of the Concept. Nor are earlier forms preserved merely because they must conform to a conservation principle that guarantees a quantitative sameness that remains unaffected by any form’s transformations. Earlier forms leave permanent marks, in addition, in that they condition the possibility of advances in the shapes of thought and Spirit. This idea that past forms of Spirit and thought supply building blocks out of which future shapes or forms are generated furthermore gives us a way to explain why Hegel characterizes each progressive stage in philosophy’s history as a “result [Resultat]”: The philosophy that is the latest in time is the result of all the preceding philosophies; and it must therefore contain the principles of all of them; for this reason, it is the most unfolded, the richest, and the most concrete one.  (EL §13)

Berkeley’s idealism signaled a break with Lockean realism, but although Berkeley’s idealism was in some respects radically new, its appearance was a reaction to and therefore conditioned by the system it set out to replace. To a significant extent, that is to say, Locke’s realism set Berkeley’s agenda; it prescribed limits to the problems Berkeley thought he had to solve. In this respect, and in common with any new philosophical system, Berkeley’s idealism was a “result”. Hegel intends us to extract this same message from any advance in the development of thought and Spirit. He explictly describes Spirit as the “result of its activity [Resultat seiner Tätigkeit]” (PH 82/104; see also 35/49).237 Spirit takes the contradictions or 237  Note, as well, Hegel’s description of dialectic. Its “result” is not an “empty, abstract nothing, but the negation of certain determinations, determinations which are on that account contained in the result, because the result is not an immediate [unmittelbares] nothing, but a result” (EL §82).

178  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit deficiencies it discovers in past forms or appearances and “re-­works” or “re-­forms [verarbeitet]” them. Its new forms depend for their very being on its past forms. Hegel describes even the final and “complete” shape of Spirit in this way. “Absolute Spirit” is not the product of an unconditioned act of spontaneity (EL  §379A). It is “complete” in that it apprehends what earlier, finite forms of ­subjective and objective Spirit could not, namely their respective limitations (EL §381A).238 Absolute Spirit is “absolute” in marking the end of a philosophical era, the end of a series of forms it deems to be deficient. In marking the end of an era, its appearance is a culmination or completion [Vollendung].239 As a culmination, however, its appearance is not an absolutely new beginning; rather, it is necessarily indebted to what came before. In this way, the past lives on in the present forms of Spirit and the Concept, and Hegel can therefore argue that there is not just change but also permanence in the shapes of our freedom and thinking. I have been suggesting that, when he asserts that Spirit is “eternal [unsterblich]” because its “present form” “contains all the earlier stages within itself ”, this is the permanence he wishes us to appreciate (PH 82/105).240 Hegel awards permanence a role in his system, then, not just as a condition of fixed meaning or intelligibility; he discovers permanence in the very nature of our thought and Spirit—­in their form as well as content.

7.3  Philosophy’s Debt to Its History Paradoxical as it may seem, it follows from the interpretation I am defending that Hegel’s commitment to permanence is compatible with his temporality thesis. On my reading, the compatibility derives from the fact that his commitment to permanence—­his claim that “[n]othing in the past is lost to philosophy”—is implied by his temporality thesis. As I have portrayed it, Hegel’s temporality thesis sets limits to our powers of abstraction; its central message is that, since each of us 238  See also the final paragraph of the Phenomenology, where Hegel describes the stage of Spirit’s “complete knowing”: “its [the self ’s] consummation [Vollendung] consists in Spirit’s completely knowing what it is, in Spirit knowing its substance” (¶808). 239  In “Hegel on History, Self-­Determination, and the Absolute”, Pinkard suggests that Hegel’s references to the “end” of history refer to the end of a “particular story”, a story that culminates in modernity, 54. This end does not however preclude the possibility of a future different trajectory or of “new and important” events, nor does it imply that Hegel believes all important political questions have been answered, 55. In Hegel and the Idea of Progress, eds A. Melzer, J. Weinberger, and M. Zinman (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1995), 30–58. In my final section, I have more to say about Hegel’s “end of history” thesis. 240  Hegel conveys this message in the final paragraph of the Phenomenology as well. Although each new shape of Spirit’s existence is in some respect a new beginning, and although it may seem “as if [als ob] all that had preceded it were lost to it and as if it were to have learned nothing from the experience of the preceding spirits”, each new beginning in fact builds on the recollection of what came before, and the “inwardizing re-­collection [Er-­innerung] preserves [aufbewahrt] the [prior] experience” (¶808).

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  179 is a “child of our time”, none of us is capable of generating new thoughts or shapes of Spirit from a position outside time. Any philosophical system is likewise “its own time considered in thoughts” (PR Preface 21/26). Correctly understood, this assumption about the temporally conditioned nature of our thinking and willing implies the eternal presence of the past. The assumption has this implication, for Hegel, because it is from the thesis that none of us can “overleap [überspringe]” our time that he extracts the implication that the past is permanently present.241 This interpretation of the temporality thesis, however, presents us with the following challenge: How can it be squared with Hegel’s frequently cited remarks in the final paragraphs of the Phenomenology where he asserts that, at the end of its journey, Spirit has “annulled” or “sublated [aufgehoben]” its “temporal form [Zeitform]” (¶801)? Having achieved “absolute knowledge”, Spirit has, in his words, finally “grasped [erfasst]” or “comprehended [begriffen]” itself (¶801). It achieves absolute knowledge, he therefore seems to imply, only by freeing itself of the fetters of temporality. Perhaps what we should conclude is that Hegelian Spirit can “overleap” its time after all, and that it indeed must do so if it is to reach its final stage of development.242 As compelling as this reading might at first appear, it misconstrues the precise respect in which Hegel takes Spirit to “annul” its temporal form. Central to his discussion in these final pages of the Phenomenology is his distinction between Spirit’s “appearing” or “manifesting” itself and its “comprehending” or ‘conceptually grasping’ itself. The Phenomenology relays the development of Spirit’s various shapes or forms, and Hegel observes in these final pages that Spirit accomplishes its work in “actual history”. He indeed describes history as Spirit “emptied or released [entäußerte] into time” (¶808). Spirit expresses itself in history, and its manifestations are on display in intuitable objects of consciousness—­in the institutions and forms of life that instantiate its multiple stages and that can be temporally located (¶802). Spirit manifests itself, then, in what is intuitively representable; and what is intuitively representable necessarily appears in time. Crucially, however, Hegel indicates in the passage from ¶801 that the path to the final moment of Spirit’s journey requires more than the mere ‘appearing’ of  Spirit. Spirit achieves its “higher form” of “absolute knowing” only when it 241  It is not merely the case for Hegel, then, that no thinker can transcend the present; no thinker can transcend the past either. 242  These remarks have of course inspired extensive commentary and criticism. In ¶82 of Being and Time, Martin Heidegger seems to take them to imply the “banishment of temporality” from the Hegelian stage of absolute knowledge. (See Malabou’s critical treatment of Heidegger’s interpretation in The Future of Hegel, 127–129.) John McTaggart Ellis McTaggart writes of the “hopeless difficulty” of the proposal that Hegel’s “Absolute Idea develops in time”, in Studies in Hegel’s Dialectic (New York: Russell & Russell, 1964), 160. On his reading, Hegel’s “Absolute Idea” exists “eternally in its full completeness, and the succession of events in time [is] something which has no part as such in any such ultimate system of the universe”; there can therefore be no “steps after the Absolute Idea”, 157f. In contrast, I argue in this section that Hegel is committed both to the non-­temporal nature of Spirit and thought, in certain respects, and to their temporality in other respects.

180  Time and History in Hegelian Thought and Spirit “inwardizes” and “recollects” its experience (¶808). To arrive at this stage, it must comprehensively “grasp itself [sich selbst erfaßt]”.243 This grasping is a form of self-­ absorption in which, as he puts it, Spirit “forsakes its own existence” and “sublates its temporal form” (¶¶801, 808).244 But in precisely what way do acts of conceptual grasping “sublate” or “annul” time? Hegel’s answer to this question rests on the premise that acts of thinking are qualitatively different in nature than intuitive representations or appearances. Strictly speaking, an intuitable object is a temporally locatable singular representation. This is the case whether it is an object of pure intution (such as the geometer’s triangle) or an object of empirical intuition (a perceivable object). Although the (pure or empirical) intuition of objects requires concepts, concepts themselves are universal or general representations. That is, our concepts pick out classes or kinds rather than individuals, and classes or kinds cannot appear. As Hegel remarks in the Encyclopedia, the “universal cannot be grasped by the senses”; the “kind as such cannot be perceived” (EL §21A). Hegel returns to these points in the final paragraphs of his Introduction to the Lectures on the Philosophy of History. As “finite”, individual existing objects and events come and go; they are subject to what he describes as the “devouring activity [Verschlingen] of time” (PH 80/102). Thought, however, is “the universal, the species that does not die but retains its self-­identity” (PH 81/103). Although all thinking occurs in time, and although our thought determinations or concepts contain “negativity” or “plasticity” and are as such capable of development in response to what appears in time, acts of thinking nevertheless ‘annul’ time in a certain respect. They do so, because we think by means of concepts, and concepts are universals rather than intuitable representations. In thinking or conceptually grasping, we abstract from what is intuitively representable and thereby “annul” time.245 243  Hegel makes similar remarks in the Lectures on the Philosophy of History. Spirit manifests itself in time, but in recollecting its experience, it comprehends or knows itself as that whch appears (PH 82/105). Indeed, the “highest achievement of Spirit . . . is to know itself, to bring itself not only to the intuition [Anschauung] of itself but also to the thought of itself ” (PH 75/96). In a rich discussion, Michael Murray argues that Hegelian Spirit achieves absolute knowledge when it grasps itself not just as capable of appearing in time but also “as Time”, that is, when it knows that time is the “substance and content of its reality”. In “Time in Hegel’s ‘Phenomenology of Spirit’”, Review of Metaphysics 34, no. 4 (1981): 702. 244  Once again, we find a similar formulation in the Lectures. When Spirit thinks of its being, it “grasps [erfaßt] its own universality” and thereby “destroys [zerstört] the particular determinacy of its being” (PH 81/104). 245 Hegel makes this point explicitly at EL §20, where he writes that “determinations [Vorstellungen]” such as “right” and “duty” and “God” “appear somehow in time, one after the other; but their content [Inhalt] is not itself represented as affected by time, as passing away and changing in it”. My interpretation of the way in which Hegel understands thinking to “annul” time seems to be shared by Angelica Nuzzo in her fascinating study, Memory, History, Justice in Hegel (New York and London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012). Nuzzo relies on the distinction between intuitive and conceptual forms of representation to defend her thesis that the final passages of the PhG mark a transition from one model of thinking about history (in the PhG) to another (in the Logic). She describes the idea of a history in the PhG as itself “generated by . . . phenomenological development”; in the Logic, however, what we have is “a new beginning, one made possible by an idea or concept, that is, by the fruit

Coda: Permanence in Hegelian Thought and Spirit  181 When Hegel writes, then, that in grasping or comprehending itself, Spirit annuls or sublates its temporal form, we need not take him to imply that Spirit casts off its temporality altogether. As a “genus or type [Gattung], that is, as a universal”, Spirit cannot die a “natural death”; it therefore enjoys a certain permanence or immortality (PH 78f./100f.). Hegel can maintain this thesis without contradicting his further assumptions that all our thinking and willing occurs or is expressed in time, and that our forms of thought and Spirit develop in response to what happens in time. When Hegel asserts that Spirit annuls its temporality when (in “absolute knowing”) it finally grasps or comprehends itself, he therefore says nothing that conflicts with his thesis that Spirit’s present forms are necessarily indebted to its past.246 I began in this book by proposing that the “philosophic” method Hegel lays out in his Lectures on the Philosophy of History gives us clues to his general account of the temporally conditioned nature of thought and Spirit. As we saw, he characterizes his philosophic approach to world history as both a priori and a posteriori; it is a hybrid of “original” and “reflective” methods. Hegel’s approach is a priori, I have argued, insofar as it is faithful to the assumption that the philosopher is not in the business of simply recording the results of unmediated, passive observation. In common with any thinker, the philosopher necessarily interprets, finds patterns in the chaos, and sets out to construct a narrative. The Hegelian philosophic approach is not purely a priori, however, because although we must construct our narratives by means of concepts, including basic concepts constitutive of all acts of thinking, the development and interpretation even of these most fundamental concepts is responsive to real actions and events occurring in historical time. Hegel’s idea of world history is not purely a priori, then, because it cannot be generated out of a wholly transcendent or extra-­temporal form of spontaneity. Although critical and reflective, the idea is necessarily temporally conditioned. In this respect, it is the “result” of “all the systems that came before it”.

disclosed in Spirit’s absolute knowing”. What Spirit absolutely knows, Nuzzo argues, is that “the generative forces of history are the principle of justice and the force of contradiction”, 2. This knowledge marks the transition to an “atemporal realm” “detached from history” because although it is knowledge resulting from actual phenomenological development, it generates an idea: a “fixed image” or “unitary collective picture”, 10. In this respect, the PhG ends with a ‘disengagement’ from history and transition to the “atemporal and ahistorical element of the logic”, 108. See also Nuzzo’s remarks on Hegel’s use of the distinction between intuitive and conceptual modes of representation, 47–48. 246  As for the suggestion that Hegel holds that there can be no further development beyond the stage of “absolute knowledge”, note his observation in the Lectures that even when Spirit reaches its “highest” achievement and “knows itself ”, this accomplishment is “at the same time its decline [Untergang]” in that it makes way for “another Spirit to come forward, another world-­historical people, another epoch of world history” (PH 75/96). At PH 28/40, he describes world history as “still on the march [noch im Fortschreiten begriffenen Gange]”. This issue has been extensively treated in the secondary literature, but for recent and balanced summaries of the controversy, see Chapter  11 of McCarney’s, Hegel on History (2000); the first part of Dale’s Hegel, the End of History, and the Future (2014); and Philip  T.  Grier’s “The End of History and the Return of History”, in Stewart (ed.), The Hegel Myths and Legends (1996), 183–198.

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Works Cited  189 Zuckert, Rachel (2007), Kant on Beauty and Biology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). Zuckert, Rachel (2010), “History, Biology, and Philosophical Anthropology in Kant and Herder”, in Fred Rush and Jürgen Stolzenberg (eds), Internationales Jahrbuch des Deutschen Idealismus/International Yearbook of German Idealism 8 (Berlin and Boston: Walter de Gruyter Verlag): 38–59. Zuckert, Rachel (2019), Herder’s Naturalist Aesthetics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).

Index For the benefit of digital users, indexed terms that span two pages (e.g., 52–53) may, on occasion, appear on only one of those pages. Absolute  135 n. 190, 170 n. 224 knowledge  142 n. 197, 147, 151–4, 158 n. 213, 179–81 Spirit 178 action, psychological view of  75–6 actuality; see also rationality as content of philosophy  72–3 of the rational  19, 161–6 agency; see freedom Alznauer, Mark  76 n. 100, 133 n. 188 Ameriks, Karl  26 n. 35, 32 n. 46, 60 n. 81, 62 n. 83, 133 n. 187 Anaxagoras  78, 100–101, 140 animal, non-human  121; see also instinct as idealist  119 n. 161 capacities of  5, 29, 36, 118–23 innocence of  121 antinomy  125, 173 n. 231; see also contradiction Apel, Karl-Otto  148 n. 205 appearance Kantian  81 n. 105, 149, 152–3 versus thing in itself  142, 147 Aristotle  78 n. 103, 80 n. 104, 173 Aurelius, Marcus  105 n. 148; see also stoicism autonomy of thought  160; see also freedom Avineri, Shlomo  7 n. 11, 109 n. 152 Beiser, Frederick C.  3 n. 3, 11 n. 18, 12 n. 19, 60 n. 81 Bildungsroman 1 Bienenstock, Myriam  46 n. 65 Bittner, Rüdiger  43 n. 61 Boyle, Matthew  78 n. 103, 123 n. 169 Brandom, Robert  3 n. 6, 155 n. 210, 156, 161 n. 216 Burbridge, John W.  4 n. 8 categorical imperative  6 n. 10, 149–50, 156 n. 211 causality external or mechanical  25–6, 79–84, 100 non-natural or spontaneous  25, 80 purposive  24–6, 35, 79–84; see also purpose, causality of 100

chance  2, 14–5, 24, 35, 78–80, 83–4, 96 chaos  22, 36, 181 Christianity  47 n. 68, 102–4 and finite subjectivity  103, 104 n. 147 as doctrine of consolation  102, 107 externality or positivity of  104 n. 145, 107 chronology, as ordering principle  86–7 civil society  30 n. 42, 77–8, 100 Concept, Hegelian  1, 11, 134, 170 n. 225, 173–4, 177–8 concept plasticity of  143, 180 subjective  59, 66, 86 n. 122, 93–5, 158–160 versus intuition  59, 152, 180 conflict, as engine of progress  19, 28, 37, 120 n. 162, 130–31, 176–7; see also war contingency  4, 16, 68–9, 72–3, 79, 92–3, 96, 113–8, 128, 133–6 mere appearance of  15–6, 68 n. 89, 139–140 contradiction 173–4; see also antinomy in philosophic history  48, 57–65, 114, 158–160 critique, Kantian  19 Croce, Benedetto  160 n. 215 Dale, Eric Michael  12 n. 19, 52 n. 73, 181 n. 246 Deligiorgi, Katerina  20 n. 26 DeVries, Willem  161 n. 216 Dewey, John  3, 161 n. 216, 165 n. 219 dialectic  177 n. 237 in everything  1, 12, 17, 156–7, 169–173 dualism  104 n. 145 between ‘is’ and ‘ought’  7, 163 Emundts, Dina  161 n. 216 Enlightenment  22, 31, 62, 75 n. 94, 150 n. 207 Epicurus  78–9, 84, 91, 101 ethical life  104 n. 145, 127, 171–2, 174–5 Eurocentrism  8 n. 15, 47 n. 68 explanation 78–97 mechanical or external  25, 32 n. 46, 35, 78–84, 94 n. 131, 101; see also causality

192 Index Fackenheim, Emil  4 n. 8, 5 n. 9, 27 n. 38, 103 n. 142, 106 n. 151, 111 n. 155, 157 n. 212 fatalism  14, 70–72, 98, 101, 113–6, 137, 140; see also necessity fate; see also Providence ancient conception of  101–8, 140, 165 blind  14, 99–103, 106–7, 116, 137, 141 Christian or modern conception of  15, 101–8, 140 external  100–102, 115, 137, 141 Ferrarin, Alfredo  80 n. 104, 157 n. 212, 174 n. 233 Feuerbach, Ludwig  110 n. 153, 124 n. 172 finitude epistemological  19, 30, 65 n. 88, 173 n. 231 moral  13, 39 of freedom  18 of reason  13, 19, 33 n. 47, 40 n. 57 formalism, empty  6 n. 10, 156 n. 211 Forster, Michael  52 n. 73 freedom; see also causality as realizable  95, 141 as transformative  14–5, 21, 112–6, 137–8, 145 formal 125 given versus achieved  124–7, 132–3 noumenal or transcendental  42, 117 of the will  21, 120–22; see also will, freedom of Freud, Sigmund  7, 124 n. 172 Gans, Eduard  46 n. 65 God  3, 24, 38–41, 63, 70, 98, 103, 106, 139–40; see also intellect, divine Grégoire, Franz  109 n. 152 Grier, Michelle  82 n. 108 Grier, Philip T.  181 n. 246 Halbig, Christoph  88 n. 126 Hanna, Robert  172 n. 228 happiness, as goal of world history  78, 88, 93 Haym, Rudolph  7 n. 11 Heidegger, Martin  179 n. 242 Henrich, Dieter  4–5 n. 8, 114 n. 157 Heraclitus  12, 169, 171, 173 Herder, Johann Gottfried  25 n. 33, 32 n. 45, 32 n. 46, 52 n. 73, 62 n. 83 hero, of history  53, 74–6, 87, 145 historiography 53; see also history, reflective history empirical or mechanical  22, 33, 61 original  48–9, 158–9 philosophic  56–7, 113–4, 158–61 pragmatic  51–3, 56, 65, 76 n. 99, 87–8 reflective  50–56, 158–9

historicism  6, 12 n. 20, 26 n. 35, 170 n. 224 hope  23, 33, 67 Houlgate, Stephen  3 n. 6, 4 n. 8, 5 n. 9, 12 n. 19, 106 n. 151, 155 n. 210, 166 n. 221, 169 n. 222 Hume, David  92 n. 129 Hyppolite, Jean  106 n. 151 idea Kantian  25, 32, 67–8, 152 speculative  25 n. 33 idealism Hegel’s absolute  110 Kant’s transcendental  95, 140 identity law or principle of  17, 172–3 of the empirical and the a priori  9 inclination, animal  29, 34; see also instinct intellect discursive 110 divine or intuitive  3, 148–9; see also God instinct  21, 26–7, 36, 119–23, 141; see also inclination Jaeschke, Walter  5 n. 9, 11 n. 18, 12 n. 19, 23 n. 30, 46 n. 66, 106 n. 151 Kepler, Johannes  22 Khurana, Thomas  123 n. 169 Kleingeld, Pauline  30 n. 42 Kojève, Alexander  7 n. 11 Kolb, David  80 n. 104, 86 n. 123 knowledge absolute, Hegelian  16 n. 22, 142, 147, 151–4, 158, 179–81 absolute, Kantian  16, 64, 153 Kreines, James  78 n. 103, 84 n. 116 Kuhn, Manfred  22 n. 28, 34 n. 49 Kuukkanen, Jouni-Matti  60 n. 81 Langton, Rae  35 n. 50 Lawler, James  172 n. 228 Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm  148–9, 148 n. 206 logic of the understanding  171–3 speculative 171–4 Lu-Adler, Huaping  133 n. 187 Malabou, Catherine  4 n. 8, 143 n. 200 Marx, Karl  7 n. 13, 110 n. 153, 111, 124 n. 172, 148 n. 205 matter  71, 79, 94 n. 131, 118 n. 159 as external  101, 118 n. 159 McCarney, Joseph  5 n. 9, 8 n. 15, 12 n. 19, 46 n. 65, 47 n. 68, 102 n. 140, 106 n. 150, 181 n. 246

Index  193 McCumber, John  148 n. 206 McDowell, John  4 n. 7, 127 n. 174, 133 n. 188, 144 n. 202 McTaggart, John McTaggart Ellis  179 n. 242 mechanism  79–84, 91–3; see also explanation Mills, Nicolás García  124 n. 171 Moland, Lydia  102 n. 140 monism 5 Montesquieu  51–2, 54 n. 76 Mure, Geoffrey R.G.  80 n. 104, 128 n. 176 Murray, Michael  180 n. 243 narration, possibility of  22, 26, 35–6, 53, 59, 79, 83 naturalism  5 n. 9, 6 nature; see also causality as a mechanism; see mechanism as purposive  25–6, 82–3; see also purpose, in or of nature state of  60, 77, 126, 130–31 necessity; see also fatalism ancient conception of  101–8, 140 conceptual or logical  70, 72–3, 90 modern or Christian conception of  101–8, 140 of Spirit’s development  11, 135 Ng, Karen  8 n. 14, 84 n. 116, 96 n. 135 Nietzsche, Friedrich  7, 65 n. 88, 124 n. 172 noumenon  6, 15, 41–2; see also thing in itself Nuzzo, Angelica  180 n. 245 O’Brien, George Dennis  46 n. 65, 48 n. 70, 49 n. 71, 51 n. 72, 53 n. 75 objectivity aim of  58, 140, 144 of ideas  14, 94–6, 166 n. 221 optimism Hegel’s  19, 36, 108–9, 112, 143, 168 Kant’s  19, 30, 34, 36 Panglossian  108–9, 112 organism, self-motion of  94, 118–9, 135 Parmenides  156, 169, 169 n. 223, 171, 173 Petry, Michael  85 n. 119 Pinkard, Terry  5 n. 9, 8 n. 15, 42 n. 60, 45 n. 64, 47 n. 68, 60 n. 81, 75 n. 97, 88 n. 127, 123 n. 170, 136 n. 191, 178 n. 239 Pippin, Robert  4 n.7, 42 n. 60, 127 n. 174, 144 n. 202, 174 n. 233 Plato  133 n. 187 Pompa, Leon  49 n. 71 Popper, Karl  7 n. 11, 173 n. 229 Posch, Thomas  73 n. 93 positivity of Christianity  104 n. 145

of norms  7, 162–3 of science  85–8, 92–3, 113, 162 Providence  18, 34 n. 49, 37–42, 63, 68–70, 98–100, 105 n. 148, 133, 140, 142, 147, 152, 160–1; see also fate purpose; see also teleology causality of  25–6, 35, 79–85, 100–1; see also causality, purposive external versus internal  89–95 in or of nature  26 n. 34, 38–9, 83–5, 94 Kantian idea of  25–6, 93–5 objective versus subjective  93–5 Purtschert, Patricia  8 n. 15 racism  8 n. 15 Ranke, Leopold von  60 n. 81 rationality of the actual  24, 39, 43–4, 100–1, 109, 142 finite  30, 31 n. 44 reason as dialectical  156–7, 173 as finite or imperfect; see rationality, finite as free; see causality, non-natural or spontaneous common human  133 n. 187 cunning of  37–8 pure  41–2, 62–6, 123–4, 152, 160, 163 Redding, Paul  4 n. 8, 172 n. 228 Rosen, Michael  12 n. 19, 52 n. 73 Rosen, Stanley  12 n. 20, 170 n. 224 Ross, Nathan  84 n. 116, 92 n. 129 Rousseau  28 n. 40, 132 n. 184 Russell, Bertrand  173 n. 229 Sandkaulen, Birgit  9 n. 16 Schelling, F.W.J.  7 n. 11 Schlegel, Friedrich  60 n. 81 Schneewind, J.B.  43 n. 61 self-consciousness capacity of  71, 176–7 Spirit’s  99 n. 137 Sellars, Wilfrid  144 n. 202 Shell, Susan  33 n. 47, 43 n. 63 skepticism about knowledge  44, 160 about reason  68, 124 n. 172 slavery  110–1, 124–5 Sloan, Phillip  133 n. 187 sociability, unsocial  28–9, 37, 37 n. 53 speculative philosophy  25 n. 33, 172–5 Speight, Allen  129 n. 178 Spirit essence of  36, 46, 71, 78 immortality of  17, 104 n. 145, 171, 175–7, 181 spontaneity, capacity of  117, 164, 178, 181

194 Index state ethical  77–8, 126–7, 130, 165, 171–2, 174–5 original or natural  29 n. 41, 77, 126, 130–1 Stern, Robert  161 n. 216 Stewart, Jon  7 n. 11 stoicism  105 n. 148, 107, 109–12, 115, 128–9; see also Aurelius, Marcus Stone, Alison  125 n. 173 subjectivity of concepts  54, 59, 98, 159–61 of drives  75, 88, 154 of Kantian freedom  14, 132 n. 184 of Kant’s system  59, 81 n. 105, 86 n. 122, 93, 95, 140 n. 195 of knowledge  58, 64 n. 87, 93 of reflective history  66 supreme being; see God teleology  79, 84, 86, 89; see also purpose, causality of of history  20 n. 26, 24–8 theodicy  3, 14, 139 thing in itself  10, 140 n. 195, 142, 147–52, 161; see also noumenon

unsocial sociability  28–9, 37, 37 n. 53 vanity  21, 27, 40, 64, 77 n. 102, 153, 154 n. 209, 167 Walsh, W.H.  20 n. 26, 22 n. 28, 32 n. 45 war, as means of progress  28, 37, 77 n. 102; see also conflict Waszek, Norbert  46 n. 65 will, freedom of  21, 120–23, 132 n. 185; see also freedom as a drive  122 as a mode of thought  10, 121–2, 144–5 as principle of the state  132 n. 184 substantial 76 Wood, Allen  7 n. 13, 20 n. 26, 28 n. 39, 32 n. 46 Yovel, Yirmiyahu  20 n. 26, 35 n. 50, 37 n. 53, 40 n. 57, 41 n. 59, 43 n. 62 Zammito, John H.  32 n. 46 Zuckert, Rachel  32 n. 46, 52 n. 73