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The Problem of Social Consciousness in Our Time
The history of civilized society and the policy which shaped it has
been called by pessimists a sea of blood, dirt and baseness. And if one
takes the development of civilization purely according to the social
results obtained so far, then indeed Gustave Flaubert was right in
greeting the much celebrated “ascent of humanity” with the sarcastic
remark: Hein, le progrès, quelle blague! Et la politique, une belle
saleté! [Progress, what a joke! And politics, what filth!]
No epoch in history, however, seems to have deserved greater contempt
than that in which we live today. In previous epochs, blood, dirt,
baseness and the absence of a meaningful social result could, from a
historio-philosophical point of view, be excused by the lack of knowledge,
foresight, resources and distributable riches, interpreted as shortcomings
which put society on the level of the blind or simply compulsory processes
in nature. No such extenuating circumstances can be found for the present
epoch. On the contrary, the problem which plagues mankind today arises
precisely from the absurdity that, on one side, all that is needed for a
senseful and secure social life is available yet, on the other side,
social life remains what it was: a sea of blood, dirt, baseness,
irrationality and misery. Or to present the same problem in the words of
Max Horkheimer (like his close collaborator, T.W. Adorno, one of the
ablest contemporary thinkers):
The present potentialities of social achievement surpass the
expectations of all the philosophers and statesmen who have ever
outlined in utopian programs the idea of a truly human society. Yet
there is a universal feeling of fear and disillusionment. The hopes of
mankind seem to be farther from fulfillment today than they were even in
the groping epochs when they were first formulated by humanists. It
seems that even as technical knowledge expands the horizon of man’s
thought and activity, his autonomy as an individual, his ability to
resist the growing apparatus of mass manipulation, his power of
imagination, his independent judgment appear to be reduced. Advance in
technical facilities for enlightenment is accompanied by a process of
dehumanization. Thus progress threatens to nullify the very goal it is
supposed to realize — the idea of man. Whether this situation is a
necessary phase in the general ascent of society as a whole, or whether
it will lead to a victorious re-emergence of the neo-barbarism recently
defeated on the battlefields, depends at least in part on our ability to
interpret accurately the profound changes now taking place in the public
mind and in human nature. [M. Horkheimer: Eclipse of Reason,
Oxford University Press.]
Similar formulations could be quoted by the dozen from the high level
of Horkheimer-Adorno down to that of Eric Fromm and the daily press, all
indicating that the decisive problem of our time is, in the last analysis,
a problem of consciousness. Yet they reveal simultaneously that their
authors themselves suffer more or less from the same problem and violate
almost without exception the principle of simplicity of explanation:
Principia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem. Not to speak
of figures like Fromm who feel the need for a “psychological” explanation
besides the economic one and, of course, produce a lot of
conformist ideology — even Horkheimer-Adorno, though extremely critical of
official notions and concepts, produce on related grounds no small amount
of useless scholasticism and operate with such official, untenable and
empty concepts as the “public mind” and “human nature.”[1]
All attempts at giving a “double explanation” (more than is required by
the nature of the case) are punished by sterility and stand in obvious
parallel to the social process, overflowing with possibilities and
delivering only unsolved problems. It is not difficult to see that the
public mind and human nature are but two other problems and
that nothing depends “on our ability to interpret accurately the
profound changes” in them. The task is rather the opposite: to interpret
accurately the, so to say, “behavior” of the mind by determining the
factors on which this behavior depends. If there is any chance for
a cure, one must find the causes of the evil and clearly recognize that
public mind and human nature — as far as one can speak of them at all —
are merely passive reflectors of processes taking place in the outside
world quite independently of what the “public” thinks and a “human”
is. To leave no room for ambiguities: The public mind simply does
not exist, however much ideologists confound it with their own mind and
that of those who make public opinion. Secondly: True social
consciousness, under the conditions of developed capitalism, is obtainable
only by individuals and constitutes therefore a minority-problem in
the strictest sense of the word.
* * *
The highest manifestations of consciousness are to be found in general
in the sciences and in philosophy, and in philosophy there is no other
real choice than that between materialism and idealism. In contrast, then,
to idealistic, “mixed” (agnostic) or “doubled” procedures, the method
employed here consists in a pronounced return to the materialistic (not
simply “economic”) point of view. Its hitherto best expression is the
“well-known” but endlessly distorted thesis of Marx:
The mode of production in material life determines the general
character of the social, political and spiritual processes of life. It
is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but, on
the contrary, their social existence determines their
consciousness.
A hundred years of war against Marx have nearly completely obscured the
fact that his work (above all Capital) contains the whole skeleton
and all the necessary basic material for a social (political)
psychology compared to which “sciences” like mass-psychology, Freudian
sociology or Wissenssoziologie (Sociology of Knowledge) are but a heap of
eclectic rubbish, regardless whether their representatives are Le Bon,
Fromm, Mannheim, Reich or Freud himself.[2]
Besides the thesis quoted above, the leading thoughts of Marx’s
“Psychology” (including the behavior of the mind) can be briefly rendered
as follows:
In capitalist society thinking becomes ideology because it is
determined by the antagonistic production-relations of this society. The
fetish character of commodities (to be dealt with later) veils and
mystifies the essence of phenomena — the fundamental relations are not
transparent and the particular form of the capitalist mode of production
creates the permanent appearance which reflects our entire existence
inverted and transposed. In consequence, being bound to the bourgeoisie or
to the mere way of bourgeois thinking means to have a false consciousness
(identical with ideology) and a perverted consciousness.
Yet out of this elemental sphere of ignorance and unconscious processes
emerges also a conscious motive for keeping consciousness
falsified and perverted. Capitalism is a historical, relative, transitory
form of economy and must give way to a higher form or regress into a new
barbarism, so long as the bourgeoisie insists on its “eternal” validity.
The effect is that the ruling classes and their ideologists lose, in time,
all interest in true cognition and, since such cognition is dangerous to
their very existence, consciously strive to deny its possibility. The loss
of interest in finding the truth (the same truth, by the way, which was
formerly the strongest weapon of the bourgeoisie in its struggle with
feudalism) — this loss of interest assumes, for its part, very early the
form of a special law. It is the law of the dwindling force of
cognition in bourgeois society, and it affects everybody who
has not freed himself completely from official notions or
thought-determinations.
How all these factors became directly manifest in Political Economy as
a bourgeois science (after the crisis of 1830) has been described
by Marx in Preface II of Capital:
It was thenceforth no longer a question whether this theorem or that
was true [!], but whether it was useful or harmful to capital,
expedient or inexpedient, politically dangerous or not. In place of
disinterested enquirers, there were hired prize-fighters; in place of
genuine scientific research, the bad conscience and the evil intent of
apologetic.
However, the crux of the matter is: What Marx states about Political
Economy applies to a greater or lesser extent to all sciences, even to the
most “abstract” ones. There is, on the one hand, the fact that the
development of the sciences provides more and more reliable data of
tremendous fertility (utilized with utmost confidence and accuracy in the
most diverse fields, but especially in the field of warfare) — there is,
on the other hand, the fact that the scientists themselves (physicists,
mathematicians, chemists, biologists, sociologists, positivist
philosophers, etc.) evade important conclusions and turn them into
mysticism, metaphysics, idealism and agnosticism. Today, hardly a
scientist can be named who does not suffer in one way or the other from
defects of consciousness and the incapacity to generalize rationally the
results of his research. Scientists expose themselves as ideologists
until, at the end of a long chain of prize-fighting, eclecticism,
syncretism, evil apologetic and so on, sham-science appears (prototypes:
Keynesian economics and mass-psychology) and the scientific “ideal” is
presented in the image of the stock-market, where gambling decides our
fate:
We no longer regard induction as a method of finding true
conclusions. We know that truth is inaccessible [!] to us; instead,
we regard statements about the physical world as attempts to find the
truth, as trials subject to later correction. . . . We regard
scientific conclusions as posits, that is, statements with which we deal
as if true although we have no proof for them. . . . Scientific inquiry
resembles the method of the gambler: the scientific conclusion is the
best bet the scientist can make. . . . The search for truth is
to be replaced by the search for the best bet; the path of knowledge is
trial and error, and all [!] the scientist can claim is that his
method of foretelling represents the best he can do — there is no
guarantee of success to his work. [Hans Reichenbach: Philosophy and
Physics, University of California Press.]
Clear as is this ideological gambling and its negation of cognition
against all practical evidence, one has nevertheless to avoid the mistake
of vulgar materialists who always establish “direct” relations between the
famous economic basis and its superstructure. Things are not
that simple, and the opponent who replies to Mr. Vulgus that, as a case in
point, scientific observations and calculations have nothing to do with
false consciousness is absolutely right. Scientific data are in themselves
innocent and betray no sign of the “capitalist mode of production.”
Correct facts are to be found in the most corrupted ideologies and will
remain correct facts under any form of society. It is never this or that
correct or false detail, it is always the basic attitude we take,
the special form and meaning things receive at our hands, in which
the influence of our social existence (again: not simply economy) and its
reflection as ideology must be detected. Only if Marx’s thesis itself is
taken correctly and attention is turned from innumerable details (which
can be argued back and forth to no avail for eternities) to the
general character of the processes of life — only then can
the all-pervasive influence of our social existence be properly traced in
whatever field one may choose for investigation.
* * *
What the capitalist system has done to our environment, namely to land,
forests, water, air, animals, plants and so on, is so evident that it
needs no special explanation. Much less obvious are the consequences which
this change of our environment has for ourselves, for our physical and
mental status. Our food is poisoned and constantly deteriorated by
“scientific” methods and processes in agricultural and industrial
production. The driving force behind this sort of production, with science
as its most obedient servant, is by no means satisfaction of our needs and
still less care for our well-being, but profit and relentless competition
in the interest of more profit as a necessity in the “struggle for
life.” The latter is a term highly problematical even in zoology but, in
the evil intent of apologetic, readily applied by scientists and
ideologists to human society in order to reduce the laws by which it is
governed to those of the alleged beast. This application alone speaks
books about our consciousness and intellectual production, especially if
one bears in mind that consciousness includes conscience. The
social process has led to a point where the extremes meet and form,
turning into each other, a unity which can be expressed in the paradoxical
but truly scientific formula: The age of decaying bourgeois society, the
age of science par excellence, is the most unscientific
through which mankind has ever passed, and the law of the dwindling force
of cognition is accompanied by the law of diminishing quality in all
branches of material and spiritual production, characteristically enough
with the exception of production for war.
As for material production, it can clearly be seen that diseases
resulting from “scientific” methods increase constantly and that our very
life is, to boot, threatened by atomic experiments. As for the mental
side, consciousness concerning these facts and the significance of the
whole process is either lacking or falsified, perverted and corrupted,
while morals have been brought to the lowest level ever experienced in
history. The times so remarkable of a society in its ascent, the times
when men died and suffered persecution, isolation and misery for their
ideals, for the love of science, cognition and truth — those golden times
are gone. Nowadays scientists responsible for or involved (objectively
speaking) in production-crimes have rightly been accused in public for
their distortion of scientific facts, for their outright lying and
concealment with respect to the far-reaching consequences which modern
production processes have for us, for their lack of courage to protest and
to tell the truth — which they know.
Yet the matter does not rest there. For instance, what about scientists
who have raised their voices and have protested against the
insanities propelled by their colleagues, by business and government?
Analysis of such protests shows that they are (valuable as they may be in
other connections) nearly always characterized by inconsistency and
confusion. Even in the few exceptional cases where the correct slogan is
adopted and a clear, unconditional stop is demanded, consciousness about
the source of the insanity and the only remedy against it is again
completely lacking or at least not manifested. There is not one scientist
who, after having relieved his conscience, has used his authority to call
upon the people and to engage in a real fight. Inconsistency and moral
cowardice dominate the field — each scientist approached with the demand
to go beyond mere oral protest (which, of course, must remain ineffective
if not driven farther) has answered with evasions or a clear-cut decline.
One was just writing a book or an article in which he would “speak” about
the subject; another had anyway “so much to do” and could not go along; a
third waited for a conference and a fourth perhaps for a genuine American
spring. At all events: Those who had knowledge and authority and
with it the power and the responsibility for action fell back and
left the disquieted people in the lurch.
Then there is the mass of those scientists, scientific workers,
laboratory technicians, teachers, etc., who may or may not “know what is
going on” but are, like the masses themselves, not responsible for our
social existence and its course towards a catastrophe. Concerning this
category it must be pointed out that the consciousness of masses, classes
and social groups in bourgeois society is subject to the law of ignorance
and isolation as the most general and powerful law of our social
existence. The material basis for this law is furnished by the national
and international division of labor and the extreme specialization both of
the sciences and within the sciences in the framework of competition and
the fetish-character of commodities. Modern man is an isolated atom rather
than a fully developed social being; a little screw in a tremendous
mechanism alien to him rather than a self-asserting individual in a
community clearly recognizable in its structure. The slave in ancient
society, ignorant as he may have been, had more knowledge about social
relations than today’s most learned specialists; he, like the serf, knew
exactly who oppressed him, what the nature and the product of his labor
was, what quality it had and how it was used. Philosophers, on the other
side, recognized the limitations of the material development and did not
try to tell the slave that he was a free man sharing equal chances with
all others. The social antagonism was there and found expression in
philosophical materialism and idealism (as said: the only
fundamental attitudes possible), but the limitations of the time
kept both in check. For this reason the opposition between materialism and
idealism did not attain the pointed programmatical form it has at present,
where they meet as deadly enemies in the same way as the contradiction
which they reflect: the contradiction between social production and
private ownership of the means of production. In spite of all intellectual
differentiation arising from the decay of the ancient world, Greek
philosophers were conscious about basic relations and remained naïve
materialists. Hegel quotes Aristotle who, with regard to the relation
between material production and the development of thought, states in
naïve materialist fashion:
It was only after nearly everything that was necessary, and that
pertained to the convenience and intercourse of life, had been obtained,
that people began to trouble themselves about philosophical knowledge. —
In Egypt the mathematical sciences were early developed, because there
the priestly caste at an early period was in such a position as to make
leisure possible.
And Hegel (who had driven his objective idealism to a point
where it turned into materialism) affirms Aristotle:
Indeed, the need to busy oneself with pure thought presupposes a long
stretch of road already traversed by the mind of man. It is, one may
say, the need of a need already satisfied as regards necessaries, the
need of an attained absence of need, of abstraction from the matter of
intuition, imagination and so forth — from the concrete interests of
desire, impulse and will, in which the determinations of thought are
wrapped up and concealed [!].
In general, one can thus say that the dependence of man’s mind
on material conditions was openly recognized. Formulated as theoretical
insight it dominated the spiritual life of former times, and the
objective existence of the natural world around us was, on the whole, not
doubted even by such prominent agnostic philosophers as Hume and Kant.
Unsolved problems notwithstanding: The basic social relations remained
fairly transparent until the bourgeoisie had definitely conquered
political power and firmly established its own mode of production. Up to
this time the bourgeoisie itself had won its battle against feudalism
under the banner of materialism, atheism, reason, science, progress and
optimism.
A decisive change occurred when, with the unfolding of the industrial
revolution and the continental revolution of 1848-1849, hitherto hidden
laws took over with full force. These laws seemed to have a more
supernatural, mysterious, unrecognizable and uncontrollable character than
the unknown will of God, reducing men to mere puppets in an utterly
confused play. A modern author, Edmund Wilson, gives a vivid description
of how Jules Michelet looked at social relations just in the period when
the decisive change took place. Reviewing The People, a little book
Michelet had written not long before 1848, he writes:
The first half, Of Slavery and Hate, contains an analysis of
modern industrial society. Taking the classes up one by one, the author
shows how all are tied into the social-economic web — each,
exploiting or being exploited, and usually both extortionist and victim,
generating by the very activities which are necessary to win its
survival irreconcilable antagonisms with its neighbors, yet unable by
climbing higher in the scale to escape the general degradation.
The peasant, eternally in debt to the professional moneylender or the
lawyer and in continual fear of being dispossessed, envies the
industrial worker. The factory worker, virtually imprisoned and broken
in will by submission to his machines, demoralizing himself still
further by dissipation during the few moments of freedom he is allowed,
envies the worker at a trade. But the apprentice to a trade belongs to
his master, is servant as well as workman, and he is troubled by
bourgeois aspirations. Among the bourgeoisie, on the other hand, the
manufacturer, borrowing from the capitalist and always in danger of
being wrecked on the shoal of overproduction, drives his employees as if
the devil were driving him. He gets to hate them as the only uncertain
element that impairs the perfect functioning of the mechanism; the
workers take it out in hating the foreman. The merchant, under pressure
of his customers, who are eager to get something for nothing, brings
pressure on the manufacturer to supply him with shoddy goods; he leads
perhaps the most miserable existence of all, compelled to be servile to
his customers, hated by and hating his competitors, making nothing,
organizing nothing. The civil servant, underpaid and struggling to keep
up his respectability, always being shifted from place to place, has not
merely to be polite like the tradesman, but to make sure that his
political and religious views do not displease the
administration. And, finally, the bourgeoisie of the leisure class
have tied up their interests with the capitalists, the least
public-spirited members of the nation; and they live in continual
terror of communism. They have now wholly lost touch with the
people. They have shut themselves up in their class; and inside their
doors, locked so tightly, there is nothing but emptiness and chill. [All
emphasis added.]
If this description is less deep than actual (and not only for the
past), it has nevertheless the advantage of an uncorrupted view which
will, as shall be seen, even reach the bottom of the problem, but only to
be completely lost in respect to its solution. Michelet, confronted with
the now fully developed anonymous forces of capital, could not understand
his social existence without specific scientific insights. The insights in
question, however, had not yet been formulated and could not be harvested
in Michelet’s field. What he has to offer for the future of society in the
second half of The People seems thus necessarily “as ridiculous to
us today as the first half seems acute.” To follow Wilson:
Great displays of colored fire are set off, which daze the eye with
crude lurid colors and hide [!] everything they are supposed to
illuminate. The bourgeois has lost touch with the people, Michelet tells
us; he has betrayed his revolutionary tradition. All the classes hate
one another. What is to be done about it, then? We must have love. We
must become as little children; for truth [!], we must go to the
simpleton, even to the patient animal. And Education! — the rich and the
poor must go to school together: the poor must forget their envy; the
rich must forget their pride. And there they must be taught Faith in the
Fatherland. “Here,” Michelet is forced to confess, “a serious objection
arises: ‘How shall I be able to give people faith when I have so little
myself?’ ” “Look into yourself,” he answers, “consider your
children — there you will find France!”
Michelet is, as Wilson remarks, simply “preaching a gospel,” and since
all gospels presented “as remedies for practical evils” are of the same
quality, he reaches at once (Wilson does not say this) the level of the
worst official and unofficial ideology. Yet there is something more, for
if all gospels are alike, the general level is still higher than in 1956.
Wilson notes rightly:
With all this, he says some very searching things, of which he does
not perceive the full implications. “Man has come to form his soul
according to his material situation. What an amazing thing! Now there is
a poor man’s soul, a rich man’s soul, a tradesman’s soul.
. . . Man seems to be only an accessory to his
position.”[3]
And his conception of the people, which at moments sounds mystical,
comes down at the end to something that seems to be synonymous with
humanity: “The people, in its highest idea, is difficult to find in the
people. When I observe it here or there, it is not the people itself,
but some class, some partial form of the people, ephemeral and deformed.
In its authentic form, at its highest power, it is seen only in the man
of genius; in him the great soul resides.”
In Reality, the people being the same empty abstraction as the
public mind and human nature, Michelet identifies the people and humanity
with himself, namely with the “man of genius” who is, according to all
petty-bourgeois ideology, not only the “great soul” and the “authentic
form” of the people, but also the “great exception” to the rule. In other
words: Michelet, once outside his specialty (history proper), could not
evade the laws of bourgeois society and became himself but an accessory to
his position. Like the bourgeois, he not only lost touch with the people,
he also lost contact with current events and connection with other
sciences. He finds the bottom of the problem in saying that man has come
to form his soul according to his material position, yet the implications
escape him and he cannot even embrace Diderot’s view that it is
property (or, for that matter, the absence of property in
the case of the poor) which dominates man and molds his soul. Up to 1848
(roughly speaking) the general trend of thought was that man had come to
master his social existence with the help of reason and science. This was
in line with the revolution in which man seemed to take destiny in his own
hands; it was also in line with the development of the productive forces
and the progress of technology, which seemed to provide him with all he
would need in the future. Now, with the stabilization of bourgeois rule,
it turned out that social existence had mastered man and isolated him
hopelessly from all others with whom he saw himself entangled, in one way
or another and even as worker against worker, in the merciless struggle of
competition. Industry and science benefited the rich, not society as a
whole, and both became instruments of oppression and enslavement. Simple
human and social relations, simple regardless of what could otherwise be
said against them, had imperceptibly changed into a most horrible plague:
relations between things. Money and Capital, the abstract expression of
the new relations, emerged as the sole regulating and connecting factors
in a totally reified society under which the common human ground had
vanished.
* * *
The effect of this change on human consciousness and psychology was
profound and had far-reaching consequences. In fact, psychology became
more and more meaningless in a society in which everything was turned
upside-down and which made man a mere appendage to capital, no matter
whether he was its functionary, parasite or working slave. It is by no
means accidental that Marx and Engels, the only men able to scientifically
analyze what had happened, pushed psychology into the background. Having
with their discoveries freed themselves from social blindness and false
consciousness, they advanced sociology, which explained collective
human behavior on a much broader basis. Wilson (who is quoted here always
for a certain purpose) shows the effect of the new conditions on
consciousness and behavior in several passages concerning Michelet, Taine
and Renan. Stressing the important fact that the enthusiasm for science of
the Enlightenment persisted without the political enthusiasm
of the Enlightenment, he refers to an article of 1898, written on the
occasion of the Michelet centenary, in which it was predicted that the
celebration would not do Michelet justice. Michelet is no longer read, the
author of the article says,
because people no longer understand him. Though he was followed in
his day by the whole generation of 1850, he commits for the skeptical
young man of the end of the century the supreme sin of being an apostle,
a man of passionate feeling and conviction [!]. Michelet created
the religion of the Revolution, and the Revolution is not popular today,
when the Academicians put it in its place, when persons who would have
been nothing without it veil their faces at the thought of the Jacobin
terror, when even those who have nothing against it manage to patronize
it.[4]
Besides, Michelet attacked the priesthood, and the Church is
now [!] treated with respect.
One can detect in these lines how the mechanism of reification,
operating behind the scene and pushing all people with irresistible force
in one direction, dehumanizes society and hardens each individual
position. A kind of social schizophrenia overwhelms the consciousness of
man, manifesting itself first of all in splitting off enthusiasm for
science from its political side, namely the social obligations of
science. One has to be scientific and to behave rationally in order to
make a living and to survive in the competitive struggle, but for the very
same reason one has to shun passionate feeling, conviction, humaneness and
responsibility towards the whole. In a word: One has to behave
unscientifically and irrationally as a human being and thus affirm the
irrationality of the system. This social schizophrenia establishes itself
as a veritable impersonal institution which enforces onesidedness, human
indifference and hypocrisy in every sphere of life. On the one hand, the
bourgeoisie furthers, protects and recognizes only those sciences, ideas,
methods, teachings, arts and so forth which are useful or indispensable
for its own existence, for industry, business and political rule. On the
other hand, much apologetic, confusion, distortion and sham-opposition is
needed for the deception of the people. The bourgeoisie therefore assigns
thousands of specialists to a fixed task, throws thousands of petty and
obedient scholars into the social-economic web, buys off thousands of
“oppositional” politicians, turns thousands of “rebellious” artists and
ideologists into respectable citizens, looks benevolently upon thousands
of apostles, cranks, sect-founders, bohemians, scribblers, reformers and
“radical” fools living like criminals at the verge of society and
cementing its crevices.
Neither nature nor social consciousness tolerates a vacuum, and where
true consciousness is lacking, false consciousness immediately fills the
gap. Criticism of the system is not only permitted but is absolutely
necessary as a safety-valve against too much pressure from within. Such
criticism can even be cogent and sharp in many respects, yet it must never
go too far, never draw the full consequences and, above all, never call
for serious political action, never try to organize intransigent
resistance. The system is syphilitic to the bone, generating scum,
gangsterism and political adventurism on a large scale as the inevitable
symptoms of a deep organic disease. In times of danger it is just the
adventurer who presents himself as the savior of bourgeois society, and it
is precisely with the regime of the first “great” modern adventurer, Louis
Bonaparte, that the final decadence of bourgeois consciousness, thinking
and morality sets in. That the Church is “now” treated with respect is an
understatement when pronounced in 1898. Engels tells somewhere how
hypocrisy was officially inaugurated much earlier by the
“atheistic” bourgeoisie.
In 1848, the workers in France and Germany had become rebellious, and
the bourgeoisie was looking upon the Church as a strong ally. What other
last resource remained for the French and German bourgeois than to
silently drop his “free thinking”? The scoffers, one after the other,
assumed on the outside a pious demeanor, spoke with respect of the Church,
its doctrines and customs, and participated in the latter to the extent
that it was unavoidable. The French bourgeois rejected meat on Friday, the
German bourgeois sweated in their pews through endless Protestant sermons.
They had fallen into ill luck with their materialism. “Religion must be
preserved for the people” — that was the last and only means to save
society from total doom.
* * *
Wilson, following the decline of the revolutionary tradition in this
period, remarks that with Michelet the man has created the mask, but that
for Renan and Taine it is the profession that has made it:
Michelet, the man of an unsettled and a passionate generation, has
forged his own personality, created his own trade and established his
own place. Renan and Taine, on the other hand, are the members of
learned castes. Both, like Michelet, set the search for truth above
personal considerations: Renan . . . left the seminary and stripped off
his robe as soon as he knew that it was impossible for him to accept the
Church’s version of history, and the scandal of the Life of Jesus
cost him his chair at the Collège de France; and the materialist
principles of Taine proved such a stumbling-block to his superiors
throughout his academic career that he was finally obliged to give up
the idea of teaching. But, though rejected by their professional
colleagues, they came before long to be accepted as among the
official [!] wise men of their society, a society now temporarily
stabilized. Both ended as members of the Academy (“When one is
someone, why should one want to be something?” Gustave
Flaubert wondered about Renan) — whereas it is only a few years ago that
Michelet and Quinet were finally given burial in the
Panthéon.
One cannot understand the decline of bourgeois thinking, the corruption
of consciousness in bourgeois society and the atmosphere of general
hypocrisy resulting from the separation of intellectual production from
social praxis, if one does not understand that it is the “intelligentsia”
itself which, with the reification of “profession,” is at the same time
the instigator and the victim of it all. The civil servant has to be
polite and to make sure that his political and religious views do not
displease the administration? Well, the man of spirit is in the same
position and must, still more, not displease his “superiors” and
professional colleagues. They are, in reality, invariably his
inferiors (the great talkers of all Academies, la fadaise
institutionalized!), yet for this very reason they install censorship,
oppression and punishment ahead of the administration. Press, Church,
school, radio, police (NKVD and FBI included) and all the rest of a
formidable apparatus would not suffice to uphold bourgeois rule without
that multicolored army of “authoritative” watchdogs in science,
literature, philosophy and so on which is the true and decisive maker of
“public” opinion. This army is as stupid as the bourgeoisie itself and
often afraid of nothing. It sometimes victimizes intellectuals later
accepted among the “official wise men of their society” and does not
recognize the advantage of certain “deviations” from its standards. At the
end, however, it has the same gigantic stomach as the Catholic Church and
easily digests anything which — does not go too far. Harmless declamations
are indeed useful and an ornament for a ruling class entirely vulgar,
brutal, deceptive and hypocritical. Nothing would be more erroneous than
the belief that those who become something instead of remaining
someone have not fully merited this transformation. After all, did
Renan with his honesty or Taine with his brilliance do anything more than
the man of “good will” who always appears at the right time and in the
right place in order to increase the general confusion, ambiguity and
cheating? What had Renan to offer when “the Revolution of 1848 occurred,
and ‘the problems of socialism,’ as he says, ‘seemed, as it were, to rise
out of the earth and terrify the world’ ”?
What humanity needs is not a political formula or a change of
bureaucracy in office, but “a morality and a faith” [and that is indeed
“something”!]. . . . He continues to hope for progress [and so does Mr.
Muckpie in his “best” moments!]; but it is a hope that still looks to
science without paying much attention to political science, whose
advances, indeed, he tends to disregard, as he says the French
naturalists had done with Darwinism. Where Michelet had forfeited his
posts rather than take the oath of allegiance to Louis Bonaparte, Renan
considered it a matter of no consequence.
Renan reaches the conclusion: “It is clear that for a very long time we
must stand aside from politics,” which means in plain language: It is
clear that we must let the adventurer have his way! (Contrast Quinet, who
is mentioned only in passing by Wilson and who had also lost his position
at the Collège de France and was banished from his country in 1852.) Yet
there is still, says Wilson, an ideal of public service. “Renan ran for
the Chamber of Deputies in 1869 on a platform of ‘No revolution; no war; a
war will be as disastrous as a revolution.’ And when the war was in
progress and the Prussians were besieging Paris, he took an unpopular line
in advocating peace negotiations.”
Standing aside from politics is the great illusion of the man “in
between” who, always a politician, advises, preaches, exhorts and wants
neither war nor revolution in order to get both. Such men, the cursed
“luke-warm” of the Bible, professional recipe-makers by the thousands in
our time (though still smaller ones than Renan), have always a “code” into
which their false consciousness crystallizes and in whose miracle-working
power they sometimes even seriously believe, in no way different from the
belief of so-called primitive people in the power of their fetish. Renan’s
code is “virtue,” on which Wilson appropriately comments:
It is almost as if virtue were with Renan a mere habit which he has
been induced to acquire on false pretenses. Though his devotion had been
at first directed to the ends of the Enlightenment, to the scientific
criticism of the Scriptures which supplemented the polemics of Voltaire,
the Enlightenment itself . . . was in a sense on the wane with the
attainment by the French bourgeoisie of their social-economic objects;
and Renan’s virtue came more and more to seem, not like Michelet’s, a
social engine, but a luminary hung in the void. In a hierarchy of moral
merit drawn up in one of his prefaces, he puts the saint at the top of
the list and the man of action at the bottom: moral excellence, he says,
must always lose something as soon as it enters into practical activity
because it must lend itself to the imperfection of the world. And this
conception gave Michelet concern: he rebuked “the disastrous doctrine,
which our friend Renan has too much commended, that passive internal
freedom, preoccupied with its own salvation, which delivers the world to
evil.” . . . Renan’s emphasis is all on the importance of the calm
pursuit of truth, though the turmoil may be raging around us of those
who are forced [!] to make a practical issue of it. But he corrects
himself: “No, we are posted in sign of war; peace is not our lot.” Yet
the relation between the rioter in the street and the scholar in his
study seems to have completely dissolved.
It is a particularity of all ideologists to say “yes” when they have
said “no,” and then to say “no” again. And it is an eternal truth that
those who preach passive internal freedom or the calm pursuit of truth
(with which they, of course, land in the void) are extremely active in
delivering the world to evil and necessarily extend their own salvation in
the most material sense of the word. In the best of cases (not to speak of
those where sheer hypocrisy and fraud are at work) they never become
conscious that passive internal freedom is an open falsehood if one at the
same time participates in the affairs of the world, publishes books, gives
advice, outlines directions, emphasizes one line against the other,
commends virtue, a morality and a faith (don’t worry which one is the
“calmest” truth!) or does anything outside of his private room. Virtue
under such circumstances is only another commodity among innumerable
sham-products of no use except for the producer and the system which they
support. The calm pursuit of “truth” grounded on fundamental
self-deception thus reflects once more the crack between intellectual
production and social praxis. And whatever school of thought or tendency
one may choose, it is fundamentally the same play over and over again.
Taine, in contrast to Renan who dealt mainly with “ideas,” dwells upon
the mechanical aspect of history and thereby blocks the way to true
consciousness from the other side — an excellent service for a thoroughly
mechanical, blindly operating system. To a friend he wrote in
Renan’s manner: “Political life is forbidden us for perhaps ten years.”
With this self-inflicted “forbidden” he plants instead of “virtue” another
fetish before us: “The only path is pure literature or pure science,” the
self-deception per se. Writes Wilson:
Men like Taine were travelling away from romanticism, . . . and
setting themselves an ideal of objectivity, of exact scientific
observation, which came to be known as Naturalism. Both Renan and Taine
pretend [!] to a detachment quite alien to the fierce partisanship
of a Michelet; and both do a great deal more talking about science. The
science of history is for Taine a pursuit very much less human than it
had been for Michelet. He writes in 1852 of his ambition “to make of
history a science by giving it like the organic world an anatomy and a
physiology.”
The “science” of history follows the dehumanization of society and
takes on an almost gruesome aspect in Taine’s philosophy and program,
fully stated in the introduction to the History of English
Literature. In Wilson’s description:
In dealing with works of literature, “as in any other department, the
only problem is a mechanical one: The total effect is a compound
determined in its entirety by the magnitude and the direction of the
forces which produce it.” The only difference between moral problems and
physical problems is that, in the case of the former, you haven’t the
same instruments of precision to measure the quantities involved. But
“virtue and vice are products like vitriol and sugar”; and all works of
literature may be analyzed in terms of the race, the milieu and the
moment.
Note, says Wilson before, that it is no longer a question of humanity
creating itself, of liberty warring against fatality; but of an automaton
functioning in an automaton. No wonder then that Taine, as the automaton
of the automaton functioning in an automaton, is but pretending when he
pretends to a detachment quite alien to Michelet’s partisanship:
It is in vain that he keeps insisting that his object is purely
scientific, that he is as detached in his attitude toward France as he
would be toward Florence or Athens: The Origins of Contemporary
France has an obvious political purpose.
With this fatal side of all “pure” disciplines, he comes still closer
to reification and loses even refinement in the technique of
self-deception:
By Taine’s time, the amassment of facts for their own [!] sake
was coming to be regarded as one of the proper functions of history; and
Taine was always emphasizing the scientific value of the “little
significant fact” [whose “significance” is usually that of the reified
appearance!]. Here, he says, he will merely present the evidence and
allow us to make our own conclusions; but it never seems to occur to him
that we may ask ourselves who it is that is selecting the evidence and
why he is making this particular choice. It never seems to occur to him
that we may accuse him of having conceived the simplification first and
then having collected the evidence to fit it; or that we may have been
made skeptical at the outset by the very assumption on his part that
there is nothing he cannot catalogue with certainty [he did not yet feel
the need of a Reichenbach to deny certainty!] under a definite
number of heads with Roman numerals, in so complex, so confused, so
disorderly and so rapid a human crisis as the great French
Revolution.
Nothing, it seems, can stop a falling body, especially if its weight is
constantly augmented by the amassment of facts for their own sake. Social
laws are merciless, which in the present case means: Having fallen so far
back in consciousness, the “detachment” of our historian becomes pathetic,
while his interpretation of the “little significant facts” reaches the
border of intentional falsification. It cannot be otherwise, for there is
no other choice for the petty-bourgeois mind than open partisanship of
bourgeois “law and order” and the interpretation of “dangerous” past
events in its sense. Consequently:
Taine plays down the persecutions for religious belief and liberal
thought under the regime of the monarchy and almost succeeds in keeping
them out of his picture; and he tries somehow to convey the impression
that there was nothing more to the capture of the Bastille than a
barbarous and meaningless gesture, by telling us that it contained, at
the time, after all, only seven prisoners, and dwelling on the
misdirected brutalities committed by the mob. Though in some admirable
social-documentary chapters he has shown us the intolerable position of
the peasants, his tone becomes curiously aggrieved as soon as they begin
violating the old laws by seizing estates and stealing bread. Toward the
Federations of 1789, which had so thrilling an effect on Michelet, he
takes an ironic and patronizing tone. The spirit and achievements of the
revolutionary army have been shut out from his scope in advance and are
barely — though more respectfully — touched upon. And the revolutionary
leaders are presented, with hardly a trace of sympathetic insight — from
a strictly zoological point of view, he tells us — as a race of
“crocodiles.”
From a strictly zoological point of view, this judgment is surely the
peak of detachment plus “pure” science, plus “pure” literature. Indeed,
man has come to form his soul according to his material situation! The
problem of his “psychology” has been reduced to a truly mechanical one in
the process of reification: There is nothing of significance in his soul
anymore which cannot directly be traced down to his social existence, his
position and profession. The reduction of his psychology to a mechanical
problem is, in other words, reduction with a vengeance:
The human Proteus, in its disconcerting transformation, has thrown
Taine and sent him away sulky, as soon as he has emerged from his
library. Not only is he horrified by the Marats, but confronted by a
Danton or a Madame Roland, he shrinks [!] at once into professorial
superiority. At the sight of men making fools and brutes of themselves,
even though he himself owes to their struggles his culture and his
privileged position, a remote disapproval chills his tone, all the
bright colors of his fancy go dead. Where is the bold naturalist now who
formerly made such obstinate headway against the squeamishness of
academic circles?
The answer to this question has by now become so obvious that one feels
a little embarrassed to explain: Why, be sits in his studio, where he has
slipped into the skin of the philistine and works hard on his “own,”
“brand new,” “unique,” extremely “superior” gospel, code-fetish and
political recipe. Though the same childish and pretentious nonsense will
be repeated ad nauseam, no self-respecting ideologist can do without it,
and it goes without saying that Taine has to fulfill his duties:
He is pressing upon us a social program which blends strangely the
householder’s timidity with the intellectual’s independence. Don’t let
the State go too far, he pleads: we must, to be sure, maintain the army
and the police to protect us against the foreigner and the ruffian; but
the government must not be allowed to interfere with Honor and
Conscience, Taine’s pet pair of nineteenth-century abstractions, nor
with the private operation of industry, which stimulates individual
initiative and which alone can secure general prosperity.
[Emphasis added.]
One does not know whether to cry or to laugh at this incredible program
— it is only sure that it betrays all of the householder’s timidity with
not one iota of the intellectual’s “independence.” But just because this
independence is a legend spread eagerly by all ideologists, it forms the
basis for their feeling of being the cream of humanity. It could be
demonstrated in hundreds of cases that this complacent feeling grows
stronger the less the single ideologist has to offer and the more servile
he is. There is surely truth in it when Wilson says “that the mobs of the
great Revolution and the revolutionary government of Paris have become
identified now in Taine’s mind with the socialist revolution of the
Commune.” Nevertheless, there is also a quite conscious effort to
discredit possible attempts at a change with the help of an example from
the past presented first in the light of a “particular choice,” secondly
in that of pure “scientific” judgment. Strangely enough, this effort is
tied up with his claim to “superiority,” which crowns the whole edifice
and at first glance seems to contradict the ideologist’s function as
obedient servant of the bourgeoisie. The proof is delivered by Wilson when
he states about Taine:
Like Renan, he has been driven to imagining that his
sole solidarity lies with a small number of superior
persons who have been appointed as the salt of the earth; and
he is even farther than Renan from Michelet’s conception of the truly
superior man as him who represents the people most completely.
[Emphasis added.]
Taine has thus fixed where his sole solidarity lies, which means
that he has said “yes” to his own kind and “no” to the rest. This,
however, is mere imagination and serves the same purpose as the
“left-wing” color which certain ideologists like to display in order to
hide the sad fact that their glorious “independence” lasts only as long as
it costs them not a farthing. As said before: The bourgeoisie and the
“official wise men of their society” are very much pleased with such
imagination, for it deceives a lot of people (one has to take all efforts
of this sort combined!) and breaks or at least diverts their energy. In
spite of that, the servant has to assure his master (the bourgeoisie as
his true “superior” in society) how unshakable his loyalty is. In other
words, he has to declare with whom his real solidarity lies, which
means he has to say “yes” to bourgeois society as a whole and, if need be,
“no” to his own kind. One has, therefore, always to expect a big “but”
which makes things as clear as day and which in the case of Taine
reads:
But, though not much liking his ordinary fellow
bourgeois, he will rise to the defense of the bourgeois law and
order as soon as there seems to be danger of its being shaken
by the wrong kind of superior people. [Emphasis
added.]
With Taine’s division of the superior people into a wrong kind (let’s
say the type of Marx) and a right kind (the type Taine), it becomes plain
that he is quite conscious of what he is doing in misrepresenting the
great French Revolution. Unable to deny that his “crocodiles” are
nevertheless superior people, he knows only too well that he has
surrendered his better ego (the “bold naturalist”) to a bad society for
which the “wrong” kind of superior people are those who seriously disagree
with it. Having betrayed his own kind and ready to betray it again as soon
as there seems to be danger from this side (a danger which will
never end), he fights for bourgeois law and order all along the line.
Under these circumstances, the French Revolution, to which he owes
everything, becomes the personification of his bad conscience against
which (to stress it for psychoanalysts: quite consciously!) he constantly
has to vindicate himself. There has never been an ideologist (the
“ordinary” fellow scribbler is another matter) who is not disturbed by the
fact that be “knows better” than he does and precisely thereby is forced
to build up defenses in the form of distortions, sham-problems, empty
talk, and circular reasoning. Final proof that Taine, too, suffers from
this disease of consciousness is furnished by Wilson’s comment:
Yet something is wrong: his heart is not in this as it was in his
early work. He does not like the old regime; he does not like the
Revolution; he does not like the militaristic France which has been
established by Napoleon and his nephew. And he never lived to write, as
he had planned, the final glorification of the French family, which was
to have given its moral basis to his system, nor the survey of
contemporary France, in which he was apparently to have taken up the
problem of the use and abuse of science: to have shown how, though
beneficial when studied and applied by the elite, it became deadly in
the hands of the vulgar.
* * *
Noting in passing that Taine’s “glorification” of the French family was
an impossible task (it would have been a miserable apology of the petty
bourgeoisie, a monstrous failure), the reasons for following Wilson along
his road can now be enumerated.[5]
First: Wilson demonstrates that he has, concerning the past, a
keen sense of historical development and a sound judgment. So far he
therefore betrays no important signs of a false consciousness.
Second: In a very natural manner he brings to light how the minds of
even “superior” men are molded by events, revolutionary or
post-revolutionary situations, periods of unrest or relative stabilization
— in short: by their social existence and the specific stage of
development it has reached.
Third: He thus exposes how a great historical change which began, as
reflected in the consciousness of enlightened men, with the ideal of
uniting all sciences and of joining them to social praxis (the development
of the social productive forces being the material basis) leads to
political helplessness and its reification by means of abstractions
(Michelet’s “We must have love” and so on, which painfully recall the
abstractions of the Bible).
Fourth: He then exposes how there ensues an ever widening gap between
science and social praxis until complete separation is reached, until
everything is atomized and the “ideal” of “pure” science, “pure”
literature, l’art pour l’art, the amassment of facts for their own
sake and so forth appears as the perfect reflection of the capitalist mode
of production, i.e.: Production for the sake of production or money-making
for the sake of money-making. Michelet, in anticipation of what was much
later to become a direct material possibility but, like the men of the
Enlightenment, deeply impressed by the potentialities of the new
mode of production — Michelet could still write in full sincerity: “Woe be
to him who tries to isolate one department of knowledge from the rest.
. . . All science is one: language, literature and history,
physics, mathematics and philosophy; subjects which seem the most remote
from one another are in reality connected, or rather they all form a
single system.” However, as the heroes of the French Revolution, who
fought for the realization of the ideal of Liberté, Egalité,
Fraternité as the application of “one” science, did not know that they
were working for the establishment of the bourgeois order, so Michelet did
not know that his scientific ideal foreshadowed only the universal spread
of the capitalist system, with the commodity as its “one” unifying
element. If Michelet still sees that men themselves, by the very
activities necessary for their life-process, generate
irreconcilable antagonisms with their neighbors yet cannot, by climbing
higher in the scale, escape the general degradation, Renan and Taine are
already advanced personifications of this degradation and are far removed
from such insight. On the contrary: Adapting themselves to the new
status quo they adapt science, literature, philosophy and all the
rest to their position in it, declaring that this corruption of
consciousness constitutes their “superiority.” In doing so and in
propagating their specific new scientific view, they fail to realize that
they have turned into inferior apologists and, together with their
science, have sunk to the level of automatons functioning in the automaton
of capitalist society.
Fifth: Wilson, using very little psychology in dealing with Michelet,
Renan and Taine, shows: Whatever the psychological motives of the “man in
between,” of the professional or self-styled ideologist — things have
their own logic and we can discard man’s psychology as a factor of
fundamental importance as soon as he enters public life. If Taine, for
example, was psychologically afraid of the Commune and identified it in
his mind with the revolutionary government of Paris, nothing is gained and
nothing explained about social processes by knowing it. Much more
interesting and enlightening is the fact that he was afraid at all and
that one part of his society took the same position and reacted exactly as
he did, while another part of the same society took the opposite stand and
reacted accordingly, no matter in both cases whether they did so actively
or passively, afraid or cynical, identifying or not. There is, of course,
no sharp line of demarcation between all members of the opposing
camps. Many individuals, especially “men in between,” vacillate with two
souls in one breast and greater or lesser inconsistency, but only in order
to wind up, finally, in one of the two fundamental positions. Important is
only the fact that internal social contradictions unfold under certain
conditions up to a point where they turn into irreconcilable
antagonisms which eventually clash. Important is only that before,
during and after such clashes, human atoms are stirred up and driven from
one position into another and that the latter is, temporarily or
permanently, always the opposite one. Important is lastly that such an
interchange of opposite positions takes place — unimportant is that this
or that member of the working-class (to use an instance) is attracted by
bourgeois social existence and this or that member of the possessing or
privileged class is disgusted with it.
Sixth: Wilson continuously illustrates the law of the dwindling force
of cognition in bourgeois thinking. Thinking can only develop in
connection with social praxis. The bourgeoisie proper, however, the more
its rule and the social productive forces expand, becomes a totally
superfluous class because all its social functions are now, as Engels put
it, fulfilled by salaried employees. Engendering, by its very utility in
the development of the capitalist system, its own uselessness, the
bourgeoisie soon becomes the only ruling class in history which has no
culture at all. It is in this respect at one with the proletariat which,
due to its position in society, cannot create any culture of its own and
has, as a separate class, been rendered equally superfluous as the
bourgeoisie. The “producer” of culture (in the widest sense) is the petty
bourgeoisie, the “man in between,” the scientist, intellectual and
ideologist who, being neither capitalist nor worker, regards himself
therefore as at least relatively “independent” or standing “above the
classes.” It has already been shown that this “independence” is sheer
self-deception and that the essential function of the intelligentsia is to
foster bourgeois rule. Once integrated as an automaton in an automaton, it
shares the fate of the bourgeoisie to the degree that the latter loses its
function and rules in the name of the anonymous power called Capital. In
other words: The intelligentsia, too, loses its creative power and
achieves less and less in the realm of cognition — its progressive role is
restricted to the sphere of abstract production in which the
stupidity of the “pure facts” reigns and the force of generalization is
lost.
Seventh: From a philosophical point of view, Wilson illustrates not
only how opposites turn into opposites, but also how they form a
unity and mutually interpenetrate each other. Already with
Michelet, illumination becomes hiding. With Renan and Taine, hope for
progress turns into disregard for political science, passive internal
freedom into active external bondage, calm pursuit of truth into the
preaching of false codes. Scientific “detachment,” further, reveals itself
to be fierce political partisanship, objectivity to consist of subjective
selection of facts fitting preconceived simplifications, independence to
be utter dependence and naturalism falsification of reality. To crown it
all, the self-appointed “salt of the earth” and superior person appears as
a fool and a liar who preaches with the boldness of the learned ignoramus
that private operation of industry alone can secure general
prosperity (this in the teeth of the experience of the Commune and the
progress of economic science). Finally, the self-appointed “elite” man is
the one who closes the circle in the decline of cognition, for he is the
first vulgar person who turns science into ideology, who abuses science
and in whose hands it becomes deadly. Leonardo da Vinci destroyed his
design for a submarine out of fear that it would be misused. Einstein, in
contrast, induced Roosevelt to produce A-bombs, with which he unchained
the deadliest force ever put in the service of capitalist competition in
war and peace. Was it fear, naïveté, hope or something else which moved
Einstein? It was, in any case, his social existence, the logic of the
system which pushed him in a disastrous direction. It was thus false
consciousness, ignorance of political science, blindness with regard to
social implications and the connection between all sciences if he could
not even calculate the first consequence of his step and believed that the
bomb would not be used without the “utmost necessity” in the sense in
which the bourgeoisie itself understands this term. One has to grasp the
dialectical nature of things, which imbued the production of the bomb with
its own logic — the bomb was actually used wantonly, with political
deception of the people, and the horrible new branch of production had to
be pushed further and further. Let it be repeated: The bourgeois character
of the “abstract” sciences (which “as such” contain no ideological
material) cannot be detected in themselves but in their theoretical
interpretation. Let it be repeated, too: In bourgeois society, science
cannot benefit the people, it benefits the system and its parasites
(general assertion of its bourgeois character) and remains a potential,
not an actual friend of mankind. The alienation of man from his work is
reproduced in the alienation of science from its social purpose, and both
harden the antagonism between physical and intellectual labor in which
reason has no place. The world is full of dialectical surprises, and
nature, which is an organic unity and will be treated as such, revenges
itself for the violation of its laws. Each step forward is now inseparably
bound up with a step backwards, with greater evils, sharper antagonisms,
graver dangers, deeper blindness, more intense social and human
degradation.
Eighth: Wilson throws some light on the unhappy position in which the
intellectual is put, with his own help, by the mechanism of the system.
Whatever the state of his consciousness may be: If he is not a cynical
apologist he feels uneasy in his skin and displays greater or lesser
evidence of a bad conscience. The feeling that “something is wrong” is as
widespread a symptom as its counterpart, namely longing for political and
intellectual freedom. A letter by Einstein to the editor of The
Reporter sums up the point in a rather tragic manner. Having been
instrumental in what was to follow from the construction of the A-bomb
(secrecy; restriction of scientific communication, freedom and conscience;
deception of the people and political persecution) he commented on a
series of articles by Theodore H. White under the title “U.S. Science: The
Troubled Quest.” In these articles it was said “that centers of
intellectual life were troubled by recent Federal actions concerning
scientists.” The New York Times of Nov. 10, 1954, from which the
story is taken, noted: “Dr. Einstein has been an outspoken critic of these
actions. When Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer was denied security clearance by
the Atomic Energy Commission, Dr. Einstein said: ‘The systematic,
widespread attempt to destroy mutual trust and confidence constitutes the
severest possible blow against society.’ ” Then followed Einstein’s
letter to the editor of The Reporter:
You have asked me what I thought about your articles concerning the
situation of the scientists in America. Instead of trying to analyze the
problem, I may express my feeling in a short remark: If I would be a
young man again and had to decide how to make my living, I would not try
to become a scientist or scholar or teacher. I would rather choose to be
a plumber or a peddler in the hope to find that modest degree of
independence still available under present circumstances.
After the letter, the New York Times wrote:
In Princeton, Dr. Einstein’s secretary declined to elaborate on this
comment. In publishing the letter, Max Ascoli, the editor of The
Reporter, said that it was an honor but “hardly a pleasure to
publish this letter from Albert Einstein.” The comment will be freely
used by enemies of the United States, he said. [This is divine: As if it
were the fault of the “enemies” that “something” is utterly rotten in
the United States!] But he added that the freedom to protest, which Dr.
Einstein used in making his comment [this is divine again: Einstein was
asked for it, but Ascoli surely expected him to be a “good boy”
who never uses any “freedom”!], can still [!] be afforded
here. Our country must maintain a good record on this score, not just a
better record than do the totalitarian nations, Mr. Ascoli said in an
editorial comment.
That is all that came out of a vital issue, and the story confirms what
we already know. You can, especially if you are Einstein, still express
your feeling and become a “protester” who audaciously uses such
freedom, but you will not attempt to analyze the problem, let alone
with full documentation and in its full social and scientific impact. It
is an “honor” to print a statement by a great man, but hardly a “pleasure”
because it reveals a little of that truth which it should be the highest
honor and pleasure for any non-totalitarian or honest paper to publish.
Inconsistent criticism is compatible with any political system — it is not
for nothing that the Stalinists sanction their own kind of “critical”
exercise in the name of “Bolshevik self-criticism.” To be timid, to hide,
to be hypocritical, to falsify, to lie has become a social command and
conscious policy. On the other hand, it has become one among
several of man’s “second natures.” There is an organic connection between
the separation of intellectual work from social praxis and the total
falsification of history and political theory consciously planned,
ordered and enforced by Stalin. This connection is so strong that the
whole bourgeois world has travelled along Stalin’s road, though the
so-called “free” world has not yet installed the Stalinist system. On a
world scale, the “new barbarism” will be victorious if the fatal trend of
capitalist development cannot be checked and reversed. But in that case no
psychology would be needed to depict in advance the basic behavior of
those who figure as pacemakers of the new barbarism. For better or worse,
the social process always prepares the soil and also has ready to hand the
human material that is required when consequential decisions become
unavoidable. Out of our social existence, Stalins, Hitlers, Mussolinis,
Francos would spring up like mushrooms after rain. Together with their
gang, all would act after the same pattern, their “individual” psychology
being of no more importance for the development in toto than a grain of
sugar in a pound of salt. In the intellectual sphere, the ultimate
consequence would be everywhere the same as in Russia. The falsification
and perversion of social consciousness would be consciously planned,
ordered and enforced — whoever resists or goes beyond “criticism”
organized by the state will be punished and exterminated.
* * *
All the foregoing could have nevertheless been said without Wilson if
the main point had not been to have a look at Wilson himself in the light
of his own presentation. He has nicely exposed the large and abstract
capitalized words, the shallow syncretism of concepts, creeds and gospels
such as: We must have love; Faith in the Fatherland; Education; Forget
your envy; Forget your pride; We need a morality and a faith; Virtue;
Passive internal freedom; Calm pursuit of truth; Don’t let the state go
too far; Honor and Conscience; Pure science; Pure art; etc. The sheer mass
of these deceptive abstractions, one is entitled to think, should have put
Wilson on guard, but only those with little insight into the social
mechanism will be surprised to see him silently drop his critical attitude
and embrace the same vice. His book ends with a “Summary,” in the last
paragraph of which he says that, more important than certain other
features, something remains which is common to all great Marxists. It is
“the desire to get rid of class privilege based on birth and on difference
of income; the will to establish a society in which the superior
development of some is not paid for by the exploitation, that is, by the
deliberate (this word is one of Wilson’s real hits!) degradation of others
— a society which will be homogeneous and cooperative as our commercial
society is not, and directed, to the best of their ability, by the
conscious creative minds of its members.” And then he delivers his own
deceptive abstraction:
But this again is a goal to be worked for in the light of one’s own
imagination and with the help of one’s common sense. The formulas of the
various Marxist creeds, including the one that is common to them all,
the dogma of the Dialectic, no more deserve the status of holy writ than
the formulas of other creeds. To accomplish such a task will require of
us an unsleeping adaptive exercise of reason and instinct
combined.
Bereaved of several words which hide more than illuminate, the new
recipe reads: We must use imagination and common sense, we need an
unsleeping adaptive exercise of reason and instinct combined.
That, presented in 1953 as a remedy for practical evils, is
worse than the codes of Love, Honor, Conscience or Faith, and it by no
means becomes better if the words “one’s own” are inserted. One’s
own imagination and common sense are as good and helpful or bad and
hampering as reason and instinct (combined) required of us. Since
nobody who has a little common sense will believe that Wilson’s
abstractions have told him anything, he will conclude (and that is
his “combination”): Wilson is only a present-day — Taine. If, in
addition, he possesses reason (which includes knowledge and cognition) he
will exercise it (throwing away the senseless flourish “unsleeping
adaptive”) and work for his goal by explaining what, in each concrete
case, is at stake. In the case of Wilson, he will explain, it so happens
that his imagination, common sense, reason and instinct combined were not
sufficient to make him carry through his — own point. If he had reflected
on what he had demonstrated he would have seen that even cogent theories,
if separated from social praxis, must sooner or later lead to internal
contradictions, emptiness and ideology (false consciousness). Cognition is
truth, and the truth is often bitter because it is brutal. Wilson states,
in the case of Renan and Taine, that it is their profession that has made
their mask. If one makes such a statement he invites the question: And
what is the profession behind your own mask? He may also be asked: Why do
you write at all? Out of deep conviction, because you can’t help it and
have decided to work with others for the establishment of the society you
envisage? Or do you write in order to make a living and sell empty
phrases? — Schopenhauer already complained that the whole misery of
contemporary literature inside and outside Germany has its roots in
writing books for money. “Everybody who needs money,” he said, “sits down
and writes a book, and the public is stupid enough to buy it.” Yet all
evils have their consoling side: Any writer must recognize that he runs a
risk and has for his part no moral right to complain if he is taken to
task.
There is, for instance, the question of the Dialectic. Wilson rejects
dialectics not only in passing, as above, but in a special chapter called
The Myth of the Dialectic. Here, however, the contention is that
there can be no full consciousness of our social existence without
knowledge of dialectics — the final reason for quoting Wilson was to have
a look at him in the light of that “Myth,” i.e. to introduce it in its
social aspect and significance, and to explain by way of inquiry
into our present social existence and consciousness why it has so
many opponents who without exception are not only victims of the law of
ignorance and isolation in bourgeois society, but frequently also
conscious calumniators who try to prejudice the reader against the study
of dialectics by calling it mythical, metaphysical, dogma, nonsense, trash
and God knows what else. Wilson, who like innumerable fellow fighters
against dialectics may believe he has “finished” it once and for all,
should have known as a man somewhat instructed “political science”:
As long as social contradictions and antagonisms exist they will
be accompanied by partisanship in every field and in every question, while
the claim to neutrality expresses per se either a lie or false
consciousness. Where there is partisanship there is struggle, and in the
fields of cognition and epistemology the struggle will always revolve
around the positions of philosophical idealism and materialism, in the
final analysis philosophical idealism and dialectical materialism.
The positions “in between,” called agnosticism, empiricism, positivism and
so on, are but deviations from the two basic positions. There is,
furthermore, a difference between idealist dialectic and materialist
dialectic, but characteristic of the ideological struggle in the last
sixty years is a steadily increasing hostility to and ignorance of
dialectics at all, especially among the representatives of positions “in
between.” The enmity against dialectics is so intense that its rejection
runs parallel with an unceasing effort to distort it, to minimize it, to
limit it and to render it harmless.
The question is: Is this effort (which besides thoroughly stigmatizes
Wilson’s chapter on dialectics) a chance phenomenon? By no means — the
social root of it was uncovered by Marx long ago, but it is the tragic
fate of the most famous quotations rarely to be understood and properly
reflected upon in their full implications. That alone is reason enough to
place once more before Wilson’s eyes Marx’s statement concerning the
horror which befalls the bourgeoisie and its apologists at the sight of
dialectics:
In its mystified form, the Dialectic became fashion in Germany,
because it seemed to transfigure what existed. In its rational form it
is to bourgeoisdom and its doctrinaire prolocutors a scandal and
abomination, because it includes in the positive comprehension of the
existing at the same time also the comprehension of its negation, of its
necessary destruction, apprehends every form that has come into
existence in the flux of movement, thus also according to its perishable
side, lets nothing impose upon it and remains in its essence critical
and revolutionary.
It is in vain that Wilson pays side-compliments to Marxism (which are
almost “obligatory” for any writer who wants to be “objective”) such as:
“There was this much in the claims of Marx and Engels that they had been
able to make socialism ‘scientific’: they were the first to attempt in an
intensive way to study economic motives objectively.” It is in vain that
he declares we can still use with profit “the technique of analyzing
political phenomena in social-economic terms” and finally says: “The
Marxist method can get valid results only if applied afresh by men
realistic enough to see, and bold enough to think, for themselves.” It is
in vain that he tells us of the “will to establish a society” (see above),
for all his realistic seeing and bold thinking (for himself!) lands in
abstractions and his enmity against the Dialectic has “an obvious
political purpose.” In short, it is a fact that Wilson, too, has a “past”
yet has come to make his peace with society as it is.[6]
The pattern of his behavior has been set: Knowing that this society is a
very bad one, he does not feel too easy about the whole business and
exercises self-vindication both by “boldly thinking for himself” (he
expresses the well-known qualms of the ideologists, which make him appear
“independent”) and in fighting a “dogma” not very flattering for his
social position, his profession and society as a whole. One could bluntly
say that Wilson, who leans heavily on psychology when it comes to
Marx (he calls him “Prometheus and Lucifer”) is hostile to
dialectics because this method is indeed “diabolic” and does not stop
before any claim to independence, remains critical toward
any abstraction from social content, is not impressed by any
play with empty words and shallow conceptions and apprehends the
perishable side of any position in bourgeois society. With all this
Wilson remains a factual witness for dialectics when, not knowing
what he is doing, he demonstrates how opposites turn into opposites, form
a unit and interpenetrate each other (see preceding section under
“Seventh”). This is precisely an illustration of one of the laws of
dialectics, which are as inexorable as social laws and from which there is
as little escape as from the latter, for they are the laws of the universe
and all its phenomena, including the human mind.
* * *
The first who cognized that the mode of thinking of the nice fellow to
whom Wilson appeals, namely “common sense,” had much to do with our social
status was Hegel. He insisted that the operations of formal logic which
fixed and separated all things from each other, so that A was A, a worker
a worker, necessity necessity, contingency contingency, etc., had arisen
with social relations which were antagonistic and that they therefore
reflected these real antagonisms. In the ancient world the fixation
(reification) of social antagonisms had already been driven so far that
formal thinking expressed it in the sentence: The slave is a slave, not a
human being.[7]
The ancient world, however, is distinguished from the modern world by a
greater transparency and sincerity — in our time one is either
hypocritical or unconscious about the fact that the formula “The worker is
a worker” has the same significance as “The slave is a slave” and reflects
a state of social affairs in which the worker is indeed not a human being
and is not treated as one but, as Wilson says, is subject to
deliberate degradation. Social relations have been so reified and
so fixed by common sense that most people are unable to connect a
professor with physical work. No, the professor is a professor and is
immediately conceived of as a somewhat awkward person with glasses and
beard, absentminded, impractical and unfit for physical work, which would
prevent him from being a “real” professor. The professor will usually feel
the same way, and since everybody has a business which makes him what he
is and sets him apart from others, the capitalist will feel that he is a
capitalist, the professional gangster is but a professional gangster, the
Marilyn Monroe-doctrine is the Marilyn Monroe-doctrine and so on without
end. Finally, the abstract character of our social existence in which all
relations undergo reification finds its universal expression in the truly
formal logical maxim Business is Business with which all human
considerations are silenced and negated.
It is economy (and in it one decisive factor: commodity) which has
shaped the whole social process as well as our form of thinking and has
transformed man into a mere accessory to his position. If Michelet could
have followed the development of capitalist society and commented on its
present states he would perhaps have exclaimed:
What an amazing thing! Now there is not only a poor man’s soul, a rich
man’s soul, a tradesman’s soul, but also a musician’s soul and that of the
workers’ bureaucrat, the luxury woman, the journalist, the physicist, the
poet, the ideologist, the baseball player, the hoodlum (whom somebody
above likes!), the missionary, the lawyer (whom nobody likes!), the
mathematician, the logician, the physician. So many professions, so many
souls, each incapable, in the final analysis, of looking at the world in
terms other than those of its specialty, each one incapable of a unifying
human view. Business is Business and science is science, and science
stands in the service of business and has to compete with other business.
Consequently: Each specialty within a specialty becomes another business
which must assert itself by giving the same object a different color, not
unlike the way in which two equally bad toothpastes are sold under
different names. What has become of my one science, nay, of one
science itself! Physicists and mathematicians very often look with disdain
upon philosophy, which appears to be a “mess” of 17,563 different opinions
(the figure given is scientifically “exact”). Philosophers can pay them
back and point to the mess in all other sciences. After the so-called
fundamentals-crisis (Grundlagenkrise) in mathematics which broke
out at the beginning of the twentieth century (the development of G.
Cantor’s Mengenlehre had led mathematics for the first time to
contradictions and split mathematicians into different camps), the
student has a choice between teachers who are formalists, logicians and
intuitionists. From formalists like Hilbert he will learn that there
exists no specific subject-matter in mathematics, for it is only a
collection of rules which permit the construction of combinations and
transformations. The logicians Russell and Frege will tell him that
mathematics is a grammar without subject, object, verb or predicate, a
grammar of the copula and, or, etc. (in a word: a tremendous
tautology). The intuitionists Brouwer and Weyl will hold Kant’s view that
pure (pure!) intuition a priori forms the subject-matter of
mathematics, but the logicians (who have held since Leibniz that
mathematics belongs to logic) will see in the axioms and theorems of
mathematics laws of ratio. And that is not all. There are
scientist-philosophers like Mach who seek the subject-matter of
mathematics in psychology; there are the mechanistic empiricists who
negate the specificity of mathematics, classify it under physics and hold
that its subject-matter is physical time and physical space. Then there is
the trouble with non-Euclidian geometry and quantum mechanics in which
neo-Kantians (Nelson, Bieberbach), mechanistic empiricists and formalists
take different and sometimes comical attitudes. (By the way: A true
Swiss-cheese genius in philosophy is Weyl!) And then there are
conventionalists like Poincaré for whom mathematical notions and
operations are but convenient agreements (principle of “thought-economy”)
and thus evade the problem. Add to these names like Peirce, Peano,
Schröder and you have a host of other nuances leading to the state of
symbolic logic (also called mathematical, exact or algebraic logic).
Edward V. Huntington says that it “remained for Russell (1903) to announce
the surprising thesis that logic and mathematics are in reality the same
science; that pure mathematics requires no material beyond that which is
furnished by the necessary presupposition of any logical thought; and that
formal logic, if it is to be distinguished as a separate science at all,
is simply the elementary, or earlier, part of mathematics.” But he
continues: “It is too early to predict what the final outcome of this new
movement will be. . . . A new program has been proposed for mathematics
and logic, and the true nature and scope of what is now called symbolic
logic cannot be determined until this broader question of the relation
between logic and mathematics is decided. It may be that, in the merging
of these two sciences, no place will be left for symbolic logic as a
distinctive science; it may be that the studies now pursued under that
name will be supplied with a more appropriate title [which will be a great
step “forward”!]; or it may be that some new form of symbolic logic will
absorb the whole of logic and mathematics.” (Huntington with the
cooperation of Christine Ladd-Franklin in The Encyclopedia
Americana, article Symbolic Logic.)
Let’s now have a look at a single item within a science, namely the
question of the ether in physics. The discussion about the existence of
the ether came into full swing through Einstein who, at the time of the
formulation of his special theory of relativity, was the main opponent of
the assumption of an ether. He later reversed his view and declared (in
Ether and Relativity Theory): “The ether of the general theory of
relativity is a medium which is itself bare of all mechanic and
kinetic qualities, but codetermines the mechanical (and electromagnetical)
process (Geschehen).” Accordingly we have scientists and
philosophers who share Einstein’s view of the ether. Among philosophers
belonging to this group we find Bergson, Cassirer, Schlick, Petzold and
others; among astronomers Eddington and Kopff; among mathematicians
Hilbert, Neumann, Russell; among physicists Planck, A. Haas, M. Laue, A.
Sommerfeld, Born, Campbell, Chwolsen. Then comes a group which upholds the
concept of a ponderomotive, substantial ether, in which such
prominent names as W. Voigt, O. Lodge, J.J. Thomson, W. Wien, G. Mie, E.
Wiechert, V. Bjerkness, W. Nernst figure. This group, however, is not
homogeneous but comprises adherents of an elastic or inelastic, a
continuous or discontinuous (corpuscular), a Fresnel-Lorentz (resting) and
a Hertz-Stocke (carried along) ether. Then follows a group which simply
denies the existence of an ether. In it we find Poincaré, Mach, Ritz
(emission theory) and, especially among mathematicians, axiomaticians.
(Note: There are in all these groups numerous “oscillators,” combinations
and transitions.) Then follow those scientists who say “I don’t know”
(Exner, Ehrenfest, R. Millikan) but who still operate with the ether.
Finally follow the confusionists whose protagonist is Weyl.[8]
Thus we need not go into biology (with its vitalistic errantries),
anthropology, medicine, psychology, economy and all the rest in order to
find in science the same mess of 17,563 different opinions for which
philosophy is castigated. What is most amazing: Business is going on in
science as in all other spheres of production! 100 different kinds of
toilet-paper are produced because people must go into business, must stay
in it and expand — scientists, lecturers and students produce for the same
purpose en masse. Three or four kinds of toilet-paper would
represent a rational production and be sufficient for any need — three or
four scientific papers among each thousand would provide for all that is
required in the field. The rest is useless duplication and sham-production
which has nothing to do with human or scientific needs, but much with
business, competition (also among the universities, which are run as
business institutions) and a totally crazy system maintaining itself
through tremendous waste. Wherever we look there is the dialectical unity
of opposites and transformation of opposites into opposites. Material
production progresses and incites scientific work as science progresses
and incites material production, yet one is simultaneously as rational and
irrational as the other. Material production cannot find its general
purpose and science cannot define its own subject-matter — both are
separated from their human end; both are driven on by blind, external
laws; both are governed by false consciousness. Rationality is thus
achieved through irrationality and irrationality through rationality, both
turning wildly into each other and finally leaving rationality chiefly in
scientific methods, laboratories, computers, generators and the
means of production, while irrationality appears chiefly in
production as a whole, in H-bombs, guided missiles, gases and bacteria for
warfare, jet-fighters, insecticides, chemicals and so on down to 100
different kinds of toilet-paper.
* * *
Leaving Michelet and turning back to Hegel, we find that his
consciousness was in many respects far ahead of his time. He was the first
who denoted the antagonism between social existence and consciousness as
alienation, revealing the state of affairs in modern society in
which man is overpowered by his own creations and in which the unity of
object and subject, society and nature, production and society, etc., is
completely lost. Confronted with statements of false consciousness, i.e.
with the statement of formal logic the worker is a worker (which
expresses and fixes the alienation of man from his essence) he would have
retorted:
The statement is true, yet only insofar as it reflects the given
state of the worker in the given society. The truth of the
statement is a starting point and a necessary element for establishing the
fact that it is at the same time false. True and false are usually
identical in modern society, which in the given case means: The worker is
not a worker but a human being — he represents a living unity of
opposites (worker and human being), even if this unity is hidden under his
present status. To say that the worker is a worker means to say that he is
a degraded human being, and to say the latter is to say that he
became a degraded human being as a consequence of the forms in
which society has developed. A man who works in order to live is the very
opposite of a man who lives in order to work — the latter is a living
antagonism, and that antagonism, like all other antagonisms created
by social development and categorized by formal logic (common sense), must
be overcome in such a way (there is in truth no other) that man again will
work in order to live. He thus retains the content of the
antagonism, but on a much higher level, in an un-antagonistic form. This
form permits him to dispose freely of what he has achieved in the course
of his development from primitive man who worked in order to live to
civilized man who lived in order to work, yet for all that did not cease
to work in order to live and reconquered his original status as
cultural man who possesses now all means necessary for the
realization of his human potentialities.
The kernel of Hegel’s dialectical method is to dissolve all immediately
given forms of reality into a process which alone can reveal the true
nature of things. It opposes therefore all forms of positivism and their
fetishization of facts, which as such do not tell the truth and
consequently possess no authority at all. Positivism in any form, in spite
of its unceasing claims to being “scientific,” is simultaneously false
consciousness (ideology), affirmation of the existing system, bad
conscience and apology. It is the characteristic philosophy of a perverted
society and perverts consciousness not because it violates the
“scientific” principle and goes beyond facts verified by observation, but
because it does not do so. It is furthermore a philosophy which by
its very character refutes itself. The experience of our senses, for
example, tells us that the worker is a worker, the capitalist a
capitalist, the scientist a scientist and so on. But is the capitalist or,
for that matter, anything that we perceive and experience, an observed
fact which positivism would be rightfully entitled to celebrate? By no
means! The capitalist is a general phenomenon representing
infinitely more than any observed capitalist, indeed something more
powerful, more essential and decisive than all observed capitalists taken
together. All things are a complex of contradictions and universalities,
so that first the scientist and the capitalist, too, are degraded human
beings who have lost their independence and depend on the work of others
while being slaves of the system. But then they are, like the genus man,
also mammals, males or females, cell-states asserting the unity of life
and death, being and nothing, becoming and vanishing and many more
“facts.” All categories express something universal (even the categories
individual, single, fact, particular, etc.) which is more than the bare
fact and in truth determines its essence. It is this universal of which
positivism speaks whilst believing or pretending to speak only of observed
facts. To start with the “given” is justified and necessary, but to
pretend that it is possible to stick only to given facts is a lie immanent
in all positivist philosophy and, once more, an affirmation of the
status quo.
There is always a difference between appearance (the manner in which
things exist) and essence. All science, says Marx, would be superfluous if
the form of appearance (Erscheinungsform) and the essence of things
were immediately to coincide. In the reality of our social existence, we
see the “free” worker, but the essence of this phenomenon is wage slavery.
In reality, we find the “observable fact” of prices, but their essence is
value which can neither be seen nor felt and yet is more “real” and
powerful in its abstract quality than millions of little facts without
consequence. In reality, we encounter supply and demand, yet their essence
is commodity production. In reality, there exist the different forms in
which profit appears (interest on money-capital, rent, commercial profit,
entrepreneur profit, etc.), but their essence is surplus value. Finally,
we speak of democracy, civilization, technical progress, whilst their
essence is dictatorship of capital, bourgeois rule, social barbarism and
regression. Alas, the world does not bow to positivism, the essence of
things is not expressible in numbers, and symbolic logic is not the logic
of life. Where mathematics experiences a crisis when it meets
contradictions, dialectics postulates that such contradictions are the
very soul and moving force of the whole universe — it hunts them (sit
venia verbo!) and follows their unfolding in society in order to show
that they can be freed from their antagonistic form.
* * *
[AUTHOR’S NOTES]
1. Noteworthy is also the “neo-barbarism recently
defeated on the battlefields” where, notwithstanding official propaganda
around the “anti-fascist” war, this neo-barbarism, with Russia at the
spear-head, emerged rather as the victor.
2. At this point only one example of how Marx is
distorted by interested “scientists.” Karl Mannheim, representative of
“Wissenssoziologie,” writes in his Ideology and Utopia: “The
important thing in the notion Ideology is thus in my opinion the discovery
that political thinking is bound [!] to social existence. That is the
most essential meaning of the much quoted thesis: ‘It is not the
consciousness of men that determines their existence, but, on the
contrary, their social existence determines their consciousness.’ ” —
The reader may think this is “fair,” yet one has only to compare
Mannheim’s “bound” to social existence with Marx’s social existence
that determines consciousness (and not only political
thinking) in order to discover the trick: Since Marxism too is “bound” to
social existence (and what is not?), it too is — ideology. And that is
indeed what Mannheim wants to “prove.”
3. Re. Horkheimer’s “human nature” one could exclaim:
There it is! — so many material situations, so many human
natures!
4. This is a good illustration of how something becomes
sometimes, or rather very frequently, “unpopular.” It is because
Academicians and a host of other persons, tacitly assuming that their own
interests must be identical with those of all, give themselves much pain
to make it appear not popular.
5. All quotations are taken from Wilson’s book: To
the Finland Station (Anchor Books, 1953).
6. Wilson even goes so far as to make his “own”
contribution to the legend of the USA. Stating the undeniable fact that
the poor and illiterate people of a modern industrial society tend to
exhibit bourgeois ambitions and tastes when they first master advanced
techniques and improve their standards of living, he goes on to say: “We
have seen it in the United States, where we have produced what is really
the earliest example of that new kind of bourgeoisie that they have been
getting in Germany and Russia.” Well, whatever that means, it is the
entrance to the legend: “But ours [!] is a more highly developed,
that is, a more democratic, version; and when I say that it is more
democratic, I am using the word not in any loose sense, but in the
definite sense that, with us [!], individual responsibility, the
ability to make decisions, is a good deal more evenly distributed than it
is in these other countries.” — That sort of rubbish is simply to be
dismissed with the remark that it is the classical product of American
individual responsibility, the ability to make decisions, realistic enough
seeing and bold enough thinking combined.
7. Two beautiful illustrations of the same point in
modern times from Horkheimer’s Eclipse of Reason. First: “Charles
O’Connor, a celebrated lawyer of the period before the Civil War, once
nominated for the presidency by a faction of the Democratic party, argued
(after outlining the blessings of compulsory servitude): ‘I insist that
negro slavery is not unjust: it is just, wise, and beneficent.
. . . I insist that negro slavery . . . is ordained by
nature [!]. . . . Yielding to the clear decree of nature,
and the dictates of philosophy, we must pronounce that institution just,
benign, lawful and proper.’ ” Second: “Another spokesman for slavery,
Fitzhugh, author of Sociology for the South, seems to remember that
once philosophy stood for concrete ideas and principles and therefore
attacks it in the name of common sense. . . .: ‘Men of sound
judgments usually give wrong reasons for their opinions because they are
not abstractionists. . . . Philosophy beats them all hollow in
argument, yet instinct and common sense are right and philosophy is wrong.
Philosophy is always wrong and instinct and common sense always right,
because philosophy is unobservant and reasons from narrow and insufficient
premises.’ ” — If common sense and instinct (Wilson’s pets) have
social antagonisms fixed as a “clear decree of nature,” all other things
will be fixed in the same way. Thus declared Edmund Burke, whom Marx
chastised in Capital: “The laws of commerce are the laws of Nature,
and therefore the laws of God.” Wilson could learn from such examples that
his common sense, too, is a very dialectical creature — sound philosophy
and judgment for the defender of slavery, a fool and scoundrel for those
who oppose it.
8. The ether-question is here followed up only to 1930,
at the latest.
End of Part 1 of Josef Weber’s “The Problem of Social Consciousness
in Our Time.”
[Part
2]
visits to this webpage (beginning 7 May
2005).
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