Steiner starts Section 2.11 by remarking that he realizes many will not find his discussion "scientific", as this term is used today. Then he says, "To this I can only reply that I have so far been concerned not with scientific results of any kind, but with the simple description of what every one of us experiences in his own consciousness." It suddenly strikes me that this is an indictment of science, as this term is used today. For he is practicing the scientific method with the steps in their right order!

The steps in the scientific method are:
1) Ask a question.
2) Gather information.
3) Form hypothesis.
4) Test hypothesis.
5) Analyze results.
6) Scientific conclusion.

If he were concerning himself with "scientific results" then he'd be at Step Six. But he's still at Step Two: gathering information, with simple descriptions of what we experience in our own consciousness.

Goethe also had something against many of the scientists of his day, in that they formed their theories in advance of the facts. And Goethe's science was also rejected by the scientific establishment of his day.

Can it be that modern science is just too impatient to follow the scientific method? Or is it that we have never developed the art of observation?

Although I used to be confused about Phenomenalism, it turns out to be an easy point of view for me to inhabit. It means being willing to stay at the level of observation until all the relevant facts are in.

As a Phenomenalist in 1.11, I began to learn how to free my thinking from my feelings. Instead of immediately identifying a feeling as the source of love and compassion, I fine-tuned my observation until I could distinguish the mental picture behind the feeling it aroused.

Now as a Phenomenalist in 2.11, I'm ready to refine my observation of other experiences of consciousness. But first I have to reaffirm my point of view and establish my method.

Instead of scouring the relevant scientific periodicals about human consciousness to make sure I'm in step with all the current research, I'm going to observe my own experience. This won't come anywhere near what is defined as science today, but that doesn't matter. Do I want to appear scientific, or do I want to practice the scientific method to the best of my ability?

I'm going to stick with simple descriptions of my own experiences. Any theory I might come up with to explain the experiences is a long way down the road. I'm going to remember that my observing a phenomena is actually a phenomena in itself, and might therefore affect the data. And I won't forget that even describing experiences is a phenomena too. So I'm not going to be attached to my descriptions.

In other words, I'm going to stay aware of what I bring to my own experience by observing and describing it. My descriptions will subordinate themselves to, and serve, the phenomena; not the other way round.

Two Types of Science: Distancing from or Participating in the Phenomenon

Chapter 2 theme of inwardly experiencing nature: Conventional science distances itself from what it studies in order to remain objective. Goethe sought to refine the observer's contemplative perception to bring the phenomena into himself. The observer becomes united with the observed and in this way avoids the problem of subjectivity without the need to objectify things from a distance.

Here is an excerpt from an interview with Arthur Zajonc.

The whole idea of science is, of course, based on objectification—to become objective in your knowing, which typically means distancing. Conventional science objectifies by taking an experience and replacing it by a set of more “fundamental” objects such as atoms, molecules, interactions, and so forth. So, as opposed to the blue of the sky, physics says it’s Mie scattering and the blue results from small, polarizable molecules interacting with electromagnetic fields, setting up secondary waves. This leads to a differential scattering cross-section with a dependence on the fourth power of the frequency. In this way you have an objectified account. And it’s now been shorn from the dangers of my subjective experience. Namely, I see blue. And I like blue a lot or whatever other subjective association it might be.

Goethe took a very different approach. He was aware of the dangers of my interpretation and personalization or becoming subjective in a problematic way. So he sought to mitigate those dangers in a variety of ways. But, as I see it, his resolution of the problem was contrary to the above goal of objectification. Rather than becoming distant from phenomena by taking models as the intermediary, Goethe sought to refine and cultivate the investigator’s capacities for perception.

Science says to step back and gain a distance, because you’re inevitably going to make a mess of that which you are investigating. Goethe said, no, become more graceful, become more delicate in your observing. He called it a delicate empiricism. He said that there exists a delicate empiricism in which the observer becomes united with the observed, thereby becoming true theory. He said this ability belongs to a very highly cultivated age in the future.

So this delicate empiricism allows one to come close to the phenomenon under investigation, as opposed to having to move further away. One actually unites with the object under observation. So, rather than disconnecting from nature, one is participating it. Through that participation, something happens. Here’s one of the other elements from Goethe that is key for me, what I call Bildung, which has two meanings in German: on the one hand it means education, but really it means formation.

So by attending to an object or attending to phenomena, one moves into and participates in that phenomenon and, as a consequence, brings an activity into one’s self, which is normally outside. I see the blue; I bring the blue into my self. There’s a blue experience. That blue experience actually cultivates something in me. The closer I attend, the more shades of blue I will be able to discern. The conditions of appearance will become more apparent. So, through the process of attention, there’s also a process in me of transformation.

Goethe said that, “every object well-contemplated creates an organ within us.” So, contemplate the object well; that creates a capacity within. That capacity is then required for the last step of perceiving the archetypal phenomenon. If you don’t have the organ, you won’t be able to perceive it; you’ll just see the blue sky.

So there’s a kind of hermeneutic circle in which I attend to the outside with the capacities I presently have. That attention then cultivates capacities within that are built on the rudimentary—you might say elementary—forms of capacities and organs I currently have. It cultivates them and develops them into a new, more vigorous and attentive form of cognition. I bring these to bear on the phenomenon before me, and it goes again through another cycle.

Goethe’s notion of science is transformative. You do not come with a pre-existing set of capacities that include, say, rational, deductive capacities, as well as eyes and ears and so on—the physical senses. Rather there’s a kind of organic, dynamic sense of the human being and the human being’s potential. That potential is cultivated and actuated through an active engagement with the world.

I go back to the story I was telling before. I’m standing in front of a painting I’ve never seen before. I don’t know who painted this. What am I doing? I’m simply trying to give it my attention. Why bother? Why not just read about it somewhere? Well, to learn to see it. The only way you can learn to see the painting is to be in front of it. It helps to read about it, but the main event is just putting yourself in the way of the chamber music. You may fall asleep at first. Then, gradually, you begin to see. Oh, yeah, Mozart. I know who Mozart is. That sounds familiar, and I like this piece of music over that piece of music. You learn to discern the different elements that comprise the music you are hearing and the various instruments used to produce it.

So you gradually become more literate, more perceptive. You develop capacities that allow you to savor and appreciate what surrounds you in a more refined way. That’s true for scientists, as well as for artists.

I think Goethe’s form of science is, in some ways, connected to the contemplative traditions. You are to attend. That attention provides for transformation. It’s not necessarily a mantra you’re attending to. It’s an object in nature. It’s a work of art. And that constant attention is a kind of schooling. In that sense, the human being’s potentials are actualized. In that sense, I think it is a contemplative form of science, a contemplative form of knowing, as opposed to a simply deductive sequence of thoughts that one works through. Goethe and I both appreciate the deductive and analytical forms of knowing, that goes without saying. But they become one-sided and tyrannical if they’re not enlarged by this fuller epistemology.

It's fun to take a walk as a Sensationalist on a bright, blustery spring afternoon.

Not to say, with the Psychist, "This is me taking my walk on a windy day;" nor, with the Pneumatist, "I'm the thinking part of this lovely, swirling landscape." Not to say, with the Spiritist, "This meadow is the work of Spiritual Heirarchies, breathing life into the earth from beyond the stars."

Not to identify the species of grass, with the Monadist; nor to sniff out, with the Dynamist, the source and direction of the wind. Not to assess, with the Realist, whether haying time is near. Not to withhold judgment, like the Phenomenalist, saying "There's the meadow, and here are my thoughts about it."

But just to let the wind blow away all thoughts, until your eyes fill up with crazy dancing lights! I think the best landscape painters must be Sensationalists, because they see the colors that are really there, even when they're not supposed to be.

As a Sensationalist in 1.12, I learned how perceptions are the basis of love. The perceptions I have of someone give rise to a mental picture that awakens love for the person, which in turn stimulates further perceptions. Only when I understand the perceptible origins of my thoughts and mental pictures will I know if my actions are free or determined.

In 2.12 the question is whether I can look within myself to recapture a feeling of unity with Nature. I'm not interested in some kind of absract philosophical unity, but in a unity that speaks to me as a whole person. Right away I have to confront the fact that the very terms I have to use when I think about this problem, terms such as "Nature," have become the property of the scientific disciplines of philosophy and psychology. They mean quite specific things within these disciplines, and the question arises as to whether I even have the right to use them!

Steiner reassures me that, as an ordinary person, I do have this right. I can record the facts of my everyday experience, without worrying that I'm misapplying concepts that belong to the scientific establishment. I can regain possession of the terms, "I," "Spirit," "Nature," and "World," and use them as I see fit.

Finally, my task will be to look at my own consciousness as I experience it in everyday life. What science has decreed about my consciousness, all the erudite interpretations that have been laid upon it (including anthroposophical interpretations!), are precisely what I must strip away from my inquiry, in order to clear the way for my own observations. As far as these observations go, at every moment of my life I have exactly what I need: the experiences, and the organs to perceive them.