Submitted by Don Cruse on Sat, 02/24/2007 - 1:52pm.
A critical monist worldview must show that primary creativity in nature comes from one source (or direction) only, either up out of matter (a monism of matter) or down out of spirit (a monism of spirit). Both of these possibilities are potentially provable on the basis of direct experience, i.e. without resorting to metaphysical speculation.
A monism of matter must show on the basis of direct sensory experience, that human consciousness, which is the source of all critical knowledge, arises directly out of matter. This it has so far failed to do, despite several centuries of epistemological argument (see John Hogan’s work The Undiscovered Mind).
In contrast, a monism of spirit must show, by means of a sound epistemological argument based directly upon ‘thinking about thought,’ that thought is itself a ‘spiritual activity.’ This argument, entitled “a monism of thought,” was critically made a century ago by Rudolf Steiner in his Philosophy of Freedom.
The difficulty inherent in monism, however, is that it is totally unforgiving, in that there cannot be even one trace of the logic of the opposing monism — where primal creativity is concerned — present in any argument that is being used to justify it, because this at once turns it into a contradictory dualism, and so causes it to cease being ‘scientific’ in the now widely accepted meaning of the word.
It is this fact that stands behind Richard Lewontin’s forceful assertion, with respect to Darwinism, that:
“…we are forced by our apriori adherence to material causes to create an apparatus of investigation and a set of concepts that produce mental explanations, no matter how counterintuitive…. Moreover, that materialism is absolute, for we cannot allow a divine foot in the door.”
Let there be no doubt, therefore, that Darwinism is a materialistic theory that cannot be in any way spiritualised. The seemingly apriori nature of monist causal logic here mentioned, applies as much to a spiritual as it does to a material monism. In a spiritual monism, however, this phrase will not be used in the Kantian sense, rather the necessity entailed is viewed as coming from nature herself, as being a part of the ‘given’ (see Steiner’s doctoral thesis Truth & Science).
Darwinism is held by most scientists to be a totally monist materialistic world-view, because otherwise the theory could not be rationally viewed as being scientific (science cannot deal with contradictory directions in causal logic). It is, however, actually a hidden dualism, because the language in which the theory is couched — as I have often demonstrated — has the anthropomorphic effect of importing human creativity into a theory concerning natural creativity, so that it unconsciously takes the place of the “divine foot in the door” that a material monism is at such pains to exclude. For this reason the theories status as science is deeply suspect, but this is a very subtle error, and it will probably take a long while for science, and for humanity as a whole, to come to terms with this extremely difficult truth.
When it does come to terms with it, then science’s present monism of matter will have lost its chief support, and biology like quantum physics will need to find itself an alternative monism where primary causality is concerned. And, of course, there is only one alternative for critical thought, the ‘monism of thought’ provided a century ago by Rudolf Steiner, wherein we are experientially shown that natural creativity has its primary source in spirit and not in matter. The many attempts at creating a ‘neutral’ or third monism in western thought will then also be set aside, because out of necessity they are based upon a non-experiential (speculative) foundation, as is the case with de Chardin’s ‘monadism’ (there is no way of knowing whether or not a ‘monad’ exists — see my article ‘A Third Monism?’).
When this time comes, it will constitute a major step forward in the evolution of human consciousness, because the critical thought which has always been so essential to science, will then show itself to be a ‘spiritual activity,’ one that has the potential to vastly expand the scope of scientific knowledge (see Rudolf Steiner’s work Knowledge of Higher Worlds, How is it Attained), and to a science that is no longer amoral, as is currently the case.
Before this can happen, however, a problem will need to be faced concerning the monist status of Steiner’s own work. His Philosophy of Freedom, as already noted, gives us the critical foundation for a monist theory of knowledge in which spirit is shown to be primary and matter secondary.
There is, however, a contradiction contained in The Philosophy of Freedom itself, one that needs to be impartially examined. It appears in Chapter Twelve, a chapter that is not essential to the principal argument, and could even be removed entirely without the works epistemological status being affected, but which nevertheless contains observations about Darwin’s theory which, if they were true, would convert Steiner’s unique spiritual monism into just another of the many dualisms that are to be found within the German idealist tradition. I shall not go into the passages in question here — they will be obvious to any careful reader — except to suggest that they have something of the character of an afterthought concerning human morality, worded as if to accommodate Darwinism, and as such have no direct bearing on Steiner’s principal argument.
The existence of this chapter, however, makes it necessary for us to seriously ask: was Steiner a monist, as his theory of knowledge would itself indicate — which would make him a unique figure in the history of philosophy — or just another of the very many dualists whose works abound in that same history?
I ask this because Chapter Twelve can be interpreted as confirming the truth of Darwinism, which as a materialistic worldview would be the equivalent of allowing “a divine foot in the door” only, of course, the exact opposite. But the consequences of allowing a ‘materialistic foot in the door’ are just as grave for Steiner’s argument as a “divine foot” would be for a material monism, in that it would immediately make it ‘unscientific.’
Based upon my study of this work, I would say that Chapter twelve is an unessential element in an otherwise totally consistent epistemological argument, i.e. an argument that can be fully re-stated without any mention of Darwinism, as is the case, for example, in Owen Barfield’s essay ‘Rudolf Steiner’s Concept of Mind’ (http://www.difficulttruths.com/). What is clear, however, is that one may not accuse Darwin and materialistic science of erecting an unconscious dualism, as I have repeatedly done, without being prepared to admit that Steiner appears to have made the same but opposite error in Chapter Twelve. It helps, of course, that this can be viewed as a minor error, one that does not in any way alter his principal monist argument. It is also possible that Steiner’s error may possess an historical (but not a logical) justification connected with the evolution of human consciousness itself, because of the central role that Darwinism has played in that evolution. I have myself speculated as to what this justification might be, but here I will leave it to others to consider the matter.
To put this whole question into perspective, we should take into account that in America, where philosophical dualism (combining science with religion) is almost a disease, extreme examples of it can be found — like that of a man who recently earned a PhD in palaeontology, but who is also a ‘young earth creationist.’ Such extremes require that these conflicting worldviews, replete with their totally opposite directions in causal logic, be kept in separate ‘watertight compartments’ of the brain (to use a materialistic analogy) and never be allowed to meet. From this one example it is easy to see how philosophical dualism makes a complete mockery out of science, so that it must not be taken lightly.
A world in which this kind of contradiction becomes possible, even in academia, desperately needs the sanity offered by a genuinely monist worldview, and yet it is becoming clear that the lifespan of the unconsciously anthropomorphic and so logically defective ‘monism of matter’ has almost run its course. This means that if rationality is to remain important to science, a renewed interest in The Philosophy of Freedom, as the principal source of sound epistemological argument concerning the only remaining monism is almost inevitable. But only if the contradictions present in Chapter Twelve of The Philosophy of Freedom are recognized for what they really are, and no further attempt is made to incorporate Darwin’s false logic, in even the slightest degree, into the otherwise fully consistent fabric of Steiner’s own vast evolutionary worldview.
To put my argument even more succinctly — anthroposophy must learn to rid itself of materialism (Darwinism) because otherwise the world will be unable to do so. Except, that is, to the degree that in the future others will be able to repeat Steiner’s great accomplishment — but without any contradictory elements.
All comments, critical or otherwise, are most welcome.
Don Cruse
subtle dualism
Don, I've appreciated your consistent plea for a congruent Monism of Spirit over the past 6 years and it's great to read your words on this site. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. If you've read any of my journals, you'll see that I share your main concern, although I get to it from a slightly different slant. I believe that one can see an implicit dualism running throughout the book, however I distinguish between the actual intuitive occurrence to which Steiner was consistently pointing (The Monism of Thought) and the results of clothing his language with implicit dualistic functions. It is almost the exact reverse of what you brilliantly point out happening in neo-darwinism: neo-Darwinism sneaks in a language that undermines its entire point. I see this happening in each of Steiner's main Monistic works. Part of their beauty, utility and major significance is that that Steiner's point is not drowned out in the subtle dualism in which it is clothed.
I guess one way to say my main point is that I believe Steiner attempted to use a very specific lexicon in order to clothe his experience of the self-sustaining reality of thinking. There is an inherent mismatch between the experience he pointed towards and the nature (and assumptions) of the linguistic system in which he spoke. I won't go into here, but I think there are multiple passages in his epistemological works that demonstrate he had not yet fully brought his Monism consistently into expression. For Steiner this was not that big a deal because he grasped the capacity of thinking from the inside. However, for his students I believe that the subtle dualism encourages habits of thought that reinforce the I/World split even as they intellectually overcome the split via his works.
In my opinion this creates a confusion on two levels. On the simpler level, it can just be frustrating in the way we all experience when we can't quite find the words to describe what we are trying to say. However, on the more pernicious level I believe that we can see that Steiner himself was struggling not just with the mismatch between experience and language, but the movement between two ways of seeing; one being a Monastic vision and the other being implicitly dualistic.
There are many instances in Steiner's epistemological works in which his very formulation of concepts implies an ontological separation that entails a dualistic framework; any time he talks about a concept being selected and then attached onto a percept by an observer who stands outside each of these as something entirely different. We see Barfield's "idols of the study" as providing a firm starting point for this sort of expression.
In my journal called The Separation Imagination, you can read where I locate the root of this difficulty in his works.
Don, I remember being struck when I first read Steiner saying:
"The same ethical individualism that I have developed on the basis of views already given could also be derived from the theory of evolution. The final conviction would be the same; only the path by which it was reached would be different."
There is much that can be unpacked in that sentence, but for now I just want to mention how it struck me odd when compared to his earlier comment that:
"There is no denying that before anything else can be understood, thinking must be understood....we cannot start from the elements in existence that came first in time, but we must begin with {thinking}."
When reading Chapter 12, I often wonder if Steiner was trying to make no reference to the actual mechanism of natural selection and random mutation, but merely wanting to point out Darwin's insistence that organic forms develop their complexity from simpler forms of life. At this point in his life, I imagine Steiner was acutely aware of the fundamental difference between a Goethean view of development and a mechanical view.
Jeff
Defence of Darwinism and Chapter 12
Hi Don,
Thank you for your article which has had me thinking through my experiences with Chapter 12 for about a week.
I've finally posted my own feelings and thoughts about Chapter 12 in my journal - please feel free to disagree with anything or everything I've said there!
Regards,
Tim Bourke