The Origin and Goal of the Human Being

GA 53 — 8 June 1905, Berlin

Philosophy and Theosophy

In the series of lectures on the relationship between universities and the theosophical movement, today's lecture is the fourth on theosophy and its relationship to the philosophy faculty. We must bear in mind that this faculty is perhaps of much greater significance for education and contemporary culture than the other three faculties, because the philosophy faculty encompasses the discipline of specialized sciences that extend across the entire field of research, so that anyone who, without any particular bias, simply wants to delve into wisdom and worldview for the sake of knowledge and education must turn their attention to it. The philosophy faculty has undergone great changes; it has grown from an educational institution into an institution of mis-education. It used to be a so-called arts faculty—a very significant name—which was intended to prepare students for the study of theology, philosophy, and medicine.

You know that what we call a university today originated in the 12th and 13th centuries, and we can still observe up to the 18th century how those who wanted to ascend to the heights through study had to go through a preparatory course of study in philosophy. This was arranged in such a way that the aim was not to acquire a specific subject-specific education, but rather a formal education that was intended to shape the intellectual training of the individual in a formal manner. Among other things, rhetoric, dialectics, astronomy, and music were taught. The latter was understood as an understanding of harmonies in the structure of the world and in the smaller phenomena that surround us. Emphasis was placed on maturing the mind first. The trend of our time is to place very little importance on formal education.

I must touch on something that seems very heretical in our time. Today, there is a great tendency to underestimate everything formal in favor of the material. Great importance is attached to comprehending things with the intellect as far as possible, to gathering as much knowledge as possible. Anyone who views things as is customary today will not understand me. Who today would not immediately take sides if someone said the following: There are two methods of learning languages. One method, which is considered ridiculous today, is one in which people are plagued with meaningless practice sentences, such as: My father turned fifty today. — My aunt is traveling to Paris tomorrow. — People smile at such things — and yet the question is whether they have reason to do so. Today, people think it would be better to take sentences from some great classic. So today, we have come to avoid such banal sentences in school; we prefer to take sentences from the classics, which are then torn apart and dissected, making them unpalatable to people. So on the one hand, we find the meaningless, and on the other, the picking apart. Today, it would be difficult to find anyone who would take the side of the former. And yet, for the psychologist, there is no question that the first path is the right one. It is clear to him that people must stick to the formal as long as possible, that their minds must be called upon as late as possible, and that we learn best when we are as indifferent as possible to the content of things. In the years when the mind is most receptive, it should first be trained. Let us first learn to speak properly before our thoughts are translated into words; first let the mind mature underground, let it acquire the ability to develop logic as formally as possible, then this precious asset of humanity will slowly mature. It is clear that one cannot simply apply one's mind to a problem. So first formal education, before what can emerge as the richest fruit in man matures.

The faculty of arts was the name given to the faculty of philosophy in the Middle Ages. It was an artificial way of dealing with intellectual material and contained an overwhelming mass of ideas. Later, the lower levels of the faculty of arts were added to the grammar school. Today's faculty of philosophy does not deserve its name; it is an aggregate. That was not always the case. When the University of Berlin was founded, the philosopher Fichte was at its helm. At that time, each individual scientific discipline was integrated into a large organism. Fichte was imbued with the conviction that the world is a unity and that any knowledge that is not imbued with this is fragmentary. Why, for example, do we study botany, mathematics, history? We study these sciences because we want to gain insight into the whole structure of the world. In other times, delving into the specialized sciences would not have been so disastrous. But the image of the unity of the world has faded. The philosophy department is supposed to pursue science for its own sake. It used to do so, but this brought it into conflict with cultural life. Friedrich Schiller already spoke in a speech at the University of Jena about the difference between the philosophical mind and the bread scholar. And at that time, it wasn't so bad. Those who have a philosophical mind can pursue anything; every science opens up the greatest perspectives for them. They see the greatest secrets of the world in plants, just as psychologists see them in the human soul. Specialization had to occur. Today, we know too much to be able to master everything. Great minds such as Leibniz, Leonardo da Vinci, and others were able to master the knowledge of their time. Today, this is rare. We can only hope that a new life will come to the specialized sciences. For the bread scholar, however, science is a cow that gives him milk, nothing more.

There would be no objection if technical colleges were set up for everything to study for a living. But that has no more value than learning any other trade. From the point of view of knowledge of the world, it makes no difference whether I become a shoemaker or a chemist. The awareness should become commonplace that studying a particular subject is no more valuable than any other study in life. The chemist, botanist, and so on are in the same position as the tradesman in relation to the great philosopher. But anyone who realizes what it means to acquire a philosophical education knows that there must be places where science is pursued for its own sake. In this respect, the fragmentation into specialized sciences is not good, especially at a time when materialism has taken hold of everything. Nowadays, the philosophy department is nothing more than a training ground for high school teachers. In and of itself, there would be nothing wrong with that: it would be best if philosophy devoted itself to the task of training educated teachers. Educating the human soul is one of the most beautiful tasks in life. However, only those who are artists in the field of psychology and who can take on the task of guiding souls will be able to accomplish this. It is not without reason that the great minds of the world have called man a microcosm. There is no branch of knowledge that cannot be used to educate the human soul. That is why educators will be far from wanting to simply cram knowledge into young people, and will come to the formal in a completely natural way. Science occupies a very special position when viewed from an educational perspective. What a painter knows from studying painting does not make him a painter. What a musician has studied does not make him a musician. The same is true of the educator. Nothing is all knowledge for the educator unless, as with the painter or musician, it has been transformed into art, so that his mind, like physical organs, has absorbed what he knows, so that the knowledge is, as it were, completely digested. The human soul should be an organism in which spiritual nourishment is transformed and assimilated. Only then is a person a philosophical mind. It is right that universities teach specialized sciences. But what should emerge from them is a different kind of person, a person who has become an artist.

If theosophical thinking is actually applied there, it will not depend on scientific examinations. Just as someone who only has erudition does not possess the qualities of an artist, so too will someone who has only passed the necessary examinations never become an artist. A new approach must be adopted in the examination system. The examiner must test not only knowledge, but also what kind of person the candidate is, whether he has the right outlook on life, how much he has contributed of his own, and to what extent he has become a new person. This has been neglected in our materialistic age. When the external appearance of things was considered to be the be-all and end-all, today's philosophy faculty came into being. All other sciences were born out of philosophy. In the past, people were aware of the connection between all knowledge, but today, if you don't condemn the Middle Ages, you arouse prejudice. However, back then, people understood what was important for the world and for humanity.

In 1388, a man was appointed to the University of Vienna as a professor of both theology and mathematics! Today, a professor would faint at the thought. But we know what great services mathematical thinking can render to that which theology leads us to. Those who learn to think in such a way that they study mathematics learn to think in a completely different way and can also be mystics without becoming fanatics. Those who have not acquired comprehensive knowledge can only succumb to suggestion. With this, they embark on a specialized course of study. What can they know if they have gone through a purely philosophical high school education? What can they know about mathematics? Only mathematical concepts, without any idea that mathematics introduces us to the great laws of the universe.

It was not so long ago that people still knew this. In the Middle Ages, this view was not dangerous, for it is not true that the iron theology of the Middle Ages would have bound everything in chains of slavery. The best proof of this is that at the University of Paris, for example, a topic was debated: “The discourses of theology are based on fables.” “The Christian religion prevents anything superficial from being added to theology.” It was possible to debate these topics at that time. Today, people debate differently. In the past, debating was fruitful because people had acquired a formal education. Today, it is very easy to prove errors in reasoning. But all debate based on errors in reasoning is fruitless because it is not clear that those who debate must first understand the technique of debate. In the Middle Ages, mathematics was considered the basis of all knowledge, even art. This allowed for the great idealism that can exist and which our time cannot comprehend. A characteristic statement by Leonardo da Vinci, this representative of great idealism, is that mechanics is the paradise of mathematical sciences. He was both an artist and a mathematician. The physical education of his time resided in his soul. Likewise, his painterly creations speak to us of the way of thinking and the knowledge of his time. He called the outer world the paradise of mathematics! Where he built bridges, thoughts about the spirit of humanity flowed to him . . . [gap].

In the theosophical sense, the “sacrifice of the world” means that the less one does for oneself, the more one is able to transfer oneself into the culture of one's time. What we develop in ourselves is not as important as what we transplant into the world. It is not what we perfect in ourselves, but what we give to the world that is the pledge and the pound that is imperishable. Leonardo da Vinci's thoughts about the spirit of humanity flowed to him as thoughts of mathematics from his bridge building. The gods wanted free beings, not a thing in nature. What man consciously creates in the worldly realm is an execution of the divine plan for the world. The most mundane can become sacred if it is for the benefit of humanity. If we take this point of view, we have absorbed the great idealism within us, and this idealism should permeate the entire philosophy department. All the specialized sciences can be accommodated within the framework of our philosophy faculty. But as a center of worldview, it should be at the core and not take a back seat to the individual specialized sciences. Through this central philosophical science, we would arrive at the artistic view. Only those who have absorbed this central attitude of having life within themselves should be awarded a doctorate. The final examination of the philosopher should be a test of his or her way of life; the only honorary title of Doctor of Philosophy should be based on the fact that the substance of this way of life is contained within the human being. Otherwise, the Doctor of Philosophy is an arabesque, a pretension, a social form. Knowledge alone does not belong to the philosophical doctor, but knowledge transformed into the art of living. Such consciousness has already been attained. Thus, a philosophical doctor will only have the maturity appropriate to a philosophical mind. A widespread dissemination of theosophical worldview would naturally lead to this, for theosophical worldview seeks to develop forces that lie dormant in human beings. The theosophist is aware that human beings are capable of development, that just as a child must develop, so too can the spirit and the soul develop to a higher level. Human beings are not yet complete when they leave high school and university. The theosophical attitude seeks to emphasize more and more that human beings are only at the beginning of their development. The philosophy department should set the tone in this regard. It should develop from a mathematical mindset toward a spiritual direction; everything should converge on this point. Theosophy is not so difficult. It would happen quite naturally that, if there were a theosophical faculty, for example, all sciences would eventually become theosophical.

Physiology is the science of phenomena in plants, animals, and humans. When physiology considers the structure of the eye and so on, it uses images to draw the conclusion that humans see. Today, physiology teaches us that all our sensory perceptions depend on our sensory organs; it teaches us the subjective. And finally, it says that we know nothing at all about what lies outside our sensory perceptions. If we consider this and do not remain thoughtless, but continue to investigate spiritually, we arrive at exactly the same teaching that occultism gives us, that everything sensory is illusion, and that the teaching of sensory energy, worked out from a theosophical standpoint, leads to great depths. One needs physiology; one must study it and then crown it with philosophy. There is no choice in this. Today, philosophy is only one part of the philosophy faculty. It no longer has any power; it is a subject like any other. That should not be the case; it should give power to the other subjects, but instead it has been colored by individual disciplines. The fact that thinking is essentially materialistic stems from the fact that it is not philosophy and the great understanding of the world that have the final say, but rather psychology, which has come over from other subjects and become an experimental science. If one believes that psychology can only be practiced accurately when one experiments on human beings as one would on an inanimate crystal, then one regards human beings as something inanimate, soulless. Psychology can recognize nothing but material expression. Theosophy would make it clear that the study of physiology and that of psychology are in a certain sense one and the same, and would integrate both into the great organization of knowledge. Because they are incapable of doing so, today's universities cannot bring an idealistic worldview into the world. The philosophy faculty is not even capable of being the standard-bearer of a philosophical attitude. The faculty should not be an aggregate of different subjects, but should allow them to grow together into a common soul. Then, without wanting to transplant theosophy itself into the universities, theosophy will be taught. Otherwise, however, the philosophy faculty will remain an aggregate without a spiritual bond. And knowledge should become a living whole, from whose individual members the spirit shines forth. As theosophists, we will be satisfied if only this philosophical study has the prerogative and if it develops further on this basis. Then it is well preserved in theosophy. We want nothing other than what everyone must want for the individual sciences for their own good. If theosophy is to fulfill its task, it must not be a doctrine, but must be life. With every step we take, we must be theosophists; everything we do in life must be imbued with this living theosophical attitude. Then the theosophical movement will be more than that; it will be one of the most powerful cultural factors of the present. But it must gain influence over those who are chosen to lead our culture. We must profess and represent Theosophy wherever we want to work in life. World events are not dead, but alive. Beings, not circumstances, bring about the development of the human spirit. If theosophy is a world of the spirit, then theosophy is one of the most powerful cultural factors of the present. It is not the reading of theosophical writings that matters, but the attitude, the fact that people are moved by it in their everyday lives.