HAS THE PROBLEM BEEN SOLVED?
What is the meaning, the value, and purpose of life, and what is the
highest and the eternal in life--the great reality? This is the question
that Eucken would solve. Before attempting a solution of his own, he
examines those that have already been offered. His discussion of these
theories is remarkable for the fairness, breadth of view, sympathy,
insight, and accurate knowledge that is shown. There is no superficial
criticism, neither does he concern himself with the inessential details
of the theories.
Jest-books tell us of a defendant against whom a claim for compensation
was made by a complainant who alleged that the former's dog had bitten
him. The defence was, first, that the dog was lame, blind, and
toothless; second, that it had died a week before; and third, that the
defendant never possessed a dog. A sensible judge would wish to be
satisfied in regard to the third statement before wasting time
discussing the others; if it proved to be true, then the case would be
at an end. The defences of philosophical systems are often similar, and
the critic is tempted to waste time discussing details when he should go
to the root of the matter. Eucken does not fall into this error. His
special method is to seek the idea or ideas which lie at the root of the
proposed solution; if these are unsatisfactory, then he does not
consider it necessary to discuss them further. Hence his work is free
from the flippant and superficial argument so common to-day; he makes a
fair and serious endeavour to find out the truth (if any) that is at the
basis of the proposed solutions, and does not hesitate to give them
their due meed of praise even though he considers them to be ultimately
unsatisfactory.
Before a solution can be regarded as a satisfactory one, Eucken holds
that it should satisfy certain conditions. It should offer an
explanation for life which can be a firm basis for life, it must admit
of the possibility of human freedom, and must release the human being
from sordid motives--unless it satisfy these conditions, then it cannot
be accepted as final.
The solutions of the problem of life that have been offered he considers
to be five--Religion and Immanental Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism and
Individualism, the first two regarding the invisible world as the
reality in life, the others laying emphasis on man's life in the present
world. The reader will perhaps wonder how his choice has fallen upon
these systems of thought and these alone. The explanation is a simple
one: he considers it necessary to deal only with those theories which
can form, and have formed, bases for a whole system of life. Mere
theoretical ideas of life, especially negative ideas such as those of
agnosticism and scepticism, do not form such a basis, but the five
chosen for discussion can, and have to some extent, posed as complete
theories of life, upon which a system of life can be built.
Has _Religion_ solved the question? If it has, then it must have done so
in that which must be considered its highest form--in Christianity.
Christianity has attempted the solution by placing stress upon a higher
invisible world, a world in sharp contrast with the mere world of sense,
and far superior to it. It unites life to a supernatural world, and
raises mankind above the level of the natural world. It has brought out
with great clearness the contrast between the higher world and the world
of sin, and has shown the need for a break with the evil in the world.
It has given to man a belief in freedom, and in the necessity for a
complete change of heart. It has proved a source of deliverance from the
feeling, of guilt, and a comfort in suffering. Indeed, considering all
the facts, there seems to be no doubt that, of all the solutions
offered, religion has been the most powerful factor in the history of
mankind.
Its influence would continue for the present and future, were it not
that doubt has been cast upon its very foundations, and had not
circumstances arisen to take men's minds away from thoughts of a higher
and invisible world, and to concentrate them to a greater extent than
formerly upon the world of sense. The progress of the natural sciences
has done much to bring about the change. Christianity made man the
centre of the universe, for whom all things existed, but the sciences
have insisted upon a broader view of the universe, and have deposed man
from his throne, and given him a much humbler position. Then as the
conception of law became more prominent, and scientists became more and
more inclined to explain all things as the result of natural laws, the
idea of a personal God in constant communion with, and supervision over
mankind, fell into disfavour.
And the study of history has caused questions to be raised. Some
historians have endeavoured to show that the idea of an overworld is
merely the characteristic of a certain stage in the evolution of
mankind, and that the ideas of religion are, after all, little more than
the mental construction of a God upon the image of man's own self.
History has attacked the doctrinal form of religion, and has endeavoured
to show that religions have been very largely coloured and influenced by
the prevailing ideas of the time; and the question naturally arises as
to whether there is anything more in religion than these temporary
elements.
And this is not all. In the present age the current of human activity is
strong. Man is beginning to accomplish things in the material world, and
is becoming anxious to accomplish more. His railways cover the lands,
his ships sail the seas, and his aeroplanes fly through the air. He has
acquired a taste for this world, a zest for the conquest and the
utilising for his own pleasure and benefit of the world of nature. And
when this occurs, the overworld sinks into the background--he is
satisfied with the present, and feels no need, except under special
circumstances, of a higher world. The sense world at present makes a
strong appeal--and the stronger it becomes, the less he listens to the
call of an overworld.
The sciences, history, and the special phases of human activity have
drawn attention from a higher, invisible world, and have cast doubts
upon its very existence.
As a result of this, "Religion (in the traditional form), despite all it
has effected, is for the man of to-day a question rather than an answer.
It is itself too much of a problem to interpret to us the meaning of our
life, and make us feel that it is worth the living."
In these words Eucken states his conviction that Christianity in its
orthodox forms cannot solve the problem of the present. This, however,
is not all he has to say concerning religion. He is, in truth, a great
believer in religion, and as will be seen, he believes that later it
will again step forth in a changed form as "the fact of facts" to wield
a power perhaps greater than ever before.
As in the case of religion, _Immanent Idealism_ is a theory that gives
life an invisible basis, but the invisible has been regarded as that
which lies at the root of the present world, and not as a separate
higher world outside our own. The Divine it considers not as a personal
being apart from the world, but as a power existing in and permeating
it, that indeed which gives to the world its truth and depth. Man
belongs to the visible world, but inwardly he is alive to the presence
of a deeper reality, and his ambition must be to become himself a part
of this deeper whole. If by turning from his superficial life he can set
himself in the depths of reality, then a magnificent life, with the
widest prospects, opens out before him. "He may win the whole of
infinity for his own, and set himself free from the triviality of the
merely human without losing himself in an alien world." And if he does
so, he is led to place greater emphasis upon the high ideals of life
than upon material progress. He learns to value the beautiful far above
the merely useful; the inner life above mere existence, a genuine
spiritual culture above the mere perfecting of natural and social
conditions. There is brought into view a new and deeper life in which
the emphasis is placed upon the good, the beautiful, and the true. In
this way idealism has inspired many men to put forth their energies for
the highest aims, has lifted the individual above the narrowness of a
life devoted to himself alone, and has produced characters of
exceptional beauty and strength. It claims, indeed, to be able to shape
the world of man more satisfactorily than religion can, for it has no
need for doctrines of the Divine, the Divine being immediately present
in the world. But despite its great influence in the past, its power
has of late been considerably weakened.
The question of the existence of a deeper invisible reality in the world
has become as problematic as the doctrines of religion.
To be a whole-hearted believer in the older forms of idealism it is
necessary that the universe be regarded as ultimately reasonable and
harmonious, and there must be a belief in the possibilities of great
development on the part of the human being. But a serious study of
things reveals to us the fact that the universe is not entirely
reasonable and harmonious. If it were, then man's effort towards the
ideal would be helped by the whole universe, but that is far from being
the case; progress means fight, and difficult fight; there is definite
opposition to the efforts of man to raise himself. Moreover, there is
evil in the world, let pantheists and others say what they will. Eucken
refuses to close his eyes to, or to explain away, opposition, pain, and
evil--the world is far from being wholly reasonable and harmonious, and
idealists must acknowledge this fact. The natural sciences, too, by
emphasising the reign of law, tend to limit more and more the
possibilities of the human being, ultimately robbing him of all
freedom--hence of all possibility of creation. And how can one be an
enthusiastic devotee of idealism if he is led to doubt man's power to
aim at, fight towards, or even choose the highest?
Idealism was at its height in those red-letter days when a high state of
culture had been attained, and great personalities produced masterpieces
in art, music, and literature. The progress of the sciences and of man's
natural activity has directed the spirit of the age towards material
progress; the ideals of mankind tend to become external and
superficial, and the interest in the invisible world falls to a minimum.
To some extent, too, idealism breathes of aristocracy--a most unpopular
characteristic in a democratic age. Experience shows that man is raised
above himself only in rare cases, and that the great things in the
realms of art, music, and literature are very largely the monopoly of
the few, and these mainly of the leisured classes. Hence the appeal of
idealism to certain types of men and women must necessarily be a feeble
one.
Then, again, there is the general indifference of mankind to lofty aims;
this militates against the power of idealism even more than in the case
of religion, for while in the latter there is the idea of a personal God
who is pleased or displeased urging men to renewed effort, the teachings
of idealism may appear to be mere abstractions, and can, as such,
possess little driving-power for the ordinary mind.
Idealism, too, seems to be a mere compromise between religion and a life
devoted to sense experience, and like most compromises it lacks the
enthusing power of the original ideas.
Finally, the whole theory leaves us in uncertainty--"that which was
intended to give a firm support, and to point out a clear course to our
life, has itself become a difficult problem."
But Eucken has more to say concerning idealism, even though in a
different form from the theories of the past. Indeed, his philosophy is
generally classed amongst the idealisms. Eucken makes a great endeavour,
however, to avoid the difficulties and objections to the idealistic
position; later we shall see that a great measure of success has crowned
his efforts.
Having discussed the two solutions that place special stress on the
invisible world, he proceeds to deal with the theories which emphasise
the relation of the life of man to the material world.
He first treats of _Naturalism_, that solution of the problem that makes
the sense experience of surrounding nature the basis of life,
subordinating even the life of the soul to the level of the natural,
material world.
Nature in the early ages had been superficially explained, often in the
light of religious doctrine. Man gave to nature a variety of
explanations and of colouring, depending largely upon his ideas of the
place of nature in relation to himself and to the invisible world. But
such anthropomorphic explanations could not long survive the progress of
the sciences, for a scientific comprehension of nature could only be
attained by getting rid of all human colouring, and by investigating
nature entirely by itself, out of all relation to the human soul. Man
then investigated nature more and more as an object apart from himself.
The first result of these investigations was to impress upon him the
reality of nature as something independent, and to increase on a very
large scale his knowledge of, and control over nature. When man began to
formulate and understand nature, he began, too, to invent machines to
profit from the knowledge he gained. Hence followed a marvellously
fruitful period of human activity, an activity which at first
strengthened man in his own soul, and gave him increased consciousness
of independence and power. While he was compelled to admit the greatness
of the natural world, he became more and more convinced that he himself
was far greater, for could he not put the laws of nature to his own use
and profit? Hence the gain to man at this stage of the development of
the sciences was very great, for he had come to appreciate more than
before the superiority of the human soul over the material world. Hence
resulted a more robust type of life, "a life energetic, masculine,
pressing forward unceasingly." Matters, however, were not destined to
remain long at this stage. As man's knowledge of the processes of nature
increased further, a twofold result followed. On the one hand, the sense
world of nature became increasingly absorbing in interest; on the other
hand, laws were formulated and nature was conceived of as being a chain
of cause and effect, a combination of mechanical elements whose
interactions were according to law, and could be foretold with the
utmost precision.
These two factors worked in the same direction, namely, that of
rendering less necessary the conception of a spiritual world. The
interest of mankind became so concentrated upon material things that the
interest in the invisible decreased, while the mechanical, soulless
elements with their ceaseless actions and reactions in definite order,
and according to inviolable law, were held sufficient to account for the
phenomena of nature. The keynote was "relation to environment"; a
constantly changing environment, changing according to law, called for
ceaseless readjustment, and the adaptation to environment was held to be
the stimulus to all activity in the natural world.
The later development of biology, and the doctrine of the evolution of
species, gradually extended this conception of nature to include man
himself.
What he had regarded as his distinctive characteristics were held to be
but the product of natural factors, and his life was regarded, too, as
under the domain of rigid, inviolable law. There was no room for, and no
need of, the conception of free, originative thought. Thought was
simply an answer to the demand that the sense world was making, entirely
dependent upon the external stimulus, just as any other activity was
entirely dependent on an external stimulus. So thought came to be
regarded as resulting from mere sense impression, which latter
corresponded to the external stimulus. It is obvious that the idea of
the freedom of the human soul, and of human personality as previously
understood, had to go. Man was simply the result of the interaction of
numerous causes--and like the rest of nature, involved no independent
spiritual element. Everything that was previously regarded as spiritual
was interpreted as a mere adjunct to, or a shadow of, the sense world.
Such a conception accounted for the whole of nature and of man, and so
became an explanation of the universe, a philosophy.
In such a theory self-preservation becomes the aim of life, the struggle
for existence the driving-power, and adaptation to environment the means
to the desired end. Hence it comes about that only one standard of value
remains, that of usefulness, for that alone can be regarded as valuable
which proves to be useful towards the preservation and enjoyment of the
natural life. The ideas of the good, the beautiful, and the true, lose
the glory of their original meaning, and become comparatively barren
conceptions. Hence at a stroke the spiritual world is wiped away, the
soul of man is degraded from its high position, the great truths of
religion are cast aside as mere illusions.
The naturalistic explanation possesses the apparent advantage of being a
very simple one, and hence attracts the human mind with great force in
the early stages of mental culture. All the difficulties of the
conception of a higher world are absent, for the naturalistic position
does not admit of its existence. It gives, too, some purpose to life,
even though that purpose is not an ideal one.
Eucken is not reluctant to give the theory all the credit it deserves,
and he is prepared to admit that it fulfils to some extent the
conditions which he holds a satisfactory solution should fulfil.
He goes, however, immediately to the root of the matter, and finds that
the very existence of the theory of naturalism in itself is an eloquent
disproof of the theory. The existence of a comprehensive scientific
conception involves an activity which is far superior to nature itself,
for it can make nature the object of systematic study. An intellect
which is nothing more than a mirror of sense impressions can get little
beyond such sense impressions, whereas the highly developed scientific
conception of nature that obtains to-day is far beyond a mere collection
of sense impressions. Nature, indeed, is subdued and mastered by man;
why then degrade man to the level of a universe he has mastered? To
produce from the phenomena of nature a scientific conception of nature
demands the activity of an independent, originative power of thought,
which, though it may be conditioned by, and must be related to, sense
impressions, is far above mere sense impressions.
Naturalism, in directing attention to the things that are experienced,
fails to take proper account of the mind that experiences them; it
postulates nature without mind, when only by the mind processes can man
become aware of nature, and construct a naturalistic scheme of life. "To
a thorough-going naturalism, naturalism itself is logically impossible."
Hence the impossibility of the naturalistic theory as an explanation of
life.
Then it fails to provide a high ideal for life, and to release man from
sordid motives. It gives no place for love, for work for its own sake,
for altruistic conduct, or for devotion to the high ideals of life. The
aim of life is limited to this world--man has but to aim at the
enjoyment and preservation of his own life. The mechanical explanation
of life, too, does away with the possibility of human freedom and
personality, and it is futile to urge man to greater efforts when
success is impossible. It is a theory which does justice merely to a
life of pleasure and pain, its psychology has no soul, and its political
economy bases the community upon selfishness.
In this way Eucken disproves the claim of naturalism; in doing so he
points out that a satisfactory solution must take account of the life of
nature in a way which religion and idealism have failed to do.
Of late years _Socialism_ and _Individualism_ have come into prominence
as theories of life. Eucken attributes the movements in the first
instance to the receding into the background of the idea of an overworld
which gave meaning and value to life. When doubt was thrown upon
religion and idealism, when confidence in another world was shaken, man
lost to an extent his moral support. Where could he turn now for a firm
basis to life? He might, of course, turn from the invisible world to the
world of sense, to nature. But the first result of this is to make man
realise that he is separate from nature, and again he fails to find
support. He is an alien in the world of nature, and disbelieves the
existence of a higher world. When both are denied him he turns naturally
to his fellow-men--here at least he can find community of interest--here
at least he is among beings of his own type. Hence he confines his
attention to the life of humanity, and in this, the universe of
mankind, he hopes to find an explanation of his own life, and a value
for it.
The progress of humanity, then, must become the aim of life--all our
strength and effort must be focussed upon human nature itself. But an
immediate difficulty arises. Where are we to find Man? "Is it in the
social community where individual forces are firmly welded together to
form a common life, or among individuals as they exist for themselves in
all their exhaustless diversity?" If we put the community first, then
the social whole must be firmly rooted in itself and be independent of
the caprice of its members. The duty of the individual is to subordinate
himself to the community--this means socialism. If, on the other hand,
the great aim is to develop the individual and to give him the maximum
of opportunity to unfold his special characteristics, we arrive at an
opposing theory--that of individualism.
In the history of society we find an age of socialistic ideas followed
by one of individualistic ideas, and vice versa, and there is much that
is valuable in each, in that it tends to modify and disprove the other's
extreme position.
The present wave in the direction of _socialism_ arises, to an extent,
in reaction from the extremely individualistic position of previous
ages. Man is now realising that the social relations of life are of
importance as well as the character of his own life. He realises the
interdependence of members of a community, and the conception of the
State as a whole, a unit, instead of a mere sum of individuals, grows
up. The modern industrial development and the organisation of labour
have, too, emphasised the fact that the value of the individual depends
largely upon his being a part of society. His work must be in
co-operation with the work of others to produce the best effect; for in
such co-operation it produces effects which reach far beyond his own
individual capacity. Hence his life appears to receive value from the
social relations, and the social ideal is conceived. The development of
the individual no longer becomes the aim but rather the development of
the community. In setting out the development of society as his aim, the
individual makes considerable sacrifices. All that is distinctly
individual must go, in character, in work, in science, and art, and that
which is concerned with the common need of society must receive
attention. This means undoubtedly a limitation of the life of the
individual, and often entails a considerable sacrifice; but the
sacrifice is made because of the underlying belief that in the sum of
individual judgments there is reason, and that in the opinion of the
majority there is truth. This socialistic culture finds in the present
condition of society, plenty of problems to hand, and in its treatment
of these problems a vigorous socialistic type of life is developed. The
most pressing problem is concerned with the distribution of material and
spiritual goods. Material goods and the opportunity for spiritual
culture that go with them have been largely a monopoly of the
aristocracy. Now arises a demand for a more equal distribution, and this
is felt to be a right demand, not only from the point of view of
justice, but also for the sake of spiritual culture itself. So it is
that the movement for the social amelioration of the masses starts. The
welfare of humanity is its aim, and all things, religion, science, and
art, must work towards this end, and are only of value in so far as they
contribute towards it.
Now it is a fundamental principle of a logical socialistic system that
truth must be found in the opinions of the masses, and the average
opinion of mankind must be the final arbiter of good and evil. The
tendency of the masses as such is to consider material advancement the
most cherished good. Hence, inevitably, a thorough-going socialism must
become materialistic, even though at an earlier stage it was actuated by
the desire for opportunities of spiritual culture.
A genuinely socialistic culture, too, makes the individual of value only
as a member of society. This, Eucken affirms, is only true in the most
primitive societies. As civilisation progresses, man becomes conscious
of himself, and an inner life, which in its interests is independent of,
and often opposed to society, develops. His own thought becomes
important to man, and as his life deepens, religion, science, art, work
&c., become more and more a personal matter.
All such deepening of culture, and of creative spiritual activity, is a
personal matter. From this deepening and enriching of the inner life of
the individual proceeds creative spiritual activity, which attempts
spiritual tasks as an end in themselves, and which gradually builds up a
kingdom of truth and spiritual interest which immeasurably transcends
mere human standards. All these are historical facts of experience; the
socialistic system finds no place and no explanation for them, and
consequently it cannot be regarded as a sufficiently comprehensive
explanation of the problem. To a man who has once realised these
individual experiences, the merely human, socialistic system becomes
intolerable.
Again, if considerations of social utility limit creative activity, the
creations of such activity must be meagre in nature. Spiritual
creativeness is most fruitful when it is concerned with tasks that are
attempted for their intrinsic value, and is not fettered by the thought
of their usefulness to society.
It is, too, a dangerous thing to look for truth in the opinion of the
majority, for this is such a changing phenomenon that only a part, at
most, can be permanent truth. The course of history has taught us, too,
that great ideas have come to individuals and have been rejected by the
masses for long periods of time.
The immediate effect of the failure of socialism is the encouragement of
_individualism_, for indeed some of the arguments against the former are
arguments in favour of the latter. Individualism opens up a new life, a
life which is free, joyous, and unconventional.
But can individualism give a meaning and value to life as a whole? Man
cannot from his own resources produce a high ideal which compels him to
fight for higher development, and it is not possible for him from an
individualistic standpoint to regard himself as a manifestation of a
larger life. His whole life must be spent in the improvement of his own
condition. Even in the case of strongly marked personalities, they can
never get beyond themselves and their own subjective states, for they
must always live upon themselves, and eternally reflect upon their own
doings.
But such a view of life cannot satisfy man; he is a contemplative being,
and he must find some all-inclusive whole, of which he is a part. If he
fails to find it, life for him must become a blank, and he must fall a
prey to boredom and satiety. Man's life is not to be confined to his own
particular sphere, his life must extend far beyond that--he must concern
himself with the infinite in the universe; "He must view life--nay,
more, he must live it--in the light of this larger whole." A life based
upon individualism then, will seem, even in the case of strong
personalities, to be extremely narrow. How much more so will this be
true of the ordinary man, who takes little interest in his own
individuality, or pleasure in its development?
Thus it is that both forms of humanistic culture--socialism and
individualism--fail to give a real meaning to life. "Socialistic culture
directs itself chiefly to the outward conditions of life, but in care
for these it neglects life itself." Individualistic culture, on the
other hand, endeavours to deal with life itself, but fails to see life
as a whole, or as possessing any real inwardness.
Both types of culture are apt to deceive themselves in regard to their
own emptiness, because, unconsciously, they make more out of man than is
consistent with their assumptions. "They presuppose a spiritual
atmosphere as a setting for our human life and effort. In the one case,
this cementing of a union between individuals appears to set free the
springs of love and truth; in the other, each single unit seems to have
behind it the background of a spiritual world whose development is
fostered by means of its individual labour." In this way life acquires
in both cases a meaning, but it does so only by departing from both
positions, and taking up what is, at least partly, an idealistic
position.
The theories, too, can only be made really plausible by idealising man
to an unwarrantable extent. The socialist assumes that a change of
material surroundings will be immediately followed by a change in the
character of man, and that men will work happily together for the sake
of the community. The individualist asks us to believe that man is
naturally noble and highminded, and cares only for the higher and better
things. But experience, says Eucken, does not justify us in placing so
much faith in humanity. "Do we not see the great masses of our
population possessed by a passion that sweeps all before it, a reckless
spirit of aggressiveness, a disposition to lower all culture to the
level of their interests and comprehension--evincing the while a defiant
self-assertion? And on the side of individualism, what do we see? Paltry
meanness in abundance, embroidered selfishness, idle self-absorption,
the craving to be conspicuous at all costs, repulsive hypocrisy, lack of
courage despite all boastful talk, a lukewarm attitude towards all
spiritual tasks, but the busiest industry when personal advantage is
concerned."
The theories of socialism and individualism can never be adequate
explanations of the great problem of life, for life cannot have a real
meaning if man cannot strive towards some lofty aim far higher than
himself, and such a goal the two humanistic theories do not provide for
him.
Religion, Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism, Individualism, while calling
attention to important facts in life, all fail in themselves to form
adequate theories to explain life. We have given the main outlines of
Eucken's arguments, but such a brief summary cannot do justice to his
excellent evaluations of these theories--these the reader may find in
his own works.