Lev Shestov - Potestas Clavium - Part III

Let us now raise the question: What is philosophy? It must be a science, Husserl answers us. Those who, according to Husserl, replaced philosophy with wisdom said the same thing. But this is only one of philosophy's characteristics. And, then, a new question: What is science? Before listening to Husserl's answer, let us hear again once more what the ancients tell us. Let us listen first to the word of Plotinus who gives us a definition of philosophy that is extremely brief and simple but very remarkable in its kind. Ti oûn hê philosophia; to timiôtaton, "What is philosophy? It is the most important." As you see, Plotinus does not even think it necessary to tell us whether philosophy is a science or not. It is the most important, the most necessary. It is a matter of indifference to him whether it be a science, an art, or something as different from art as from science. Let us listen now to Aristotle:

"For the most divine science is also the most honorable; and this science alone must be, in two ways, most divine. For the science which it would be most meet for God to have is a divine science, and so is any science that deals with divine objects; and this science alone has both these qualities; for (1) God is thought to be among the causes of all things and to be a first principle, and (2) such a science either God alone can have, or God above all others. All the sciences, indeed, are more necessary than this, but none is better" (Met., A. 2, 982b).

So spoke the great thinkers of antiquity. Husserl ought certainly to have accepted the definitions of Plotinus and Aristotle. However, he probably would have rejected certain of the latter's expressions; I do not think he would have agreed to repeat after the Stagyrite that philosophy is the divine among the sciences, that it is most proper to God, and that it has God for its object. No, Husserl would not agree to make these words his own. The word "God" would have recalled to him wisdom, which he considers, as we know, the enemy of philosophy and drives out of his domain, as Plato drove out the poets. Nevertheless, one would not be mistaken in saying that Aristotle's words express entirely Husserl's attitude toward philosophy, with the difference that where Aristotle, following the custom of the ancients, speaks of God and the divine, Husserl employs expressions to which modern ears educated by science are more accustomed. To this question, What is philosophy? Husserl replies, "A science of true principles, of sources, of origins, of rhidzômata pantôn (the roots of all things)." But Aristotle also says: "Clearly, then, Wisdom is knowledge about certain principles and causes" (Met., A. i, 982a).

When a modern scientist speaks of principles, of the roots of things, it is obviously God that he has in mind, but a God whose existence he places outside of every theological or even metaphysical system. The fear of reducing philosophy to the role of ancilla theologiae has still not completely disappeared in us, and we prefer to express our thoughts in our own way. This is perfectly understandable and even commendable; it is more than probable that if Aristotle had lived in our time he would have wished to avoid every approach to dogmatic theology. If one assumes that the words "God" and "divine" were used by Aristotle in the character of the superlative, the most beautiful, the most powerful that may be, one can say that Husserl has no reason to argue with him. This, furthermore, is what his article "Philosophy as a Rigorous Science" proves, an article which not only applies itself to determining the object and methods of philosophy but also sings to the glory of philosophy a veritable hymn in an inspired, prophetic tone. Husserl says:

"In all of contemporary life there is probably no idea that is more powerful, more irresistible, more triumphant, than that of science. Nothing can stop its victorious march. It seems that its legitimate goals embrace absolutely everything. If one thinks of it in its ideal achievement, it appears as reason itself, which does not admit any other authority beside or above itself" (Logos, I).

So, then, in Husserl's eyes philosophy is the supreme achievement of mankind, and its dominion will finally extend over all domains of human activity. For Husserl, just as for Aristotle, philosophy is divine and its object is God. Not, naturally, the God of Catholic or Mohammedan theology, but such a God appears necessary only from the point of view of practical goals. Aristotle says, "It is right to call philosophy the science which seeks truth, for the goal of theory is truth and the goal of practice is action," and Husserl would have subscribed to this sentence.

     Husserl is not content with simple declarations of principle, but tries to demonstrate that the pretensions of science are wellgrounded. "General statements do not mean much if one does not prove them, and the hopes that are founded on science have no importance if one does not point out the ways which lead to the realization of the goal" (Logos, p. 296).

     That is correct. If one is content with inspired declarations and prophetic promises, one falls back into that very wisdom we have so solemnly renounced. But how shall we discover these ways? How shall we justify the pretensions of science to becoming that supreme court where all questions that trouble mankind will find their solution?

     Let us recall that science does not recognize any other authority outside itself. This is the fundamental and dearest idea of Husserl. He declares categorically: "Science has spoken; from that moment on, wisdom is obliged to conform to it" (Ibid., p. 334). In other words: Roma locuta, causa finita [Rome has spoken, the case is closed]. Philosophy proclaims the infallibility of scientific judgment in the same terms (apparently intentionally) and according to the same formula as those that Catholicism used in the Middle Ages to affirm the infallibility and supreme authority of the papal throne. The rights of the pope were based on the revelation given to men by Holy Scripture, but on what does modern philosophy base the rights of reason?

     We shall proceed to this question in a moment, but first let us observe once more the immense importance that the theory of knowledge has and must have in philosophy. The theory of knowledge is not at all an abstract, harmless reflection on the methods of our thought; it determines in advance the sources whence our knowledge flows. It waters the rhidzômata pantôn out of which our life grows. Just as Catholicism needed the idea of the infallibility of the Church in order to obtain the right to point out to mankind the ways to salvation and life eternal, so philosophy, to attain the goals that it has set for itself, cannot and does not wish to admit any limitation to its power. When reason speaks ex cathedra, it cannot be mistaken. And so long as the theory of knowledge will not have led thinking man to this conviction, what sense can there be in raising any questions? For what is important to us is not simply to raise questions but to be able to answer them and to answer them "scientifically," i.e., in such a way that the answer will be obligatory for every rational man.

     Husserl's task was bequeathed to him by Greek philosophy. It would be erroneous to think that, in affirming the infallibility of reason, modern philosophy is inspired by the theology of the Middle Ages. On the contrary, Catholicism derived the idea of infallibility entirely from the ancient Greeks. But realizing well the fragile foundations on which the pretensions of reason rested, Catholicism tried to base its own pretensions on other principles.

     Husserl's problems then, are quite in the ancient tradition. He himself declares: "What characterizes the Socratic-Platonic revolution in philosophy, as well as the scientific reaction against Scholasticism at the beginning of modern times and especially the Cartesian revolution, is such a fully conscious will to rigorous science. Its impulse carries over to the great philosophers of the seventeenth and eighteenth century, is radically renewed in Kant's critique of reason and still dominates Fichte's philosophy. Ever anew the searchings have for their goal the true principles, the decisive formulas, the exact methods" (Logos, p. 292).

     These words contain briefly the entire genealogy of Husserl's thought: from Socrates and Plato through Descartes to Kant and Fichte. But this genealogy is correct in part only; we must not forget that, in denying metaphysics, in manifesting a kind of repugnance for it, Husserl separates himself from Plato, Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz. Differing in this respect from Kant also, he even abstains from openly raising the question, Is metaphysics possible? He assumes that for all his readers, as for himself, this question can be answered only in the negative. Metaphysics is wisdom - in other words, a hasty, prescientific attempt to resolve certain problems of the universe whose solution is most important to us. Metaphysics thus finds its justification, to a certain degree, in considerations of a practical order. It is good to console suffering mankind by telling it that there is a God, that the soul is immortal, that the wicked will be punished in another world, etc. And if this teaching is given by men of great talent, one can raise no objection to it. But it would be truly criminal to forget that all teachings of this kind answer only to temporary, passing needs: "We must remember our responsibility toward mankind. We must not sacrifice eternity for time; we must not, in order to satisfy to a certain degree our needs, bequeath to future generations our accrued and insurmountable difficulties. Weltanschauungen, different forms of wisdom, can argue: science alone can decide, and its decisions bear the stamp of eternity" (Logos, p. 337).

     I believe it necessary once again to draw the reader's attention to the character of the expressions employed by Husserl to clarify the object and claims of science. It is clearly seen from these quotations that Husserl's vocabulary could be perfectly well replaced by that of Aristotle, or even of the Catholic apologists; for Husserl, just as for Aristotle, philosophy is something divine, for its object is God. But the God of Husserl, quite like Aristotle's God, can be found only by following the way of scientific research. We must then consider "the theory of knowledge as a discipline preceding metaphysics." In other words, Husserl is willing to admit only a God to whom reason can testify for, as we know, there is no authority other than reason. But in modern as in ancient times, God was found by ways other than those of reason. Because of this and only because of this Husserl avoids the Aristotelian definitions of philosophy.

     Husserl is mistaken, I think, only on one point: men, and Husserl himself, have never been able, have never even wished, to admit a God to whom reason refused to bear witness. In this respect all religions, at least all the so-called positive religions, do not differ at all from secular wisdom and from rationalist philosophy. They also try to attain a "scientific" knowledge of truth, that is, a knowledge which can impose itself on every rational man. They have not been able to attain this result, but this does not mean anything. Philosophy also, as Husserl himself declares, has, in the person of its most illustrious representatives, made desperate efforts to conceive the truth in rational terms. Despite this, "there have not yet been established even the foundations of a scientific doctrine; the historically transmitted philosophy as well as the living philosophy which replaces it is at most only a scientific semi-fabrication, or a confused and undifferentiated mixture of general conceptions (Weltanschauungen) and theoretical knowledge" (Logos, p. 335).

     These words are hardly flattering to philosophy. Astrology and alchemy themselves would be justified in claiming more indulgence, not to speak of Catholic theology! It is not that astrology, alchemy, and Catholic theology have scorned reason. If the results of their efforts were, according to Husserl, so pitiful, the cause of this must be sought elsewhere. And quite naturally one then asks himself: is it not the contrary of that which Husserl assumes happened here? It may be that the results obtained by astrology, theology, and philosophy were so poor precisely because men did not agree to renounce reason where, "according to the very nature of things," reason must be silent and efface itself! In his theory of knowledge, which must precede metaphysics, Husserl does not even suspect that the problem of the theory of knowledge consists perhaps in determining the moment when he must deprive reason of its directing role or limit its rights. Husserl is convinced in advance that if there were failures, these derived from the fact that the sovereign power of reason was limited by someone. That is why his theory of knowledge, like those of his predecessors, applies itself to justifying reason and to re-establishing its rights by all possible means.