Truth and Knowledge
GA 3
VI. Theory of Knowledge Free of Assumptions and Fichte's Science of Knowledge
[ 1 ] We have now defined the idea of knowledge. In the act of cognition this idea is directly given in human consciousness. Both outer and inner perceptions, as well as its own presence are given directly to the “I,” which is the center of consciousness. (It is hardly necessary to say that here “center” is not meant to denote a particular theory of consciousness, but is used merely for the sake of brevity in order to designate consciousness as a whole.) The I feels a need to discover more in the given than is directly contained in it. In contrast to the given world, a second world—the world of thinking—rises up to meet the I and the I unites the two through its own free decision, producing what we have defined as the idea of knowledge. Here we see the fundamental difference between the way the concept and the directly given are united within human consciousness to form full reality, and the way they are found united in the remainder of the world-content. In the entire remainder of the world picture we must conceive an original union which is an inherent necessity; an artificial separation occurs only in relation to knowledge at the point where cognition begins; cognition then cancels out this separation once more, in accordance with the original nature of the objective world. But in human consciousness the situation is different. Here the union of the two factors of reality depends upon the activity of consciousness In all other objects, the separation has no significance for the objects themselves, but only for knowledge. Their union is original and their separation is derived from the union. Cognition separates them only because its nature is such that it cannot grasp their union without having first separated them. But the concept and the given reality of consciousness are originally separated, and their union is derived from their original separation; this is why cognition has the character described here. Just because, in consciousness, idea and given are necessarily separated, for consciousness the whole of reality divides into these two factors; and again, just because consciousness can unite them only by its own activity, it can arrive at full reality only by performing the act of cognition. All other categories (ideas), whether or not they are grasped in cognition, are necessarily united with their corresponding forms of the given. But the idea of knowledge can be united with its corresponding given only by the activity of consciousness. Consciousness as a reality exists only if it produces itself. I believe that I have now cleared the ground sufficiently to enable us to understand Fichte's Science of Knowledge through recognition of the fundamental mistake contained in it. Of all Kant's successors, Fichte is the one who felt most keenly that only a theory of consciousness could provide the foundation for knowledge in any form, yet he never came to recognize why this is so. He felt that what I have called the second step in the theory of knowledge, and which I formulated as a postulate, must be actively performed by the I. This can be seen, for example, from these words:
“The science of knowledge, insofar as it is to be a systematic science, is built up in the same manner in which all possible sciences, insofar as they are systematic, are built up, that is, through a determination of freedom; which freedom, in the science of knowledge, is particularly determined: to become conscious of the general manner of acting of the intelligence. ... By means of this free act, something which is in itself already form, namely, the necessary act of the intelligence, is taken up as content and put into a new form, that is, the form of knowledge or of consciousness. ...”1Fichte, Sämtliche Werke, Collected Works, Berlin, 1845, Vol. I, P. 71.
What does Fichte here mean by the “acting of intelligence” if we express in clear concepts what he dimly felt? Nothing other than the production of the idea of knowledge, taking place in consciousness. Had Fichte become clear about this, then he would have formulated the above principle as follows: A science of knowledge has the task of bringing to consciousness the act of cognition, insofar as it is still an unconscious activity of the I; it must show that to objectify the idea of knowledge is a necessary deed of the I.
[ 2 ] In his attempt to define the activity of the I, Fichte comes to the conclusion: “The I as absolute subject is something, the being (essence) of which consists merely in postulating its own existence.”2For fundamentals of the scientific teaching of Fichte, see his Collected Works, Berlin, 1845, Vol. I, p. 97. For Fichte, this postulation of the I is the primal unconditioned deed, “it is the basis of all consciousness.”3Ibid. Vol. I, p. 91. Therefore, in Fichte's sense too, the I can begin to be active only through an absolute original decision. But for Fichte it is impossible to find the actual content for this original activity postulated by the I. He had nothing toward which this activity could be directed or by which it could be determined. The I is to do something, but what is it to do? Fichte did not formulate the concept of knowledge which the I must produce, and in consequence he strove in vain to define any further activity of the I beyond its original deed. In fact, he finally stated that to investigate any such further activity does not lie within the scope of theory. In his deduction of representation, he does not begin from any absolute activity of the I or of the not-I, but he starts from a state of determination which, at the same time, itself determines, because in his view nothing else is, or can be contained directly in consciousness. What in turn determines the state of determination is left completely undecided in his theory; and because of this uncertainty, one is forced beyond theory into practical application of the science of knowledge.4Ibid. Vol. I, p. 178. However, through this statement Fichte completely abolishes all cognition. For the practical activity of the I belongs to a different sphere altogether. The postulate which I put forward above can clearly be produced by the I only in an act which is free, which is not first determined; but when the I cognizes, the important point is that the decision to do so is directed toward producing the idea of cognition. No doubt the I can do much else through free decision. But if epistemology is to be the foundation of all knowledge, the decisive point is not to have a definition of an I that is “free,” but of an I that “cognizes.” Fichte has allowed himself to be too much influenced by his subjective inclinations to present the freedom of the human personality in the clearest possible light. Harms, in his address, On the Philosophy of Fichte, (p. 15) rightly says: “His world-view is predominantly and exclusively ethical, and his theory of knowledge has no other feature.” Cognition would have no task to fulfill whatever if all spheres of reality were given in their totality. But the I, so long as it has not been inserted by thinking into the systematic whole of the world-picture, also exists as something merely directly given, so that it does not suffice to point to its activity. Yet Fichte is of the opinion that where the I is concerned, all that is necessary is to seek and find it. “We have to search for the absolute, first, and unconditioned fundamental principle of human knowledge. It cannot be proven nor determined if it is to be absolute first principle.”5Ibid. Vol. I, p. 91. We have seen that the only instance where proof and definitions are not required is in regard to the content of pure logic. The I, however, belongs to reality, where it is necessary to establish the presence of this or that category within the given. This Fichte does not do. And this is why he gave his science of knowledge a mistaken form. Zeller6Eduard Zeller (1814–1908), Geschichte der deutschen Philosophie seit Leibnitz, History of German Philosophy Since Leibnitz, Munich, 1871–75, p. 605. Eduard Zeller studied and taught at Tübingen, later (1847) becoming professor of Theology at Bern, later (1849) professor of Theology, afterward of Philosophy at Marburg. In 1862 he was made professor of Philosophy at Heidelberg, afterward at Berlin to his retirement in 1895. His masterwork is the Philosophie der Greichen, Philosophy of the Greeks, 1844–52. He was recognized throughout the academic world for his learning and contributions to scholarship, and received many distinctions and honors. His Philosophie der Greichen has been transl. into English by S. F. Alleyne, 2 vols. 1881. In addition, an abridged version prepared by Zeller (1883) also appeared in English in 1896, as did a number of his other writings. remarks that the logical formulas by which Fichte attempts to arrive at the concept of the I only lightly hide his predetermined purpose to reach his goal at any cost, so that the I could become his starting point. These words refer to the first form in which Fichte presented his science of knowledge in 1794. When it is realized that, owing to the whole trend of his philosophy, Fichte could not be content with any starting point for knowledge other than an absolute decree, it becomes clear that he has only two possibilities for making this beginning appear intelligible. One possibility is to focus the attention on one or another of the empirical activities of consciousness, and then crystallize out the pure concept of the I by gradually stripping away everything that did not originally belong to consciousness. The other possibility is to start directly with the original activity of the I, and then to bring its nature to light through self-contemplation and self-observation. Fichte chose the first possibility at the beginning of his philosophical path, but gradually went over to the second.
[ 3 ] On the basis of Kant's synthesis of “transcendental apperception”7The perception of an object involving the consciousness of the pure self as subject. (Translator) Fichte came to the conclusion that the activity of the I consists entirely in combining the material of experience into the form of judgment. To judge means to combine predicate with subject. This is stated purely formally in the expression: a == a. This proposition could not be made if the unknown factor x which unites the two a's did not rest on an absolute ability of the I, to postulate. For the proposition does not mean a exists, but rather: if a exists, then so does a. In other words there is no question of postulating a absolutely. In order, therefore, to arrive at something which is valid in a quite straightforward way, the only possibility is to declare the act of postulating as such to be absolute. Therefore, while a is conditional the postulation of a is itself unconditional. This postulation, however, is a deed of the I. To the I is ascribed the absolute and unconditional ability to postulate. In the proposition a == a, one a is postulated only because the other a is already postulated, and indeed is postulated by the I. “If a is postulated in the I, then it is postulated, or then it is.”8Fichte, Sämtliche Werke, Collected Works, Berlin, 1845, Vol. I, p. 94. This connection is possible only on condition that there exists in the I something which is always constant, something that leads over from one a to the other. The above mentioned x is based on this constant element. The I which postulates the one a is the same as the I which postulates the other a. This means that I == I. This proposition expressed in the form of a judgment: If the I exists, then the I exists, is meaningless. The I is not postulated by presupposing another I; it presupposes itself. This means: the I simply is, absolutely and unconditionally. The hypothetical form of a judgment, which is the form of all judgments, when an absolute I is not presupposed, here is transformed into a principle of absolute existence: I simply am. Fichte also expresses this as follows: “The I originally and absolutely postulates its own being.”9Ibid. Vol. I, p. 98. This whole deduction of Fichte's is clearly nothing but a kind of pedagogical discussion, the aim of which is to guide his reader to the point where knowledge of the unconditional activity of the I dawns in him. His aim is to bring the activity of the I emphatically home to the reader, for without this activity there is no I.
[ 4 ] Let us now survey Fichte's line of thought once more. On closer inspection one sees that there is a break in its sequence; a break, indeed, of a kind that casts doubt upon the correctness of his view of the original deed of the I. What is essentially absolute when the I postulates? The judgment is made: If a exists, then so does a. The a is postulated by the I. There can, therefore, be no doubt about the postulation as such. But even if the I is unconditioned insofar as its own activity is concerned, nevertheless the I cannot but postulate something. It cannot postulate the “activity, as such, by itself,” but only a definite activity. In short: the postulation must have a content. However, the I cannot derive this content from itself, for by itself it can do no more than eternally postulate its own postulation. Therefore there must be something which is produced by this postulation, by this absolute activity of the I. Unless the I sets to work on something given which it postulates, it can do “nothing” and hence cannot postulate either. Fichte's own principle actually shows this: The I postulates its existence. This existence is a category. This means we have arrived at our principle: The activity of the I is to postulate, as a free decision, the concepts and ideas of the given. Fichte arrives at his conclusion only because he unconsciously sets out to prove that the I “exists.” Had he worked out the concept of cognition, he would then have arrived at the true starting point of a theory of knowledge, namely: The I postulates cognition. Because Fichte is not clear as to what it is that determines the activity of the I, he simply characterizes this activity as the postulation of being, of existence. In doing so, he also limits the absolute activity of the I. If the I is only unconditioned in its “postulation of existence.” everything else the I does must be conditioned. But then, all possible ways to pass from what is unconditioned to the conditioned are blocked. If the I is unconditioned only in the one direction described, it immediately ceases to be possible for the I to postulate, through an absolute act, anything but its own being. This makes it necessary to indicate the basis on which all the other activities of the I depend. Fichte sought for this in vain, as we have already seen.
[ 5 ] This is why he turned to the other of the two possibilities indicated for deducing the I. As early as 1797, in his First Introduction to the Science of Knowledge, he recommends self-observation as the right method for attaining knowledge of the essential being of the I:
“Be aware of yourself, withdraw your attention from all that surrounds you and turn it toward your inner being—this is the first demand that philosophy makes on the pupil. What is essential is not outside of you, but solely within yourself.10Ibid. Vol. I, p. 422.
To introduce the science of knowledge in this way is indeed a great advance on his earlier introduction. In self-observation, the activity of the I is actually seen, not one-sidedly turned in a particular direction, not as merely postulating existence, but revealing many aspects of itself as it strives to grasp the directly given world-content in thinking. Self-observation reveals the I engaged in the activity of building up the world-picture by combining the given with concepts. However, someone who has not elaborated the above considerations for himself—and who therefore does not know that the I only arrives at the full content of reality when it approaches the given with its thought-forms—for him, the process of knowledge appears to consist in spinning the world out of the I itself. This is why Fichte sees the world-picture more and more as a construction of the I. He emphasizes ever more strongly that for the science of knowledge it is essential to awaken the faculty for watching the I while it constructs the world. He who is able to do this appears to Fichte to be at a higher stage of knowledge than someone who is able to see only the construction, the finished product. He who considers only the world of objects does not recognize that they have first been created by the I. He who observes the I while it constructs, sees the foundation of the finished world-picture; he knows the means by which it has come into being, and it appears to him as the result of presuppositions which for him are given. Ordinary consciousness sees only what is postulated, what is in some way or other determined; it does not provide insight into the premises, into the reasons why something is postulated in just the way it is, and not otherwise. For Fichte it is the task of a completely new sense organ to mediate knowledge of these premises. This he expresses most clearly in his Introductory Lecture to the Science of Knowledge, delivered at Berlin University in the autumn of 1813:
“This science presupposes a completely new inner sense organ, through which a new world is revealed which does not exist for the ordinary man at all.” “The world revealed by this new sense, and therefore also the sense itself, is so far clearly defined: it consists in seeing the premises on which is based the judgment that ‘something is’; that is, seeing the foundation of existence which, just because it is the foundation, is in itself nothing else and cannot be defined.”11J. G. Fichtes nachgelassene Werke, J. G. Fichte's Posthumous Works, Edited by J. H. Fichte, Vol. I, Bonn, 1834, p. 4 and 16. (Einleitungsvorlesungen in die Wissenschaftslehre, Introductory Studies in the Scientific Teachings.)
[ 6 ] Here too, Fichte lacks clear insight into the content of the activity carried out by the I. And he never attained this insight. That is why his science of knowledge could never become what he intended it to be: a philosophical foundation for science in general in the form of a theory of knowledge. Had he once recognized that the activity of the I can only be postulated by the I itself, this insight would also have led him to see that the activity must likewise be determined by the I itself. This, however, can occur only by a content being given to the otherwise purely formal activity of the I. As this content must be introduced by the I itself into its otherwise quite undetermined activity, the activity as such must also be determined by the I itself in accordance with the I's own nature. Otherwise its activity could not be postulated by the I, but at most by a “thing-in-itself” within the I, whose instrument the I would be. Had Fichte attempted to discover how the I determines its own activity, he would have arrived at the concept of knowledge which is to be produced by the I. Fichte's science of knowledge proves that even the acutest thinker cannot successfully contribute to any field of knowledge if he is unable to come to the right thought-form (category, idea) which, when supplemented by the given, constitutes reality. Such a thinker is like a person to whom wonderful melodies are played, but he does not hear them because he lacks an ear for music. Consciousness, as given, can be described only by someone who knows how to take possession of the “idea of consciousness.”
[ 7 ] Fichte once came very near the truth. In his Introduction to the Science of Knowledge (1797), he says that there are two theoretical systems: dogmatism—in which the I is determined by the objects; and idealism—in which the objects are determined by the I. In his opinion both are possible world-views. Both are capable of being built up into a consistent system. But the adherents of dogmatism must renounce the independence of the I and make it dependent on the “thing-in-itself.” For the adherents of idealism, the opposite is the case. Which of the two systems a philosopher is to choose, Fichte leaves completely to the preference of the individual. But if one wishes the I to retain its independence, then one will cease to believe in external things and devote oneself to idealism.
[ 8 ] This line of thought fails to consider one thing, namely that the I cannot reach any choice or decision which has some real foundation if it does not presuppose something which enables it to do so. Everything determined by the I remains empty and without content if the I does not find something that is full of content and determined through and through, which then makes it possible for the I to determine the given and, in doing so, also enables it to choose between idealism and dogmatism. This something which is permeated with content through and through is, however, the world of thinking. And to determine the given by means of thinking is to cognize. No matter from what aspect Fichte is considered, we shall find that his line of thought gains power and life when we think of the activity of the I, which he presents as grey and empty of content, as filled and organized by what we have called the process of cognition.
[ 19 ] The I is freely able to become active of itself, and therefore it can also produce the category of cognition through self-determination; in the rest of the world, by objective necessity the categories are connected with the given corresponding to them. It must be the task of ethics and metaphysics to investigate the nature of this free self-determination, on the basis of our theory of knowledge. These sciences will also have to discuss whether the I is able to objectify ideas other than those of cognition. The present discussion shows that the I is free when it cognizes, when it objectifies the ideas of cognition. For when the directly given and the thought-form belonging to it are united by the I in the process of cognition, then the union of these two elements of reality—which otherwise would forever remain separated in consciousness—can only take place through a free act.
[ 10 ] Our discussion sheds a completely new light on critical idealism. Anyone who has acquainted himself intimately with Fichte's system will know that it was a point of vital importance for this philosopher to uphold the principle that nothing from the external world can enter the I, that nothing takes place in the I which is not originally postulated by the I itself. Yet it is beyond all doubt that no idealism can derive from the I that form of the world-content which is here described as the directly given. This form of the world-content can only be given; it can never be constructed out of thinking. One need only consider that if all the colors were given us with the exception of one single shade, even then we could not begin to provide that shade out of the I alone. We can form a picture of distant regions that we have never seen, provided we have once personally experienced, as given, the various elements needed to form the picture. Then, out of the single facts given us, we combine the picture according to given information. We should strive in vain to invent for ourselves even a single perceptual element that has never appeared within our sphere of the given. It is, however, one thing merely to be aware of the given world: it is quite another to recognize its essential nature. This latter, though intimately connected with the world-content, does not become clear to us unless we ourselves build up reality out of the given and the activity of thinking. The essential What of the given is postulated for the I only through the I itself. Yet the I would have no occasion to postulate within itself the nature of something given if it did not first find itself confronted by a completely undetermined given. Therefore, what is postulated by the I as the nature and being of the world is not postulated without the I, but through it.
[ 11 ] The true shape is not the first in which reality comes before the I, but the shape the I gives it. That first shape, in fact, has no significance for the objective world; it is significant only as a basis for the process of cognition. Thus it is not that shape which the theory of knowledge gives to the world which is subjective; the subjective shape is that in which the I at first encounters it. If, like Volkelt and others, one wishes to call this given world “experience,” then one will have to say: The world-picture which, owing to the constitution of our consciousness, appears to us in a subjective form as experience, is completed through knowledge to become what it really is.
[ 12 ] Our theory of knowledge supplies the foundation for true idealism in the real sense of the word. It establishes the conviction that in thinking the essence of the world is mediated. Through thinking alone the relationship between the details of the world-content become manifest, be it the relation of the sun to the stone it warms, or the relation of the I to the external world. In thinking alone the element is given which determines all things in their relations to one another.
[ 13 ] An objection which Kantianism could still bring forward would be that the definition of the given described above holds good in the end only for the I. To this I must reply that according to the view of the world outlined here, the division between I and external world, like all other divisions, is valid only within the given and from this it follows that the term “for the I” has no significance when things have been understood by thinking, because thinking unites all opposites. The I ceases to be seen as something separated from the external world when the world is permeated by thinking; it therefore no longer makes sense to speak of definitions as being valid for the I only.
VI. Die voraussetzunglose Erkenntnistheorie und Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre
[ 1 ] Mit den bisherigen Ausführungen haben wir die Idee der Erkenntnis festgestellt. Unmittelbar gegeben ist diese Idee nun im menschlichen Bewußtsein, insofern es sich erkennend verhält. Dem «Ich» als Mittelpunkt 28Es braucht wohl kaum gesagt zu werden, daß wir mit der Bezeichnung «Mittelpunkt» hier nicht eine theoretische Ansicht über die Natur des Bewußtseins verknüpft wissen wollen, sondern daß wir sie nur als stilistische Abkürzung für die Gesamtphysiognomie des Bewußtseins gebrauchen. des Bewußtseins ist die äußere und innere Wahrnehmung und sein eigenes Dasein unmittelbar gegeben. Das Ich fühlt den Drang, in diesem Gegebenen mehr zu finden, als was unmittelbar gegeben ist. Es geht ihm gegenüber der gegebenen Welt die zweite, die des Denkens auf, und es verbindet die beiden dadurch, daß es aus freiem Entschluß das verwirklicht, was wir als Idee des Erkennens festgestellt haben. Hierin liegt nun ein Grundunterschied zwischen der Art, wie sich im Objekt des menschlichen Bewußtseins selbst Begriff und Unmittelbar-Gegebenes zur totalen Wirklichkeit verbunden zeigen, und jener, die dem übrigen Weltinhalte gegenüber Geltung hat. Bei jedem andern Teil des Weltbildes müssen wir uns vorstellen, daß die Verbindung das Ursprüngliche, von vornherein Notwendige ist, und daß nur am Beginne des Erkennens für die Erkenntnis eine künstliche Trennung eingetreten ist, die aber zuletzt durch das Erkennen, der ursprünglichen Wesenheit des Objektiven gemäß, wieder aufgehoben wird. Beim menschlichen Bewußtsein ist das anders. Hier ist die Verbindung nur vorhanden, wenn sie in wirklicher Tätigkeit vom Bewußtsein vollzogen wird. Bei jedem andern Objekte hat die Trennung für das Objekt keine Bedeutung, sondern nur für die Erkenntnis. Die Verbindung ist hier das erste, die Trennung das Abgeleitete. Das Erkennen vollzieht nur die Trennung, weil es sich auf seine Art nicht in den Besitz der Verbindung setzen kann, wenn es nicht vorher getrennt hat. Begriff und gegebene Wirklichkeit des Bewußtseins aber sind ursprünglich getrennt, die Verbindung ist das Abgeleitete, und deswegen ist das Erkennen so beschaffen, wie wir es geschildert haben. Weil im Bewußtsein notwendig Idee und Gegebenes getrennt auftreten, deswegen spaltet sich für dasselbe die gesamte Wirklichkeit in diese zwei Teile, und weil das Bewußtsein nur durch eigene Tätigkeit die Verbindung der beiden genannten Elemente bewirken kann, deshalb gelangt es nur durch Verwirklichung des Erkenntnisaktes zur vollen Wirklichkeit. Die übrigen Kategorien (Ideen) wären auch dann notwendig mit den entsprechenden Formen des Gegebenen verknüpft, wenn sie nicht in die Erkenntnis aufgenommen würden; die Idee des Erkennens kann mit dem ihr entsprechenden Gegebenen nur durch die Tätigkeit des Bewußtseins vereinigt werden. Ein wirkliches Bewußtsein existiert nur, wenn es sich selbst verwirklicht. Damit glauben wir genügend vorbereitet zu sein, um den Grundfehler von Fichtes «Wissenschaftslehre» bloßzulegen und zugleich den Schlüssel zu ihrem Verständnis zu liefern. Fichte ist derjenige Philosoph, welcher unter Kants Nachfolgern am lebhaftesten gefühlt hat, daß eine Grundlegung aller Wissenschaften nur in einer Theorie des Bewußtseins bestehen könne; aber er kam nie zur Erkenntnis, warum das so ist. Er empfand, daß dasjenige, was wir als zweiten Schritt der Erkenntnistheorie bezeichnen, und dem wir die Form eines Postulates geben, von dem «Ich» wirklich ausgeführt werden müsse. Wir ersehen dies z. B. aus seinen folgenden Worten: «Die Wissenschaftslehre entsteht also, insofern sie eine systematische Wissenschaft sein soll, geradeso wie alle möglichen Wissenschaften, insofern sie systematisch sein sollen, durch eine Bestimmung der Freiheit, welche letztere hier insbesondere bestimmt ist, die Handlungsart der Intelligenz überhaupt zum Bewußtsein zu erheben; ... Durch diese freie Handlung wird nun etwas, das schon an sich Form ist, die notwendige Handlung der Intelligenz, als Gehalt in eine neue Form des Wissens oder Bewußtseins aufgenommen...» 29Über den Begriff der Wissenschaftslehre oder der sogenannten Philosophie. Sämtliche Werke, Berlin 1845, Bd. I, S.71 f. Was ist hier unter Handlungsart der «Intelligenz» zu verstehen, wenn man das, was dunkel gefühlt ist, in klaren Begriffen ausspricht? Nichts anderes als die im Bewußtsein sich vollziehende Verwirklichung der Idee des Erkennens. Wäre Fichte sich dessen vollkommen klar bewußt gewesen, dann hätte er den obigen Satz einfach so formulieren müssen: Die Wissenschaftslehre hat das Erkennen, insofern es noch unbewußte Tätigkeit des «Ich ist, zum Bewußtsein zu erheben; sie hat zu zeigen, daß im «Ich» als notwendige Handlung die Objektivierung der Idee des Erkennens ausgeführt wird.
[ 2 ] Fichte will die Tätigkeit des «Ich» bestimmen. Er findet: «Dasjenige, dessen Sein (Wesen) bloß darin besteht, daß es sich selbst als seiend setzt, ist das Ich, als absolutes Subjekt».30Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre. Sämtl. Werke 1, S.97. Dieses Setzen des Ich ist für Fichte die erste unbedingte Tathandlung, die allem übrigen «Bewußtseyn zum Grunde liegt». 31Sämtliche Werke I, S.91. Das Ich kann also im Sinne Fichtes auch nur durch einen absoluten Entschluß alle seine Tätigkeit beginnen. Aber für Fichte ist es unmöglich, dieser seiner vom Ich absolut gesetzten Tätigkeit zu irgendeinem Inhalte ihres Tuns zu verhelfen. Denn er hat nichts, worauf sich diese Tätigkeit richten, wonach sie sich bestimmen soll. Sein Ich soll eine Tathandlung vollziehen; aber was soll es tun? Weil Fichte den Begriff der Erkenntnis nicht aufstellte, den das Ich verwirklichen soll, deshalb rang er vergeblich, irgendeinen Fortgang von seiner absoluten Tathandlung zu den weiteren Bestimmungen des Ich zu finden. Ja, er erklärt zuletzt in bezug auf einen solchen Fortgang, daß die Untersuchung hierüber außerhalb der Grenzen der Theorie liege. Er geht in seiner Deduktion der Vorstellung weder von einer absoluten Tätigkeit des Ich noch des Nicht-Ich, sondern von einem Bestimmten aus, das zugleich Bestimmen ist, weil im Bewußtsein unmittelbar nichts anderes enthalten ist noch enthalten sein kann. Was diese Bestimmung wieder bestimmt, bleibt in der Theorie vollständig unentschieden; und durch diese Unbestimmtheit werden wir denn auch über die Theorie hinaus in den praktischen Teil der Wissenschaftslehre getrieben. 32Sämtliche Werke I, S. 178. Durch diese Erklärung vernichtet aber Fichte überhaupt alles Erkennen. Denn die praktische Tätigkeit des Ich gehört in ein ganz anderes Gebiet. Daß das von uns oben aufgestellte Postulat nur durch eine freie Handlung des Ich realisiert werden kann, ist ja klar; aber wenn das Ich sich erkennend verhalten soll, so kommt es gerade darauf an, daß die Entschließung desselben dahin geht, die Idee des Erkennens zu verwirklichen. Es ist ja gewiß richtig, daß das Ich aus freiem Entschluß noch vieles andere vollführen kann. Aber nicht auf eine Charakteristik des «freien», sondern auf eine solche des «erkennenden» Ich kommt es bei der erkenntnis-theoretischen Grundlegung aller Wissenschaften an. Fichte hat sich aber von seinem subjektiven Hange, die Freiheit der menschlichen Persönlichkeit in das hellste Licht zu stellen, allzusehr beeinflussen lassen. Mit Recht bemerkt Harms in seiner Rede über die Philosophie Fichtes (S.15): «Seine Weltansicht ist eine vorherrschend und ausschließlich ethische, und seine Erkenntnistheorie trägt keinen anderen Charakter.» Das Erkennen hätte absolut keine Aufgabe, wenn alle Gebiete der Wirklichkeit in ihrer Totalität gegeben wären. Da nun aber das Ich, solange es nicht vom Denken in das systematische Ganze des Weltbildes eingefügt ist, auch nichts anderes ist als ein unmittelbar Gegebenes, so genügt ein bloßes Aufzeigen seines Tuns durchaus nicht. Fichte jedoch ist der Ansicht, daß beim Ich mit dem bloßen Aufsuchen schon alles getan sei. «Wir haben den absolut-ersten, schlechthin unbedingten Grundsatz alles menschlichen Wissens aufzusuchen. Beweisen oder bestimmen läßt er sich nicht, wenn er absolut-erster Grundsatz sein soll.» 33Sämtliche Werke I, S.91. Wir haben gesehen, daß das Beweisen und Bestimmen einzig und allein dem Inhalte der reinen Logik gegenüber nicht am Platze ist. Das Ich gehört aber der Wirklichkeit an, und da ist es notwendig, das Vorhandensein dieser oder jener Kategorie im Gegebenen festzustellen. Fichte tat das nicht. Und hierinnen ist der Grund zu suchen, warum er seiner Wissenschaftslehre eine so verfehlte Gestalt gab. Zeller bemerkt,34Geschichte der deutschen Philosophie seit Leibniz, München 1871 bis 1875, S.605. daß die logischen Formeln, durch die Fichte zu dem Ich-Begriff kommen will, nur schlecht den Umstand verhüllen, daß dieser eigentlich um jeden Preis den schon vorgefaßten Zweck erreichen wolle, zu diesem Anfangspunkte zu kommen. Diese Worte beziehen sich auf die erste Gestalt, die Fichte 1794 seiner Wissenschaftslehre gab. Wenn wir daran festhalten, daß Fichte in der Tat, der ganzen Anlage seines Philosophierens nach, nichts wollen konnte, als die Wissenschaft durch einen absoluten Machtspruch beginnen zu lassen, so gibt es ja nur zwei Wege, die dieses Beginnen verständlich erscheinen lassen. Der eine war der, das Bewußtsein bei irgendeiner seiner empirischen Tätigkeiten anzufassen und durch allmähliche Losschälung alles dessen, was nicht ursprünglich aus demselben folgt, den reinen Begriff des Ich herauszukristallisieren. Der andere Weg aber war, gleich bei der ursprünglichen Tätigkeit des «Ich» einzusetzen und dessen Natur durch Selbstbesinnung und Selbstbeobachtung aufzuzeigen. Den ersten Weg schlug Fichte am Beginne seines Philosophierens ein; im Verlaufe desselben ging er jedoch allmählich zum zweiten über.
[ 3 ] An die Synthesis der «transzendentalen Apperzeption» bei Kant anknüpfend, fand Fichte, daß alle Tätigkeit des Ich in der Zusammenfügung des Stoffes der Erfahrung nach den Formen des Urteils bestehe. Das Urteilen besteht in dem Verknüpfen des Prädikats mit dem Subjekte, was in rein formaler Weise durch den Satz ausgedrückt wird: \(a = a\). Dieser Satz wäre unmöglich, wenn das x, das beide a verbindet, nicht auf einem Vermögen schlechthin zu setzen beruhte. Denn der Satz bedeutet ja nicht: a ist, sondern: wenn a ist, so ist a. Also von einem absoluten Setzen des a kann nicht die Rede sein. So bleibt denn nichts, um überhaupt zu einem absoluten, schlechthin Gültigen zu kommen, als das Setzen selbst für absolut zu erklären. Während das a bedingt ist, ist das Setzen des a unbedingt. Dieses Setzen ist aber eine Tathandlung des Ich. Dem Ich kommt somit eine Fähigkeit zu, schlechthin und unbedingt zu setzen. In dem Satze a = a wird das eine a nur gesetzt, indem das andere vorausgesetzt wird; und zwar wird es durch das Ich gesetzt. «Wenn a im Ich gesetzt ist, so ist es gesetzt.» 35Sämtliche Werke I,S.94. Dieser Zusammenhang ist nur unter der Bedingung möglich, daß im Ich etwas sich immer Gleichbleibendes sei, etwas, was von einem a zum andern hinüberfahrt. Und das oben erwähnte x beruht auf diesem Gleichbleibenden. Das Ich, welches das eine a setzt, ist dasselbe wie jenes, welches das andere setzt. Das heißt aber Ich Ich. Dieser Satz in Form des Urteils ausgedrückt: Wenn Ich ist, so ist es - hat keinen Sinn. Das Ich wird ja nicht unter der Voraussetzung eines andern gesetzt, sondern es setzt sich selbst voraus. Das heißt aber: es ist schlechthin und unbedingt. Die hypothetische Form des Urteils, die ohne die Voraussetzung des absoluten Ich allem Urteilen zukommt, verwandelt sich hier in die Form des absoluten Existenzialsatzes: Ich bin schlechtweg. Fichte drückt dies auch noch folgendermaßen aus: «Das Ich setzt ursprünglich schlechthin sein eigenes Sein.» 36Sämtliche Werke I , S.98. Wir sehen, daß diese ganze Ableitung Fichtes nichts ist als eine Art pädagogischer Auseinandersetzung, um seine Leser dahin zu führen, wo ihnen die Erkenntnis der unbedingten Tätigkeit des Ich aufgeht. Es soll denselben jene Handlung des Ich klar vor Augen gebracht werden, ohne deren Vollzug überhaupt gar kein Ich ist.
[ 4 ] Wir wollen nun auf Fichtes Gedankengang noch einmal zurückblicken. Bei schärferem Zusehen stellt sich nämlich heraus, daß in demselben ein Sprung ist, und zwar ein solcher, der die Richtigkeit der Anschauung von der ursprünglichen Tathandlung in Frage stellt. Was ist denn eigentlich wirklich absolut in dem Setzen des Ich? Es wird geurteilt: Wenn a ist, so ist a. Das a wird vom Ich gesetzt. Über dieses Setzen kann also kein Zweifel obwalten. Aber wenn auch als Tätigkeit unbedingt, so kann das Ich doch nur irgend etwas setzen. Es kann nicht die «Tätigkeit an und für sich», sondern nur eine bestimmte Tätigkeit setzen. Kurz: das Setzen muß einen Inhalt haben. Diesen kann es aber nicht aus sich selbst nehmen, denn sonst könnte es nichts weiter als ewig nur das Setzen setzen. Es muß also für das Setzen, für die absolute Tätigkeit des Ich etwas geben, das durch sie realisiert wird. Ohne daß das Ich zu einem Gegebenen greift, das es setzt, kann es überhaupt «nichts», folglich nicht setzen.» Das zeigt auch der Fichtesche Satz: Das Ich setzt sein Sein. Dieses Sein ist eine Kategorie. Wir sind wieder bei unserm Satze: Die Tätigkeit des Ich beruht darauf, daß das Ich aus eigenem freiem Entschlusse die Begriffe und Ideen des Gegebenen setzt. Nur dadurch, daß Fichte unbewußt darauf ausgeht, das Ich als «Seiendes» nachzuweisen, kommt er zu seinem Resultate. Hätte er den Begriff des Erkennens entwickelt, so wäre er zu dem wahren Ausgangspunkte der Erkenntnistheorie gekommen: Das Ich setzt das Erkennen. Da Fichte sich nicht klarmachte, wodurch die Tätigkeit des Ich bestimmt wird, bezeichnete er einfach das Setzen des Seins als Charakter dieser Tätigkeit. Damit hatte er aber auch die absolute Tätigkeit des Ich beschränkt. Denn ist nur das «Sein-Setzen» des Ich unbedingt, dann ist ja alles andere, was vom Ich ausgeht, bedingt. Aber es ist auch jeder Weg abgeschnitten, um vom Unbedingten zum Bedingten zu kommen. Wenn das Ich nur nach der bezeichneten Richtung hin unbedingt ist, dann hört sofort die Möglichkeit für dasselbe auf, etwas anderes als sein eigenes Sein durch einen ursprünglichen Akt zu setzen. Es tritt somit die Notwendigkeit ein, den Grund für alle andere Tätigkeit des Ich anzugeben. Fichte suchte nach einem solchen vergebens, wie wir oben bereits gesehen haben.
[ 5 ] Daher wandte er sich zu dem andern der oben bezeichneten Wege behufs Ableitung des Ich. Schon 1797 in der «Ersten Einleitung in die Wissenschaftslehre» empfiehlt er die Selbstbeobachtung als das Richtige, um das Ich in seinem ureigenen Charakter zu erkennen. «Merke auf dich selbst, kehre deinen Blick von allem, was dich umgibt, ab und in dein Inneres - ist die erste Forderung, welche die Philosophie an ihren Lehrling tut. Es ist von nichts, was außer dir ist, die Rede, sondern lediglich von dir selbst.» 37Sämtliche Werke 1, S.422. Diese Art, die Wissenschaftslehre einzuleiten, hat allerdings vor der andern einen großen Vorzug. Denn die Selbst-beobachtung liefert ja die Tätigkeit des Ich in der Tat nicht einseitig nach einer bestimmten Richtung hin, sie zeigt es nicht bloß Sein-setzend, sondern sie zeigt es in seiner allseitigen Entfaltung, wie es denkend den unmittelbar gegebenen Weltinhalt zu begreifen sucht. Der Selbstbeobachtung zeigt sich das Ich wie es sich das Weltbild aus dem Zusammenfügen von Gegebenem und Begriff aufbaut. Aber für denjenigen, der unsere obige Betrachtung nicht mit durchgemacht hat der also nicht weiß, daß das Ich nur dann zum ganzen Inhalte der Wirklichkeit kommt, wenn es mit seinen Denkformen an das Gegebene herantritt -, für den erscheint der Erkenntnisprozeß als ein Herausspinnen der Welt aus dem Ich. Für Fichte wird das Weltbild daher immer mehr zu einer Konstruktion des Ich. Er betont immer stärker, daß es in der Wissenschaftslehre darauf ankomme, den Sinn zu erwecken, der imstande ist, das Ich bei diesem Konstruieren der Welt zu belauschen. Wer dies vermag, erscheint ihm auf einer höheren Wissensstufe als derjenige, der nur das Konstruierte, das fertige Sein sieht. Wer nur die Welt der Objekte betrachtet, der erkennt nicht, daß sie vom Ich erst geschaffen werden. Wer aber das Ich in seinem Konstruieren betrachtet, der sieht den Grund des fertigen Weltbildes; er weiß, wodurch es geworden, es erscheint ihm als Folge, zu dem ihm die Voraussetzungen gegeben sind. Das gewöhnliche Bewußtsein sieht nur dasjenige, was gesetzt ist, was in dieser oder jener Weise bestimmt ist. Es fehlt ihm die Einsicht in die Vordersätze, in die Gründe: warum es gerade so gesetzt ist und nicht anders. Das Wissen um diese Vordersätze zu vermitteln, ist nach Fichte die Aufgabe eines ganz neuen Sinnes. Am deutlichsten ausgesprochen finde ich dies in den «Einleitungsvorlesungen in die Wissenschaftslehre. Vorgelesen im Herbste 1813 auf der Universität zu Berlin»: «Diese Lehre setzt voraus ein ganz neues inneres Sinneswerkzeug, durch welches eine neue Welt gegeben wird, die für den gewöhnlichen Menschen gar nicht vorhanden ist.» Oder: «Die Welt des neuen Sinnes und dadurch er selbst ist vorläufig klar bestimmt: sie ist das Sehen der Vordersätze, auf die das Urteil: es ist etwas, sich gründet; der Grund des Seins, der eben darum, weil er dies ist, nicht selbst wieder ist und ein Sein ist.» 38J. G. Fichtes nachgelassene Werke. Herausgegeben von J. H. Fichte, Bd. 1, Bonn 1834, S.4 und S.16.
[ 6 ] Die klare Einsicht in den Inhalt der vom Ich ausgeführten Tätigkeit fehlt aber Fichte auch hier. Er ist nie zu derselben durchgedrungen. Deshalb konnte seine Wissenschaftslehre das nicht werden, was sie sonst, ihrer ganzen Anlage nach, hätte werden müssen: eine Erkenntnistheorie als philosophische Grundwissenschaft. War nämlich einmal erkannt, daß die Tätigkeit des Ich von diesem selbst gesetzt werden muß, so lag nahe, daran zu denken, daß sie auch vom Ich ihre Bestimmung erhält. Wie kann das aber anders geschehen, als indem man dem rein formellen Tun des Ich einen Inhalt gibt. Soll dieser aber wirklich durch das Ich in dessen sonst ganz unbestimmte Tätigkeit hineingelegt werden, so muß derselbe auch seiner Natur nach bestimmt werden. Sonst könnte er doch höchstens durch ein im Ich liegendes «Ding an sich», dessen Werkzeug das Ich ist, nicht aber durch letzteres selbst realisiert werden. Hätte Fichte diese Bestimmung versucht, dann wäre er aber zum Begriffe der Erkenntnis gekommen, der von dem Ich verwirklicht werden soll. Fichtes Wissenschaftslehre ist ein Beleg dafür, daß es selbst dem scharfsinnigsten Denken nicht gelingt, auf irgendeinem Felde fruchtbringend einzuwirken, wenn man nicht zu der richtigen Gedankenform (Kategorie, Idee) kommt, die, mit dem Gegebenen ergänzt, die Wirklichkeit gibt. Es geht einem solchen Betrachter so, wie jenem Menschen, dem die herrlichsten Melodien geboten werden, und der sie gar nicht hört, weil er keine Empfindung für Melodie hat. Das Bewußtsein, als Gegebenes, kann nur der charakterisieren, der sich in den Besitz der «Idee des Bewußtseins» zu setzen weiß.
[ 7 ] Fichte ist einmal sogar der richtigen Einsicht ganz nahe. Er findet 1797 in den «Einleitungen zur Wissenschaftslehre», es gäbe zwei theoretische Systeme, den Dogmatismus, der das Ich von den Dingen, und den Idealismus, der die Dinge vom Ich bestimmt sein läßt. Beide stehen, nach seiner Ansicht, als mögliche Weltanschauungen fest. Der eine wie der andere gestatte eine konsequente Durchführung. Aber wenn wir uns dem Dogmatismus ergeben, dann müssen wir eine Selbständigkeit des Ich aufgeben und dasselbe vom Ding an sich abhängig machen. Im umgekehrten Falle sind wir, wenn wir dem Idealismus huldigen. Welches der Systeme der eine oder der andere Philosoph wählen will, das stellt Fichte lediglich dem Belieben des Ich anheim. Wenn dasselbe aber seine Selbständigkeit wahren wolle, so hebe es den Glauben an die Dinge außer uns auf und ergebe sich dem Idealismus.
[ 8 ] Nun hätte es nur noch der Überlegung bedurft, daß das Ich ja zu gar keiner wirklichen, gegründeten Entscheidung und Bestimmung kommen kann, wenn es nicht etwas voraussetzt, welches ihm zu einer solchen verhilft. Alle Bestimmung vom Ich aus bliebe leer und inhaltlos, wenn das Ich nicht etwas Inhaltsvolles, durch und durch Bestimmtes findet, was ihm die Bestimmung des Gegebenen möglich macht und damit auch zwischen Idealismus und Dogmatismus die Wahl treffen läßt. Dieses durch und durch Inhaltsvolle ist aber die Welt des Denkens. Und das Gegebene durch das Denken bestimmen heißt Erkennen. Wir mögen Fichte anfassen, wo wir wollen: überall finden wir, daß sein Gedankengang sofort Hand und Fuß gewinnt, wenn wir die bei ihm ganz graue, leere Tätigkeit des Ich erfüllt und geregelt denken von dem, was wir Erkenntnisprozeß genannt haben.
[ 9 ] Der Umstand, daß das Ich durch Freiheit sich in Tätigkeit versetzen kann, macht es ihm möglich, aus sich heraus durch Selbstbestimmung die Kategorie des Erkennens zu realisieren, während in der übrigen Welt die Kategorien sich durch objektive Notwendigkeit mit dem ihnen korrespondierenden Gegebenen verknüpft erweisen. Das Wesen der freien Selbstbestimmung zu untersuchen, wird die Aufgabe einer auf unsere Erkenntnistheorie gestützten Ethik und Metaphysik sein. Diese werden auch die Frage zu erörtern haben, ob das Ich auch noch andere Ideen außer der Erkenntnis zu realisieren vermag. Daß die Realisierung des Erkennens durch Freiheit geschieht, geht aber aus den oben gemachten Anmerkungen bereits klar hervor. Denn wenn das unmittelbar Gegebene und die dazugehörige Form des Denkens durch das Ich im Erkenntnisprozeß vereinigt werden, so kann die Vereinigung der sonst immer getrennt im Bewußtsein verbleibenden zwei Elemente der Wirklichkeit nur durch einen Akt der Freiheit geschehen.
[ 10 ] Durch unsere Ausführungen wird aber noch in ganz anderer Weise Licht auf den kritischen Idealismus geworfen. Demjenigen, der sich eingehend mit Fichtes System befaßt hat, erscheint es wie eine Herzensangelegenheit dieses Philosophen, den Satz aufrechtzuerhalten, daß in das Ich nichts von außen hineinkommen kann, daß nichts in demselben auftritt, was nicht ursprünglich von demselben selbst gesetzt wird. Nun ist aber außer Frage, daß kein Idealismus je imstande sein wird, jene Form des Weltinhaltes aus dem Ich abzuleiten, die wir als die unmittelbar gegebene bezeichnet haben. Diese Form kann eben nur gegeben, niemals aus dem Denken heraus konstruiert werden. Man erwäge doch nur, daß wir es nicht zustande brächten, selbst wenn uns die ganze übrige Farbenskala gegeben wäre, auch nur eine Farbennuance bloß vom Ich aus zu ergänzen. Wir können uns ein Bild der entferntesten, von uns nie gesehenen Ländergebiete machen, wenn wir die Elemente dazu als gegebene einmal individuell erlebt haben. Wir kombinieren uns dann das Bild nach gegebener Anleitung aus von uns erlebten Einzeltatsachen. Vergebens aber werden wir danach streben, auch nur ein einziges Wahrnehmungselement, das nie im Bereich des uns Gegebenen lag, aus uns herauszuspinnen. Ein anderes aber ist das bloße Kennen der gegebenen Welt; ein anderes das Erkennen von deren Wesenheit. Letztere wird uns, trotzdem sie innig mit dem Weltinhalte verknüpft ist, nicht klar, ohne daß wir die Wirklichkeit aus Gegebenem und Denken selbst erbauen. Das eigentliche «Was» des Gegebenen wird für das Ich nur durch das letztere selbst gesetzt. Das Ich hätte aber gar keine Veranlassung, das Wesen eines Gegebenen in sich zu setzen, wenn es nicht die Sache zuerst in ganz bestimmungsloser Weise sich gegenüber sähe. Was also als Wesen der Welt vom Ich gesetzt wird, das wird nicht ohne das Ich, sondern durch dasselbe gesetzt.
[ 11 ] Nicht die erste Gestalt, in der die Wirklichkeit an das Ich herantritt, ist deren wahre, sondern die letzte, die das Ich aus derselben macht. Jene erste Gestalt ist überhaupt ohne Bedeutung für die objektive Welt und hat eine solche nur als Unterlage für den Erkenntnisprozeß. Also nicht die Gestalt der Welt, welche die Theorie derselben gibt, ist die subjektive, sondern vielmehr jene, welche dem Ich zuerst gegeben ist. Will man nach dem Vorgange Volkelts u. a. diese gegebene Welt die Erfahrung nennen, so muß man sagen: die Wissenschaft ergänzt das infolge der Einrichtung unseres Bewußtseins in subjektiver Form, als Erfahrung, auftretende Weltbild zu dem, was es wesentlich ist.
[ 12 ] Unsere Erkenntnistheorie liefert die Grundlage für einen im wahren Sinne des Wortes sich selbst verstehenden Idealismus. Sie begründet die Überzeugung, daß im Denken die Essenz der Welt vermittelt wird. Durch nichts anderes als durch das Denken kann das Verhältnis der Teile des Weltinhaltes aufgezeigt werden, ob es nun das Verhältnis der Sonnenwärme zum erwärmten Stein oder des Ich zur Außenwelt ist. Im Denken allein ist das Element gegeben, welches alle Dinge in ihren Verhältnissen zueinander bestimmt.
[ 13 ] Der Einwand, den der Kantianismus noch machen könnte, wäre der, daß die oben charakterisierte Wesensbestimmung des Gegebenen doch nur eine solche für das Ich sei. Demgegenüber müssen wir im Sinne unserer Grundauffassung erwidern, daß ja auch die Spaltung des Ich und der Außenwelt nur innerhalb des Gegebenen Bestand hat, daß also jenes «für das Ich» der denkenden Betrachtung gegenüber, die alle Gegensätze vereinigt, keine Bedeutung hat. Das Ich als ein von der Außenwelt Abgetrenntes geht in der denkenden Weltbetrachtung völlig unter; es hat also gar keinen Sinn mehr, von Bestimmungen bloß für das Ich zu sprechen.
VI The presuppositionless theory of knowledge and Fichte's Wissenschaftslehre
[ 1 ] We have established the idea of cognition in our previous remarks. This idea is now directly given in human consciousness, insofar as it behaves in a cognitive way. The "I" as the center 28need hardly be said of consciousness is directly given external and internal perception and its own existence. The ego feels the urge to find more in this given than what is immediately given. The second world, that of thinking, opens up to it in relation to the given world, and it connects the two by freely realizing what we have established as the idea of cognition. Herein lies a fundamental difference between the way in which in the object of human consciousness itself the concept and the directly given are united to form total reality, and the way in which they are valid in relation to the other contents of the world. With every other part of the world-picture we must imagine that the connection is the original, necessary thing from the outset, and that only at the beginning of cognition has an artificial separation occurred for cognition, which, however, is finally abolished again by cognition, in accordance with the original nature of the objective. It is different with human consciousness. Here the connection only exists when it is carried out in real activity by consciousness. With every other object, the separation has no meaning for the object, but only for cognition. Here the connection is the first, the separation the derivative. Cognition only carries out the separation, because in its own way it cannot put itself in possession of the connection if it has not previously separated. But the concept and the given reality of consciousness are originally separate, the connection is the derivative, and that is why cognition is constituted as we have described it. Because the idea and the given necessarily appear separately in consciousness, therefore the whole of reality is divided into these two parts for it, and because consciousness can only bring about the connection of the two elements mentioned through its own activity, therefore it only arrives at full reality through the realization of the act of cognition. The other categories (ideas) would also necessarily be connected with the corresponding forms of the given if they were not included in cognition; the idea of cognition can only be united with the given corresponding to it through the activity of consciousness. A real consciousness only exists when it realizes itself. With this we believe we are sufficiently prepared to expose the fundamental error of Fichte's "Wissenschaftslehre" and at the same time to provide the key to its understanding. Fichte is the philosopher who, among Kant's successors, felt most keenly that a foundation for all the sciences could only consist in a theory of consciousness; but he never came to realize why this was so. He felt that what we call the second step of the theory of knowledge, and to which we give the form of a postulate, must really be carried out by the "I". We see this, for example, from his following words: "The science of science, in so far as it is to be a systematic science, arises, therefore, just as all possible sciences, in so far as they are to be systematic, from a determination of freedom, which latter is here especially determined to raise to consciousness the mode of action of intelligence in general; ... Through this free action, something that is already form in itself, the necessary action of intelligence, is now taken up as content into a new form of knowledge or consciousness..." 29On the Concept of the Doctrine of Science or so-called Philosophy. Sämtliche Werke, Berlin 1845, Vol. I, p.71 f. What is to be understood here by the mode of action of "intelligence", if what is darkly felt is expressed in clear terms? Nothing other than the realization of the idea of cognition that takes place in consciousness. If Fichte had been fully aware of this, he would simply have had to formulate the above sentence as follows: The doctrine of science has to elevate cognition, insofar as it is still the unconscious activity of the "I", to consciousness; it has to show that in the "I" the objectification of the idea of cognition is carried out as a necessary action.
[ 2 ] Fichte wants to determine the activity of the "I". He finds: "That whose being (essence) consists merely in the fact that it sets itself as being, is the I, as absolute subject".30Foundation of the entire Wissenschaftslehre. Sämtl. Werke 1, p.97. For Fichte, this positing of the I is the first unconditioned act that "underlies all other consciousness". 31Sämtliche Werke I, p.91. Thus, in Fichte's sense, the ego can only begin all its activity through an absolute decision. But for Fichte it is impossible to help this activity, which is absolutely set by the ego, to any content of its action. For he has nothing towards which this activity should be directed, towards which it should determine itself. His ego is supposed to perform an action; but what is it supposed to do? Because Fichte did not establish the concept of cognition that the ego is to realize, he struggled in vain to find any progression from his absolute action to the further determinations of the ego. Indeed, he finally declares, with regard to such a progression, that the investigation of this lies outside the limits of theory. In his deduction of the imagination he proceeds neither from an absolute activity of the ego nor of the non-ego, but from a determination that is at the same time a determination, because nothing else is or can be directly contained in consciousness. What determines this determination again remains completely undecided in the theory; and it is through this indeterminacy that we are driven beyond the theory into the practical part of the doctrine of science. 32Sämtliche Werke I, p. 178. Through this explanation, however, Fichte destroys all cognition in general. For the practical activity of the ego belongs to an entirely different realm. It is clear that the postulate we have laid down above can only be realized through a free action of the ego; but if the ego is to behave cognitively, it is precisely a matter of its resolution to realize the idea of cognition. It is certainly true that the ego can accomplish many other things of its own free will. But it is not a characterization of the "free", but of the "cognizing" I that is important in the epistemological-theoretical foundation of all sciences. Fichte, however, allowed himself to be overly influenced by his subjective inclination to place the freedom of the human personality in the brightest light. Harms rightly remarks in his speech on Fichte's philosophy (p.15): "His view of the world is a predominantly and exclusively ethical one, and his theory of knowledge bears no other character." Cognition would have absolutely no task if all areas of reality were given in their totality. But since the ego, as long as it is not inserted by thinking into the systematic whole of the world view, is nothing other than an immediate given, a mere demonstration of its action is not at all sufficient. Fichte, however, is of the opinion that with the ego everything is already done with the mere searching. "We have to seek out the absolute-first, absolutely unconditional principle of all human knowledge. It cannot be proven or determined if it is to be the absolute first principle." 33Sämtliche Werke I, p.91. We have seen that proof and determination are out of place solely in relation to the content of pure logic. But the ego belongs to reality, and there it is necessary to establish the existence of this or that category in the given. Fichte did not do this. And this is the reason why he gave his Wissenschaftslehre such a misguided form. Zeller remarks,34Geschichte der deutschen Philosophie seit Leibniz, München 1871 bis 1875, p.605. that the logical formulas through which Fichte wants to arrive at the concept of the I only poorly conceal the fact that he actually wanted to achieve the already preconceived purpose of arriving at this starting point at all costs. These words refer to the first form that Fichte gave to his Wissenschaftslehre in 1794. If we hold on to the fact that Fichte, according to the whole structure of his philosophizing, could indeed have wanted nothing more than to have science begin through an absolute power statement, then there are only two ways in which this beginning can be understood. One was to take hold of consciousness in any of its empirical activities and, by gradually peeling away everything that does not originally follow from it, to crystallize the pure concept of the ego. The other way, however, was to begin with the original activity of the "I" and to reveal its nature through self-reflection and self-observation. Fichte took the first path at the beginning of his philosophizing; in the course of it, however, he gradually moved on to the second.
[ 3 ] Following on from Kant's synthesis of "transcendental apperception", Fichte found that all activity of the ego consists in assembling the material of experience according to the forms of judgment. Judgment consists in linking the predicate with the subject, which is expressed in a purely formal way by the proposition \(a = a\). This sentence would be impossible if the x that links the two a's were not based on a capacity to set per se. For the proposition does not mean: a is, but: if a is, then a is. So there can be no question of an absolute positing of a. In order to arrive at an absolute, absolutely valid proposition, nothing remains but to declare the proposition itself to be absolute. While the a is conditional, the positing of the a is unconditional. But this positing is an act of the ego. The I thus has the ability to posit absolutely and unconditionally. In the proposition a = a, the one a is only posited by presupposing the other; namely, it is posited by the ego. "If a is posited in the I, then it is posited." 35Sämtliche Werke I,p.94. This connection is only possible on the condition that there is something in the ego that always remains the same, something that passes from one a to the other. And the x mentioned above is based on this constant. The I that posits the one a is the same as the one that posits the other. But that is called I I I. This sentence expressed in the form of the judgment: If I is, then it is - has no meaning. The I is not posited under the presupposition of another, but presupposes itself. This means, however, that it is absolute and unconditional. The hypothetical form of judgment, which is inherent in all judgment without the presupposition of the absolute I, is transformed here into the form of the absolute existential proposition: I am absolutely. Fichte also expresses this as follows: "The I originally posits its own being." 36Sämtliche Werke I , p.98. We see that this whole derivation by Fichte is nothing but a kind of pedagogical argument to lead his readers to the point where the realization of the unconditional activity of the I dawns on them. The action of the I is to be brought clearly before their eyes, without the accomplishment of which there is no I at all.
[ 4 ] We will now look back once again at Fichte's train of thought. A closer look reveals that there is a leap in it, one that calls into question the correctness of the view of the original act. What is really absolute in the positing of the ego? It is judged: If a is, then a is. a is posited by the ego. There can therefore be no doubt about this positing. But even if it is absolute as an activity, the I can only posit something. It cannot posit the "activity in and of itself", but only a certain activity. In short: the positing must have a content. But it cannot take this content from itself, for otherwise it could only ever posit positing. There must therefore be something for the positing, for the absolute activity of the I, which is realized through it. Without the I reaching for a given that it posits, it can posit "nothing" at all, consequently not." This is also shown by Fichte's sentence: The I posits its being. This being is a category. We are back to our proposition: The activity of the I is based on the fact that the I sets the concepts and ideas of the given out of its own free decision. Fichte arrives at his result only because he unconsciously sets out to prove the ego as "being". If he had developed the concept of cognition, he would have arrived at the true starting point of epistemology: The I posits cognition. Since Fichte did not clarify what determines the activity of the I, he simply described the positing of being as the character of this activity. In doing so, however, he also limited the absolute activity of the I. For if only the "positing of being" of the ego is unconditional, then everything else that proceeds from the ego is conditional. But every path is also cut off to get from the unconditioned to the conditioned. If the I is only unconditioned in the direction indicated, then the possibility for it to posit something other than its own being through an original act immediately ceases. Thus the necessity arises to give the reason for all other activity of the ego. Fichte searched in vain for such a ground, as we have already seen above.
[ 5 ] He therefore turned to the other of the above-mentioned ways of deriving the ego. As early as 1797, in the "First Introduction to the Theory of Science", he recommended introspection as the right way to recognize the ego in its very own character. "Pay attention to yourself, turn your gaze away from everything that surrounds you and into your inner self - this is the first demand that philosophy makes of its apprentice. It is not talking about anything outside yourself, but only about yourself." 37Sämtliche Werke 1, p.422. However, this way of introducing the doctrine of science has a great advantage over the other. For self-observation does not in fact present the activity of the ego in a one-sided way in a particular direction; it does not merely show it as a being-setter, but shows it in its all-round unfolding, as it seeks to comprehend the directly given content of the world through thinking. Self-observation shows the ego as it constructs its world view from the combination of the given and the concept. But for those who have not gone through our above consideration - for those who do not know that the ego only comes to the whole content of reality when it approaches the given with its forms of thought - the process of cognition appears as a spinning out of the world from the ego. For Fichte, the world view therefore becomes more and more a construction of the ego. He emphasizes ever more strongly that what matters in the doctrine of science is to awaken the sense that is capable of eavesdropping on the ego in this construction of the world. Those who are able to do this appear to him to be on a higher level of knowledge than those who only see the constructed, the finished being. Those who only see the world of objects do not recognize that they are first created by the ego. But he who looks at the ego in its construction sees the ground of the finished world picture; he knows how it came to be, it appears to him as a consequence for which the preconditions are given to him. Ordinary consciousness only sees what is set, what is determined in this or that way. It lacks insight into the presuppositions, into the reasons: why it is set just so and not otherwise. According to Fichte, imparting the knowledge of these presuppositions is the task of a completely new sense. I find this most clearly expressed in the "Introductory Lectures to the Theory of Science. Read aloud in the autumn of 1813 at the University of Berlin": "This doctrine presupposes a completely new inner sensory tool, through which a new world is given, which does not exist at all for the ordinary person." Or: "The world of the new sense and thus it itself is clearly determined for the time being: it is the seeing of the propositions on which the judgment: it is something, is based; the ground of being, which, precisely because it is this, is not itself again and is a being." 38J. G. Fichte's posthumous works. Edited by J. H. Fichte, vol. 1, Bonn 1834, p.4 and p.16.
[ 6 ] However, Fichte also lacks a clear insight into the content of the activity carried out by the ego. He never got through to it. For this reason, his Wissenschaftslehre could not become what it should otherwise have become according to its entire structure: a theory of knowledge as a basic philosophical science. For once it had been recognized that the activity of the ego must be set by the ego itself, it was obvious to think that it also receives its determination from the ego. But how can this be done other than by giving content to the purely formal activity of the ego? But if this content is really to be placed by the ego in its otherwise quite indeterminate activity, then it must also be determined by its nature. Otherwise it could at most be realized by a "thing in itself" lying in the ego, whose tool is the ego, but not by the ego itself. If Fichte had attempted this determination, however, he would have arrived at the concept of knowledge that is to be realized by the ego. Fichte's Wissenschaftslehre is proof that even the most perceptive thinking does not succeed in having a fruitful effect in any field if one does not arrive at the correct form of thought (category, idea) which, supplemented with the given, gives reality. Such an observer is like a person who is offered the most marvelous melodies and does not hear them at all because he has no feeling for melody. Consciousness, as a given, can only be characterized by those who know how to put themselves in possession of the "idea of consciousness".
[ 7 ] Fichte once even comes very close to the correct insight. In 1797, in the "Introduction to the Theory of Science", he states that there are two theoretical systems, dogmatism, which separates the ego from things, and idealism, which allows things to be determined by the ego. In his view, both are established as possible world views. Both the one and the other allow a consistent realization. But if we surrender to dogmatism, then we must give up the independence of the ego and make it dependent on the thing in itself. We are in the opposite situation if we pay homage to idealism. Which of the systems the one or the other philosopher wants to choose, Fichte leaves merely to the discretion of the ego. But if the ego wants to preserve its independence, it should abandon its belief in things outside us and surrender to idealism.
[ 8 ] Now it would only be necessary to consider that the ego cannot arrive at any real, well-founded decision and determination if it does not presuppose something that helps it to do so. All determination from the ego would remain empty and devoid of content if the ego did not find something substantial, thoroughly determined, which makes it possible for it to determine the given and thus to choose between idealism and dogmatism. But this thoroughly substantive is the world of thought. And determining the given through thinking means recognizing. We may touch Fichte wherever we like: everywhere we find that his train of thought immediately gains hand and foot when we think of the completely gray, empty activity of the ego as filled and regulated by what we have called the process of cognition.
[ 9 ] The fact that the ego can set itself into activity through freedom makes it possible for it to realize the category of cognition out of itself through self-determination, while in the rest of the world the categories prove to be linked through objective necessity with the given that corresponds to them. Investigating the nature of free self-determination will be the task of ethics and metaphysics based on our epistemology. These will also have to discuss the question of whether the ego is also capable of realizing other ideas besides cognition. That the realization of cognition occurs through freedom, however, is already clear from the above remarks. For if the directly given and the corresponding form of thought are united by the ego in the process of cognition, then the unification of the two elements of reality, which otherwise always remain separate in consciousness, can only occur through an act of freedom.
[ 10 ] However, our explanations shed light on critical idealism in a completely different way. To anyone who has studied Fichte's system in depth, it appears to be a matter close to the heart of this philosopher to uphold the proposition that nothing can enter the ego from outside, that nothing occurs in it that is not originally posited by it. But now it is beyond question that no idealism will ever be able to derive from the ego that form of world-content which we have called the directly given. This form can only be given, never constructed out of thinking. Just consider that even if the whole of the remaining color scale were given to us, we would not be able to complete even one shade of color merely from the ego. We can form a picture of the most distant regions of the world, which we have never seen, if we have once experienced the elements individually as given. We then combine the picture according to given instructions from individual facts we have experienced. But we will strive in vain to spin out of ourselves even a single perceptual element that was never within the realm of what was given to us. Another, however, is the mere knowledge of the given world; another is the recognition of its essence. The latter, although it is intimately connected with the content of the world, does not become clear to us without our constructing reality from the given and thinking itself. The actual "what" of the given is determined for the ego only by the latter itself. But the ego would have no reason at all to place the essence of a given in itself if it did not first see the thing in a completely undetermined way. What is therefore posited by the I as the essence of the world is not posited without the I, but through it.
[ 11 ] It is not the first form in which reality approaches the ego that is its true form, but the last form that the ego makes of it. That first form is of no significance at all for the objective world and has such a form only as a basis for the process of cognition. Thus it is not the form of the world that the theory of it gives that is the subjective, but rather that which is first given to the ego. If, according to Volkelt and others, we want to call this given world experience, then we must say: science supplements the world picture that appears in subjective form, as experience, as a result of the establishment of our consciousness, to what it essentially is.
[ 12 ] Our theory of knowledge provides the basis for an idealism that understands itself in the true sense of the word. It establishes the conviction that the essence of the world is conveyed in thinking. Through nothing other than thinking can the relationship of the parts of the content of the world be shown, whether it is the relationship of the heat of the sun to the heated stone or of the ego to the outside world. In thinking alone is the element given that determines all things in their relations to each other.
[ 13 ] The objection that Kantianism could still raise would be that the determination of the essence of the given characterized above is only such for the I. To this we must reply, in the sense of our basic conception, that the division of the ego and the external world only exists within the given, so that this "for the ego" has no meaning in relation to thinking contemplation, which unites all opposites. The ego as something separate from the external world is completely lost in the thinking view of the world; it therefore no longer makes any sense to speak of determinations only for the ego.