Human Values in Education
GA 310
24 July 1924, Arnheim
IX. Styles in Education, Historical Examples
It can be said with truth that what our schools are able to accomplish forms part of the whole culture and development of civilisation. It does so either in a more direct way, in which case it is easy to see how a civilisation comes to expression in its art of education, or it lies unnoticed within it. To be sure, civilisation is always an image of what is done in the schools, only very often this is not observed. We shall be able to characterise this by taking our own epoch as an example, but first we will begin with oriental culture.
We really have very little intimate knowledge about the older oriental culture and what still remains of it. Oriental culture has absolutely no intellectual element; it proceeds directly out of the whole human being, that is the human being in his Oriental form, and it seeks to unite man with man. Only with difficulty does it rise beyond the principle of authority. The forms it takes arise, more out of love, in the way of nature. In the whole nexus of the oriental world we cannot speak of a separated teacher and a separated pupil, as in our case. There you do not have the teacher and educator, but you have the Dada. The Dada shows the way: through his personality he represents what the growing human being should absorb. The Dada is the one who shows everything, who teaches absolutely nothing. In oriental culture to teach would have no sense. Herbart, a very famous European educationalist, whose views on educational questions were widely accepted in Central Europe, once expressed himself as follows: I cannot think of an education without teaching. With him everything centred on how one taught. The Oriental would have said: I cannot think of an education based on teaching, because in education, everything which should come to fruition in the pupil is contained in living demonstration and example. This holds good right up to the relationship between the Initiate, the Guru, and the Chela, the Disciple. The latter is not taught, he learns by example.
By entering more deeply into such things, what follows will be more easily understood. All Waldorf School education is directed towards the whole human being. Our purpose is not to separate spiritual and physical education, but when we educate the body—because we do this out of fundamental spiritual principles, which are nevertheless extremely practical—our education reaches even into illnesses with all their ramifications. Our aim is to let the spirit work actively in the body; so that in the Waldorf School physical education is not neglected, but is developed out of the knowledge that the human being is soul and spirit. In every way our education contains all that is required for the training of the body.
Further, one must learn to understand what was understood by the Greeks. Greek education was based on gymnastics. The teacher was a gymnast, that is to say, he knew the significance of human movement. In the earlier Greek epoch it would have been more or less incomprehensible to the Greek if one had spoken to him about the necessity of introducing children to logical thinking. For the Greek knew what was brought about when children were taught health-giving gymnastics—in a somewhat milder way in the case of the Athenians, in a harder, more arduous way in the case of the Spartans. For him it was perfectly clear: “If I know how to use my fingers when taking hold of something, so that I do it in a deft, and not in a clumsy way, the movement goes up into the whole organism and in the agile use of my limbs I learn to think clearly. I also learn to speak well when I carry out gymnastic movements rightly.” Everything belonging to the so-called training of spirit and soul in man, everything tending towards abstraction, is developed in a quite unnatural way if it is done by means of direct instruction. Schooling of this kind should grow out of the way in which one learns to move the body. This is why our civilisation has become so abstract. Today there are men who cannot sew on a torn-off trouser button. With us in the Waldorf School boys and girls sit together and the boys get thoroughly enthusiastic over knitting and crochet; and in doing this they learn how to manipulate their thoughts. It is not surprising that a man, however well trained in logical thinking is nevertheless unable to think clearly, if he does not know how to knit. In this connection we in our time may observe how much more mobile the thought world of women is. One has only to study what has followed the admittance of women to the university in order to see how much more mobile the soul-spiritual is in women than in men, who have become stiff and abstract through an activity which leads away from reality. This is to be observed in its worst form in the business world. When one observes how a business man conducts his affairs it is enough to drive one up the wall.
These are things which must once again be understood. I must know that however much I draw on the board, children will learn to distinguish the difference between acute and obtuse angles much better, they will learn to understand the world much better, if we let them practise holding a pencil between the big and next toe, making tolerable and well-formed angles and letters—in other words, when what is spiritual in man streams out of the whole body—than by any amount of intellectual, conceptual explanation. In Greek culture care was taken that a child should learn how to move, how to bear heat and cold, how to adapt himself to the physical world, because there was a feeling that the soul-spiritual develops rightly out of a rightly developed physical body. The Greek, educated as a gymnast, took hold of and mastered the whole man, and the outer faculties were allowed to develop out of this mastery. We today, with our abstract science, are aware of a very important truth, but we know it as an abstraction. When we have children who learn to write easily with the right hand we know today that in man this is connected with the centre of speech situated in the left half of the brain. We observe the connection between movements of the hand and speaking. If we go further we can in the same way learn through physiology to know the connection between movement and thinking. Today therefore we already know, albeit in a somewhat abstract way, how thinking and speaking arise out of man's faculty of movement; but the Greek knew this in a most comprehensive sense. So the gymnast said: Man will learn to think in a co-ordinated way if he learns to walk and jump well, if he learns to throw the discus skilfully. And when he learns to throw the discus beyond the mark he will also comprehend the underlying logic of the story of “Achilles and the Tortoise;” he will learn to grasp all the remarkable forms of logic, which the Greeks enumerated. In this way he will learn to stand firm in reality. Today we usually think somewhat as follows: Here we have a lawyer, there a client; the lawyer knows things which the client does not know. In Greece, however, because it was quite usual to throw the discus beyond the mark, the Greek understood the following: Assuming that a learned lawyer has a pupil whom he instructs in legal matters, and this pupil is so well taught that he must inevitably win every law-suit, what may ensue? In the event of a law-suit involving both pupil and teacher the position would be this: The pupil would inevitably win and inevitably lose! As you know, the case is then left hanging in the air! Thus thinking and speaking developed out of an education based on gymnastics: both were drawn out of the whole human being.
Now let us pass on to the Roman civilisation. There the whole man receded into the background, although something of him still remained in the pose of the Roman. Greek movement was still living, pristine and natural. A Roman in his toga looked very different from a Greek; he also moved differently, for with him movement had become pose. In the place of movement education was directed towards only a part of the human being; it was based on speech, on beautiful speaking. This was still a great deal, for in speech the whole upper part of the body is engaged right down into the diaphragm and the bowels. A very considerable part of man is engaged when he learns to speak beautifully. Every effort was made in education to approach the human being, to make something of the human being. This still remained when culture passed over into mediaeval times. In Greece the most important educator was the gymnast, who worked on the whole man; in the civilisation of Rome the most important educator was the rhetorician. In Greece all culture and world-perspective was based on the beautiful human being, conceived in his entirety. One cannot understand a Greek poem, or a Greek statue if one does not know that the Greek's whole world-perspective was centralised in the concept of man in movement. When one looks at a Greek statue and sees the movement of the mouth, one is led to ask: What is the relationship between this movement and the position of the foot, and so on? It is altogether different when we come to consider Roman Art and culture. There the rhetorician takes the place of the gymnast; there the entire cultural life is centred in oratory. The whole of education is directed towards the training of public speakers, the development of beautifully formed speech, the acquisition of eloquence, and this continues right on into the Middle Ages, when education still worked on man himself. You will see that this is so, if you ask yourselves the following: What was the substance of education in the Middle Ages, to what end and purpose were people educated? There were for instance the Seven Liberal Arts: Grammar, Rhetoric, Dialectic, Arithmetic, Geometry, Astronomy or Astrology, and Music. To take one example: Arithmetic was not practised as it is today, but was taught in order to develop the faculty of working with and entering into the nature of forms and numbers. The study of music enabled the pupil to gain a deeper experience of the whole of life. And astronomy: this helped him to develop the capacity for cosmic thinking. In all these studies the approach was made to man himself. The so-called exact sciences of today played a negligible part in education. That the pupil should understand something of science was held to be of little value. It was considered much more important that he should move and speak well and be able to think and calculate. That he should acquire some sort of ready-made truth was of lesser importance. Hence all culture, the perspective of civilisation developed along lines which produced men able to play a part in public life and affairs and willing to devote themselves to this. Pride was felt in men able to hold their own as public orators, men who were thoroughly representative human beings.
The stream of culture which carried this into later times, in some measure, indeed, right into the present, is the Jesuitical schooling, which, from its first establishment and on into the 18th century, had as its main purpose the training, one might almost say the drilling of human beings, so that they became characters possessing great will-power and as such could be placed into life. From the beginning this was the aim of Jesuitical culture. And it was only in the course of the 19th century, in order not to remain too much behind others, that the Jesuits introduced the exact sciences into their teaching. By these methods the Jesuits developed strong, energetic characters so that today, even if one is an opponent of Jesuitism, one finds oneself obliged to say: If only human beings could be trained to work with such consciousness of purpose for the good, as the Jesuits have trained them to work for the decadence of mankind!
This trend in the development of man first makes its appearance in the Roman civilisation, when out of the gymnast there emerges the rhetorician. We see therefore, in a civilisation which has as its foundation a rhetorical education, what tremendous value is laid on everything in life which can assume world significance in the sphere of rhetoric. Now try to look back on the whole life of the Middle Ages. Everything reveals the fact that life is regarded from the point of view of speech, of rhetorical speech, and this enters into such things as how one should behave, how one man should greet another and so on. All this is not taken for granted, but practised according to a conception of beauty, just as in rhetoric a manner of speaking which conforms to a conception of beauty gives aesthetic pleasure. Here you see arising everywhere the world-significance of a rhetorical education; while the world-significance of the Greek education lies in that which comes to expression in human movement.
And now with the 16th century we come to more modern times, although in point of fact some preparation for it may already be seen in the 15th century. Once again something that still represented much in the human being, in this case the rhetorical, is pushed into the background. Just as the rhetorical had pushed back gymnastic training, so now there is a further step, the rhetorical is pushed back and there is a still greater limitation, an ever increasing striving after intellectuality. Just as the Roman educator was the rhetorician, so is our educator the doctor, the professor. If the gymnast was still a complete human being, if the rhetorician, when he appeared in public, wished at least to be a representative human being, so our professor has ceased to be a human being at all. He denies the human being and lives more and more in sheer abstractions; all he is now is a skeleton of civilisation. Therefore, in more modern times at any rate, the professor adopts the fashion of dressing like a man of the world; he no longer cares to wear cap and gown in the lecture room, but dresses in such a way that it is not apparent immediately that he is merely a skeleton of civilisation. Ever since the 16th century our entire education has been focused on the professor. And those who educate in the sense of this view of what is of importance in the world no longer take with them into the schools any understanding of human development and human training, but they impart knowledge to the child. The child is expected to absorb knowledge; his true development is ignored, but he is expected to know something; he is expected to acquire learning. Certainly those in favour of reform in education complain loudly about this academic attitude, but they cannot get away from it. Anyone who is fully aware of these things and has a clear picture in his mind of how a Greek child was educated; anyone who then turns his attention to what happens in a modern school where, even though gymnastics are taught, the development and training of the human being is completely overlooked and scraps of knowledge taken from the sciences are given to the youngest children, must perforce say: It is not only that teachers become skeletons of civilisation, are such already, or if not, regard it as their ideal to become so in one way or another, or at any rate to look upon it as an essential requirement—it is not only that the teachers are like this, but these little children look as if they were small professors. And should one wish to express what constitutes the difference between a Greek child and a modern child, one might well say: A Greek child was a human being, a modern child all too easily becomes a small professor.
This is the great change that has taken place in the world as far as the shaping and development of culture is concerned. We no longer look at the human being himself, but only at what can be presented to him in the way of knowledge, what he should know and bear as knowledge within him. Western civilisation has developed downwards to the point at which the gymnast has descended to the rhetorician and the rhetorician to the professor. The upward direction must be found again. The most important words for modern education at the present time are these: The professor must be superseded. We must turn our attention once more to the whole man. Now consider how this comes to expression in the world-wide significance of education. Not long ago, in Middle Europe, there was a university which had a professor of eloquence. If we go back to the first half of the 19th century we find such professors of eloquence, of rhetorical speech, in many places of learning; it was all that remained of the old rhetoric. Now at the university I have in mind there was a really significant personality who held the post of professor of eloquence. But he would never have had anyone to listen to him if he had been this only, for no one any longer felt the faintest inclination to listen to eloquence. He gave lectures only on Greek archaeology. In the University Register he was entered as “Professor of Eloquence,” but actually one could hear only his lectures on Greek archaeology. He had to teach something leading to the acquisition of knowledge, not to the acquiring of a capacity. And indeed this has become the ideal of modern teaching. It leads out into a life in which people know a tremendous amount. Already it hardly seems to be an earthly world any more, where people know so enormously much. They have so much knowledge and so little ability, for that function is lacking which leads from knowledge to ability. For instance, someone is studying for the medical profession, and the time comes for his final examinations. He is now told, quite officially, that as yet he can do nothing, but must now go through years of practical training. But it is absurd that students during their first years are not taught in such a way as to be able to do something from the very beginning. What is the purpose of a child knowing what an addition sum is—if he can only add? What is the purpose of a child knowing what a town is—if he only knows what the town looks like? Wherever we are, the whole point is that we enter into life. And the professor leads away from life, not into it.
The following example can also show us the world-wide significance of education. It was still very apparent in Greece when people came to the Olympic Games. There they could see what it was on which the Greeks laid such value; there they knew that only the gymnast could be a teacher in the schools. It was still similar in the time of the rhetorician. And with us? There are certain people who would like to resuscitate the Olympic Games. This is nothing but a whimsical idea, for in present-day humanity there is no longer any need for them. It is a mere piece of external imitation and nothing is to be gained by it. What penetrates right through the man of today is neither centred in his speech, nor in his studied bearing and gestures, but is something centred in his thoughts. And so it has come about that science now has a positively demonic significance for the world. The cause of this demonic world-wide significance lies in the fact that people believed that things thought out intellectually could further the development of culture. Life was to be shaped and moulded according to theories. This holds good, for instance, in modern Socialism, the whole tenor of which is to fashion life in accordance with such concepts. It was in this way that Marxism came into the world: a few, ready-made uncoordinated concepts, such as “surplus value” and so on—on these life was to be judged and ordered. Nobody then saw the connections and consequences. But a survey of the totality is absolutely necessary. Let us go to a place in the more westerly part of Middle Europe. Some decades ago a philosopher was teaching there who no longer had anything from life, for he had turned everything into the form of concepts. He believed that life could be formed conceptually. This belief he put forward in his lectures. He had a preference for Russian pupils, of whom he had many, and his philosophy found its practical realisation in Bolshevism. He himself remained an ordinary, upright, middle-class citizen; at that time he had not the faintest inkling of what he was doing in sowing the seed of his philosophy. There grew out of it, nevertheless, the remarkable plant that has blossomed in Bolshevism. The seed of Bolshevism was first sown in the universities of the West; it was sown in the thoughts, in the abstract, intellectualistic education given to the rising generation. Just as someone who knows nothing about plants has no idea what will sprout from a seed, so the people had no idea of what was to grow out of the seed they had planted. They only saw the consequences when the seed began to grow. This is because man no longer understands the great inter-relationship of life.
The world-significance of modern intellectualistic education is that it leads right away from life. We see this if we simply consider quite external things. Before the world war we had books. Well, as you know, one masters the content of these books for just so long as one is reading or making notes on them. Otherwise they remain in the library, which is the coffin of the spiritual life. And only when somebody is perhaps obliged to produce a thesis, does he have to take out the books. This happens in a quite external way, and the person concerned is glad when their content only enters into his head and does not penetrate any further into his being. This is the case everywhere.
But now let us look into life. We have the economic life, the life of rights, and the spiritual life. This all goes on, but we do not think any more about it. We do not think any more at all about inner realities, we think in terms of bank-books. What is still contained in banking of real concern to our economic life—or even to our spiritual life, when, for example, the accounts of schools are prepared? These contain the abstract figures on the balance sheet. And what have these figures brought about in life? They have brought it about that man is no longer personally bound up with what he does. Gradually a point is reached at which it is all one to him whether he is a corn merchant or an outfitter; for trousers mean as much to him as anything else. Now he only calculates what profits are brought in by the business; he only looks at the abstract figures, with an eye for what is likely to prove more lucrative. The bank has taken the place of a living economic life. One draws money from the bank, but apart from this, leaves banking to its economic abstractions. Everything has been changed into abstract externalities, with the result that one is no longer humanly involved in things. When the bank was founded, it was still closely bound up with human beings, because people were still accustomed to standing within the living work of existence, as was the case in earlier times. This was still so in the first half of the 19th century. Then the director of a bank still impressed into it a personal character; he was still actively engaged in it with his will, he still lived with it as a personality. In this connection I should like to relate a little story which describes how the banker Rothschild behaved when a representative of the king of France came to arrange for a State credit. At the time of the ambassador's arrival Rothschild was having a consultation with a dealer in leather. The ambassador, whose visit was concerned with making arrangements for this credit, was duly announced. Rothschild, whose business with the dealer in leather was not yet finished, sent a message, asking him to wait. The minister could not understand how an ambassador from the king of France could possibly be kept waiting and he desired to be announced once more. To this Rothschild said: I am now engaged in business concerning leather, not with state affairs. The minister was now so furious that he burst open the door into Rothschild's room, saying: “I am the ambassador of the king of France!” Rothschild replied: “Please, take a chair.” The ambassador, believing that he had not heard rightly, repeated: “I am the ambassador of the king of France.”—for he could not conceive that anyone in his position could be offered a chair. Whereupon Rothschild replied: “Take two chairs.”
So we see how the personality at that time still made itself felt, for it is there. Is it still there today? It is there in exceptional cases, when, for example, someone breaks through public officialdom. Otherwise, where once there was the personality, there is now the joint-stock company. Man no longer stands as a personality in the centre of things. If one asks: What is a joint-stock company?—the answer may well be: A Society consisting of people who are rich today and poor tomorrow. For things take quite another course today than they did formerly; today they pile up, tomorrow they are again dissolved; human beings are thrown hither and thither in this fluctuating state of affairs, and money does business on its own. So it happens today that a man is glad when he comes into a situation where he can amass a certain amount of money. He then buys a car; later on he buys a second one. Things proceed in this way until his situation changes and now money is scarce. He perforce sells one of the cars and soon after the other one also. This points to the fact that man is no longer himself in control of economic and business life. He has been thrown out of the objective course of business life. I put this forward for the first time in 1908 in Nuremberg, but people did not understand much about it. It was the same in the spring of 1914 in Vienna when I said: Everything is heading towards a great world catastrophe because human beings are now outside the real and concrete and are growing ever more and more into the abstract, and it is clear that the abstract must inevitably lead into chaos. Yet people would not understand it.
Now what must be borne in mind above all else, if one has a heart for education, is that we must free ourselves from the abstract and again work our way into the concrete, realising that everything turns on man himself. Hence emphasis should not be laid too strongly on the necessity for the teacher to have a thorough knowledge of Geography and History, of English or French, but rather that he should understand man, and should build up his teaching and education on the basis of a true knowledge of the human being. Then, if need be, let him sit down and look out in the encyclopaedia the material he requires for his teaching; for if a man does this, but as an educator stands firmly on the ground of a real understanding and knowledge of man, he will nevertheless be a better teacher than one who has an excellent degree, but is totally lacking in true knowledge of the human being.
Then we come to the world-significance of the art of education; then we know that what happens in the school is reflected in the culture of the outer world. This could easily be seen in the case of the Greeks. The gymnast was to be seen everywhere in public life. When the Greek, no matter what he was like in other respects, stood confronting the Agora, it was apparent that he had been educated as a gymnast. In the case of the Romans, what lived in a man's schooling came less into external form.
With us, however, what lives in the school finds its expression only through the fact that life escapes us more and more, that we grow out of life, no longer grow into it; that our account books have their own life to a degree of which we have scarcely an inkling, a life so remote that we no longer have any power over it. It takes its own course; it leads an abstract existence, based only on figures.
And let us look at human beings who are highly educated. At most we recognise them because they wear glasses (or perhaps they don't) on their attenuated little organ. Our present day education has world significance only through the fact that it is gradually undermining the significance of the world.
We must bring the world, the real world into the school once more. The teacher must stand within this world, he must have a living interest in everything existing in the world. Only when the teacher is a man or woman of the world, can the world be brought in a living way into the school. And the world must live in the school. Even if to begin with this happens playfully, then in an aesthetic way, thus finding its expression step by step, it is nevertheless imperative that the world lives in the school. Therefore today it is much more important to draw attention to this approach of mind and heart in our newer education than ever and again to be thinking out new methods. Many of the old methods still in use are good. And what I wanted to say to you is most certainly not intended to put the excellent exponents of education of the 19th century in the shade. I appreciate them fully; indeed I see in the teachers of the 19th-century men of genius and great capacity, but they were the children of the intellectualistic epoch; they used their capacity to work towards the intellectualising of our age. People today have no idea of the extent to which they are intellectualised. Here we touch precisely on the world significance of a new education. It lies in the fact that we free ourselves from this intellectuality. Then the different branches of human life will grow together again. Then people will understand what it once meant when education was looked upon as a means of healing, and this healing was connected with the world significance of the human being. There was a time when the idea, the picture of man was thus: when he was born into earthly existence he actually stood one stage below the human, and he had to be educated, had to be healed in order to rise and become a true man. Education was a healing, was of itself a part of medical practice and hygiene. Today everything is separated. The teacher is placed side by side with the school doctor, externally separated. But this doesn't work. To place the teacher side by side with the school doctor is much as if one looked for tailors who made the left side of a coat, and for others who made the right side, without having any idea who was to sew the two separated parts together. And in the same way, if one takes the measurements of the teacher who is quite unschooled in medicine—the right side of the coat—and then takes the measurements of the doctor, who is quite unschooled in education—the left side of the coat—who is going to sew them together nobody knows! Action must therefore be taken. We must rid ourselves of the “left” tailor and the “right” tailor and replace them once again with the tailor able to make the whole coat. Impossible situations often only become apparent when life has been narrowed down to its uttermost limit, not where life should be springing up and bubbling over.
This is why it is so difficult for us to gain an understanding of what is meant by the Waldorf School. A sectarian striving away from life is the reverse of what is intended. On the contrary, there is the most intensive striving to enter into life.
In such a short course of lectures it is clearly only possible to give a short survey of all that is involved. This I have attempted to do and I hope that it may have proved stimulating. In the final lecture I shall bring the whole course to a conclusion.
Neunter Vortrag
Was in der Schule zu leisten ist, das steht eigentlich in der ganzen Kultur- und Zivilisationsentwickelung drinnen. Es steht nur entweder mehr direkt drinnen, indem man leicht sehen kann, wie eine Zivilisation sich in ihrer pädagogischen Kunst ausdrückt, oder es steht unbemerkt drinnen. Die Zivilisation ist doch immer ein Abbild dessen, was in der Schule getrieben wird; nur merkt man es manchmal nicht. Das werden wir gleich bei unserer Epoche charakterisieren können. Aber nehmen wir zunächst einmal die orientalische Kultur.
So innerlich kennt man ja eigentlich die ältere orientalische Kultur und das, was von ihr geblieben ist, sehr wenig. Die orientalische Kultur hat gar kein intellektuelles Element; sie geht hervor aus dem ganzen Menschen, so wie er eben ist als Orientale, und sie sucht Mensch an Mensch zu binden. Sie kommt eigentlich schwerlich hinaus über das Autoritätsprinzip. Alles, was gebildet wird, geht mehr aus der Liebe hervor, auf natürliche Weise. Daher kann man im Orientalentum gar nicht von einem getrennten Erzieher und einem getrennten Zögling sprechen, so wie wir das tun. Man hat dort nicht den Lehrer und Erzieher, sondern man hat den Data. Der Data macht vor; er lebt das dar durch seine Persönlichkeit, was der heranwachsende Mensch annehmen soll. Der Data ist der, der alles zeigt, der überhaupt nicht lehrt. Zu lehren, hätte keinen Sinn in der orientalischen Kultur. Es gibt einen sehr berühmten Pädagogen in Europa, der namentlich in Mitteleuropa viel bestimmend war in bezug auf pädagogische Fragen, Herbart. Von ihm rührt der Ausspruch her: Ich kann mir eine Erziehung ohne Unterricht gar nicht denken. — Bei ihm war alles darauf abgezirkelt, wie man lehrt. Der Orientale würde gesagt haben: Ich kann mir eine Erziehung mit Unterricht nicht denken, — weil in dem Erziehen, in dem Vormachen und Vorleben dasjenige schon drinnen liegt, was beim Zögling herauskommen soll. Das geht bis zum Initiierten, zum Guru, und dem Chela, dem Schüler, hin, dem auch nicht gelehrt, sondern vorgemacht wird.
Wenn man auf solche Dinge eingehen kann, wird man auch leichter begreifen, was es heißt: Wir wollen durch die Waldorfschul-Pädagogik wieder alle Erziehung hinlenken auf den ganzen Menschen. Wir wollen nicht geistige und körperliche Erziehung getrennt haben, sondern wir wollen, wenn wir den Körper erziehen — weil wir ihn aus geistigen Grundsätzen heraus, aber recht praktisch erziehen -, bis in die Krankenverhältnisse hinein erziehen. Wir wollen im Körper den Geist wirken lassen; so daß in der Waldorfschule die körperliche Erziehung nicht vernachlässigt wird, aber sie wird so gestaltet, daß man dabei weiß: der Mensch ist Seele und Geist. Und unsere Pädagogik enthält durchaus eben alles, was zur körperlichen Erziehung notwendig ist.
Dann muß man wieder verstehen lernen, was der Grieche verstanden hat. Die griechische Erziehung war eine gymnastische. Der Lehrer war Gymnast, das heißt, er wußte, was eine Bewegung im Menschen bedeutet. Dem Griechen der älteren Zeit hätte man noch etwas ziemlich Unverständliches gesagt, wenn man bei ihm so geredet hätte: man soll den Kindern logisches Denken beibringen. Denn der Grieche hat gewußt, was dadurch bewirkt wird, wenn man dem Kinde — etwas milder bei den Athenern, etwas rauher bei den Spartanern — gesunde Gymnastik beibringt. Er war sich darüber klar: Wenn ich weiß, wie ich bei einem Handgriff die Finger zu bewegen habe, damit ich nicht ungeschickt, sondern geschickt werde, so geht das in die ganze Organisation herauf, und ich lerne im geschickten Anwenden meiner Glieder ordentlich denken; und ich lerne ordentlich sprechen, wenn ich mich gymnastisch richtig bewege. — Alles was im Menschen sogenannte geistige und seelische Bildung ist, die zur Abstraktion hin will, die geht ja nur auf unnatürliche Weise hervor aus einem direkten Unterricht. Bildung sollte hervorgehen aus der Art und Weise, wie man sich mit dem Körper bewegen kann. Daher ist unsere Zivilisation ja so abstrakt geworden. Es gibt heute Männer, die können keinen Strumpf stricken, können nicht einmal einen Hosenknopf, wenn er abgerissen ist, wieder annähen. Bei uns in der Waldorfschule sitzen Knaben und Mädchen untereinander, und die Knaben bekommen einen richtigen Enthusiasmus zum Stricken und Häkeln; sie tun es - und dabei lernen sie ihre Gedanken handhaben. Es ist gar kein Wunder, daß ein Mensch, wenn er noch so viel logisch geschult ist, nicht ordentlich denken kann, wenn er nicht weiß, wie man strickt. Dabei bemerken wir in unserer Zeit, wieviel leichter beweglich die Gedankenwelt der Frauen ist. Man gehe nur nach der Zulassung der Frauen an die Universität und schaue nach, wieviel leichter beweglich das Geistig-Seelische der Frauen ist als das der Männer, das versteift, abstrakt geworden ist an einer abgezogenen Tätigkeit. Und am schlimmsten ist das bemerkbar bei der kommerziellen Tätigkeit. Wenn man einem Kaufmanne zuschaut, wie er seine Dispositionen trifft, so möchte man an den Wänden heraufkriechen.
Das sind die Dinge, die man wieder verstehen muß. Man muß wissen, daß ein Knabe, selbst wenn ich noch so viel auf die Tafel zeichne, viel besser spitze und stumpfe Winkel unterscheiden lernt, man muß wissen, daß man viel besser als durch alles Begreiflichmachen die Welt verstehen lernt, wenn man den Kindern angewöhnt, zwischen der großen und der nächsten Zehe den Bleistift zu halten und auch da noch leidlich gutgeformte Buchstaben zustande zu bringen, das heißt also, wenn aus dem ganzen Körper heraus das Geistige des Menschen fließt. In der griechischen Kultur hat man darauf gesehen, wie ein Kind sich bewegen lernt, wie es Hitze und Kälte ertragen lernt, wie es sich hineinfügen lernt in die körperliche Welt, weil man ein Gefühl dafür hatte, wie aus einer richtig entwickelten Körperlichkeit auch das Geistig-Seelische richtig herauswächst. Der Grieche hat, als Gymnast erzogen, den ganzen Menschen ergriffen und daraus die andern Fähigkeiten sich entwickeln lassen. Wir wissen heute mit unserer abstrakten Wissenschaft eine sehr wichtige Wahrheit, aber wir wissen sie abstrakt: Wenn wir Kinder haben, die leicht mit der rechten Hand schreiben lernen, so weiß man heute, daß dies damit zusammenhängt, daß beim Menschen das Sprachzentrum in der linken Gehirnhälfte liegt; so daß also Sprechen und Schreibenlernen auf diese Weise innerlich zusammenhängen. Wir merken den Zusammenhang der Handgesten mit dem Sprechen; ebenso können wir auch, wenn wir weitergehen, durch die Physiologie den Zusammenhang zwischen Bewegung und Denken kennenlernen. Also man weiß heute schon etwas abstrakt davon, wie aus der menschlichen Bewegungsfähigkeit Denken und Sprechen hervorgehen; der Grieche aber wußte das im umfänglichsten Sinne. Daher sagte der Gymnast: Der Mensch wird schon ordentlich denken lernen, wenn er nur ordentlich gehen und springen lernt; wenn er ordentlich Diskus werfen lernt. - Und wenn er lernt, über das Ziel hinauszuwerfen, so wird er auch noch den Schildkrötenschluß lernen, wird auf all die merkwürdigen logischen Dinge kommen, die man in Griechenland aufgezählt hat. Und dadurch lernt man, sich in die Wirklichkeit hineinzustellen. Heute wird bei uns gewöhnlich so gedacht: Hier ist ein Advokat, dort ein Klient, der Advokat weiß die Dinge, der andere weiß sie nicht. - Weil man aber in Griechenland gewohnt war, über das Ziel hinauszuwerfen, so wußte man: Wie ist es nun, wenn einer als Rechtskundiger einen Schüler hat in der Rechtskunde, und dieser Schüler wird von ihm so gut unterrichtet, daß er jeden Prozeß gewinnen muß? Dann entspinnt sich aber der Prozeß zwischen ihm und seinem Lehrer, und dann kommt die Sache heraus: Du wirst den Prozeß unter allen Umständen gewinnen und unter allen Umständen verlieren. — Sie kennen den Schluß: er steht in der Luft. So entwickelte sich also alles Denken und Sprechen aus der gymnastischen Erziehung; sie ging auf den ganzen Menschen.
Gehen wir nun zum Romanismus. Der ganze Mensch tritt dort zurück; er bleibt noch in der Pose. Beim Griechen ist es elementar-natürlich, was noch in der Bewegung lebt. Ein Römer in der Toga hat ganz anders ausgeschaut als ein Grieche; er bewegte sich auch anders, denn er ist Pose geworden. Dafür ging die Erziehung über auf einen Teil der menschlichen Wesenheit: auf das Sprechen, auf das schöne Sprechen. Es war noch immer viel, denn der ganze Oberkörper ist beim Sprechen beteiligt, bis ins Zwerchfell und ins Gedärm hinein. Es ist viel am Menschen beteiligt, wenn man schön sprechen lernt. Und alles ging darauf hinaus, an den Menschen heranzukommen mit der Erziehung, den Menschen zu etwas zu machen. Das bleibt noch, als die Kultur ins Mittelalter hineingeht. In Griechenland war der wichtigste Erzieher der Gymnast, der auf den ganzen Menschen ging; im Romanismus wurde der wichtigste Erzieher der Rhetor. Die ganze Kultur- und Weltperspektive war in Griechenland auf den schönen Menschen im ganzen eingestellt. Man begreift nicht eine griechische Dichtung, nicht eine griechische Plastik, wenn man nicht weiß, daß die ganze Weltperspektive auf den in Bewegung begriffenen Menschen eingestellt ist. Wenn man eine griechische Statue sieht, ist man sogleich versucht, aus der Mundbewegung zu sehen: wie ist die Fußstellung und so weiter? Das wird anders im Romanismus. Da tritt der Rhetor an die Stelle des Gymnasten, da wird die ganze Kultur eine rednerische. Da wird die ganze Erziehung darauf angelegt, rednerisch zu sprechen, schön zu sprechen, Eloquenz zu entwickeln. Das geht bis ins Mittelalter hinein, wo man noch immer am Menschen arbeitete. Sie können das sehen, wenn Sie sich fragen: Was war in der Erziehung des Mittelalters vorhanden, die überhaupt bis zu einem gewissen Ende erzogene Menschen bilden sollte? Da gab es zum Beispiel die sogenannten sieben freien Künste: Grammatik, Rhetorik, Dialektik, Arithmetik, Geometrie, Astronomie oder Astrologie und Musik. Da sollte der Mensch als Mensch gebildet werden, sollte als Mensch vorwärtskommen. Da wurde zum Beispiel Arithmetik auch nicht so getrieben wie heute, sondern es kam an auf die Fähigkeit, ins Behandeln der Formen und Zahlen hineinzuführen. Und im Musikalischen zum Beispiel lebte man sich hinein noch in das ganze Leben. Und Astronomie: da wurde der Mensch darin eingeführt, kosmisch zu denken. Man ging in allem an den Menschen heran. Die sogenannten Realien von heute spielten im Unterricht kaum eine Rolle. Daß der Mensch etwas als Wissenschaft aufnehmen sollte, darauf legte man einen geringen Wert; viel mehr Wert legte man darauf, daß er ordentlich sich bewegen, ordentlich reden, denken und rechnen kann. Aber daß er irgendwelche fertige Wahrheit aufnehmen sollte, war von geringerer Wichtigkeit. Daher entwickelte sich die ganze Kultur- und Zivilisationsperspektive im Auftreten und Handeln und Sich-Geben der Menschen. Man war stolz, wenn man Menschen hatte, die rhetorisch auftreten konnten, die überhaupt den Menschen hinstellen konnten.
Die Kulturströmung, die das bis in die späteren Zeiten, ja bis zu einem gewissen Grade bis heute erhalten hat, das ist die jesuitische Schulung, die, als sie eingerichtet wurde, und noch im 18. und selbst noch in der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts darauf ausging, Menschen, fast könnte man sagen, zu dressieren zu Willenscharakteren und als solche die Menschen ins Leben hineinzustellen. Darauf ging die jesuitische Kultur eigentlich aus. Und erst im Laufe des 19. Jahrhunderts haben die Jesuiten, damit sie nicht zu viel hinter den andern zurückblieben, die Realien in den Unterricht eingeführt. So also entwickelten die Jesuiten die energischen, starken Charaktere; so daß man heute, gerade wenn man Gegner des Jesuitismus ist, in der Lage ist, sagen zu müssen: Könnte man nur Menschen mit solchem Zielbewußtsein hervorbringen, im Guten hervorbringen, wie es für die Dekadenz der Menschheit die Jesuiten getan haben!
Diese Entwickelung des Menschen steckt noch im Romanismus, als aus dem Gymnasten der Rhetor geworden ist. Wir sehen daher, welcher ungeheure Wert in der Zivilisation, die auf der Grundlage der rhetorischen Erziehung steht, auf alles gelegt wird, was auch im Leben eine Weltbedeutung im Rhetorischen gewinnt. Versuchen Sie nur einmal, das ganze Leben des Mittelalters daraufhin anzuschauen: alles verrät, daß man so hinschaut auf das Leben, wie man hinschaut auf das Sprechen, wenn dieses rhetorisch sein soll, wie sich ein Mensch benehmen soll, wie er grüßen soll und so weiter. Alles das ist nicht eine selbstverständliche Art, sondern das alles wird nach einem Schönheitsbegriffe gemacht, wie in der Rhetorik die Sprache nach einem Schönheitsbegriffe genossen wird. Da sehen Sie die ganze Weltbedeutung der rhetorischen Pädagogik aufsteigen; während die Weltbedeutung der griechischen Pädagogik in dem liegt, was in der Bewegung des Menschen sichtbar zum Ausdruck kommt.
Und nun kommt die neuere Zeit mit dem 16. Jahrhundert; eigentlich bereitet sie sich schon mit dem 15. Jahrhundert vor. Wiederum wird das, was noch viel im Menschen darstellt, das Rhetorische, zurückgedrängt. Hat das Rhetorische schon zurückgedrängt das Gymnastische, so wird jetzt weiter das Rhetorische zurückgedrängt, und man nimmt nun wiederum ein noch kleineres Stück: man nimmt das, was nun immer mehr nach der Intellektualität zustrebt. Und war der römische Erzieher der Rhetor, so ist unser Erzieher der Doktor. War der Gymnast noch ein ganzer Mensch, war der Rhetor einer, der wenigstens, wenn er auftrat, den Menschen noch darstellen wollte: unser Doktor hat aufgehört, ein Mensch zu sein. Er verleugnet schon den Menschen und wächst in lauter Abstraktionen hinein; er ist nur noch ein Zivilisationsskelett. Daher in der neueren Zeit wenigstens der Doktor die merkwürdige Form annimmt, äußerlich sich weltmännisch zu kleiden; er trägt nicht mehr gern das Barett vor der Gerichtsbank, er zieht sich so an, daß man es ihm nicht äußerlich gleich ansieht, was er für ein Zivilisationsskelett ist. Aber unsere ganze Erziehung ist seit dem 16. Jahrhundert auf den Doktor eingestellt. Und die, die im Sinne dieser Weltbedeutung erziehen, sie tragen ja nicht mehr Menschenbildung und Menschengestaltung in die Schule hinein, sondern sie tragen Wissen an das Kind heran. Das Kind soll etwas aufnehmen; es soll nicht gestaltet, nicht entwickelt werden, es soll etwas wissen, soll gelehrt werden. Gewiß, die Reformpädagogik schimpft sehr über dieses Doktorprinzip, aber sie kommt ja doch nicht darüber hinaus. -— Wer diese Dinge durchschaut und namentlich eine genaue Vorstellung davon hat, wie ein griechisches Kind erzogen wurde, und nun in die moderne Schule hineinschaut, wo man wirklich, auch wenn man turnt, die Entwickelung, die Gestaltung des Menschen ganz übersieht, und nun Abrisse, Auszüge aus Wissenschaften an die jüngsten Kinder heranbringt, der muß sich sagen: Nicht nur, daß die Lehrer solche Zivilisationsskelette werden, es schon sind oder, wenn sie es noch nicht sind, als Ideal betrachten, auf irgendeine Weise es dann doch werden oder wenigstens das Bedürfnis haben, es zu sein, nicht nur daß die Lehrer so sind, sondern diese kleinen Kinder schauen so aus wie ganz kleine Doktoren. - Und wollte man ausdrücken, wodurch ein griechisches Kind sich von einem modernen Kinde unterscheidet, so könnte man sagen: Ein griechisches Kind ist ein Mensch, ein modernes Kind wird leicht ein «Doktorle».
Das ist die Umwandlung der Welt in der Kulturgestaltung. Wir schauen nicht mehr auf den Menschen, sondern auf das, was dem Menschen beigebracht werden soll, was er wissen und in sich tragen soll. So hat sich die abendländische Zivilisation dahin entwickelt, daß sie von dem Gymnasten durch den Rhetor zu dem Doktor herabgekommen ist. Sie muß wieder heraufkommen. Das wichtigste Wort für die moderne Pädagogik der neueren Zeit ist: Die Überwindung des Doktors. Wir müssen wieder den Blick bekommen für den ganzen Menschen.
Stellen Sie sich vor, wie sich dies in der Weltbedeutung der Pädagogik ausdrückt. Es hat in Mitteleuropa eine Universität gegeben, die noch vor einiger Zeit eine Professur für Eloquenz hatte. Wenn wir in die erste Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts zurückgehen, so finden wir überallan den Hochschulen solche Professuren für Eloquenz, für das schöne Reden - der Rest der Rhetorik. Nun gab es einen recht bedeutenden Mann an jener Universität, der dort Professor der Eloquenz war. Aber er hätte nie Hörer gehabt, wenn er nur dies gewesen wäre; denn keiner hatte mehr ein Bedürfnis, Eloquenz zu hören, er trug nur griechische Archäologie vor. In dem Universitätsverzeichnisse stand «Professor der Eloquenz», aber man konnte bei ihm nur griechische Archäologie hören, er mußte etwas lehren, was zum Wissen, nicht zum Können führt. Und dies ist ja das Ideal des modernen Unterrichtes geworden. Das führt dann hinaus zu einem Leben, wo die Leute so ungeheuer viel wissen. Es ist wirklich schon kaum eine Erdenwelt mehr, in der wir heute leben, wo die Menschen so riesig viel wissen. Sie wissen so sehr viel, aber sie können gar nichts; denn es führt nicht eine Funktion vom Wissen zum Können. Wird jemand zum Beispiel zum Arzte gebildet, so muß er zwar sein Schlußexamen machen, aber man gesteht ihm ja sogar offiziell zu, daß er noch nichts kann; er muß erst seine praktischen Jahre machen. Aber ein Unfug ist es, wenn man nicht sogleich in den ersten Jahren einen Unterricht so beigebracht bekommt, daß man auch sogleich etwas kann. Was kommt darauf an, daß das Kind weiß, was eine Addition ist - wenn es nur addieren kann. Was kommt darauf an, daß dasKind weiß, was eine Stadt ist — wenn es nur eine Anschauung hat von der Stadt. Überall kommt es darauf an, daß man ins Leben hineinkommt. Und der Doktor führt aus dem Leben heraus, nicht hinein.
Und so können wir die Weltbedeutung der Pädagogik ersehen: In Griechenland war es noch sehr anschaulich, wenn man zu den olympischen Spielen kam. Da sah man, worauf die Griechen Wert legten; da wußte man, in der Schule kann nur der Gymnast stehen. Es war in der rhetorischen Zeit noch ähnlich. Und bei uns? Einzelne Leute wollen die olympischen Spiele wieder aufleben lassen. Es sind Schrullen, denn es liegt kein Bedürfnis mehr dafür in der gegenwärtigen Menschheit vor. Was man macht, sind äußerliche Nachahmungen; es wird auch nichts dadurch erreicht. Aber was heute den Menschen durchdringt, ist etwas, was nicht in der Sprache, auch nicht in den Formen sitzt, mit denen er auftritt, sondern das ist das, was in seinen Gedanken sitzt. Und so ist es gekommen, daß die Wissenschaft zuletzt eine geradezu dämonische Weltbedeutung bekommen hat. Diese dämonische Weltbedeutung hat sie dadurch bekommen, daß man glaubte, nach den ausgedachten Dingen könne sich überhaupt die Kultur entwickeln; man müsse das Leben nach den Begriffen gestalten. Das gilt zum Beispiel von dem Sozialismus in der neueren Zeit; er will das Leben ganz nach den Begriffen gestalten. So trat der Marxismus in die Welt: ein paar zurechtgemachte, abgefällte Begriffe von «Mehrwert» und so weiter; danach soll das Leben beurteilt und gestaltet werden und die Zusammenhänge sieht man dann nicht. Aber die Zusammenhänge muß man überblicken! - Gehen wir an einen Ort, sogar im mehr westlichen Mitteleuropa. Dort lehrte vor Jahrzehnten ein Philosoph, der nichts mehr hatte vom Leben, der alles in Begriffe umgewandelt hatte. Er glaubte, das Leben in Begriffen formen zu können. Er trug das vor, hatte vorzugsweise viele russische Zöglinge, und seine Philosophie wurde praktisch im Bolschewismus. Er selbst war noch ein ganz biederer, bürgerlicher Mensch; er hatte noch keine Ahnung davon, wozu der Keim in seiner Philosophie gelegt wurde. Da wuchs aus ihr dann diese merkwürdige Pflanze heraus, die im Bolschewismus aufgegangen ist. An westlichen Universitäten wurde im Gedanken zuerst, im Abstrakten, im intellektualistischen Erziehen bei den herangewachsenen Leuten der Bolschewismus im Keime gelegt. Geradeso aber wie einer, der nichts von Pflanzen versteht, auch nicht weiß, was aus einem Keime herauswächst, so wußten diese Leute nichts davon, was aus diesem Keime herauswuchs. Sie sehen es erst, wenn die Saat aufgeht, weil eben die Menschen heute nichts mehr von den großen Zusammenhängen des Lebens verstehen.
Das ist die Weltbedeutung der neueren, intellektualistischen Erziehung, daß sie ganz vom Leben abführt. Und wir sehen das, wenn wir die äußeren Dinge einfach betrachten, wie sie sind. Wir sind ja eigentlich nicht mehr von demjenigen durchdrungen, was Leben ist, auf keinem Gebiete. Wir hatten vor dem Weltkriege Bücher. Ja, was in diesen Büchern steht, das weiß man, das beherrscht man nur so lange, als man an dem Buche schreibt oder es liest. Sonst steht es in der Bibliothek. Da ist das Geistesleben eingesargt. Und erst, wenn jemand zum Beispiel eine Dissertation zustande bringen soll, muß er es sich geben lassen. Das geht ganz äußerlich vor sich, und der Betreffende ist froh, wenn der Inhalt nicht weiter in ihn hinein muß als nur in den Kopf. So ist es aber überall.
Schauen wir aber jetzt ins Leben. Da haben wir das lebendige Wirtschaftsleben, Rechtsleben, geistige Leben. Das geht vor sich, aber wir denken nicht mehr darüber. Wir denken überhaupt nicht mehr innere Realitäten; wir denken in Bankbüchern. Was ist innerhalb des Bankwesens noch enthalten von unserem Wirtschaftsleben, oftmals auch von unserem geistigen Leben, wenn etwa die Konten von Schulen angelegt sind? Es sind enthalten die abstrakten Zahlen in ihren gegenseitigen Bilanzwerten. Und was hat das im Leben bewirkt? Es hat dies bewirkt: der Mensch ist nicht mehr zusammengewachsen mit dem, was er tut. Er kommt allmählich dahin, daß es ihm einerlei wird, ob er ein Getreidehändler wird oder ein Kleiderhändler; denn er hat die Hosen ebenso gern wie irgend etwas anderes. Er rechnet nur noch aus, was ihm das Geschäft einbringt; nur auf die abstrakten Zahlen sieht er, welches Gebiet noch am rentabelsten ist. Die Bank ist an die Stelle des lebendigen Wirtschaftslebens getreten. Man entnimmt der Bank das Geld, läßt sie aber im übrigen im Abstrakten wirtschaften. Alles hat sich verwandelt in ein abstraktes Außerliches. Man bleibt daher auch nicht als Mensch in den Dingen drinnenstecken. Als die Bank begründet wurde, war sie noch an den Menschen gefesselt, weil man das gewöhnt war aus dem früheren Drinnenstehen in der lebendigen Arbeit des Daseins. Das war noch so in der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts. Da hatte der, welcher der Bankchef war, noch der Bank den persönlichen Charakter aufgeprägt; er war noch mit seinem Willen darinnen, lebte noch als Persönlichkeit darin. — Ich erzähle hierbei gern eine kleine Geschichte, wie der Bankier Rothschild sich benommen hatte, als ein Vertreter des Königs von Frankreich einen Pump bei ihm anlegen wollte. Rothschild hatte, als der Abgesandte des Königs von Frankreich kam, gerade mit einem Lederhändler zu konferieren. Der Gesandte, der wegen eines Staatspumpes kam, ließ sich melden. Rothschild, der mit dem Lederhändler noch zu verhandeln hatte, ließ ihm sagen, er solle warten. Der Minister konnte nicht verstehen, wieso man ihn, den Abgesandten des Königs von Frankreich, warten lassen könne, und er ließ sich nochmals melden. Rothschild sagte dazu: Ich habe jetzt über Lederangelegenheiten zu verhandeln, nicht über Staatsangelegenheiten. - Da wurde der Minister so wild, daß er die Tür zu Rothschilds Zimmer aufriß, da er nicht mehr warten wollte, hereinstürzte und sagte: Ich bin der Abgesandte des Königs von Frankreich! - Rothschild sagte darauf: Bitte, nehmen Sie einen Stuhl! — Der Gesandte glaubte, nicht recht gehört zu haben und wiederholte: Ich bin der Abgesandte des Königs von Frankreich! - denn er konnte nicht begreifen, daß man ihm in dieser Situation einen Stuhl anbieten konnte. Worauf aber Rothschild ihm erwiderte: Nehmen Sie sich zwei Stühle!
So wirkte damals noch die Persönlichkeit, denn sie war da. Ist sie denn heute noch da? In Ausnahmefällen, zum Beispiel wenn jemand die öffentliche Ordnung durchbricht. Sonst ist ja, wo sonst die Persönlichkeit war, die Aktiengesellschaft da, die unpersönliche Aktiengesellschaft. Man steht heute nicht mehr als Persönlichkeit in den Dingen drinnen. Wenn man fragt: Was ist eine Aktiengesellschaft? — so kann man sagen: Eine Gesellschaft, in der Leute sind, die heute reich sind und morgen arm. — Denn die Dinge nehmen heute einen ganz andern Gang als früher; sie häufen sich heute, lösen sich morgen wieder auf, und die Menschen werden in diesen Gang der Dinge hinein- und wieder hinausgeworfen, und das Geld wirtschaftet für sich. So geschieht es denn heute, daß der Mensch froh ist, wenn er einmal in eine Stelle hineinkommt, wo er sich dann irgendeine Geldmenge anlegen kann. Er kauft sich also ein Auto, nach einiger Zeit kauft er sich ein zweites. Dann geht der Lauf der Dinge so weiter und der Mensch kommt an eine Stelle, wo nun das Geld dünn wird; jetzt verkauft er das eine Auto, etwas später verkauft er das andere. Worauf es aber ankommt, das ist, daß der Mensch nicht mehr selbst das Wirtschafts- und Geschäftsleben beherrscht; er wird aus dem objektiven Gang des Geschäftslebens herausgeworfen. Das habe ich zum ersten Male im Jahre 1908 in Nürnberg dargestellt, aber die Leute haben nicht viel davon begriffen. Geradeso wie ich im Frühjahr 1914 in Wien sagte: Alles drängt einer großen Weltkatastrophe entgegen, weil die Menschen aus dem Konkreten heraus- und immer mehr ins Abstrakte hineinwachsen, und weil man sehen kann, wie das Abstrakte zuletzt ins Chaos hineinführen muß. — Doch die Menschen wollten das nicht begreifen.
Aber das muß vor allem bedacht werden, wenn man für die Erziehungskunst ein Herz haben kann, daß aus dem Abstrakten heraus wieder ins Konkrete hinein gearbeitet werden muß, daß alles auf den Menschen ankommt; daß es daher für den Lehrer nicht so stark darauf ankommt, Geographie und Geschichte, englische oder französische Sprache und so weiter zu kennen, sondern den Menschen zu kennen, auf wirklicher Menschenerkenntnis Unterricht und Erziehung aufzubauen. Dann mag er sich meinetwillen hinsetzen und den Stoff zum Unterricht vorher aus dem Konversationslexikon sich heraussuchen; denn ein solcher, der dies macht, aber als Erzieher auf wirklicher Menschenerkenntnis fußt, wird dann in der Schule noch immer ein besserer Lehrer sein als einer, der seine Examina gut bestanden hat, aber von wirklicher Menschenerkenntnis weit entfernt ist.
Dann kommen wir auf die Weltbedeutung der pädagogischen Kunst; dann wissen wir, wie sich in der äußeren Kultur das spiegelt, was in der Schule geschieht. Bei den Griechen konnte man das leicht sehen. Der Gymnast zeigte sich überall im öffentlichen Leben. Wenn der Grieche gleichgültig, wie er immer war — vor der Agora stand, so sah man, da wird gymnastisch erzogen. Bei den Römern war es so, daß noch wenigstens in den äußeren Formen das zum Ausdruck kam, was in der Schulung lebte. Bei uns aber kommt das, was in der Schule lebt, im Leben nur dadurch zum Ausdruck, daß uns das Leben immer mehr und mehr entfällt, daß wir herauswachsen aus dem Leben, nicht mehr in es hineinwachsen; daß unsere Bilanzbücher in kaum geahntem Zusammenhange ihr eigenes Leben haben, welches uns entsinkt, denn wir haben ja nicht die Macht über sie. Das schreibt sich alles selber; es führt ein abstraktes, ein bloß zahlenmäßiges Leben.
Und schauen wir einmal die Menschen an, die es zu einer Bildung gebracht haben, höchstens erkennen wir sie noch daran, daß sie eine Brille tragen oder auch keine tragen, also an einem eingeschränkten, kleinen Organ. Unsere heutige Pädagogik hat die Weltbedeutung, daß sie die Weltbedeutung allmählich untergräbt.
Welt, wirkliche Welt müssen wir wieder in die Schule hineinbringen. Dazu muß man aber als Lehrer in der Welt drinnenstehen, muß ein lebendiges Interesse haben für alles, was in der Welt da ist. Nur dann, wenn der Lehrer zum Weltmanne, die Lehrerin selbstverständlich zur «Weltfrau» wird, kann in der Schule drinnen auch Welt leben. Und Welt muß in der Schule leben; wenn Welt auch da zuerst noch auf spielerische, dann auf ästhetische Weise, sodann auf vorbereitende Weise zum Ausdruck kommt, aber Welt muß in der Schule leben. Daher ist es heute schon viel notwendiger, auf dieses gesinnungs- und gefühlsmäßige Element in der neueren Pädagogik hinzuweisen, als immer wieder und wieder neue Methoden auszusinnen. Viele Methoden sind gut, die von altersher geblieben sind. Und das, was ich Ihnen sagen wollte, es ist ganz gewiß nicht in dem Sinne gesagt, um die ausgezeichneten Pädagogen des 19. Jahrhunderts, die ich voll anerkenne, irgendwie in den Schatten zu stellen. Ich sehe sogar in den Pädagogen des 19. Jahrhunderts Menschen von großem Genie und großer Kapazität, aber sie waren Kinder des intellektualistischen Zeitalters; sie haben mit ihrer Kapazität hineingearbeitet in die Verintellektualisierung unseres Zeitalters. Und die Menschen wissen heute gar nicht, wie sie verintellektualisiert sind. Darin muß die Weltbedeutung einer neuen Pädagogik liegen, daß wir über das Verintellektualisierte hinauskommen. Da werden dann die verschiedenen Zweige des menschlichen Lebens wieder zusammenwachsen. Da wird man verstehen, was es einmal geheißen hat, wenn man das Erziehen wie ein Heilen angesehen hat und wenn das zusammenhing mit der Weltbedeutung der menschlichen Wesenheit. Man hatte sich vorgestellt, daß der Mensch, indem er hineingeboren wird ins irdische Dasein, eigentlich eine Stufe unter den Menschen steht, und daß er erst herauferzogen, heraufgeheilt werden muß zum Menschen. Erziehen war ein Heilen, war von selbst ein Teil des medizinischen, des hygienischen Wirkens. Heute ist alles getrennt. Man möchte neben den Lehrer den Schularzt hinstellen, äußerlich getrennt. Aber die Dinge gehen nicht. Neben den Lehrer den Schularzt stellen, heißt ungefähr, solche Schneider suchen, die einem die linke Seite des Rockes, und solche, die einem die rechte Seite des Rockes nähen; wer die beiden getrennten Teile dann zusammennäht, weiß man dann nicht. Und ebenso, wenn man die Maßnahmen des medizinisch ganz ungeschulten Lehrers — die rechte Seite des Rockes — nimmt, dann die Maßnahmen des pädagogisch ganz ungeschulten Arztes - die linke Seite des Rockes — nimmt: wer die zusammennäht, weiß man nicht. Darum aber wird es sich handeln müssen: den «Links»-Schneider und den «Rechts»-Schneider zu überwinden und wieder den einheitlichen Schneider zu haben. Aber solche Unmöglichkeiten bemerkt man gewöhnlich nur an den äußersten Ranken des Lebens, nicht dort, wo das Leben wirklich sprudeln sollte. Daher kommen wir so schwer heute auch nur zum Begreifen dessen, was mit so etwas, wie es die Waldorfschule ist, gemeint ist. Nicht ein sektiererisches Hinausstreben aus dem Leben ist gemeint, sondern gerade das intensivste Hineinstreben ins Leben.
In einem so kurzen Vortragskursus kann selbstverständlich auch nur eine kurze Andeutung von allem gegeben werden. Das habe ich versucht, hoffe aber damit doch einige Anregungen gegeben zu haben, und ich werde nun im Schlußvortrag den ganzen Kurs abschließen.
Ninth Lecture
What needs to be achieved in school is actually contained within the entire development of culture and civilization. It is either contained more directly, in that it is easy to see how a civilization expresses itself in its educational art, or it is contained unnoticed. Civilization is always a reflection of what is done in school; it's just that sometimes we don't notice it. We will be able to characterize this in our epoch in a moment. But let's take Oriental culture first.
In truth, we know very little about ancient Oriental culture and what remains of it. Oriental culture has no intellectual element whatsoever; it emanates from the whole person, just as they are as Orientals, and it seeks to bind people to one another. It actually finds it difficult to go beyond the principle of authority. Everything that is formed emanates more from love, in a natural way. Therefore, in Oriental culture, one cannot speak of a separate educator and a separate pupil, as we do. There is no teacher or educator, but rather the data. The data sets an example; he lives out through his personality what the growing person should accept. The data is the one who shows everything, who does not teach at all. Teaching would make no sense in Oriental culture. There is a very famous educator in Europe who was very influential in Central Europe in particular with regard to educational issues, Herbart. He is the source of the saying: I cannot imagine education without teaching. For him, everything was geared towards how to teach. An Oriental would have said: I cannot imagine education with teaching, because education, demonstration, and example already contain what should come out in the pupil. This extends to the initiate, the guru, and the chela, the disciple, who is also not taught, but shown by example.
If one can respond to such things, it will also be easier to understand what it means when we say: Through Waldorf school education, we want to redirect all education toward the whole human being. We do not want to separate spiritual and physical education, but rather, when we educate the body — because we educate it based on spiritual principles, but in a very practical way — we want to educate it right down to the level of health conditions. We want to let the spirit work in the body, so that physical education is not neglected in Waldorf schools, but is designed in such a way that we know that human beings are soul and spirit. And our pedagogy contains everything that is necessary for physical education.
Then we must learn to understand again what the Greeks understood. Greek education was gymnastic. The teacher was a gymnast, which means he knew what movement means for human beings. To the Greeks of ancient times, it would have been quite incomprehensible to say that children should be taught logical thinking. For the Greeks knew what effect teaching children healthy gymnastics had — somewhat more gently in Athens, somewhat more harshly in Sparta. They were clear about this: if I know how to move my fingers when performing a task so that I become skilled rather than clumsy, this permeates my entire being, and I learn to think properly through the skillful use of my limbs; and I learn to speak properly when I move correctly in gymnastics. — Everything in human beings that is so-called intellectual and spiritual education, which tends toward abstraction, can only emerge in an unnatural way from direct instruction. Education should emerge from the way in which one can move with the body. That is why our civilization has become so abstract. Today there are men who cannot knit a sock, cannot even sew a button back on a pair of pants when it has come off. At our Waldorf school, boys and girls sit together, and the boys develop a real enthusiasm for knitting and crocheting; they do it — and in the process they learn to control their thoughts. It is no wonder that a person, no matter how much logical training they have had, cannot think properly if they do not know how to knit. At the same time, we notice in our time how much more flexible the minds of women are. Just look at the admission of women to university and see how much more flexible the mental and emotional life of women is than that of men, which has become rigid and abstract through detached activity. And this is most noticeable in commercial activity. When you watch a businessman making his decisions, you want to crawl up the walls.
These are the things that need to be understood again. It is important to know that a boy, no matter how much I draw on the blackboard, learns to distinguish between acute and obtuse angles much better one must know that one learns to understand the world much better than by making everything comprehensible if one accustoms children to hold the pencil between the big toe and the next toe and still manage to produce reasonably well-formed letters, that is, when the spirit of man flows out of the whole body. In Greek culture, attention was paid to how a child learns to move, how it learns to endure heat and cold, how it learns to fit into the physical world, because there was a sense that a properly developed physicality also allows the spiritual and emotional to grow properly. The Greeks, educated as gymnasts, embraced the whole person and allowed the other abilities to develop from that. Today, with our abstract science, we know a very important truth, but we know it abstractly: when we have children who learn to write easily with their right hand, we now know that this is related to the fact that the language center in humans is located in the left hemisphere of the brain, so that learning to speak and write are internally connected in this way. We notice the connection between hand gestures and speech; likewise, if we go further, we can also learn about the connection between movement and thinking through physiology. So today we already know something abstractly about how thinking and speaking arise from human motor skills; but the Greeks knew this in the most comprehensive sense. That is why the gymnast said: Man will learn to think properly if he only learns to walk and jump properly; if he learns to throw the discus properly. And when he learns to throw beyond the target, he will also learn the tortoise conclusion, will come up with all the remarkable logical things that were enumerated in Greece. And through this one learns to place oneself in reality. Today, we usually think like this: here is a lawyer, there is a client, the lawyer knows things, the other person does not. But because people in Greece were accustomed to throwing beyond the target, they knew: what happens when a legal expert has a student in law, and this student is taught so well by him that he must win every case? Then the lawsuit unfolds between him and his teacher, and then the matter comes out: you will win the lawsuit under all circumstances and lose under all circumstances. — You know the conclusion: it is in the air. So all thinking and speaking developed from gymnastic education; it applied to the whole person.
Let us now turn to Romanism. The whole human being recedes there; he remains in pose. For the Greeks, what still lives in movement is elementary and natural. A Roman in a toga looked very different from a Greek; he also moved differently, because he had become a pose. In return, education focused on one part of the human being: speech, beautiful speech. This was still a great deal, because the entire upper body is involved in speaking, right down to the diaphragm and the intestines. A great deal of the human being is involved in learning to speak beautifully. And everything boiled down to approaching the human being with education, to making the human being into something. This remained as culture entered the Middle Ages. In Greece, the most important educator was the gymnast, who addressed the whole person; in Romanism, the most important educator was the rhetorician. The entire cultural and world perspective in Greece was geared toward the beautiful human being as a whole. One cannot understand Greek poetry or Greek sculpture without knowing that the entire world perspective is focused on the human being in motion. When one sees a Greek statue, one is immediately tempted to look at the movement of the mouth to see how the feet are positioned and so on. This changes in Romanism. The rhetorician takes the place of the gymnast, and the whole culture becomes one of oratory. The whole education system is geared towards speaking eloquently, speaking beautifully, developing eloquence. This continues into the Middle Ages, where people were still being shaped. You can see this if you ask yourself: what was present in medieval education, which was supposed to produce educated people to a certain extent? There were, for example, the so-called seven liberal arts: grammar, rhetoric, dialectic, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy or astrology, and music. The aim was to educate people as human beings, to help them progress as human beings. Arithmetic, for example, was not taught in the same way as it is today, but rather the emphasis was on the ability to introduce people to the handling of forms and numbers. And in music, for example, people immersed themselves in the whole of life. And astronomy: people were introduced to cosmic thinking. Everything was approached from a human perspective. The so-called realia of today played hardly any role in teaching. Little importance was attached to people learning something as a science; much more importance was attached to them being able to move properly, speak properly, think and calculate. But whether they should accept any ready-made truths was of lesser importance. Therefore, the whole perspective of culture and civilization developed in people's behavior, actions, and self-presentation. People were proud when they had individuals who could speak rhetorically, who could present themselves well.
The cultural trend that has persisted into later times, and to a certain extent even today, is Jesuit education, which, when it was established, and even in the 18th and first half of the 19th centuries, aimed to train people, one might almost say, to become strong-willed characters and to place them in life as such. That was actually the aim of Jesuit culture. And it was only in the course of the 19th century that the Jesuits introduced practical subjects into their teaching so as not to lag too far behind the others. This is how the Jesuits developed energetic, strong characters, so that today, especially if one is an opponent of Jesuitism, one is forced to say: If only one could produce people with such determination, in a good way, as the Jesuits did for the decadence of humanity!
This development of the human being is still evident in Romanism, when the gymnast became the rhetorician. We can therefore see the enormous value that civilization, based on rhetorical education, places on everything that also gains world significance in rhetoric in life. Just try to look at the whole of medieval life from this perspective: everything reveals that one looks at life in the same way as one looks at speech, if it is to be rhetorical, how a person should behave, how they should greet others, and so on. None of this is a matter of course, but everything is done according to a concept of beauty, just as in rhetoric language is enjoyed according to a concept of beauty. Here you can see the whole world significance of rhetorical pedagogy emerging, whereas the world significance of Greek pedagogy lies in what is visibly expressed in human movement.
And now comes the modern era with the 16th century; in fact, it was already being prepared in the 15th century. Once again, what still represents much in human beings, the rhetorical, is pushed back. If the rhetorical has already pushed back the gymnastic, now the rhetorical is pushed back further, and an even smaller piece is taken: that which now strives more and more toward intellectuality. And if the Roman educator was the rhetorician, our educator is the doctor. If the gymnast was still a whole human being, if the rhetorician was someone who, at least when he appeared, still wanted to represent the human being, our doctor has ceased to be a human being. He already denies the human being and grows into pure abstractions; he is now only a skeleton of civilization. That is why, at least in recent times, the doctor has taken on the strange habit of dressing in a sophisticated manner; he no longer likes to wear his cap in court, he dresses in such a way that you cannot immediately tell from his appearance what a skeleton of civilization he is. But since the 16th century, our entire education system has been geared towards the doctor. And those who educate in the spirit of this worldly significance no longer bring human education and human development into the school, but rather bring knowledge to the child. The child is supposed to absorb something; it is not supposed to be shaped or developed, it is supposed to know something, it is supposed to be taught. Certainly, progressive education rails against this doctor principle, but it does not go beyond it. Anyone who sees through these things and has a precise idea of how a Greek child was educated, and now looks at the modern school, where, even when doing gymnastics, the development and shaping of the human being is completely overlooked, and where fragments and excerpts from the sciences are brought to the youngest children, must say to themselves: Not only do teachers become such skeletons of civilization, or already are, or, if they are not yet, regard it as an ideal, and in some way become it or at least feel the need to be it, not only are teachers like this, but these little children look like very small doctors. And if one wanted to express what distinguishes a Greek child from a modern child, one could say: A Greek child is a human being, a modern child easily becomes a “little doctor.”
This is the transformation of the world in the shaping of culture. We no longer look at the human being, but at what the human being should be taught, what he should know and carry within himself. Thus, Western civilization has developed in such a way that it has descended from the gymnast to the rhetorician to the doctor. It must rise again. The most important word for modern pedagogy in recent times is: overcoming the doctor. We must regain our view of the whole human being.
Imagine how this is expressed in the global significance of pedagogy. There was a university in Central Europe that, until recently, had a professorship for eloquence. If we go back to the first half of the 19th century, we find such professorships for eloquence, for beautiful speech—the remnants of rhetoric—everywhere in the universities. Now there was a very important man at that university who was a professor of eloquence there. But he would never have had any listeners if that had been all he did, because no one had any need to hear about eloquence anymore; he only lectured on Greek archaeology. The university directory listed him as “professor of eloquence,” but all you could hear from him was Greek archaeology; he had to teach something that led to knowledge, not skill. And this has become the ideal of modern education. This then leads to a life where people know so much. It is really hardly an earthly world anymore in which we live today, where people know so much. They know so much, but they can do nothing, because knowledge does not lead to skill. If, for example, someone is trained to be a doctor, they have to take their final exam, but it is even officially acknowledged that they cannot do anything yet; they first have to complete their practical training. But it is nonsense if, in the first few years, you are not taught in such a way that you can immediately do something. What does it matter if the child knows what addition is—if they can only add? What does it matter if the child knows what a city is—if they only have an idea of the city? Everywhere, what matters is that one enters into life. And the doctor leads out of life, not into it.
And so we can see the global significance of education: in Greece, it was still very clear when you came to the Olympic Games. There you could see what the Greeks valued; there you knew that only the gymnast could stand in school. It was similar in the rhetorical period. And in our time? Some people want to revive the Olympic Games. These are quirks, because there is no longer any need for them in contemporary humanity. What is being done are external imitations; nothing is achieved by them. But what permeates people today is something that does not reside in language, nor in the forms with which they present themselves, but rather in their thoughts. And so it has come to pass that science has ultimately acquired an almost demonic significance in the world. It has acquired this demonic significance in the world because people believed that culture could develop according to the things they had thought up; that life had to be shaped according to concepts. This applies, for example, to socialism in modern times; it wants to shape life entirely according to concepts. This is how Marxism came into the world: a few ready-made, derogatory concepts of “surplus value” and so on; life is then to be judged and shaped according to these concepts, and the connections are not seen. But one must see the connections! Let us go to a place, even in more western Central Europe. Decades ago, a philosopher taught there who had nothing left of life, who had transformed everything into concepts. He believed he could shape life in concepts. He presented this, had many Russian pupils, and his philosophy became Bolshevism in practice. He himself was still a very conservative, bourgeois person; he had no idea what the seed of his philosophy would grow into. Then this strange plant grew out of it, which blossomed into Bolshevism. In Western universities, Bolshevism was first planted in the minds of grown-up people through abstract, intellectual education. But just as someone who knows nothing about plants does not know what will grow from a seed, these people knew nothing about what would grow from this seed. They only see it when the seed sprouts, because people today no longer understand the big picture of life.
That is the global significance of the newer, intellectual education, that it leads one away from life entirely. And we see this when we simply look at external things as they are. We are actually no longer imbued with what life is, in any area. We had books before the World War. Yes, what is in these books, one knows, one masters it only as long as one is writing or reading the book. Otherwise it is in the library. There, intellectual life is encased. And only when someone has to write a dissertation, for example, does he have to take it in. This is done quite externally, and the person concerned is glad if the content does not have to penetrate further into him than just into his head. But this is the case everywhere.
But let us now look at life. There we have living economic life, legal life, spiritual life. This is going on, but we no longer think about it. We no longer think about inner realities at all; we think in terms of bank books. What is still contained within the banking system of our economic life, and often also of our spiritual life, when, for example, the accounts of schools are set up? It contains abstract numbers in their mutual balance sheet values. And what effect has this had on life? It has had this effect: people are no longer connected to what they do. They gradually reach the point where it doesn't matter to them whether they become a grain dealer or a clothing dealer, because they like pants just as much as anything else. They only calculate what the business will bring them; they only look at the abstract numbers to see which area is still the most profitable. The bank has taken the place of living economic life. Money is taken from the bank, but otherwise it is left to operate in the abstract. Everything has been transformed into an abstract externality. As a result, one does not remain involved in things as a human being. When the bank was founded, it was still tied to people, because that was what people were used to from their previous involvement in the living work of existence. This was still the case in the first half of the 19th century. At that time, the head of the bank still imprinted his personal character on the bank; his will was still present there, and he still lived there as a personality. — I would like to tell a little story about how the banker Rothschild behaved when a representative of the King of France wanted to take out a loan from him. When the envoy of the King of France arrived, Rothschild was in the middle of a meeting with a leather merchant. The envoy, who had come to ask for a state loan, asked to be announced. Rothschild, who still had business to discuss with the leather merchant, told him to wait. The minister could not understand why he, the envoy of the King of France, should be kept waiting, and he had himself announced again. Rothschild replied: “I am currently negotiating leather matters, not state affairs.” The minister became so enraged that he threw open the door to Rothschild's room, as he no longer wanted to wait, rushed in and said: “I am the envoy of the King of France!” Rothschild replied, “Please, take a seat!” The envoy thought he had misheard and repeated, “I am the envoy of the King of France!” because he could not understand how anyone could offer him a seat in this situation. To which Rothschild replied: Take two chairs!
That's how personality worked back then, because it was there. Is it still there today? In exceptional cases, for example when someone breaks public order. Otherwise, where personality used to be, there is now the stock corporation, the impersonal stock corporation. Today, one no longer has a personality in things. If one asks: What is a corporation? — one can say: A company in which there are people who are rich today and poor tomorrow. — Because things take a completely different course today than they used to; they accumulate today, dissolve again tomorrow, and people are thrown into and out of this course of events, and money manages itself. So today, people are happy when they find a job where they can invest some money. They buy a car, and after a while they buy a second one. Then the course of events continues and people reach a point where money is running out; now they sell one car, and a little later they sell the other. What matters, however, is that people no longer control economic and business life themselves; they are thrown out of the objective course of business life. I first described this in Nuremberg in 1908, but people did not understand much of it. Just as I said in Vienna in the spring of 1914: Everything is pushing toward a great world catastrophe because people are growing out of the concrete and more and more into the abstract, and because one can see how the abstract must ultimately lead to chaos. — But people did not want to understand this.
But if one has a heart for the art of education, one must above all bear in mind that one must work from the abstract back to the concrete, that everything depends on the human being; that it is therefore not so important for the teacher to know geography and history, English or French, and so on, but to know the human being, to base teaching and education on a real knowledge of the human being. Then, for my sake, he may sit down and select the material for his lessons in advance from the encyclopedia; for someone who does this, but who as an educator is based on real knowledge of human nature, will still be a better teacher in school than someone who has passed his exams well, but is far removed from real knowledge of human nature.
Then we come to the global significance of the art of education; then we know how what happens in school is reflected in external culture. This was easy to see among the Greeks. The gymnast was everywhere in public life. When the Greek, indifferent as he always was, stood in front of the agora, one could see that he had been educated in gymnastics. With the Romans, at least in outward forms, what lived in schooling was expressed. In our case, however, what is alive in school is only expressed in life in such a way that life is increasingly slipping away from us, that we are growing out of life, no longer growing into it; that our balance sheets have a life of their own in a barely imagined context, which is sinking from our minds because we have no power over them. It all writes itself; it leads an abstract, purely numerical life.
And if we look at the people who have attained an education, we can at best recognize them by the fact that they wear glasses or do not wear glasses, that is, by a limited, small organ. Our current pedagogy has the global significance of gradually undermining global significance.
We must bring the world, the real world, back into school. To do this, however, teachers must be part of the world, must have a lively interest in everything that exists in the world. Only when the teacher becomes a man of the world, and the teacher, of course, a “woman of the world,” can the world also live in school. And the world must live in school; even if the world is first expressed in a playful way, then in an aesthetic way, and then in a preparatory way, the world must live in school. That is why it is much more necessary today to point out this element of attitude and feeling in modern pedagogy than to keep coming up with new methods. Many methods that have remained from ancient times are good. And what I wanted to say to you is certainly not meant to somehow overshadow the excellent educators of the 19th century, whom I fully acknowledge. I even see the educators of the 19th century as people of great genius and great capacity, but they were children of the intellectual age; with their capacity, they contributed to the intellectualization of our age. And people today do not even know how intellectualized they are. The global significance of a new pedagogy must lie in our ability to move beyond intellectualization. Then the various branches of human life will grow together again. Then we will understand what it once meant to view education as a form of healing and how this was connected to the global significance of human nature. It was imagined that when a human being is born into earthly existence, they are actually one step below other humans and must first be raised up, healed up, to become human. Education was healing; it was naturally part of medical and hygienic work. Today, everything is separate. People want to place the school doctor next to the teacher, separated externally. But things don't work that way. Placing the school doctor next to the teacher is like looking for tailors who will sew the left side of the coat and those who will sew the right side of the coat; then you don't know who will sew the two separate parts together. And likewise, when you take the measures of the teacher, who is completely untrained in medicine — the right side of the coat — and then take the measures of the doctor who is completely untrained in pedagogy — the left side of the skirt — no one knows who will sew them together. But that is what will have to be done: to overcome the “left” tailor and the “right” tailor and once again have the unified tailor. But such impossibilities are usually only noticed at the extreme fringes of life, not where life should really be bubbling. That is why it is so difficult for us today to even comprehend what is meant by something like the Waldorf school. It does not mean a sectarian striving out of life, but rather the most intense striving into life.
In such a short lecture course, of course, only a brief hint of everything can be given. I have tried to do that, but I hope to have provided some inspiration, and I will now conclude the entire course in the final lecture.