The Rudolf Steiner Archive

23. The Faculty of Philosophy and Theosophy

[ 1 ] In the series of lectures on the relationship between universities and the Theosophical Movement, today’s is the fourth, focusing on Theosophy and its relationship to the Faculty of Philosophy. We must bear in mind that this faculty is perhaps of far greater significance for education and contemporary culture than the other three faculties, for the faculty of philosophy encompasses the disciplines of the specialized sciences that span the entire field of research, so that anyone who, without a specific bias, simply wishes to delve into wisdom and worldview for the sake of knowledge and education must turn their attention to it. The Faculty of Philosophy has undergone great changes; however, it has grown from an institution of education into an institution of miseducation. It used to be a so-called “artists’ faculty”—a very telling name—which was intended to prepare students for the study of theology, philosophy, and medicine.

[ 2 ] You know that what we call a university today originated in the 12th and 13th centuries, and we can see that, right up until the 18th century, anyone who wished to rise to the heights through study had to complete a preparatory course in philosophy. This was structured in such a way that the aim was not a specific specialized education, but rather a formal education intended to shape the intellectual development of the individual in a formal manner. Among other subjects, rhetoric, dialectics, astronomy, and music were taught. The latter was understood as an appreciation for harmonies in the structure of the universe and in the smaller phenomena that surround us. Emphasis was placed on first maturing the mind. The trend of our time is to place only very little weight on formal education.

[ 3 ] I must touch upon something that seems quite heretical in our time. There is a strong tendency today to underestimate the importance of the formal in relation to the material. People place great value on trying to grasp things with their intellect as much as possible, on amassing as much knowledge as they can. Anyone who views things as is customary today will not understand me. Who today would not immediately take sides if someone said the following: There are two methods of learning languages. One method, which is considered ridiculous today, is the one in which people are plagued with meaningless practice sentences, such as: My father turned fifty today. — My aunt is traveling to Paris tomorrow. - People smile at such things—and yet the question is whether they have good reason to do so. Today, people believe it would be better to take sentences from some great classic. Thus, we have come to the point today where such banal sentences are avoided in school; instead, we prefer to take sentences from the classics, which are then torn apart and dissected, thereby becoming unpalatable to the learner. So on the one hand we find the meaningless, on the other the dissection. It will not be easy today to find anyone who takes the former’s side. And yet for the psychologist there is no question that the first approach is the correct one. It is clear to him that the human mind must remain with the formal as long as possible, that reason should be called upon as late as possible, and that we learn best when the content of things leaves us as indifferent as possible. In the years when the mind is most receptive, one should first set it straight. Let us first learn to speak properly before our thoughts are put into practice; first let the intellect mature in the background, let it acquire the ability to develop logic as formally as possible; then this precious asset of humanity slowly matures. It is clear that one cannot simply apply one’s intellect to a problem. Thus, formal education first, before that which can emerge as the richest fruit within a person matures.

[ 4 ] The Faculty of Arts was the name given to the philosophy department in the Middle Ages. It was an intellectual engagement with the body of thought, and it contained an overwhelming mass of ideas. Later, the lower levels of the Faculty of Arts were incorporated into the gymnasium. Today’s philosophy department does not deserve its name; it is a mere collection of disciplines. This was not always the case. When the University of Berlin was founded, the philosopher Fichte stood at its helm. At that time, every single specialized discipline was integrated into a larger organism. Fichte was imbued with the conviction that the world is a unity, and that any knowledge not permeated by this is fragmentary. Why, for example, do we study botany, mathematics, and history? We study these sciences because we want to gain insight into the whole structure of the world. In another era, delving into the specialized sciences would not have been so disastrous. But the image of the unity of the world has faded. The Faculty of Philosophy is supposed to pursue science for its own sake. It used to do so, but in doing so it came into conflict with cultural life. Friedrich Schiller himself spoke in a speech at the University of Jena of the difference between the philosophical mind and the pedant. And back then, it wasn’t yet so bad. Whoever possesses a philosophical mind may pursue anything; the broadest perspectives open up to him from every science. He sees in the plant the greatest mysteries of the world, just as the psychologist sees them in the human soul. Specialization had to take hold. We know too much today to master everything. Great minds like Leibniz, Leonardo da Vinci, and others were able to master the knowledge of their time. Today, that is rare. We can only hope that a new life will come to the specialized sciences. But for the scholar of the trade, science is a cow that gives him milk, nothing more.

[ 5 ] There would be no objection if technical schools were established for every field of study. But this has no greater value than learning any other trade. From the perspective of understanding the world, it makes no difference whether I become a shoemaker or a chemist. There should be a general awareness that specialized study is no more valuable than any other form of study in life. The chemist, botanist, and so on are in the same position vis-à-vis the great philosopher as the tradesman. But anyone who understands what it means to acquire a philosophical education knows that there must be places where science is pursued for its own sake. In this regard, the fragmentation into specialized sciences is not good, especially in an age in which materialism has taken hold of everything. Today, the philosophy department is nothing more than a training ground for high school teachers. In and of itself, there would be nothing wrong with that: it would be the very best thing if philosophy devoted itself to the task of training educated teachers. Nurturing the human soul is one of life’s most beautiful tasks. Yet only those who are artists in the field of psychology and can take on the task of guiding souls will be able to accomplish it. It is not for nothing that the great minds of the world have called man a microcosm. There is no branch of knowledge that cannot be utilized to nurture a human soul. Therefore, it will be far from the educator’s mind to merely seek to cram knowledge into people during their young years, and he will naturally turn to the formal aspects. Science occupies a very special position when viewed from the perspective of an educator. What a painter knows from having studied painting does not yet make him a painter. What a musician has studied does not yet make him a musician. The same is true of the educator. For the educator, knowledge is not everything unless, as with the painter or musician, it has been transformed into art, so that his mind, like physical organs, has absorbed what he knows, so that the knowledge is, as it were, fully digested. The human soul should be an organism in which spiritual nourishment is transformed and assimilated. Only then is a person a philosophical mind. It is certainly right that universities teach the specialized sciences. But what should emerge from them is a different kind of person, a person who has become an artist.

[ 6 ] If theosophical thinking is ever actually applied there, academic exams will not be the deciding factor. Just as someone who possesses only erudition lacks the qualities of an artist, so too will someone who has merely passed the required exams never become an artist. We must adopt a new perspective on the examination system. The examiner must not merely test knowledge, but also assess what kind of person the candidate is, whether they have the right outlook on life, how much they have made their own, and to what extent they have become a new person. This has been overlooked in our materialistic age. Today’s philosophy department emerged when outward appearances were regarded as the be-all and end-all. All other sciences were born from philosophy. In the past, there was an awareness of the interconnectedness of all knowledge; but today, if one does not denounce the Middle Ages, one arouses prejudice. Yet back then, people sensed what truly mattered for the world and for humanity.

[ 7 ] In 1388, a man was appointed to the University of Vienna as a professor of both theology and mathematics! Today, a professor would faint at the thought. But we know what great service mathematical thinking can render to where theology leads us. Whoever learns to think in such a way that he trains himself in mathematics learns to think quite differently; he can also be a mystic without becoming a dreamer. Those who have not acquired comprehensive knowledge can only succumb to suggestion. With this, they embark on a specialized course of study. What can they know if they have gone through a purely philosophical high school education—what can they possibly know about mathematics? Only mathematical concepts, without a clue that mathematics introduces us to the great laws of the universe.

[ 8 ] It was not so long ago that people still knew this. In the Middle Ages, this view was not dangerous, for it is not true that the iron-fisted theology of the Middle Ages had shackled everything in chains. The best proof of this is that, for example, a disputation was held at the University of Paris on the following topics: “The discourses of theology are based on fables.” “The Christian religion prevents anything superficial from being added to theology.” It was possible to dispute these topics back then. Today, disputations are conducted differently. In the past, disputation was fruitful because people had acquired a formal education. Today, it is very easy to point out errors in reasoning. But all disputation based on errors in reasoning is fruitless, because people are not clear on the fact that the one who disputes must first understand the technique of disputation. In the Middle Ages, mathematics was considered the foundation of all knowledge, even of art. That is why the great idealism that can exist—and of which our time has no concept—was possible. A characteristic statement by Leonardo da Vinci, this representative of great idealism, is that mechanics is the paradise of the mathematical sciences. He was both an artist and a mathematician. The physical education of his time dwelt in his soul. Likewise, the way of thinking and the knowledge of his time speak to us through his pictorial creations. He called the external world the paradise of mathematics! Where he built bridges, thoughts about the spirit of humanity flowed to him . . . [gap].

[ 9 ] In the theosophical sense, this means “sacrifice to the world”: the less one does for oneself, the more one is able to contribute to the culture of one’s time. What we develop within ourselves is not as important as what we plant in the world. It is not what we perfect within ourselves, but what we give to the world that is the pledge and the treasure that is imperishable. While building bridges, thoughts about the spirit of humanity flowed to Leonardo da Vinci as mathematical concepts. The gods desired free beings, not a thing in nature. What humanity consciously creates in the material world is an execution of the divine plan for the world. The most mundane can become sacred if it serves the benefit of humanity. If we adopt this standpoint, we have embraced the great idealism within us, and this idealism must permeate the entire philosophy department. All the specialized sciences can certainly be accommodated within the framework of our philosophy department. But as the center of our worldview, it must stand at the core and not take a back seat to the individual specialized sciences. Through this central philosophical science, we would arrive at an artistic perspective. The doctoral degree should be awarded only to those who have internalized this central disposition: to possess life within themselves. The philosopher’s final examination must be a test of his or her ways of life; the sole honorific title of the Doctor of Philosophy must be based on the fact that the substance of life inherent in this way of life is contained within the individual. Otherwise, the Doctor of Philosophy is a mere ornament, a pretense, a social form. It is not knowledge alone that belongs to the Doctor of Philosophy, but knowledge transformed into the art of living. Such consciousness has already existed. Thus, a Doctor of Philosophy will possess only the maturity appropriate to the philosophical mind. A widespread dissemination of the theosophical worldview would naturally lead to this, for the theosophical worldview seeks to develop the powers that lie dormant within the human being. The theosophist is aware that human beings are capable of development, that just as a child must develop, so too can the spirit and the soul develop to a higher level. Human beings are simply not yet fully formed when they come from high school and universities. The theosophical mindset seeks to emphasize more and more that human beings are only at the beginning of their development. The philosophy department should set the tone in this regard. It should evolve from a mathematical mindset toward a spiritual direction; everything should converge toward this pinnacle. Theosophy is not that difficult. It would happen quite naturally that, if there were, for example, a theosophical faculty, eventually all sciences would become theosophical.

[ 10 ] Physiology is the science of phenomena in plants, animals, and humans. When physiology examines the structure of the eye and so on, these are images from which we derive the knowledge that humans see. Now, physiology teaches us today that, fundamentally, all our sensory perceptions depend on our sense organs; it teaches us the subjective. And finally, it tells us that we know absolutely nothing about what lies beyond our sensory perceptions. If we consider this, and do not remain thoughtless at this point but continue to explore intellectually, we arrive precisely at the same teaching that occultism gives us: that everything sensory is an illusion, and that the doctrine of sensory energy, when approached from a theosophical standpoint, leads to great depths. We need physiology; we must study it and then crown it with philosophy. We have no choice in the matter. Today, philosophy is merely a fragment within the philosophy department. It no longer has any power; it is a subject like any other. This should not be the case; it ought to provide the strength for the other subjects, yet instead it has itself taken on the character of individual specialized disciplines. The fact that thinking is essentially materialistic stems from the fact that it is not philosophy and the grand conception of the world that have the final say, but rather that psychology, having come over from other disciplines, has become an experimental science. If one believes that psychology is only practiced precisely when one experiments on human beings as one would on an inanimate crystal, then one regards human beings as something inanimate, soulless. Psychology can perceive nothing but the material expression. Theosophy would realize that the study of physiology and that of psychology are, in a certain sense, one and the same, and would integrate both into the great organization of knowledge. Because they are incapable of doing so, today’s universities cannot bring an idealistic worldview into the world. The philosophy department is not even capable of serving as a standard-bearer for a philosophical mindset. The faculty should not be an aggregate of various subjects, but should allow them to grow together into a common soul. Then, without our wishing to transplant Theosophy itself into the universities, Theosophical teaching will take place. Otherwise, however, the philosophy faculty remains an aggregate without a spiritual bond. And knowledge should become a living whole, from whose individual members the Spirit shines forth. As Theosophists, we will be satisfied if only this philosophical study is given priority and if it continues to develop on this foundation. Then it is well secured within Theosophy. We desire nothing other than what everyone must desire for the individual sciences for their own good. If Theosophy is to fulfill its task, it must not be a doctrine, but must be life. With every step we must be Theosophists; everything we do in life must be imbued with this living Theosophical spirit. Then the Theosophical movement will be more; it will be one of the most powerful cultural forces of the present. But it must gain influence over those who are chosen to guide our culture. We must profess and uphold Theosophy wherever we wish to be active in life. World events are not a lifeless entity, but a living one. It is beings, and not circumstances, that bring about the evolution of the human spirit. If Theosophy is a world of the spirit, then Theosophy is one of the most powerful cultural forces of our time. What matters is not the reading of Theosophical writings, but the mindset—that a person is moved by it in their daily life.