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I am not at all thinking of identifying our existence with the dream state and of pushing the parallel further. And, moreover, there is no necessity for this. It was important for me to establish that Husserl's first argument, his fundamental argument, is not at all as strong as he imagined. We are not always right to argue according to consequences, and it is not always necessary to be afraid of contradictory judgments. There is a certain limit beyond which it is necessary to guide oneself not according to the general rules of logic but according to something else which still does not, and probably never will, have any name in the language of men. Therefore, we must not have too much confidence in our a priori truths; we must sometimes renounce them, contrary to all philosophical traditions. If, then, one separates the point of view of the theory of knowledge from the psychological point of view, it would perhaps be better to follow the example of Sigwart and Erdmann who, in their theories of knowledge, brush relativism aside and leave it outside their theoretical reasonings. So, at least, the first condition which every theory of knowledge must satisfy is fulfilled: the postulates are formulated sharply and clearly. One can then remain a positivist and restrict himself to the immanent. But the situation of Husserl, who like Ibsen's Brand, does not admit compromises and at the same time fears or scorns metaphysics, appears completely insoluble, even though he does not even suspect it. He sees clearly the absurd conclusions to which one who decides to relativize the truth is led, but he does not notice that the danger is no smaller if one pretends to attain absolute truth without leaving the domain of the immanent. Let us examine this in more detail.
Husserl's doctrine about the object of knowledge (a doctrine which is related to that of Leibniz about the vérités de raison and the vérités de fait, which Husserl considers closest to his own [Log.Unter. I, 163, 191, compare to 117]) affirms, as we remember, the existence of the ideal, an existence which belongs to the same category as that to which the existence of the real belongs: these are two species of the same genus. The vérités de raison, however, have an existence completely independent of the real; I would say that they "are" par excellence. Even if there were not one living being, if all real objects without exception disappeared, the general laws, the truths, and the concepts would continue to exist.
If the real world had never been born, the existence of the ideal world would not have suffered any harm. The ideal world would then occupy entirely the category which actually includes, besides the ideal world, the real world. 2 + 2 = 4 would have remained the same even if no being had ever thought this statement. And the laws of gravitation would remain what they are even if all masses should disappear, and these laws already existed before any masses came into existence.
But what, then, is the relationship between the truths of reason, or the ideal truths, and the world of the real? Autonomous reason decrees its laws without concerning itself with reality, as if the latter did not exist. Indeed, since ideas exist, since they have their own being, why should they concern themselves with other kinds of existence? Have we, who proclaim the doctrine of sovereign reason, the right to say anything whatsoever about the real world before asking permission from the supreme master, the logos adespotos? [reason which is not a tyrant] We know that there is no authority other than reason. And reason is not something real, something psychological, a certain hic et nunc. Reason is also ideal, something in the genus of "consciousness in general" or of "the subject of the theory of knowledge" of the older German schools. And as this reason will decide, so shall it be.
But it suffices to put to reason the question of the existence of real objects immediately to obtain a perfectly clear and implacably categorical response: real being does not exist and cannot exist; the existence of the real is a kind of contradictio in adjecto [contradiction in definition], much worse even than that psychologism toward which the myopic philosophers turn continually despite the interdictions of reason (Cf. L. U. II, pp. 21 - 22, where Husserl says: nicht die mindeste Behauptung über reales Dasein [not the least affirmation about real being] and ob es überhaupt so etwas wie Menschen und eine Natur gibt). Indeed, if reason is autonomous, how will you oblige it to recognize the individual reality over which it has no power? In general, how will you constrain reason to anything whatsoever - that reason which has the power of constraining us and which, by its very nature, does not bear even the shadow of constraint? It will never accept any such limitation of its rights, for it knows well what this means. But that individual reality is the irreconcilable enemy of reason - this, I think, is a truth as evident (i.e., a truth about which reason does not admit any debate) as the truth of the principle of contradiction. All that is real, all that exists hic et nunc, as Husserl expresses it, is in the eyes of reason pure absurdity, which nothing can justify. We can still admit the idea of reality, the idea of space and time in which the real exists, but cannot, that is to say, our reason cannot, admit the real itself without abdicating. So, then, if reality had need, in order to be, of the recognition of reason, it would still not have come out of nothingness to the present day. We discover, then, between the ideal and the real or, to use Husserl's terminology, between reason and reality, an irreducible antagonism, a cruel struggle for the right to exist.
In the measure that reason triumphs, there remains less and less place for the real, and the complete victory of the ideal principle would mean the disappearance of the universe and of life. Contrary, then, to what Husserl thinks, I would say: to affirm the absolute existence of the ideal is to relativize and even destroy all reality. Husserl's efforts to reconcile the ideal and the real, the rational and the individual, by bringing them into the same category, that of being, where each has equal rights, lead not to a solution of the problem but to its obscuring; for thus is created the possibility of a metabasis eis allo genos - a leap into another realm, which is, so to speak, legal and in which this very relativism that is constantly hunted down, a relativism that no matter how many times killed - like the phoenix - is always born anew from its ashes, takes refuge. Both species of being belong to the same genus; what then can be more tempting and natural than to substitute the ideal for the real, or vice versa?
When Husserl declares that a mathematical law would continue to exist even if there would not be a single real consciousness to conceive it, he commits this metabasis which would have been completely impossible if he had not admitted the existence of ideal beings. He would also not have been able to say that the law of gravitation would be preserved even if all gravitating masses disappeared. If this statement is not a tautology empty of all meaning (and one cannot suspect Husserl of this), it is certainly false, for not only would the law cease to exist with the disappearance of masses, but even if masses continued to exist the law of gravitation could very well lapse. One can perfectly well admit the supposition of Mill that somewhere, in other planetary spheres (or, perhaps much closer to us), masses are not subject to the law of gravitation but come closer or move away from each other freely, without their movements being subject to any established plan. One can, one even must, admit this possibility, if one does not admit Kant's doctrine that reason dictates laws to nature. Our ideas of the regularity of phenomena, of rational relationships, of "unchangeable meanings," as Husserl says - all these ideas have an empirical origin. Husserl himself also understands this, it seems, but he assumes that he must forget it in order not to fall under the anathema already hurled by the Greek fathers of the Church of Science against all those who do not submit to the commands of reason. But no, on the contrary, we must not forget it. It will then appear that even the old 2 + 2 = 4 would not have been able to exist without the human intelligence capable of discovering one, two, and four and that law of multiplication according to which the product arises out of the multiplicand as the multiplicator is composed of unity. If one bears this in mind he will see that the ideal entities that exist outside of time, and therefore appear eternal, are essentially temporary and perishable.
So it is in a chess game. Husserl himself will tell you that in chess the king, the queen - in short, every piece - is an ideal entity which does not undergo any change from the fact of its real incarnations. Whether the king be of gold, of ivory, or of paste; whether it be in the figure of a cow or a sparrow; whether its head bear a crown or a tiara, will not in any way change its ideal being, which would no more have changed even if no chess figure had ever been incarnated. One can say the same of all other pieces. Consequently the idea of the king remains always equal to itself and identical, in the strictest sense of the term, whatever way the individual empirical consciousness may grasp it. One can even solemnly declare that monsters as well as angels and gods will have to see in it what men see in it, and to conclude from this that it is outside of time and eternal, and that the ideas of chess will continue to exist even if the entire universe disappeared. But whatever may be Husserl's daring, it does not occur to him to speak of eternal ideas in connection with chess pieces, though he once mentions the game of chess somewhere...
It is evident that the word "eternal" contains an equivocation that Husserl did not avoid, even though he constantly warns us against the dangers of the ambiguous use of terms and words. But it follows clearly from the example quoted that "eternal" and "atemporal" are not at all synonymous. On the contrary, the meaning of the word "atemporal" is much closer to that of the word "transitory." Ideal beings are just transitory things, and no proofs or argumentations of reason will be able to save them from inevitable death. They have triumphed for centuries and thousands of years, and their triumph will perhaps be of still longer duration. I am even inclined to believe that the power of the ideas will not fall for some time to come and perhaps will always persist on our earth. The arguments of reason exercise an irresistible power over the human mind, just as do the charms of morality. When it is necessary to choose between the rational and the real, man will always incline toward the rational. What Husserl expresses philosophically is finally only the free and bold expression of the state of mind of the immense majority of men: let the world perish, provided justice is saved; let life disappear, but let us not sacrifice reason! So men have thought, so men will think, and one can predict for rationalism a long, peaceful, almost "atemporal" existence.
But it requires only a moment for all this to change.
Indeed there are moments in the life of man when the imperatives of pure reason and the seductive chants of the siren called morality suddenly lose all their power. Man then perceives that reason and good are only the work of his own hands. It seems to me that all the philosophers have known such lucida intervalla; but they considered them the sign of a spiritual weakness, or they were unwilling or could not express them completely in their works. I think that the father of the theory of ideas himself, the divine Plato, knew such moments, and that his theory of ideas arose in him precisely in such lucid moments. This seems to be indicated by a passage of Aristotle's Metaphysics where it is said that Plato and his disciples obtained their ideas by setting before concrete words the term to auto - prostithentes toîs aisthêtoîs to rhêma to auto [placing in front of all objects of sense perception the word to auto (itself)]. They thus obtained such expressions as as autoanthrôpos, autoippos [man himself, horse itself] etc. This remark is very subtle and exact but it does not attain the goal Aristotle set himself: it does not at all discredit Plato's ideas but permits us, it seems, to penetrate further to their most inward esoteric essence and confers upon them the new charm of an intuition that is infinitely profound and inexpressible.
Plotinus, likewise, speaks openly not only of the idea of man but also of the idea of Socrates without fear of irreconcilable contradictions, as is appropriate to great philosophers. Once he writes that the ideas relate, in general, not to Socrates but to the species man (V. 9, 12). But another time he declares in the same categorical tone: "If there is a Socrates and if the soul of Socrates exists, there is also a Socrates in himself, inasmuch as the individual souls exists there (in the spiritual or noumenal universe)" (V. 7, I, beginning). Plotinus had apparently taken pity on Socrates and did not agree to submerge him in the general idea "man." Plotinus suddenly felt for a moment that to timiôtaton [the most important] is precisely Socrates, the Socrates hic et nunc who was the teacher of Plato and whom the Athenians poisoned at the accusations of Anytus and Meletus. He understood that philosophy could not get along without the living Socrates and that it was better for once to disobey reason than to refuse Socrates a place in the intelligible world.
In Plato the love of the individual shines through still more clearly than in Plotinus. For Plato the general ideas are only a kind of outer vestment, a breastplate under which he hid from strangers and from the mob that which was dearest in life to him. The elect have the gift of catching a glimpse in very rare moments with their own eyes of what is best, and they see this, no matter what theories may be constructed. But for the mob it is necessary to show the "general" which can be distinguished by common sight and demonstrated to all, i.e., the ideas. Kai ta men da horâsthai phamen, noeîsthai d'ou tas d'aû ideas noeîsthai men, horasthai d'ou [Further, the many things, we say, can be seen but are not objects of rational thought, whereas the forms are objects of thought but invisible] (Rep. 507b).
One perceives, by means of the reason that is common to all, only the general, the neutral. As for sight, one must have one's own. Such is the meaning of the myth of the cave at the beginning of the Seventh Book of the Republic. Real objects, the things that surround us, are only the pale reflection of true realities. We see Socrates and admire him, but this is not yet the true Socrates, him whom our soul saw in its prior existence, him whom it will see in its future existence. And, likewise, lions, horses, cypress trees that we admire on earth, are infinitely paler and poorer than those that exist in true reality and that it is given man at times to glimpse in brief moments of extraordinary exaltation.
In short, the "theory" of ideas such as the young Plato discovered in a particularly happy moment of inspiration meant that the idea is the quintessence of reality, the being kat'eksochên [par excellence] of which the images of daily reality present only a weak copy. It was only later when, under the pressure of an external necessity, he had to transform the ideas into a permanent and immutable good common to all, when he was obliged to defend them before the opinion of the mob and to demonstrate to everyone who came along what is by its very nature undemonstrable, - it was then, in a word, when he had to make a "science" out of philosophy, that Plato saw himself under obligation to sacrifice reality and to place on the first level that which could be "evident" to all. And the last stage was the theory of the ideas of numbers, for one can hardly imagine anything more evident than mathematics. If, then, at the beginning Plato had the right to claim that real objects are only the shadows of ideas, the contrary resulted later: his ideas became no more than the reflection of real objects, shadows with sharply delimited contours which, by this very fact, could be the object of that epistêmê (knowledge) for which men have so much respect. And it is under this aspect that the ideas pass into modern science.
The prototype of ideas, of Husserl's and Leibniz' vérités de raison is offered to us by mathematics. The science created after the pattern of mathematics claims supreme authority to decide all the doubts of mankind. And indeed, if the first quality of the judge must be perfect knowledge of everything in his province, science must take for its object the ideas in the sense that Husserl uses the term, i.e., that which does not and cannot contain any reality, like everything that is the work of man. The real arose one knows not whence; it is surrounded by a deep mystery infinitely rich with the unforeseen. And it is precisely this mysterious variability, this inconstancy, of the real that confers upon life its meaning, its charm, its beauty. But no science, as Husserl himself admits, is capable of plumbing the depths of this capricious and changing reality. Science finds in the real only what it has itself introduced into it; only the immutable is subject to it (ideel, also starr, as Husserl expresses himself); it feels itself master only in the domain which belongs to it, in the domain whose creator is a creature - man. Spinoza, it is true, teaches us and, we must believe, rightly that ille effectus perfectissimus est, qui a Dei immediate producitur, et quo aliquid pluribus causis intermediis indiget, ut producatur, eo imperfectius est [that effect is most perfect which is produced immediately by God, and insofar as something has need of many intermediate causes in order that it be produced, so much the more imperfect is it] (Ethics, I, XXXVI, Append. Cf. Plotinus, Enneads, V, I. 7). But in this domain, at least, reason can autocratically command and make itself obeyed, for there are absent from it living beings, those intractable beings to whom the whim of showing their own free will can occur. As for animating the ideas, this is not given to man; even if this power had been granted to him, he would not have dared so risky an enterprise. Therefore, in order to place the ideas on the level of things created by nature while at the same time maintaining them in obedience, Husserl confers upon them the predicate of being but categorically refuses to them the predicate of reality.
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