The gods above and the gods below!
A Brief Psychoanalytical and Philosophical Critique of Reason
§1. Reason and the Enlightenment
In a certain sense, the introduction of Sigmund Freud’s concept of the “unconscious” can be construed as a mockery of the intellectual traditions of the Western civilization. The appearance of Freud’s concept of the unconscious on the scene of the 20th century is deemed as a direct warning to the philosophical and scientific traditions, which can be traced back to the Age of Enlightenment (also known as the Age of Reason). Our Enlightenment legacy is the investiture of man with the unflinching trust in human reason. (For further exploration of the “Enlightenment” see the following link: https://philossophy.wordpress.com/2010/04/05/individualism/.) The Age of Enlightenment (roughly from 1650 to 1770) celebrated human reason and resurrected a sense of self-confidence and self-possession. The Enlightenment view firmly held that the new individuals of the age of science are equipped with reason and theories that can be put into practice in order to reform or remove the corrupt social and political institutions. The grandiose vision of the Enlightenment was to reconstruct the human world – through the use of reason, science, and technology – in order to serve the natural law of “progress”: that human reason can discover scientific truths about the natural world and human nature, and turn these bodies of knowledge into practice in forms of technology and social reform for the benefit of humanity. They believed they were, or would be soon, in command of all the knowledge necessary to improve the world.
After over two centuries since the Enlightenment, according to philosopher Herbert Marcuse (1798-1979), we have constructed a human intellect powerful enough to unravel the mysteries of the natural world, but any intellect that powerful has a peculiar tendency to be tyrannical! (For further exploration of Marcuse’s thoughts on “reason” see the following link: https://philossophy.wordpress.com/2010/04/14/totalitarian-reason/.) While it is true that science and technology have helped humanity to procure the knowhow to deal with certain areas of human life, it may not be a fair assessment that the progress of the Enlightenment project has made us less fearful and unsecure in the face of the modern uncertainties. We are still wrestling with the problems of poverty, hunger, unemployment, healthcare, drugs, population, racial conflicts, political uncertainty, economic inflation, recession, energy, water, and global warming. What is paradoxical about the Enlightenment’s tenacious confidence in human reason is that it has turned into a force of mystification of the human world. For instance, the Germans – who highly excelled themselves above many other people in science, technology, arts, literature, philosophy, civics, and industrialization since the dawn of modernity and became an epitome of civilization – the people who gave Goethe, Beethoven, and Einstein to the world, also gave birth to Nazism, brutality, and Auschwitz. They built a human intellect firm enough to withstand excruciating challenges and to ennoble man’s spirit, yet this intellect became totalitarian. How so? What could have gone wrong with reason?
§2. Cause vs. Reason (The Unconscious vs. Consciousness)
In his Some Elementary Lessons in Psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) writes about a case wherein a doctor hypnotized his patient and, while under hypnosis, instructed him as follows: I am going to leave the ward, but upon my return you are to bring my umbrella and hold it open over my head. Thereafter, the doctor brought the patient out of hypnosis and left the ward. When the doctor returned to the ward, the patient grabbed the umbrella, opened it, and held it over the doctor’s head. The doctor asked why he did that. The patient became embarrassed and gave him an unsound reason, such as that he thought it was raining outside and the doctor would need his umbrella!
The point is that, the patient’s reason for why he acted the way he did belies the actual cause of what he did. Here, Freud makes a distinction between the “cause” of the patient’s action (the “cause” of which the patient was unconscious) and the “reason” for his action (the “reason” of which the patient was conscious). Likewise, often, “causes” precede our actions while our “reasons” proceed from the actions. We commonly fabricate reasons for our choices or deeds – reasons that conceal, not reveal, the underlying causes of our decisions or activities. Often our reasons for why we do something (e.g., getting married or pursuing a college degree) betray the actual causes of why we do it. In other words, we unknowingly lie to ourselves! What we consciously want may not be what we really desire. Or, expressed in psychoanalytical terms, the “ego” thinks that it is acting autonomously, not realizing that the “id” is pulling its strings. It is in this particular sense that Freud’s concept of the unconscious has been a humiliating blow to the confidence in the philosophical and scientific pursuit of knowledge. Freud wonders what the ulterior motives underlying our pursuit of knowledge or truth could be. In a certain sense, the Western intellectual traditions were to demythologize the world; however, it seems that they have supplanted the old myths with the new ones: self-control and progress. Human reason, according to Freud, can never be truly sovereign.
The scientific advancements may have given us greater control of our environment, but for Freud a great many of our problems lie deep within ourselves. Unconscious forces of which we are unaware often dictate our thoughts and behaviors. Hence, Freud insists that we can acquire a greater degree of autonomy by understanding the unconscious psyche. In his The Interpretation of Dreams, he wrote, “The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.” For him, a significant measure of what takes place in human psyche is unconscious. He considers this as a fundamental premise of psychoanalysis. And, one of the most characteristic facets of psychoanalysis is its refusal to identify our mental life with what we are conscious of.
In his Introductory Lectures in Psychoanalysis, Freud considers that science has delivered three principal blows to “the naive self-love of men”. First, under Nicolaus Copernicus (1473-1543), it was discovered that the earth was not the center of the universe. Second, under Alfred Wallace (1823-1913) and Charles Darwin (1809-1882), their theories of evolution dethroned man from being the crown of creation and placed man amongst the animals. Third, Freud writes, perhaps not without a degree of conceit, “Human megalomania will have suffered its third and most wounding blow from the psychological research of the present time [in my hand], which seeks to prove to the ego that it is not even master in its own house, but must content itself with scanty information of what is going on unconsciously in its mind.”
§3. Myth of Reason
Although Freud’s psychoanalysis poses an affront to the philosophical and scientific traditions, yet he has shown us – in the name of science itself – that the apparent power of human mind is all too often derived from non-rational factors. He does not deprecate science to an illusion; nevertheless, once rationality is unveiled in one area as being something other than it appears, it is difficult to stop the domino effect. Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) portrayed a peculiar reaction to Freud’s psychoanalysis when he stated that Freud had introduced a “new myth”. According to his conversation with Rush Rhees, Wittgenstein asserted that psychoanalysis would be likely to do harm “Because although one may discover in the course of it various things about oneself, one must have a very strong and keen and persistent criticism in order to recognize and see through the mythology that is offered or imposed on one. There is an inducement to say, ‘yes, of course, it must be like that.’ A powerful mythology.” A critical issue is that how far Freud’s psychoanalysis can lay claim to truth – when it is itself a product of human rationality, which he has led us to be suspicious of.
§4. Psychoanalysis and Philosophy
Characteristically, psychoanalysis, as a science of the human mind, shares with philosophy a common territory, which has made psychoanalysis vulnerable to numerous attacks from the scientific front. Akin to Quantum Field Theory, psychoanalysis has kept one foot in science and the other in philosophy because its various theories cannot be tested in a strictly scientific manner. Of course, philosophy has had its own pre-Freudian developments in regard to the phenomena of the unconscious and consciousness. The following is a brief historical description of the evolution of the philosophical conception of the unconscious and consciousness, which paved the way for Freud’s psychoanalysis.
§5. Plato (c. 427-c. 347 B.C.)
Ancient Greek philosopher Plato propounds a theory known as the “tripartite soul”, which is expressive of three functions or capacities of the human soul: “reason”, “the spirited element”, and “appetites” (or “passions”). For Plato, these three faculties fall into a natural hierarchy, in which reason (the rational element of the soul) has primacy over and ought to direct the spirited element (which occupies the intermediate level) and the bodily appetites (the non-rational element of the soul that occupies the lowest level). Plato construes this hierarchical structure as an organism whose constituent parts, functioning harmoniously together under the guidance of reason, serve the whole soul. A malfunction of one part would jeopardize the well-being of the whole. Plato is keenly aware of the conflicts between reason and the appetites. According to his Republic, while the appetites non-reflectively drive a person toward immediate gratification of her or his irrational desires, reason acts as an “inhibiting principle”. And, it is the spirited element (consisting of emotional drives such as anger, ambition, courage, pride, and aggression) that is to mediate between reason and the appetites in an attempt to resolve the conflict.
In contrast to Plato’s tripartite theory of soul, Freud’s tripartite structural model of the psyche is comprised of the “id” (tantamount to Plato’s concept of “appetites”), the “ego” (partly comparative to Plato’s concept of “reason” and partly to “the spirited element”), and the “super-ego” or “ego ideal” (in part comparative to Plato’s concept of “reason”). Freud describes the id as a purely unconscious impetus, expressive of the sexual, aggressive, and self-preserving instincts. The super-ego, partly conscious and partly unconscious, is a psychic function indicative of reason in terms of conscience, which regulates and/or restrains the instinctual urges. And, the ego (as an extension of the id), partly conscious and partly unconscious, is an organic dynamism significative of reason in terms of intelligence, which mediates between the id’s demands for immediate gratification of its instinctual urges and the disciplinary super-ego’s restrictions upon them. Furthermore, the ego, under the watchful eyes of the super-ego, functions to bring about an equilibrium between the impulsive urges and the external physical and social reality. In a sense, the ego is the executive while the super-ego is the legislative and the judiciary. Also, generally speaking, the id (Latin for “it”) is associated with the pleasure-pain principle, the ego (Latin for “I”) is correlated with the reality principle, and the super-ego (over-I) is identified with the ideal principle.
§6. René Descartes (1596-1650)
While Plato’s philosophy in its orientation and function is a form of “idealism”, René Descartes’ philosophy is a type of “materialism” – which became the dominant paradigm of modernity, shaping its socio-economico-political institutions all the way to the present time. In general, materialism, associated with the mechanical world view, is a metaphysical theory which holds that ultimate reality is matter, and that all seemingly nonmaterial things such as minds and thoughts are reducible to the motions of particles of matter. In contrast, idealism holds that ultimate reality is mental and that seemingly non-mental things, such as material objects, are reducible to the ideas of mind or consciousness. In general, the philosophies of Thomas Hobbes, Sir Isaac Newton (in his mechanistic causal view of the universe), John Locke, David Hume, and Karl Marx are materialistically oriented, while the philosophies of Immanuel Kant, G.W.F. Hegel, Arthur Schopenhauer, and Søren Kierkegaard are conversant with idealism. The materialism of philosophy of René Descartes is a foundation upon which Freud’s psychoanalysis is based in principle. As a result, Freud would ascribe various aspects of mental disorder to a mechanical sequence of causes and effects, which can be traced back all the way to childhood.
Descartes argues that whatever is not rational (i.e., “thinking substance”) is nothing but matter in motion devoid of consciousness. Descartes’ theory of the physical universe is known as “mechanism”, which is the theory that the mechanical motion of material substances can explain all of nature, including the human body. In his mechanistic model of reality, the world is infinite in extension, with bodies of all shapes and sizes that are perpetually in a state of motion and change. Descartes attributed all motion of bodies to mechanical impact, like the mechanical motion of billiard balls. For him, the universe is entirely mechanical, from the celestial motion of the planets to all organic and inorganic matter. To Descartes, and many of us, this is the physical universe: a mechanical system of bodies in motion according to the causal laws of physics. The physical world consists of bodies (of various geometrical sizes and shapes, colorless, soundless, smell-less, tasteless, and without texture) that move on impact with one another in purposeless, mechanical motion in a clockwork universe. This model of reality inspired both Newton’s classical physics and Freud’s analytical psychology.
The following are some of the reflections of Descartes in respect to the dynamics of non-conscious bodily impulses and conscious thoughts:
“There is nothing [no physical thing] in us which we ought to attribute to our soul, other than our thoughts, which are principally of two types: some are the actions of the soul, others are passions.” (From Descartes’ The Passions of the Soul)
“To be conscious is assuredly to think and to reflect upon one’s thought, . . . the soul can think many things at the same time, persevering in its thought, and reflecting upon its thoughts whenever it wishes, to be therefore conscious of its thought.” (From Descartes’ conversation with Burman)
“There is nothing completely in our power other than our thoughts.” (From Descartes’ Discourse on the Method)
“The utility of all the passions [bodily impulses] consists only in the fact that they dispose the soul to wish the things which nature tells us to be useful, and to persist in that wish.” (From Descartes’ The Passions of the Soul)
“All the movements of our [bodily] members which accompany our passions . . . are produced . . . not by our soul, but solely by the mechanisms of our body.” (From Descartes’ letter of Apr. 15, 1649 to Henry More)
“As for the movement of passions, even though they are accompanied by our thought, . . . it is nevertheless very evident that they do not depend upon it [our thought], because they often occur in spite of us.” (From Descartes’ letter of Nov. 23, 1646 to Marquess of Newcastle)
“Love, hate, fear, anger, etc. . . . are . . . passions of the soul; that is, insofar as these are confused thoughts which the soul does not have of itself, but from the fact that it [the soul] is tightly united to the body, and thus receives the impression of the movements which take place in it; for there is a great difference between these passions and the knowledge or distinct thoughts which we have of what is loved, or hated, or feared, etc. . . .” (From Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy)
“The true use of our reason for the conduct of our life consists only in examining and considering without passion the value of all the perfections, those of body as well as those of the mind. . . .” (From Descartes’ letter of Sep. 1, 1645 to Princess Elizabeth of Bohemia)
§7. David Hume (1711-1776)
In sharp opposition to Plato’s and Descartes’ rationalism, the empiricist philosopher David Hume, with great boldness, states in his A Treatise of Human Nature: “We speak not strictly and philosophically when we talk of the combat of passion and of reason. Reason is, and ought only to be, the slave of the passions, and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them.” (Italics added.) For him, reason – in serving the passions – merely directs us to recognize “relations” between things while our passions prompt us to take action based on the knowledge of the relations. Reason is the “slave of the passions” inasmuch as it is not able to determine our ends for us, but can only show us how to accomplish what we already desire.
Hume’s empiricism holds that human knowledge is procured through “sense experience”, and that reason by itself cannot tell us what must be the case. For Hume, as for Freud, the dynamism of human life comes from our instinctual life. Reason can control, but can never dominate human passions. Hume insists that reason cannot pass from what is the case to what ought to be the case. Unlike Immanuel Kant, he even claimed that morality is not established by reason. Whether we are virtuous or vicious springs form our human nature, not reason. Morality, for him, is not something imposed on or demanded of humans, but is the outcome of a basic trait of human character. According to Hume, morality does not merely need to take account of human nature – morality is an expression of human nature.
Hume treats the behavior of physical objects and human actions in the same manner, meaning that he attributes the same kind of causal necessity to human action as to the effect of one billiard ball striking another. Moreover, he puts the emphasis on the operation of the human mind, not on the way things are outside of the mind. In other words, he is more concerned with how the mind perceives than whether what is perceived is real or not. In fact, in his A Treatise of Human Nature, he persists, “[T]he science of man is the only foundation for the other sciences. . . .”
§8. Immanuel Kant (1724-1804)
In his famous essay entitled “What is Enlightenment?”, German philosopher Immanuel Kant sums up the essence of the Enlightenment as follows: “Enlightenment is man’s emergence from his self-incurred immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one’s own understanding without the guidance of another. This immaturity is self-incurred if its cause is not lack of understanding, but lack of resolution and the courage to use it without the guidance of another. The motto of Enlightenment is therefore: Sapere aude! [Dare to know!] Have courage to use your own reason!” Kant is adamant in persevering, without any reservations, that roles of reason and, hence, consciousness should be paramount in our daily lives. He continues, “If it is asked whether we at present live in an enlightened age, the answer is: No, but we do live in an age of enlightenment. As things are at present, we still have a long way to go before men as a whole can be in a position (or can even be put into a position) of using their own understanding confidently and well. . . .” This account is expressive of the age that was only at the commencement of becoming enlightened. Indeed, the Enlightenment was an age of transition, marked by the advance of freedom, which Kant deems as the necessary condition for daring to reason for oneself. Hence, besides reason, the idea of human freedom, which Kant affirmed, is fundamental and central in his philosophy. But what does freedom mean?
Kant repudiates that human freedom can be proven by way of theories or logic. We do not assert our freedom by thinking and conceptualizing it, but by acting. Conceptual analysis, for Kant, is of no avail in the sphere of human freedom, for it is not a theoretical problem – but a practical or moral issue. Kant recognizes two types of reason: “theoretical reason” (as applied in theoretical disciplines such as metaphysics and science) and “practical reason” (as applied in practical fields such as ethics and human conduct). Although his thoughts on theoretical reason are quite profound and consequential in the history of the Western civilization, he ardently emphasizes the role of practical reason in our daily lives. Kant insists that to choose to exist as a free human being is the utmost act of “self-respect” (not “self-love”), as it is the most fundamental ethical choice attainable to us, and all moral choices spring therefrom. Kant, in opposition to Hume, disallows moral principles to be based on personal human interests, not even on the interest in happiness. For him, all interests are indicative of human desires (or “inclinations” as he calls them), not reason. Human desires, does not matter how noble, express what Kant calls “self-love”, of which human happiness is the highest expression. Nevertheless, from his perspective, morality is about self-respect, not self-love. Hence, he concluds that there are always imminent conflicts between human desires and reason. Occasionally, reason (in form of morality) and happiness (as the most respectable form of self-love) can be concentric; nonetheless, they are not identical. Conversely, mandates of morality and happiness can run into conflicts.
Kant maintains that reason is, or should be, at the center of human life; the ultimate purpose of humanity is to realize its rational nature. That humans are rational means that they have purposes or ends. Hence, in his, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, he writes, “Rational nature is distinguished from others in that it poses an end to itself.” In other words, human beings are the embodiment of reason as the force which fulfills their ends. Kant continues, “[A]s an end in himself, man is destined to be legislative in the realm of ends, free from all laws of nature and obedient only to those which he gives to himself. His universal maxims [i.e., moral principles] belong to a legislation to which he is at the same time subject.” Human reason informs our humanity and amplifies us beyond the animals. In absence of freedom to reason, we are denied the power of choice.
§9. G.W.F. Hegel (1770-1831)
In his enigmatic book Phenomenology of Spirit (which almost reads like an epic poem such as that of Homer’s Odyssey), German Philosopher G.W.F. Hegel discloses that what is immanently present but latent or unconscious in the world history is the “Spirit” or the “Absolute”. The Absolute, in a very general sense, is an all-encompassing, unitary, organic, and developmental process or principle that organizes all diversity of the phenomenal world into a rational unity. In his book, Hegel relates that this unity-within-diversity principle strives toward freedom. The world history is the process of the Absolute unfolding itself unto itself, whereby the Spirit manifests to finite human beings their own freedom. For Hegel, history seems to be the progressive evolution of human civilization in the consciousness of its own freedom.
The Absolute, operating through human history, externalizes human freedom by deployment of two factors: “reason” and “passion”. Being cognizant that humans’ personal goals and satisfaction of their self-serving appetencies are the nascence of human actions, Hegel maintains that passion – not rationality – is what motivates human actions. In his Lectures on the Philosophy of History of 1832, he claims, “[W]e may affirm absolutely that nothing great in the World has been accomplished without passion.” Therefore, the Absolute – through reason – cons individuals into realizing its own end of freedom. By exploiting the human wills, the Absolute effectuates its own will through reason. Hegel refers to this phenomenon as the “cunning of reason”, which employs the prodigious momentum of human desires as means to its end of freedom – not necessarily for individuals, but for the nation-states. For instance, Napoleon Bonaparte’s lust for political power and conquest actually served the cunning of reason by passing on the new freedoms of the French Enlightenment to the nations he conquered. Consequently, such nations adopted liberalized laws, improved educational systems, and brought an end to the serfdom.
§10. Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)
Arthur Schopenhauer, in his major work The World as Will and Representation, offers an account of the human psyche that is on a par with the general posture of Freud’s psychoanalysis. According to Schopenhauer, our true motives for our thoughts, decisions, and actions are often veiled from our conscious awareness. He relates that many philosophers traditionally were of the conviction that we know precisely what we want and desire. However, Schopenhauer conceives of human desires as merely the tip of an iceberg, whose full presence is submerged beneath the surface of consciousness. He holds that we commonly rationalize many of our choices and actions by ascribing them to motives that often mask, rather than unmask, the true impulses that set us in motion. He writes:
“We often do not know what we desire or fear. For years we can have a desire without admitting it to ourselves or even letting it come to clear consciousness, because the intellect is not to know anything about it, since the good opinion we have of ourselves would inevitably suffer thereby. But if the wish is fulfilled, we get to know from our joy, not without a feeling of shame, that this is what we desired; for example, the death of a near relation whose heir we are. Sometimes we do not know what we really fear, because we lack the courage to bring it to clear consciousness. In fact, we are often entirely mistaken as to the real motive from which we do or omit to do something, till finally some accident discloses the secret to us and we know that our real motive was not what we thought it as being, but some other that we were unwilling to admit to ourselves, because it was by no means in keeping with our good opinion of ourselves. For example, as we imagine we omit to do something for purely moral reasons; yet we learn subsequently that we were deterred merely by fear, since we do it as soon as all danger is removed.”
Freud describes such behavioral phenomena by applying his psychoanalytical concepts of the id, ego, and super-ego, confirming the subconscious forces conjuring below the surface of consciousness. Schopenhauer, prior to Freud, had already enacted similar conceptual distinction with his concepts of the “will” (blind primal unity, which admits of comparison to the Kantian “noumenon” and “thing-in-itself”) and “representation” (the objectification of the unity, which is on an equal footing with the Kantian “phenomenon”). Representations are the appearances of common and ordinary experiences while the will is the hidden reality underlying the appearances. Schopenhauer interprets the will as the controlling impetus within us, whereas philosophers conventionally had made reason the dominant factor. He gives primacy to the will above reason, for he construes the mind as an instrument serving the will. According to both Schopenhauer and Freud, we must penetrate beneath the surface of the mind to truly understand ourselves. “Consciousness is the mere surface of our mind”, Schopenhauer argues, “and of this, as of the globe, we do not know the interior, but only the crust.”
§11. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)
Friedrich Nietzsche, known as the “psychologizing philosopher”, of whom Freud was fond, offers a novel analysis of consciousness and reason. He harshly criticizes those philosophers and theologians who fancy human consciousness to be divinely supreme and inherently valuable:
“In relation to the vastness and multiplicity of . . . the life of every organism, the conscious world of feelings, intentions, and valuations is a small section. We have no right whatever to posit this piece of consciousness as the aim and wherefore of this total phenomenon of life: becoming conscious is obviously only one more means toward the unfolding and extension of the power of life. Therefore it is a piece of naiveté to posit pleasure or spirituality or morality or any other particular of the sphere of consciousness as the highest value – and perhaps even to justify ‘the world’ by means of this. . . . The fundamental mistake is simply that, instead of understanding consciousness as a tool and particular aspect of the total life, we posit it as the standard and the condition of life that is of supreme value. . . .”
According to Nietzsche, it is a grave error, as it has been committed by many philosophers, to think that human reason or consciousness is of a different origin and separate from our biology and the natural world. In his Will to Power, Nietzsche admonishes, “Through the long succession of millennia, man has not known himself physiologically: he does not know himself even today. To know, e.g., that one has a nervous system (– but no ‘soul’ –) is still the privilege of the best informed.” Nietzsche insists that we can properly comprehend ourselves by initially translating ourselves “back into nature” amongst the animals and then back into society – to both of which we owe the structure of our instinctual and conscious life. To convey the presumptuousness of elevating human consciousness over and beyond the natural world, Nietzsche shares with us a parable:
“In some remote corner of the universe, . . . there once was a star on which clever animals invented knowledge. That was the haughtiest and most mendacious minute of ‘world history’ – yet only a minute. After nature had drawn a few breaths the star grew cold, and the clever animals had to die.
One might invent such a fable and still not have illustrated sufficiently how wretched, how shadowy and flighty, how aimless and arbitrary, the human intellect appears in nature. There have been eternities when it did not exist; and when it is done for again, nothing will have [changed]. For this intellect has no further mission that would lead beyond human life. It is human, rather, and only its owner and producer give it such importance, as if the world pivoted it. . . .
The intellect, as a means for the preservation of the individual, unfolds its chief powers in [deception]; for this is the means by which the weaker, less robust individuals preserve themselves, since they are denied the chance of waging the struggle for existence with horns or the fangs of beasts of prey.”
As Nietzsche points out, human consciousness or reason is a recent invention in the history of evolutionary biology: “There have been eternities when it did not exist.” From the scientific viewpoint, the Homo sapiens (Latin for “wise man”) have thus far occupied this minuscule corner of the galaxy only since about 200,000 years ago in the entire more or less 14,000,000-year history of the universe. Nietzsche peculiarly expresses that human consciousness is relatively a weak organ of knowledge – still, as it were, in an experimental stage! Consciousness does not possess the infallibility of human instincts; it is still plagued with many doubts and hesitations that are unknown to human impulses. In this, as it were, experiment of nature, whose results are still in doubt, our social way of living has become an alternative to a purely impulsive mode of life. Both Nietzsche and Freud argue that our social conditions have compelled us to rely more on our conscious thinking rather than our instincts. In a sense, to supplant the instincts, our social circumstances have caused a collapse of our instinct-structure. It is under these conditions, according to Nietzsche, that human consciousness and reason transpired. Further, it is in this regard that Nietzsche, in his On the Genealogy of Morals, refers to man as a “sick animal”:
“Where does it come from, this sickliness? For man is more sick, uncertain, changeable, indeterminate than any other animal, there is no doubt of that – he is the sick animal: how has that come about? Certainly he has also dared more, done more new things, braved more and challenged far more than all the other animals put together: he, the great experimenter with himself, discontented and insatiable, wrestling with animals, nature, and gods for ultimate dominion. . . . [H]ow should such a courageous and richly endowed animal not also be the most imperiled, the most chronically and profoundly sick of all sick animals?”
“Man was bound to contract [this illness] under the stress of the most fundamental change he ever experienced – that change which occurred when he found himself finally enclosed within the walls of society and of peace. The situation that faced sea animals when they were compelled to become land animals or perish was the same as that which faced these semi-animals, well adapted to the wilderness, to war, to prowling, to adventure: suddenly all their instincts were disvalued and ‘suspended.’ . . . [I]n this new world they no longer possessed their former guides, their regulating, unconscious and infallible drives: they were reduced to thinking, inferring, reckoning, co-ordinating cause and effect, these unfortunate creatures; they were reduced to their ‘consciousness,’ their weakest and most fallible organ! . . . [A]t the same time the old instincts had not suddenly ceased to make their usual demands! Only it was hardly or rarely possible to humor them: as a rule they had to seek new and, as it were, subterranean gratifications.
All instincts that do not discharge themselves outwardly turn inward – this is what I call the internalization of man: thus it was that man first developed what was later called his ‘soul.’ The entire inner world, originally as thin as if it were stretched between two membranes, expanded and extended itself, acquired depth, breadth, and height, in the same measure as outward discharge was inhibited. Those fearful bulwarks with which the political organization protected itself against the old instincts of freedom – punishments belong among these bulwarks – brought about that all those instincts of wild, free, prowling man turned backward against man himself. . . . [T]hus began the gravest and uncanniest illness, from which humanity has not yet recovered, man’s suffering of man, of himself – the result of a forcible sundering from his animal past, as it were a leap and plunge into new surroundings and conditions of existence, a declaration of war against the old instincts upon which his strength, joy, and terribleness had rested hitherto.”
However, Nietzsche is absolutely not suggesting that man should go back to the cave of primal existence – for man has transformed her or himself beyond mere biological necessities. Human life has procured social and psychological dimensions that can set the stage for a higher development of the “organic”. Although Nietzsche, in his Will to Power, asserts that “the body is a more astonishing idea than the old ‘soul’”, he also claims that, “It is a history of the development of a higher body that emerges into our sensibility. The organic is rising to yet higher levels” – i.e., “the entire evolution of the spirit.”
Freud compared his discovery of the unconscious to the greatest archaeological discoveries of his time. Heinrich Schliemann had found and excavated Troy, and Arthur Evans had unearthed the Labyrinth at Knossos. Their discoveries attracted the world’s attention. While Freud excavated no archaeological sights, he seems to have wanted to be recognized for his excavation of the human mind. As a Jew, Freud was an outsider in the scientific establishment. Schliemann was the very image of what Freud wanted to be. When his monumental book, The Interpretation of Dreams, was published at the turn of the 20th century (which was actually published in November of 1899, but post-dated to 1900 by the publisher!), its epigraph was from Virgil’s Aeneid in the Latin of the classically educated elite: “Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo.” (“Since I cannot move the gods above, I shall move the gods below.”). Indeed, he did! After Freud, human nature and reason are not looked upon the same manner anymore.
For further exploration of this article, I invited you to read my previous posts as follows:
(Dear reader, please feel free to make a critique of this article. I look forward to learning from you!)