Philosophy of the Unconscious

by Eduard Von Hartmann

  The fundamental question would be this: “Can reflection and knowledge determine action and character, and in what manner?” The affirmative answer, with which common sense would not be backward, might be placed in doubt through the consideration, firstly, that the specific will, from which action proceeds, springs from a reaction of the character on motive, a process which remains for ever closed to consciousness; and secondly, that volition and ideation are incommensurable things, because they belong to quite different spheres of mental activity. Their heterogeneity and incommensurability are however limited by this circumstance, that an idea forms the content of the will, and an idea its motive or exciting cause, and the eternal unconsciousness of the process engendering the will would only make any knowledge of the connection of motive and desire entirely impossible, if either character were in itself quickly alterable, or there were no necessary uniformity in the process of motivation, but a freedom of the will in the sense of the Indeterminists. As neither condition obtains, the possibility is open to every one, like the physician with those drugs, whose physiological effect is incomprehensible to him, to collect an empirical knowledge of what desire is called forth by what motive and in what degree. So far as human characters resemble each other in general, this cognition will be general empirical psychology, but so far as characters are different, it will be special knowledge of self and man (Science of Character). If we combine with this the knowledge of those psychological laws according to which the excitability of the different kinds of desires is temporarily changed, as, e.g., the laws of our moods, of passion, of habit, &c., and if we secure ourselves in the manner shortly to be considered from the illusions of the intellect, that are produced by passions, then if all these conditions are ideally satisfied, we shall be able to predict any moment the kind and degree of the resulting desire in respect of any motive, and the errors regarding the issue of the unconscious will-producing process mentioned in Chapters III. and IV. will disappear of themselves.

  Now as every motive can only take the form of the Idea, and the revival of ideas is subject to the influence of the conscious will, by voluntarily calling up an idea known as motive of a certain desire, there follows from what has been said the possibility of indirectly arousing this desire. Further, as the will is nothing but the resultant of all contemporaneous desires, and as the union of all the components into the one resultant has the simple form of an algebraic sum, because indeed all the components in respect of a future action can have only two directions, positive or negative, there follows further the possibility of influencing the resultant by arousing one or more new desires through a voluntary representation of the appropriate motives, or by strengthening those already present. The same means is also available for suppressing such desires as would certainly not so soon attain to manifestation in action on external grounds, but which act prejudicially through disturbance of the mind, confusion of the intellect, production of useless feelings of pain, &c. But conscious reflection can never influence a present desire directly, but only mediately, by arousing an opposite one.—That this stated mode of influencing the will through the intellect is in fact the only possible one, and that which always occurs in practice, will readily be granted by everybody who makes this department of psychology a little the subject of his reflection. This, as well as the circumstance that the subject is somewhat wide of our proper theme, deters me from further discussing it. I will merely further add, that only from this point of view can a change of character through conscious reflection be explained. We have, namely, seen the possibility of determining the issue in every single case otherwise than by merely leaving it to the action of the motives spontaneously presenting themselves, and thereby the possibility of successfully making head against the emotions which are most easily excited in consequence of the now formed character, and therefore most frequently arise. If now this suppression regularly occurs on every occasion for a longer time, according to the law of habit, by the persistent inactivity and non-satisfaction of the particular impulse, its liability to stimulation will be enfeebled; while, on the other hand, the frequently and strongly excited tendencies will be strengthened, i.e., the character will be changed. In the same manner the possibility of a change of character by means of conscious reflection, certainly only with the help of long habit, becomes intelligible (comp. Phil. Monatshette, vol. iv. Hft. 5, on Bahnsen’s Ethology).

  The above fundamental question is herewith answered in the affirmative in both its parts, and we can now take a brief survey of what conscious reflection and knowledge have to offer to man as regards practice.

  1. Prevention of illusions of knowledge due to influence of emotions.—We have already seen how the emergence of ideas is essentially dependent on a momentary interest. Hence it happens that, with a predominant one-sided interest, e.g., emotions, probable reasons for the case in accordance with the interest always preferentially enter into consciousness, and fewer contrary reasons; that seeming reasons pro are too readily assumed to be perceived to be faulty; but that seeming reasons contra, if they at all crop up, are immediately unmasked, and even good reasons contra depreciated or refuted by seeming reasons, and thus error arises. No wonder, therefore, that terror, anger, sensuous desire can so deprive us of our wits that we no longer know what we say or do, that hate causes us to see only faults in our enemies; love, merely excellences in our loved ones; that fear paints in gloomy, hope in rosy hues; that the former allows us often no longer to perceive obvious resources, the latter makes the most improbable probable, if it only corresponds to our wishes, that we mostly err to our own advantage, rarely to our disadvantage, and only too frequently hold that to be fit and just which is to our own advantage.

  Interest even insinuates itself into pure science, for a favourite hypothesis sharpens the glance for everything confirmative, and causes us to overlook the plainest counter-evidence, or to let go out at one ear what comes in at the other.

  There are two remedies for this: the first is, that one form once for all an empirical coefficient of reduction dependent on the degree of the passion or interest, and multiply this in any single case by the acquired coefficient of probability of the judgment; the second, that one allows no passion to attain the degree where it begins to perceptibly affect the judgment. The latter means will alone stand the test, but is not a general favourite, because inconvenient, and only attainable by long practice in self-command; the former entirely fails in the case of strong emotions and passions, when all the mental powers are concentrated on a single point; moreover the magnitude of the coefficient of reduction is often difficult to fix, the actual estimate of the degree of personal passion still more difficult.—The value of intellectual clearness (σωφρoσύvη) is pretty obvious in a verbal dispute, where the one allows himself to be carried away by passion, and not the other. Among women almost every real dispute passes into a personal one, whether clothed in the most delicate irony or in the choicest Billingsgate. Still more conspicuous is the value of sobriety and restraint of emotions in cases of peril.

  2. Prevention of thoughtlessness and irresolution.—The largest part of all the remorse in the world arises from inconsiderate action, in which the possible consequences of the deed in all its bearings were not considered, the result being painful surprise on their appearance. If the evil consequences fall back upon the doer himself, inconsiderateness becomes levity. All this remorse would accordingly be spared by more deliberation in action. Irresolution on the other hand proceeds partly from want of courage, partly from want of confidence in one’s own reflective powers. The characteristic of courage may, however, be supplied by conscious reason, since courage is risking one evil to avoid another, or to gain an advantage, on the supposition that the chances are favourable to the attempt, whether in consequence of the relative magnitude of the two evils or the probabilities of their occurrence. Want of confidence in one’s own reflective powers is likewise corrected by reflection itself, when we say to ourselves that no one can do more th
an is in his power; that therefore if he have done the utmost, he may calmly await the result of the action, but that too long reflection as a rule not merely helps no more than a brief reflection, but by delaying action, does more harm than any possible improvement of the result can bring advantage.

  3. Appropriate selection of means to end.—If an aim is irrational, it is itself an inappropriate means to the main aim of every being, the greatest possible sum of happiness in life, which, if not clearly conscious to every one, yet as faintly sounding organ-point is heard in all the chords of life. But even where the ends are rational, or their choice and estimation does not devolve upon the individual, but only the choice of the means is entirely or partially left to him, by irrational selection of the means unspeakable evil is wrought, which can never be made good again. In important cases this is sufficiently striking; but far greater is the influence in the thousand petty cares, drudgeries, comforts and discomforts, pleasantnesses and unpleasantnesses of the day, in the intercourse of business, office, vocation, society, family life, the relationship of master and servant. It is especially in these cases, where the immediate ends are partly frustrated by improper means, partly attained at a disproportionate expense, and where accordingly people make the life of themselves and others far more difficult and bitter than it already is, by all kinds of distress, torment, trouble, vexation, and spite. And far more of all this comes from the limited insight of the average man and his unsuitable choice of means to the end in view, than from evil will, so that one is often tempted to exclaim, “Would that people were more wicked, if they were only less stupid!”

  4. The determination of the will not according to the passion of the moment, but according to the principle of the greatest possible personal happiness.—The brute, with the few exceptions of the higher animals trained by man, is essentially dependent on the momentary sensuous and instinctively aroused emotion. Where instinct does not involve a reference to the future, the consciousness of the animal also does not easily concern itself therewith, and only too often must it suffer from the consequences of its absolute levity. Man, through his more highly-developed consciousness, enjoys the privilege of being able to oppose to the passions of the sensuous moment desires, which are voluntarily produced by representations of the future, and has therein a means of securing for the Ego of the future an ideal equality with the Ego of the present. But now, owing to the less vivid character of voluntary ideas, the strength of the opposing desires is considerably circumscribed, and they are no longer able to offer a successful resistance to a tolerably strong emotion begotten by the sensuous present. Such an emotion rather hurries the man back to the stage of animality, and if he re-emerge from it with moderate loss and repentance, he may thank his lucky stars. If, then, the claim of the future Ego, and the principle of the greatest possible personal happiness, is to be preserved, there is nothing for it but to prevent the growth of the passions to so overpowering a degree, i.e., to suppress them earlier, most surely and most easily in their origin. Here we have found the second reason for suppressing the emotions. An important office of reflection further is, to decide which of the many simultaneous aims of life that run athwart one another at any moment deserves to be supported, in order at any moment to contribute as much as possible to the total happiness; for the continually changing circumstances also require that we continually change, sometimes entirely let go, sometimes resume at a more favourable time, the aims for whose attainment one happens to be labouring.

  5. Value of conscious reason for morality.—Most immoral actions are completely prevented by a prudent egoism, which proceeds according to the principle of the greatest possible personal happiness, especially in a State with an orderly system of law, and a society which punishes with its contempt such immoralities as the State cannot punish. That not many cases remain in which the ordinances of morality cannot be established in an egoistic manner is sufficiently proved by this, that so many ethical systems are openly or disguisedly based on egoism and the principle of the greatest possible personal happiness, e.g., the Epicurean, the Stoic, the Spinozistic. For all such cases one sees that the exercise of reason hitherto spoken of must suffice for morality, and in point of fact, along with custom brought about by compulsion, this reference to egoism is almost the only successful way to teach and to improve morality. What is not attained by it is hardly at all attainable from the point of view of individual ethics.

  If one, however, disregards the practically vital effect of a rule of conduct, and contemplates the theoretical value of the ethical systems, there will hardly be any doubt that, whatever theoretical foundations of ethics be assumed, they can only be such as consist of principles of conscious reason, if they possess any scientific ground whatsoever, and are to be capable of supporting a system. I shall not, however, say more on this point now, in order not to wander too far from our theme.

  6. Correct choice of a calling, occupation of leisure, intercourse, and friends.—“Whoever is born with a talent, finds therein his fairest existence” (Göthe), therefore it is very important, on the one hand, to recognise one’s talent, which may be very considerable and yet be entirely missed; and, on the other hand, in youthful enthusiasm for an object, not to imagine a talent which one does not possess. Were both cases not frequent, so many men would not miss their vocation, the choice of which, in spite of all limitations, affords the individual tolerably wide scope. Still more difficult is it to detect the chief among several talents; more easy, on the other hand, to make the equally important choice of the dilettante occupation of leisure, because so much does not depend on alternation, and time is thereby gained for experimenting. As the choice of a calling requires a large self-knowledge, so the choice of intercourse and of friends requires a large knowledge of the world and of men. This is a human need; and one has not to choose whether, but with whom one will associate. The importance of the matter may be imagined when we consider how the possession of a single, entirely congenial and true friend is able to afford consolation in the greatest misfortunes, but what bitter disappointments may be prepared by the choice of unsuitable friends. Nevertheless one often sees friendships concluded and persisted in for a long time, which are so little harmonious that one would think the people must be smitten with blindness. In fact, however, did not human beings, in their heart of hearts, actually regard themselves as as unreasonable as they are, it would not be possible for reconciliations so commonly to take place after occurrences which, referred to faults of character, could never be forgiven, and are only to be excused by unreason, wherefore men are fond of designating their mad pranks aberrations.—The imprudent choice of a friend is most bitterly avenged in marriage, because here the loosening of the relations is supremely difficult; and yet this is a case where regard is paid to almost anything else (beauty, money, family) than to harmony of character. Were people not afterwards so intellectually indifferent about fitting well or ill, when they see that they have been mistaken in each other, there would be many more bad marriages in the world than there are.

  7. Suppression of useless feelings of pain.—Pleasure and pain consist in satisfaction and non-satisfaction of desire, which are produced by converse with the outer world, and which man can only influence by reacting on the external circumstances, which is the end of all action. If his power does not extend so far as to procure the satisfaction of his desires, he must just boar the pain, and can then only diminish or annihilate it by diminishing or annihilating the desire, in the non-satisfaction of which the pain consists. If one consistently carries this out in the case of every pain, the exciting capacity of the desires is blunted in accordance with the law of habit, consequently the future feelings of pleasure are as much diminished as the future feelings of pain. Whoever is of my opinion, that on the average in human life the sum of the painful feelings far outweighs the sum of the pleasurable feelings, must perforce admit this general principle of hebetation as logical consequence of this view. But whoever does not at all or only in a
qualified sense assent to this opinion, I refer to the not inconsiderable number of those painful feelings which are opposed to no feeling of pleasure at all, i. e., in which the satisfaction of the underlying desire lies outside the domain of possibility, as e.g., in pain for past events which cannot happen over again, vexation, impatience, envy, spite, remorse, which can bring no moral profit, further excessive sensibility, groundless jealousy, immoderate anxiety and care for the future, too lofty expectations of life, &c. Only consider how much the life of humanity would gain if one could eradicate every one of these foes of the mind’s peace—the advantage would be incalculable; and yet it is open to every one to purify his life from these disturbers of his freedom by the application of conscious reason, if only he does not at once lose heart for the struggle through a few unsuccessful attempts. Thus we have found here a third ground for the suppression of the passions.

  8. The highest and most enduring human enjoyment afforded by the search for truth.—The more concentrated and vehement is an enjoyment, the shorter time can it last, before reaction sets in, and the longer one must wait for its repetition; think of the delights of the table and of the amatory impulse in particular. The calmer, clearer, and purer an enjoyment is, the longer it can endure, the fewer pauses it needs for recreation; compare the musical, poetical and scientific pleasures. Thus it happens, that the strongest enjoyments, on account of the brevity of their duration and their necessary rarity, are not the greatest in amount, that rather the most spiritual, above all the scientific, afford a far larger total of pleasure in the same time by reason of their duration. The other reasons why the enjoyment which lies in striving after truth is the highest, are so well known, that I will spare my readers an enumeration of them. Moreover, no one will doubt that we owe the mass of our science, especially the abundance and elaboration of its material, to conscious reason.