German philosophy

We foresee for Germany, both economically and intellectually, a long period of general depression, which we compared in a previous article to the two centuries following the Thirty Years' War, which threw Germany so far back in the ranks of nations.

No sooner had we written our article than we read the report of a lecture given by a prominent trade unionist who predicted that, on the contrary, "within twenty years, global moral authority will be in Germany's hands!"

Part of the audience protested, shouting, "What about the United States? What about Russia?" The speaker reportedly replied:

"Germany is more developed than the United States because, along with its formidable industry, it has given itself a philosophy."

Ah, that German philosophy, how it has already turned heads!

But, based on the same premises—the economic and moral results of war—we can arrive at diametrically opposed conclusions; just as, on the other hand, we believe that "philosophy"—notably that of Nietzsche—was not insignificant in Germany's defeat, it is important to examine more closely what this famous "German philosophy" consists of and the moral influence it had during the war on the psychology of the masses across the Rhine, as well as on their judgment of other peoples.

First of all, it would be useful to ask, in general, whether we can, in the era in which we live, "give ourselves a philosophy," — of course, a modern philosophy reflecting the knowledge, desires, and ideals of the current generation.

Without straying too far from our goal, we must nevertheless point out that it was relatively easy to have "a philosophy" in the days of Kant, Hegel, Fichte, etc.

With science being relatively undeveloped, it was not too difficult a century ago to create a kind of "science of sciences" and to synthesize human knowledge into a set of general rules, even if it meant judging later, by deduction, specific cases of everyday life or particular sciences, according to the rules of general philosophy.

But here is what happened at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, and what was bound to happen: Armed with their "philosophy," the scholars of the 19th century led us into countless scientific and social errors thanks to their method of solving problems too exclusively by deduction, in the human brain, and not enough by induction, by constantly scrutinizing real life and returning to it each time. these scholars have put forward so many false ideas that, in certain branches of science, it has sometimes been seriously proposed to set aside almost everything that the 19th century brought and to link modern research as closely as possible to that carried out before the illustrious period of "philosophy." and to link modern research as closely as possible to that carried out before the illustrious period of "philosophy." Unfortunately, in this case, we would also have to sacrifice the real achievements of the 19th century!

Before citing a few examples of poor scientific methodology applied under the influence of ancient philosophy, let us note that in the era in which we live, the new sciences, more rigorously based on the inductive and experimental method, have spread across the most diverse fields and that, certainly, they are not yet sufficiently advanced for us to be able to synthesize modern human knowledge by comparison, as the great philosophers of the late 18th and early 19th centuries did for their time. In our opinion, it is therefore either too late or too early today to "give ourselves a philosophy." And the mere fact that the current German generation has allowed itself to be guided by outdated concepts and methods, that the German masses have acted under the influence of a few outdated formulas, cannot be mentioned among the real advantages that the German people had during the war, or that they will have in the future.

* * * *

Let us turn to our examples.

Guided by the philosophy of the great German synthesists, 19th-century scholars developed a whole theory of the customs, habits, beliefs, etc., of semi-civilized peoples. They made the Negro of South Africa, the Indian of America, and the primitive Australian think with the brain of a white man, love, pray, fear, or rejoice like a white man. All this worked wonderfully well and seemed very "scientific," until white travelers, modern scholars, went to live among the semi-civilized peoples and described their customs, their religion, etc. Then it became clear that nothing the "philosophers" had developed could stand up to scrutiny. And that is why, in France, for example, the works of the illustrious Auguste Comte — not to mention second- and third-rate scholars — to an inexperienced student who does not know how to separate the wheat from the chaff.

In economics, scholars such as Marx and Engels, needing to develop their labor theory, according to which labor "incorporated" in commodities is the fundamental measure of their value, easily explained that until the birth of capitalism, the exchange of commodities was carried out directly according to this "law of value." Law of Value." "This applies," said Marx, "to the primitive state, as well as to later states based on slavery and serfdom, and to the corporate organization." (Marx, Volume III, Part 1, French translation, pages 187–188). The classic Adam Smith expressed it in an even more naive form: " Among a people of hunters, if it usually takes twice as much effort to kill a beaver as to kill a deer, a beaver will naturally be exchanged for two deer or will be worth two deer."

However, when modern explorers and ethnographers began to seriously study peoples living in the "primitive state," and under "slavery and serfdom," they soon noticed that among all these peoples, exchange took place on bases quite different from what had been believed. Indeed, in man's primitive struggle against the elements of nature, work, although sometimes regular and systematically regulated (religious taboos, sexual taboos, etc.), does not serve as a measure. And how could it be otherwise, given that at this stage of civilization, there is not even a fixed relationship between work and its product. The vagaries of hunting, the favor or hostility of nature and its unknown forces, the struggle against disease in humans and animals—all these factors exert their influence.

In terms of socialism, the development of today's society into a communist society was explained by Marx and Engels strictly according to Hegel's old formula: thesis, antithesis, synthesis. The dispossession of the former artisans and small farmers of their means of production had been the "negation" of this former individual property based on labor; but this negation will be followed by the "negation of the negation." The capitalists will kill each other, the big ones will eat the small ones, and in a few decades there will be only a limited number of "capital potentates" left, while among the masses of the people "misery, oppression, slavery, degradation, and exploitation will increase."

All we had to do was wait patiently for this inevitable outcome of capitalist society! Unfortunately for Marx's philosophy, the capitalists did not want to continue to compete with each other and began to form formidable cartels and trusts in all the major industries. On the other hand, their capital is increasingly becoming anonymous capital invested in industry by thousands and tens of thousands of small owners who entrust their savings to the bank. The modern capitalist works, as the expression goes, "with other people's money."

If Marx was unable to foresee this real evolution of capitalist society, due to his limited philosophy and unscientific method, he also failed to see that his own battle cry: "Workers of the world, unite!" was in direct opposition to his prediction of the general impoverishment of the masses. For, just as little as the capitalists, the proletarian workers did not want to continue this struggle of all against all from the mid-19th century. They organized groups, labor unions, first locally, then nationally and internationally, and thanks to this organization, they succeeded in considerably improving their material lives. so today they are in a position to compete with employers' unions.

On this point too, as on so many others, Marxist philosophy had misled the masses.

But it may be useful to give another example of poor German philosophy in another field of science. We borrow it from an interesting article written by Mr. E.-F. Gautier in the Revue de Paris on September 15, under the title "Two Algerians." One of these Algerians is Émile Maupas, the biologist, who died in October 1916 after a poor and laborious life.

Around 1889, a comet of singular brilliance appeared in the German scientific sky. Professor Weissmann had developed a whole theory of life, which he presented under the pompous titles: The Immortality of Germ Plasma as the Basis of a Theory of Heredity. — The Importance of Sexual Transmission for the Theory of Selection.

Weissmann had discovered nothing less than the immortality of living matter, which he had observed primarily among protozoa, particularly infusoria.

Lower animals, composed of a single cell, reproduce, he said, by bipartition, like plants by cuttings. Under the microscope, we see a partition appear in the cell, a constriction, which ends in complete separation. Instead of one animal, there are two. Then, each of these small animals starts again and splits in two, and so on.

In this process, there is no longer any place for old age and natural death. After the bipartition, there is no mother, no daughter; there are no ancestors, all are strictly alike and contemporary. Do you want to talk about death? But "where is the corpse?" That was Weissmann's hobbyhorse. Protozoa die by accident.

We humans have preserved the immortality of protozoa in those of our cells that propagate the species and contribute to the formation of the egg. It is therefore all living matter that is essentially immortal.

We can see how easily philosophy leads to general theories: theories of organic life, or social theories, Weissmann or Marx, the power of deduction is of the same caliber.

Unfortunately for Professor Weissmann, the Frenchman Émile Maupas was working in the same direction, but... in a different scientific way. In 1888 and 1889, he published a monograph on infusoria in two long memoirs. There were no arguments or general theories, only facts.

Concentrating under his microscope, in the window—overlooking the sea—of his simple dwelling, the precious light coming from the North, he had, for many years, observed the real life of infusoria. Four or five deep plates, each covered with a glass dome, contained the culture broth on the mantelpiece.

When Maupas' two memoirs appeared, people were surprised by the simplicity of his presentation, a text whose main purpose was to explain numerous illustrations. In these plates, we saw the old infusoria, or "senescent" infusoria, the dying infusoria, in natural agony; and "the corpse," requested by Professor Weissmann. It was accepted that infusoria were not immortal either. Bipartition plays a major role in the reproduction of infusoria, but not the essential role. There always comes a time when the infusoria practice what the text calls "conjugations," which means hymenation of protoplasmic nuclei. And the infusoria species seems to reproduce essentially like ours, although we do not fully understand how.

* * * *

We have allowed ourselves to be carried away by our desire to expose the dangers of the deductive method and the generalization of ancient philosophy in science. Let us now return to war:

In preparing an entire German generation for war of conquest, the role played by Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophy was considerable. Striking phrases such as "Will to Power" (Wille zur Macht) played a role among the German bourgeoisie that was no less important and... disastrous than that currently played in working-class circles by certain Marxist phrases, such as "dictatorship of the proletariat." Germany loves abstraction and grandiose expressions.

Before the war, every high-ranking official, every petty lieutenant in the Guard, believed himself to be a Nietzschean "superman"; and even in social democratic and working-class circles, we could see that in reality the entire German people considered themselves more or less to be a "master race" (Herrenvolk), a kind of new chosen people, designated by nature to subjugate the continent of Europe and the whole world to their domination. From this point of view, too, Germany "had given itself a philosophy."

Then came the war started by the Emperor. Seduced by their "philosophy," the Germans were convinced they could defeat their enemies in two or three months. Who were these enemies? Starting with their main enemy, the Germans believed they were facing the French, a "degenerate people" who were certainly combative, but "lacking in resistance and endurance." The battles on the Marne, in front of Verdun, and on the Yser taught them something else—a little too late!

The fact that they observed poorly, generalized too quickly, and too easily constructed themes based on the needs of their philosophical conceptions of the world and life (Weltanschauung), played tricks on them ; not only with regard to the French, but also to all other peoples with whom they came into conflict.

England "would never agree to fight against the German colossus"; moreover, that country was "too mercantile to take up arms for the benefit of others." Belgium would naturally let the German years pass; moreover, all that was needed was to show one's fists, as the Schutzmann did to the population of a Prussian town, and all Belgians would remain silent. Judging all other peoples by the German model was not the least of the psychological mistakes the Germans made.

At the start of the war, Germany had already lost Italy as an "ally." In just a few months, this former ally had been transformed into an enemy—thanks to what mistakes! Von Bülow, Italy's favorite, had nevertheless personally campaigned in the Apennine Peninsula. He had believed that consciences could be bought in the same way that, on the streets of Berlin, young people who were very practical offered their services, indicating the price: "Five marks, sir!" And Von Bülow was so rude in his bargaining that he ended up turning the entire Italian press against him! In a capitalist society, people buy newspapers and magazines, of course! But there is a difference between buying and buying, and, as the saying goes, it's the tone that makes the music.

Is it necessary to recall all the mistakes made in the United States, Brazil, and the Scandinavian countries? Everywhere, the lack of practical knowledge in psychology has led German diplomats and scholars to judge the situation in other countries too much according to their preconceived formulas and not enough according to empirical methods.

Similarly, when German leaders wanted to inaugurate a new invention of cruelty—asphyxiating gases, "unrestricted submarine warfare," etc.—they were convinced, based on their materialistic philosophy, that any method was acceptable if it produced practical results and that morality was irrelevant in war.

In short, let us no longer be dazzled by German bluff; let us willingly acknowledge all the qualities of the Germans: their taste for work, their spirit of order, organization, and discipline—voluntary discipline, if necessary, as can be seen, for example, in the labor movement, through the support that workers give to the labor press. Let us also admit that German industry will, thanks to these good qualities of the people, play an important role in the future as it has in the past. But let us not close our eyes to the national faults of the Germans: their herd mentality, their lack of individuality and personal initiative.

Above all, let us be wary of "German philosophy"!