Het slot van de bespreking van James Gibson die
ik vijf dagen geleden bracht in mijn 3e blog over Robert
A. Duff, maakte mij nieuwsgierig naar de betreffende tekst. Gibson concludeerde over Spinoza's Political and Ethical Philosophy:
In conclusion, as an illustration of the novelty and
illuminating character of some of Mr. Duff's interpretations, I would draw
attention to his manner of disposing of a difficulty which has proved a
stumbling-block to most of Spinoza's commentators. Having defined cupiditas as appetitus with the consciousness of it, Spinoza proceeds,
"Whether a man is conscious of his appetitus
or not, the appetitus still
remains one and the same."This has, as far as I am aware, been universally
held to imply that there is no essential difference between self-conscious
human desires and blind propensions. Spinoza's meaning, Mr. Duff contends, is
the very opposite of what is supposed. "What Spinoza is contending is not
that there is no difference between appetitus
in general and human desire, but that there is no difference between a
humanum appetitum et cupiditatem." Spinoza's argument is that
consciousness is itself part of that essential difference by which man is
distinguished from other objects, and that all impulses, whether they are
consciously present to the mind or not, are intrinsically different in man from
what they are in anything else, and admit of being thought and willed" (p.
79).
Het gaat om de uitleg die Robert A. Duff brengt in het 7e
hoofdstuk van zijn Spinoza's Political and Ethical Philosophy
[Glasgow: James Maclehose and Sons, The Macmillan Co., New. York, I903, p.76- 92 archive.org].
Daar er nog steeds geworsteld wordt met / gezocht wordt naar
Spinoza’s opvatting m.b.t. bewustzijn, breng ik graag deze beschouwing nader
onder de aandacht. Ook in een volgend blog zal ik nog een hoofdstuk uit zijn
boek brengen. Die beide teksten bijeen geven m.i. een beeld over hoe diepgaand
Duff zich met Spinoza heeft bezig gehouden en hoe hij in staat was diens leer
goed uit te leggen en er soms een verrassend uitzicht op bood. Het lijkt mij ook
in deze tjid nog steeds nuttig van zijn boek kennis te nemen.
CHAPTER VII.
THE ‘CONATUS SESE CONSERVANDI,’ AND THE GOOD.
THE ‘CONATUS SESE CONSERVANDI,’ AND THE GOOD.
SPINOZA accepts it as axiomatic that an individual does,
under all circumstances, seek his own welfare and happiness, or what he
conceives as such. If he ever renounce an apparent good, it can only be in the
hope of thereby securing a greater good, or escaping a greater evil, in the
future. All action, or forbearance from action, is the effort (conatus) of a man to realise himself.
This law holds good of human nature universally, being no less valid of the
saint than of the sinner, and exemplified equally by the altruist and the
egoist. Self-renunciation, instead of
being a virtue, is an impossibility. A man can no more desire what presents
itself to him as, on the whole, the lesser of two goods, or the greater of two
evils, than he can think a river with the properties of a tree. Thus, though
there is a world of difference between the virtuous man and the vicious, the
difference is not that the latter is more self-seeking than the former, or that
he makes greater claims upon the world for satisfaction. Both alike are seeking
what they regard as their happiness.
This impulse toward self-preservation and self-realisation,
Spinoza, following the Stoics and other writers, calls the conatus sese conservandi. It is for him the essence of each thing
and being. Everything strives to maintain itself in existence, and to resist
whatever tends to lessen, or destroy, its being. Thus while each thing is
necessarily part of a whole system, it is also a positive self-affirming unity,
with its own peculiar life and activity. "For although each [77] thing is
determined by another particular thing to exist in a definite way, yet the
force by which each thing continues in existence follows from the eternal
necessity of God s nature " (Part 2, Prop. 45, Schol.). Thus the existence
of a thing cannot be terminated from within, since " each thing
endeavours, as far as in it lies, to persevere in its own being" {Ethics, Part 3, Prop. 6). Whatever
threatens or destroys it, must come from without, as "the power of each
thing, or the conatus by which,
either alone, or along with other things, it does, or endeavours to do,
anything, is nothing save the given or actual essence of the thing itself"
{Ibid., Prop. 7, Dem.). It follows
also that "the conatus by which
each thing endeavours to continue in its own existence involves no definite but
an indefinite time” {Ibid., Prop. 8);
that is to say, the duration of its existence cannot be determined simply by
considering the thing itself, and its own endeavour to maintain itself in
being. To determine this, we must take into account at the same time the
relations in which it stands to the other things which may affect its existence
and its activity.
This general principle Spinoza holds to be embodied in man
no less than in other objects. For he also is constituted an individual by that conatus sese conservandi which, in
each thing, expresses God’s power in a definite and determinate way. But if the
general principle is the same, it is the same with a difference. For the conatus of a thing is just the actual
essence of that thing. And since, as we have already seen, the essence of a man
is different from that of an animal, and still more from that of a stone, so
also must his conatus be. A material
object in motion or at rest expresses its conatus
in suo esse perseverandi by resisting, and reacting upon, whatever would
tend to change its state of motion or rest. A plant, also, has its own way of
asserting itself against an unsuitable environment, and of making the world
subserve the maintenance of its life and growth. So also with an animal, in
which the power of maintaining its existence, and exercising capacities is
immensely greater. And, in the case of man, the conatus, or will-to-live, is of still greater compass. The life
which is open to him is [78] indefinitely richer in content, and more varied in
exercise. His endeavour to realise himself involves powers, intellectual,
moral, social, and religious, which have been bestowed by Nature upon nothing
else. And it deserves to be specially noted that as man consists of a mind as
well as of a body, he differs from other things not only in the nature of the conatus in suo esse perseverandi, but
also in the fact that he alone is conscious
of this self-realising impulse. "The Mind, both in so far as it has clear
and distinct ideas, and in so far as it has confused ones, endeavours to
persist in its own existence with a certain indefinite duration, and is
conscious of this its endeavour" (Part 3, Prop. 9)." All men have an appetitus of seeking their own
advantage, and are conscious thereof
(Part I, App.).
Instead, however, of following up with keenness this idea,
that man has not only a conatus, but
is also conscious of it, Spinoza
seems to take pains to discount it altogether, and to represent consciousness
as an insignificant, or irrelevant, factor in the case. For while Will (voluntas) is defined as the Conatus of the individual’s nature when
it is referred to the Mind alone, and Impulse {Appetitus) as this Conatus when
it is referred at once to the Mind and the Body; Desire (Cupiditas], we are told, is generally referred to men in so far as
they are conscious of their Appetitus, and so should be defined as Appetitus with the consciousness of it (Ethics, Part 3, Prop. 9, Schol.). But
such consciousness does not make any real difference, for "whether a man
is conscious of his appetitus or not,
the appetitus still remains one and
the same" (Ibid., Part 3, App.,
i).
Now the usual interpretation of this language is, that the Conatus which works in man is a blind
unconscious force, a will-to-live which makes use of man as its instrument, and
which he is powerless to resist or to change. Consciousness is but an accident
of its operation, an epi-phenomenon of its activity in a human body. If this
view of Spinoza’s teaching be sound, the essence of this univeral conatus can be learned as well from any
other object as from man. But it may be contended, it seems to me, that not
only is Spinoza’s language susceptible of precisely the opposite
interpretation, [79] but also that such an interpretation alone is compatible
with the leading principles of his philosophy. To take even the passage last
mentioned (Part 3, App., i). What Spinoza is contending is not that there is no
difference between appetitus in
general and human desire, but that there is no difference between a ‘HUMANUM appetitum et Cupiditatem.’ It
would be, he says, a simple tautology to explain cupiditas by appetitus;
for appetitus in man is just cupiditas, it either is or may be
conscious. "Instead of explaining Cupiditas
by appetitus, I preferred to define
it so as to include under it all the conatus
of human nature, which we signify by the name of appetitus, cupiditas, vel
impetus.”
And this definition is (§ I ) that "cupiditas is
the very essence of a man in so far as he is conceived as determined to do
something, from any given affection of him." Without this last clause,
Spinoza says, it would not follow that the Mind can be conscious of its Cupiditas or Appetitus; and so in order to include the cause of this
consciousness it was necessary to add it. "Here therefore I understand by Cupiditas all the conatus, impetus, appetitus, and volitiones, which differ according
to the changing constitution of the same man, and not seldom are so opposed to
one another, that the man is drawn in different directions, and does not know
whither to turn."
The points of this argument seem to me to be (i) that all
human endeavour, or the conatus in suo
esse perseverandi, in so far as it applies to man, is Cupiditas, whether it be called a conatus, an appetitus, a volitio, or an impetus. All the impulses by which man is moved are ultimately of
one kind. And (2) Of every cupiditas a
man is, or at least may be, conscious, since it springs not simply from the
essence of his nature, but from the essence of his nature as determined from
some affection of it, and such an affection can exist only as he is aware of
it. "There is no affection of the Body, of which we cannot form a clear
and distinct conception " (Part 5, Prop. 4).
This interpretation, moreover, is alone consistent with ideas
that have already been explained. The conatus
of each thing differs as much from that of another as the [80] essence of each
does. It is, in fact, the essence of the thing finding expression for itself.
Thus, if the appetitus of a man were
the same as that of an animal or a stream, consciousness would make no
difference to the content or character of this conatus, and would be merely an epi-phenomenon. Spinoza’s argument,
on the other hand, is that consciousness is itself part of that essential
difference by which man is distinguished from other objects, and that all
impulses, whether they are consciously present to the mind or not, are
intrinsically different in man from what they are in anything else, and admit
of being thought and willed. For man consists of Mind as well as Body (Part 2,
Prop. 1 3, Coroll.), and it is the essence of the Mind to think, or to have
ideas. Further, as the order and connexion of ideas is the same as the order and
connexion of things, there can be nothing taking place in the body of which
there is not an idea in the mind. In deed, "the Mind does not know itself
except in so far as it apprehends the ideas of the affections of the body"
(Part 2, Prop. 23). And to have ideas, is to exercise an essential activity,
seeing that ideas are not made for but by the Mind. "By an idea I
understand a conception of the Mind, which the Mind forms because it is a
thinking thing. I say a conception rather than a perception, because the name perception
seems to indicate that the Mind is affected in a passive way by the object,
while a conception seems to express the activity of the Mind " (Part 2,
Def. 3). This power of forming ideas, it is to be noted further, is primary and
fundamental; for while (Axiom 3) there may be an idea in the Mind without
emotions, such as love, desire, etc., these, on the other hand, could not exist
unless there were in the same Individual the idea of the object loved, desired,
etc.
It seems then a necessary deduction from this, that there can
be no desire in a man of which he has not some consciousness. His idea of it
may not be adequate or sufficient, but inadequate or confused. He may not have such
a reflexive knowledge of it as unites him with the object of his knowledge. But
all human desires, whether we call them impulses, appetites, instincts, or
volitions, involve [80] and express thought in some form. To Spinoza all
spiritual activities are modes of thought. Self- consciousness, or ‘thinking
our thoughts’ is not essentially different from the apprehension of a flower,
but only a fuller knowledge of what this apprehension involves.
Thus the conatus sese
conservandi which works in all things, works in man through thought; it
takes the form of Cupiditas, or of appetitus with the consciousness of it.
It is a striving through a body which is necessarily the object of a Mind, and
through a Mind which cannot but know the affections of the body.
This is corroborated by the idea already noticed, that the virtue
or excellence of a thing depends on the nature of the thing. And as the highest
virtue of a man is to know, the conatus
which constitutes him must be at least an effort to understand, or a mental
activity (see Ethics, Part 4, Prop.
26).
Hence to Spinoza the thinking of an impulse, or the consciousness
of the conatus sese conservandi is a
necessary condition of its operation in man. Man not only desires and wills,
but is conscious of these desires and volitions. And he can be conscious of a
desire only as he finds himself in it. The object of desire is always a form of
self-satisfaction, or something which appeals to the individual as promoting his
welfare. The end of all desire is within and not without. "By the end for
the sake of which we do anything I under stand appetitus" (Part 4, Def. 7). "No one seeks to preserve his
being for the sake of any other thing" (Part 4, Prop. 25).
This may cast light on two other points in Spinoza’s teaching,
namely, that he draws no distinction between Desire and Will, and that he
prefers to speak of the utile rather than of the bonum as the end of human
desire. The first is explained by his opposition to all separation of faculties
in human nature, as well as by his antagonism to the popular doctrine that the
will is free and undetermined, while desire is necessitated. What he seeks to
bring out is, that there is no general power of Will, but only particular
volitions, and (2) that these particular volitions are simply desires in which the
Mind realises itself. Human desires, whether we call [82] them appetites,
longings, or volitions, are essentially of the same nature. They are conatus of self-realisation.
In the second place, why does Spinoza prefer to describe the
end of human action as Utility rather than the Good? The consideration of this
throws, I think, much light on his point of view, and we must work it out with
some fulness. It furnishes an effectual answer to the contention, that the Conatus sese conservandi is a blind
unconscious force working itself out in man as in any other object.
We have seen that the conatus
sese conservandi is the essence of each thing and being. It is thus the
deepest principle to which any action or desire in man can be referred.
"It is the first and sole foundation of virtue; for no
other principle can be conceived as prior to this, and apart from it no virtue
is conceivable” (Part 4, Prop. 22, Coroll.). "As Reason requires nothing
contrary to Nature, it requires that each love himself, seek his own advantage,
what is really for his advantage, and desire all that which really raises man
to greater perfection, and, to speak generally, it requires that each endeavour
to maintain his own being as far as possible. This is as necessarily true, as
that the whole is greater than its part. Again, as virtue is nothing else than
action from the laws of one s own nature, and as no one endeavours to preserve
his being except according to the laws of his own nature, it follows in the
first place that the foundation of virtue is the very conatus of preserving one s own being, and that happiness consists
in this, that the man is able to preserve his own being" (Part 4, Prop.
18, Schol.).
Thus a man’s utility or advantage consists in whatever enables
him to maintain his existence, to develop his powers, and attain the highest
perfection of which his nature is capable.
From this point of view, Spinoza s ethical teaching may justly
be called Utilitarian. He recognises no higher, or other, end from which an
individual may act, than the apprehension of what is of advantage (utile) for
himself, for, in whatever he does, or leaves undone, he is seeking his own welfare
as it presents itself to him. Yet Spinoza s Utilitarianism has little save the
name in common with theories like those of J. S. Mill and Herbert Spencer. For
the characteristic feature of the so-called Utilitarian school is not its recognition
of human utility or advantage, either individual [83] or social, as the end of
action, a recognition which is to be found in every great moralist, but its
estimation of utility in terms of the pleasure it affords. Spinoza, on the
contrary, like Grotius, employs Utility in the general sense of human welfare,
and he does not admit that this is synonymous with its pleasure-giving value.
He allows, indeed, an important place to Laetitia.
But then Laetitia is not pleasure in the ordinary meaning of the term. It is at
once less, and more, restricted. And even if the terms were synonymous, Laetitia is not for Spinoza man’s
happiness or the end of human life. It is the passing from a lesser perfection
to a greater, but it is not perfection or felicity itself. For "if Laetitia consist in passing to a greater
perfection, Beatitudo must consist in
the Mind being endowed with perfection itself" (Part 5, Prop. 33, Schol.).
Thus while Spinoza is a Utilitarian, his Utilitarianism gets
its distinctive character from the interpretation which he gives to the Utile.
And if the principle that each man should seek his own advantage, or welfare,
appeals to him as indubitable, it is because, instead of leading to impiety and
immorality, it is the foundation of both religion and morals. The impulse of
self-assertion is itself the divine energy in man, and what ever fosters and
develops it is lawful and pious. Religion, which has already presented itself
to us as absolute dependence upon God, is now seen to be also complete self-affirmation,
the sense of power through the knowledge and love of God. It is superstition
alone which prompts men "to think that good which produces sadness, and
that bad which brings gladness. . . . Gladness which is controlled by a true
regard for our advantage (utilitas)
can never be bad" (Part 4, App., 31). " No Deity, nor any but an
envious being, will find pleasure in my impotence and harm, or account as
virtuous my tears, sighs, fear, and other things of that sort, which are the
signs of a weak spirit ; on the contrary, the greater the gladness with which
we are affected, the greater the perfection to which we pass, that is, the more
do we necessarily participate in the divine nature " (Part 4, Prop. 45,
SchoL). "How can we," he asks in the Short Treatise (Part 2, Ch. 18), "fear God who is himself the
supreme good, and from whom all things that have any reality are what they are,
and in whom we also live?" [84]
There is no writer, perhaps, who has given a more im pressive
rendering to the truth that true religion is the maximising of human life, the
liberation of man’s energies, the enlargement of his vision, the highest acquiescentia animi.
On the ethical side the same principle finds application. "The
more each man endeavours and is able to seek his own advantage, that is, to
preserve his own being, the more is he endowed with virtue; and on the other
hand, in so far as a man neglects to maintain his own advantage, that is, his
own being, he is thus far impotent" (Part 4, Prop. 20). "To attain
the reality of that which we assert to be our welfare and our peace, no other
principle is necessary, save that we should seek our own advantage a principle
very natural to all things" {Short
Treatise, Part 2, Ch. 26, 5). Spinoza accepts this principle in the fullest
sense. Nothing that is for a man s advantage can be at variance with morality. The
conatus of the moral life is simply
the effort to make the most of one’s nature, under the conditions and relations
which that nature necessarily involves. The good man is the strong man, the man
who understands what is possible for him, and knows wherein his activity can
find expression. Thus virtus is always a potentia
(Part 4, Def. 8), a capacity, an energy. And all power of acting is virtus. Hatred and ignorance are not
virtues, because they are not powers, but the absence of power. Even
repentance, humility, and shame, though they have a certain value, are not themselves
virtues. They express a man’s consciousness of his weakness and incapacity,
rather than the sense of his power of acting. At most, they are signs, like the
pain of a wound, that the vital forces are not extinguished.
Self-mortification, then, can have no value, except as it is
not really self-mortification, but
the means to a greater self-satisfaction. It is never virtuous to renounce our
own good or to stint ourselves of that which will further it; though it may be
virtuous to postpone a present enjoyment for a greater or better in the future,
or to refuse to gratify a personal inclination at the cost of social ties which
are the condition of our true welfare. But some such justification there must
be for every act of self-denial, since mere self-denial [85] assuming it to be possible
instead of being the essence of virtue, would cut the root of all virtue, or
self-activity. Of the merely negative side of human life, of pain, weakness, sorrow,
ignorance, the evil passions, and death, Spinoza has little to say. And this
omission is not accidental. It is a deliberate attempt to turn the stream of
moral theory into another channel. Many had written eloquently of the vices and
miseries of human existence. But few had sought to discover the nature and
measure of human power and virtus, or
to lay bare the causes of the
weakness and wretchedness they deplored. They had exhausted their genius in
satire and depreciation, and by leading men to think meanly of themselves, they
had made them mean. Spinoza sets himself to counteract this tendency of
thought, and to bring into relief the strength of human nature its power to
control passion, to conquer ignorance, to provide against its own inconstancy,
and even to bid defiance to death itself. I dwell little, he says, upon human
impotence and much upon human power; I wish men "bene agere et
laetari." Not that he is blind to the place of the negative element in
life, as we shall see later. But the negative is not, he maintains, the truth
of human life. It is not the distinctive activity in which man’s nature reveals
itself. It exists only to be overcome, and whatever value it has comes from its
function as contributory to a positive self-affirmation.
"He who desires to assist others to enjoy the highest
good . . . will beware of harping upon the vices of men, and he will be careful
to speak only sparingly of human impotence. But he will enlarge upon human virtus or potentia, and the way in which it can be perfected. For thus men
will seek to live not from fear or aversion, but, under the influence of the
emotion of gladness alone, will endeavour to live as far as possible according
to the rule of Reason" (Part 4, App., 25).
Thus the end of human endeavour can only be the unfolding of
the individual s immanent energies. Man is what he can do; while his impotence
or passivity is not to be understood through his own nature, but only through the
nature of other things and beings. His power is what constitutes his essence,
and in the exercise of this power his virtus
consists. The explication of this power
[86] occupies Spinoza in the 4th and 5th Books of the Ethics, and the main
point he proves is that it is the power of thinking, of knowing oneself, and
things, and God. This is the highest activity of which man is capable. It is at
once its own end, and the end of all other desires. For it endows man with the
power of transforming all, or almost all, that can happen to him into material
for his own self-realisation ; it enables him to make the world the instrument
of his will, and to transmute the passions which vex him into spiritual
energies which enlarge the sphere of his existence.
From this two conclusions can be drawn, (i) Virtue is a self-complete
end, desirable in and for itself. (2) Whatever contributes to this end, that
is, whatever tends to develop and maintain man s energies, it it lawful for
him, nay it is his duty, to seek.
The first of these ideas Spinoza works out in several connections.
He points out, for example, that virtue is not, as the crowd suppose, a bondage
by which the individual is constrained to something alien to his own nature.
"Men in general think themselves free in so far as they are at liberty to
obey their lusts, and regard themselves as yielding up their rights, in so far
as they are bound to live after the rule of the divine law" (Part 5, Prop.
41, Schol). But this is the very opposite of the truth. Virtue is not bondage
but liberty; it is activity, energy, self-expression, not subjection to outward
causes. Therefore the only reward open to the virtuous man is virtue itself,
for this is to his soul what wholesome food is to his body. "Beatitudo is not the reward of virtue,
but virtue itself" (Ibid., Prop.
42). And on the other hand the only punishment of fools is their folly. The bad
are afflicted only through their badness. No one has conceived or expressed
more clearly than Spinoza the principle that the rewards of right living are
not externally attached to it, but necessary consequences of it, and that right
living alone makes a man his own master, and enables him to enjoy the highest acquiescentia animi.
It is another aspect of the same truth which he brings out when
he says that "he who is led by fear and does the good in order to escape
the evil, is not led by Reason . . . and [87] that those who, instead of
guiding men by Reason, wish so to constrain them that they will avoid evil
rather than love virtue, are simply trying to make others as wretched as themselves"
(Part 4, Prop. 63). A desire which springs from Reason makes us, on the
contrary, avoid the evil, because we love the good.
This means that in a sense all true virtue is disinterested,
but only in a sense. Spinoza does not believe that virtuous action involves the
sacrifice of anything which would heighten or maintain the individual s
activity ; that is, it does not involve the sacrifice of anything that would
contribute to his welfare. On the contrary, virtue is his interest. Only for this reason is it better, or more worth
choosing, than vice. The good man differs from the bad in knowing himself, and, therefore what is good for
him. The bad man does not know his own interest, because he is ignorant of
himself, and of the conditions of his life. Thus a man s devotion to virtue can
be disinterested, only in the sense that this end has for him no interest
outside of itself, for the sake of which he chooses it ; and it can be
interested only if it is willed as a means to some end external to it. A
disinterested devotion to the good of others as opposed to a devotion to our
own, Spinoza always regards as an illusory idea, and an illusion no less fatal
to the welfare of the others than to that of the self. The very antithesis on
which it rests, as we shall see immediately, runs counter to the whole tenor of
his thought. For no one, as he puts it, is so useful to other men as he who knows
his own advantage and seeks it.
The second conclusion mentioned above adds force to this
argument. Whatever tends to expand or maintain a man s capacities as a whole,
it is lawful and a duty for him to seek and to enjoy. Nothing is wrong for him
to do, except that which is bad for him. He does not sin against God, or man,
unless he sins against himself. And only that is bad which tends to restrain
the exercise of his powers, or to prevent their development. In this respect
Spinoza seems to breathe the spirit and temper of the Greek race rather than that
of his own. For asceticism he has no admiration. To afflict one s body in
atonement for the sin of one s soul is to [88] make oneself twice wretched, for
" the more things the body is fit for the higher is the soul s endowment."[1]
Thus all that will contribute in any way
to the good health and vitality of the human soul, or body, it is the part of
the wise man to strive after.
"It is the duty of a wise man to make use of things,
and to get as much enjoyment from them as he can (not indeed to enjoy them ad nauseam, for this would not be the
enjoyment of them). It is, I repeat, the duty of the wise man to refresh and
recreate himself with moderate and pleasant food and drink, with the sweet
smells and attractions of growing plants, with ornamentation, music, games,
plays, and other things of this kind, of which any one can make use without
doing harm to another. For the human body is composed of a great many parts,
differing in their nature from one another, which stand in constant need of
fresh and varied nourishment if the Body as a whole is to be equally fitted for
all the activities which can follow from its nature, and if, consequently, the
Mind also is to be equally fitted for comprehending many things at once" (Part
4, Prop. 45, Schol.).
Nothing then can be unlawful for man to possess and enjoy so
long as it is a positive furtherance of his essential activities.
These ideas enable us to solve a difficulty which inevitably
presents itself to a student of Spinoza. The difficulty is, that the ethical
categories ‘good and bad’ are said in some passages to be only modes of
thinking, and to express nothing real in the nature of things; while, in other
places, they are treated as of the highest significance. For example, in the
Preface to Part 4 of the Ethics we
are told, that "Good and Bad indicate nothing positive in things, considered
that is to say in themselves, nor are they anything but modes of thought, or
notions which we form from a comparison of things with one another." And
yet the greater part of the Ethics is
occupied with a careful analysis of the distinction between the Good and the
Bad, while the true [89] good is constantly contrasted with other so-called
goods, and the summum bonum is
presented as the only object which affords a wholly adequate satisfaction of
human desire. Is there not an evident contradiction here? How can one hold that
Good and Bad are nothing real in the nature of things, and yet maintain moral
distinctions, and even write a treatise on their significance?
The answer to this difficulty will emerge, if we note why Spinoza
generally speaks of the end of human endeavour as the utile rather than as the bonum.
The fact that he does so, cannot be doubted. For while he makes frequent use of
the terms ‘good,’ ‘true good,’ ‘supreme good,’ his use of the terms ‘utile,’ ‘utilius,’
‘summum utile’ is much more frequent; and when he does employ the former set of
phrases he generally hastens to add ‘seu
utile.’ Moreover, the formal definitions of the Good which he gives, are in
terms of the utile. As instances of
many similar passages, we may quote the following:
"To act from virtue is in us nothing else than,
according to the guidance of Reason, to act, to live, to preserve one s being
(these three phrases have the same meaning) from the motive of seeking our own advantage
(utile)" (Part 4, Prop. 24).
"There is no particular object in the nature of things which is of more
advantage (utilius) to a man than the
man who lives after the guidance of Reason. For that is of most service (utilissimum) to a man which most agrees
with his own nature, that is a man" (Part 4, Prop. 35, Cor. i.). "Those
things which conduce to a common society of men, or which bring it about that
they live in harmony, are advantageous (utilia),
and those, on the other hand, are bad which produce discord in the State "
(Part 4, Prop. 40). Again we are told, in alternative phrase, that "he summum utile sive bonum of the Mind is
the knowledge of God" (Part 4, Prop. 28, Dem.), that "whatever we
judge to be bonum sive utile for
preserving our being and for enjoying the life of Reason, that it is lawful for
us to take for our use, and to make use of in any way we please" (Part 4,
App., 8) ; and that a free man directly desires "the good, that is to act,
to live, and to maintain his being from the motive of seeking his own advantage
(utile} (Part 4, Prop. 67, Dem.) Similarly,
Spinoza says in the 1st Definition of Part 4, "By good I shall understand
that which we know assuredly to be of service (utile) to us"; and in Prop.
26 of Part 4 he declares that "the Mind in so far as it makes use of
Reason judges nothing to be utile for
it save that which conduces to understanding." [90]
Thus, not only does Spinoza treat the good as synony mous
with the utilel but he has a preference for the latter as the more suggestive
term. On what grounds? Mainly because it better brings into relief the relativity of the good. Nothing is good
or bad in itself: its goodness, or badness, depends on the particular things to
which it is referred. It is to be noted," we are told, near the
beginning of the Tract, de IntelL Emend.,
" that good and bad are only used to express a relation; and so, one and
the same thing can be, in different relations, called good and bad." “One
and the same thing can be at the same time good and bad and also indifferent.
For example, Music is good for a melancholy man, bad for a sorrowful one, while
for a deaf man it is neither good nor bad " (Ethics, Part 4, Pref). Good in fact always means good for, and we
cannot pronounce upon the goodness or badness of anything unless we specify at
the same time for what it is good or bad.
Thus things are not good or bad considered in themselves. By considered in themselves Spinoza does
not mean things taken apart from their relations, but things conceived in all their
relations, or in their place in the Universe, or as they are in God. When so
conceived they are necessary, but neither
good nor bad. The latter predicates are applicable to them only if we think of
them in some, particular relation. Fire
may be good, or useful, for hardening clay, and bad for hardening wax, but
considered in itself in the above sense, that is in its own essential nature,
it is neither good nor bad.
In the same way God cannot with strict propriety be called
good in himself. For, properly speaking, only that can be good which may also
be bad, and in this case the latter is impossible. Neither can aught be called
good save in comparison with something else which is not so good. And what in
this instance can we put on the same level with a view to a comparison, or what
else is there with which the
principle of all reality can be contrasted? Neither can it be said that God
always acts with a view to the good. He acts from the immanent necessity of his
nature, but there is no absolute good other than himself to which his energies
might be directed. [91]
If then we do call God good, it must be in relation to the
particular things and beings which ‘live and move’ only in him. He is their
good, or good to them. "God is called good, because he conducit to all things." "No
one can hate God," since no one can will his own impotence, or refuse what
presents itself to him as his good. Thus while we may speak of the knowledge
and love of God as man’s supreme good, we have to remember that this is a
characterisation of God from a particular point of view, or in a particular
relation.
The Good, then, is not for Spinoza, as it is for Plato, an ultimate
category of reality. For him Good means good
for man, or what is advantageous in this particular relation. It is not an
ideal end outside of, or determinable apart from, human nature. And if we speak
of it as the law ordained by God for men, this can only mean that it is the law
imposed by man’s nature upon itself, or the conditions of existence which are
involved in the human constitution. Thus it depends upon, or is determined by,
or is relative to, the distinctive activities of man, for the content of the
good depends necessarily on the nature of that for which it is good.
Spinoza, however, works out the idea of the relativity of the
Good to a further result. We have already had occasion to note his distrust of
universal conceptions, his insistence that it is particulars and not universals
which are the objects of God s knowledge, and his exaltation of the conatus sese conservandi as the
principle which imparts to each object its own peculiar nature. It is a natural
corollary from this train of thought, that human good must be relative, not merely
to human nature in general, but to the nature of each man. Only that is good,
or binding, which is good for me, or which is for my advantage. No individual
can will, or seek, anything, save that which he judges will satisfy his desires,
or expand his powers.
Not only, therefore, is all human good the good of individuals, but it exists only as it is
willed or desired by them as their
good. This idea finds expression, from different sides, in two sets of passages
which appear at first sight at variance with one another. [92]
In Part 3 of the Ethics
(Prop. 9, Schol.) we are told that we do not seek, will, desire or long for
anything because we judge it good, but that on the contrary we judge anything to
be good because we seek, will, desire and long for it. And a little later
(Prop. 39, Schol.), the same idea is thus stated, "By good I here
understand every kind of Laetitia,
and whatever conduces thereto, and especially that which satisfies desire, of
whatever kind that be. And by bad every kind of Tristitia, and especially that which frustrates desire. For we have
already shown that we desire nothing because we judge it to be good, but on the
contrary we call that good which we desire ; and so that which we dislike we
call bad." But in Part 4 of the Ethics
(Prop. 19) the opposite view is propounded, "Each man in accordance with
the laws of his own nature necessarily desires or is averse to that which he
judges to be good or bad."
The explanation of this discrepancy seems to be that in the
former case what Spinoza denies is that anything is good or bad in itself, and
to be desired for itself; that only is good which is good for us, or good as
satisfying some desire, or self-realising effort, in us. While what he affirms in
both cases is that to judge anything to be good for us, and to desire it, are
two phrases which mean the same thing.
From the consequences of this doctrine he does not shrink.
He recognises that it makes each man s good relative to him, and constitutes
each the judge of his own advantage.
"Every man judges, or estimates, according to his own
ruling passion (ex suo affectu) what is good, bad, better, worse, best, or
worst. Thus the avaricious man judges plenty of money the best thing, and the
want of it the worst. The ambitious man desires nothing so much as glory, and shame
is what he most fears. Again, the envious man knows no greater pleasure than
another man s unhappiness, while nothing distresses him so much as another s
happiness. Thus each man according to his own ruling passion judges a thing to
be good or bad, useful or hurtful " (Part 3, Prop. 39, Schol.). Further,
"as each man judges ex suo affectu what is good, bad, better, and worse,
it follows that men can differ from one another as much in their judgments as
they do in their emotions" (Ibid., Prop. 5 1, Schol.).
[1] “He who
has a Body like an infant or a child fitted for very few tasks, and very much
dependent upon outward causes, has a Mind which, considered in itself alone,
knows almost nothing of itself or God or things ; and, on the other hand, he
who has a Body fit for very many activities has a Mind which, considered in itself
alone, knows much of itself, and God, and things " (Part 5, Prop. 39, Schol.).
Thus to change the body of infancy into a body of manifold activities is (from
one side at least) the whole task of human life.
"Spinoza accepts it as axiomatic that an individual does, under all circumstances, seek his own welfare and happiness, or what he conceives as such. If he ever renounce an apparent good, it can only be in the hope of thereby securing a greater good, or escaping a greater evil, in the future. All action, or forbearance from action, is the effort (conatus) of a man to realise himself.
BeantwoordenVerwijderenFrom this point of view, Spinoza s ethical teaching may justly be called Utilitarian. He recognises no higher, or other, end from which an individual may act, than the apprehension of what is of advantage (utile) for himself, for, in whatever he does, or leaves undone, he is seeking his own welfare as it presents itself to him."
Dit is, volgens Freud,het ‘utilitarianism’ van ons onbewuste. De neuroot bvb ordent ‘in whatever he does, or leaves undone’ zijn omgeving strakgewijs ‘for his own welfare and happines’. Zijn ‘lijden’ aan bvb herhalingsdwang is in functie van ‘renounce an apparent good, in the hope of thereby securing a greater good’.
Alleen is ‘the apprehension of what is of advantage for himself’ voor de betrokken neuroot niet gekend.
"To act from virtue is in us nothing else than, according to the guidance of Reason, to act, to live, to preserve one s being from the motive of seeking our own advantage" (Part 4, Prop. 24).
De ‘guidance of Reason’ moet leiden naar adequaat handelen via adequate ideeën.
Kunnen we dan beter op de sofa liggen in een freudiaanse psychoanalyse in plaats van de Ethica te lezen? Dan komen we pas in kennis met de onbewuste coördinaten die ons handelen funderen, niet door het lezen van Spinoza.
Wat denk je Stan?
Ed, toch, hoe kun je zo diep vallen...
BeantwoordenVerwijderenFreuds psychoanalyse laat niet "de onbewuste coördinaten die ons handelen funderen" ontdekken, maar alleen de ziekelijke afwijkingen in dat handelen. Freuds psychoanalyse was nooit bedoeld om patiënten voor de rest van hun leven gelukkig te maken. Hij wilde 'slechts' het onnodig lijden, dat zij zichzelf aandeden, genezen, zodat zij zich sterk konden maken tegenover wat hij de 'gewone ongelukkigheid' noemde - das gemeines Unglück. Dat gewone ongeluk valt niet weg te nemen, het is even natuurlijk als de mens zelf. De slotzinnen van Studien über Hysterie (Breuer/Freud, 1895) luiden: "dass viel damit gewonnen ist, wenn es uns gelingt, Ihr hysterisches Elend in gemeines Unglück zu verwandeln. Gegen das letztere werden Sie sich mit einem wieder genesenen Nervensystem besser zur Wehre setzen können."
Als je niet door een neurose o.i.d. a.h.w. gedwongen wordt op de sofa plaats te nemen, maar in staat bent de Ethica te lezen, kan Spinoza je meer inzicht geven in das gemeines Unglück dat we onszelf in onze illusies aandoen. Spinoza kan je doen inzien dat de mens zelf net zo natuurlijk is als heel de rest van het universum. Freud mag je houden, geef mij - angenommen ein gesundes Nervensystem - Spinoza maar.
Stan, ik ben het eens met de slotregels van je inleidende tekst. Bedankt voor het binnenhalen.
BeantwoordenVerwijderen“Freuds psychoanalyse laat niet "de onbewuste coördinaten die ons handelen funderen" ontdekken, maar alleen de ziekelijke afwijkingen in dat handelen.”
BeantwoordenVerwijderenOei, dat is wel een heel enge kijk op de psychoanalyse. Alsof niet elk handelen mede gefundeerd wordt door ons onbewuste? Alleen de ‘ziekelijke afwijkingen’?
Met dat ‘gewone ongeluk’ heeft iedereen te maken, het is zoals je aangeeft even natuurlijk als de mens zelf. Meer nog, het is de mens. Maar zo gewoon is dat niet.
Menig Frans filosoof die Spinoza goed gezind is leest hem met die psychoanalytische aandacht. Je bracht laatst nog een bijdrage over de affectie geladenheid van het adequate bij Deleuze, maar Badiou en zeker Lacan nemen het onbewuste serieus. En dat leest goed samen met Spinoza.
Je hebt zelf op je blog een boek geprezen, of toch aangegeven, van Kiarina Kordela 'Surplus - Spinoza en Lacan'.
"Surplus maintains that Lacanian psychoanalysis is the proper continuation of the Spinozian-Marxian line of thought." staat er op de achterflap.
Stan, je reactie verbaast me. Daarom nog even het volgende.
BeantwoordenVerwijderenFreuds stelling dat het ik geen baas in eigen huis is, is toch ook Spinoza’s grondstelling. De affectiones of de aandoeningen van het tweede en derde hoofdstuk van de Ethica gaan over die menselijke knechtschap. De mens is geen vrij wezen. Niet alleen in zijn ‘ziekelijk afwijkingen’ (zoals jij meent), maar in al zijn handelen. Op dat vlak hebben Freud en Spinoza gelijke uitgangspunten.
Wie dat uitgangspunt niet aanvaardt en meent wel een bewust gefundeerd wezen te zijn bedriegt zich, en weet niet dat hij gevangen zit in het eerste weten.
(In de ‘Psychopathologie van het dagelijks leven’ laat Freud zien hoe al onze handelingen verbonden zijn met het onbewuste. Ook ‘De grap en haar relatie met het onbewuste’ gaat niet over ziektebeelden.)
Adequaat inzicht is besef krijgen in ons ware doen en spreken en van daaruit immanent handelen. Hoe onbewuste coördinaten het/ons bestaan tot verschijnen brengt kan zich tonen in een doorgedreven analyse op de sofa. Net zoals je geen adequaat inzicht krijgt door louter Spinoza te lezen, maar door te leven naar je adequate ethiek.
Lacans onderzoek naar het menselijk verlangen kan je gelijklopend lezen met Spinoza’s conatus. (En dan tonen zich ook de verschillen.)
Ed, jij begon zelf met de tegestelling "op de sofa liggen" versus "de Ethica lezen." Ik ging daar alleen maar op door en haalde Freud zelf aan wat zijn bescheiden bedoeling met zijn theprapie betrof - zeker in de eerste jaren.
BeantwoordenVerwijderenOok in zijn ‘Psychopathologie van het dagelijks leven’ beschrijft Freud zijn beperkte doelstelling (patiënt helpen zodat hij alleen nog het gewone dgelijkse ongeluk onder ogen heeft te zien (zeg ik uit m'n geheugen - heb Freuds boeken niet bij de hand).
Je schrijft: "De mens is geen vrij wezen. Niet alleen in zijn ‘ziekelijk afwijkingen’ (zoals jij meent)..." Waar haal je vandaan dat ik dat meen?
Prima dat je Deleuze, Badiou en Lacan erbij haalt die allemaal "het onbewuste serieus nemen"... een onbewust dat Spinoza overigens niet kent. Dus waarom hem daarmee in verband brengen?