Everyone who looks with open eyes at the world
around him today sees the so-called “Social Question”
looming at every turn. No one who takes life seriously can avoid
forming ideas of some kind about this question and all that is
involved with it. And what could seem more obvious than that a mode
of thinking, which makes the highest human ideals its particular
concern, must arrive at some sort of relation towards social wants
and claims. Now Anthroposophy aims at being such a mode of thinking
for the present times; and therefore it is but natural, that people
should enquire what its relation is towards the social
question.
It might at first seem as though Anthroposophy
had nothing particular to say in this connection. The most striking
feature of Anthroposophy will be deemed, at first sight, to be the
cultivation of the soul's inward life and the opening of the
eyes to a spiritual world. This endeavor can be seen by any
unprejudiced person from the most cursory acquaintance with the ideas
promulgated by anthroposophic speakers and writers. It is harder,
however, to see that these endeavors at the present moment have any
practical significance: in particular, its connection with the social
question is by no means self-evident. Many people will ask: “Of
what use for bad social conditions can a teaching be which is taken
up with Reincarnation, Karma, the Supersensible World, the Rise of
Man, and so forth? Such a line of thought seems to soar altogether
too far off into cloudland, away from any reality; whereas just now
every single person urgently needs to keep all his wits about him, in
order to grapple with the actual problems of which earth's
realities give him enough.
Of the many and
various opinions that Anthroposophy inevitably calls forth in the
present day, two shall be mentioned here.
The first consists in regarding Anthroposophy as the outcome of
an unbridled and disordered fancy. It is quite natural that people
should take this view; and an earnest anthroposophist should be the
last to find it strange. Every conversation that he overhears,
everything that goes on around him, and in which people find
amusement and pleasure, all may show him that he talks a language
which, to many of them, is downright folly. But this understanding of
his surroundings will need to go hand in hand with an absolute
assurance that he himself is on the right road; otherwise he will
hardly be able to hold his ground when he realizes how his views
conflict with those of so many others, who count as thinkers and
highly educated persons. If he does possess the due assurance, if he
knows the truth and the force of his views, he says to himself:
— ”I know very well that today I may be regarded as a
crackbrained visionary; and I clearly see why. But truth, even though
it is ridiculed and mocked at, will have its effect; and its effect
is not dependent upon people's opinion, but upon the solidity
of its own foundations.”
The other opinion which Anthroposophy has to meet is this: that
its ideas are all very beautiful and comforting, and may have their
value for the inner life of the soul, but are worthless for the
practical struggle of life. Even people who demand anthroposophic
nourishment for the appeasing of their spiritual wants may be
tempted, only too easily, to say to themselves: “It is all very
well; but how about the social distress, the material misery? That is
a problem on which all this idealistic world can throw no
light.” Now this opinion is the very one which rests on a total
failure to recognize the real facts of life, and, above all, on a
misunderstanding as to the real fruits of the anthroposophic mode of
thinking. The one question that people, as a rule, ask about
Anthroposophy is: — What are its doctrines? How are its
statements to be proved? And then, of course, they look for its
fruits in the pleasurable sensations to be extracted from its
doctrines.
Nothing, of course, could be more natural; one
must certainly begin by having a feeling for the truth of statements
that are presented to one. But the true fruits of Anthroposophy are
not to be sought in such feeling. Its fruits are first really seen
when anyone comes, with a heart and mind trained in Anthroposophy, to
the practical problems of life. The question is, whether
Anthroposophy will at all help him towards handling these problems
with discernment and applying himself with understanding to find ways
and means of solving them.
To be effective in life, a man must first
understand life. Here lies the gist of the matter. So long as one
asks no further than: What does Anthroposophy teach? — Its
teachings may be deemed too exalted for practical life. But if one
turns to consider the kind of discipline that the thoughts and
feelings undergo from these teachings, this objection will cease.
Strange as it may seem to a merely superficial view of the matter, it
is nevertheless a fact: These anthroposophic ideas, that appear to
hover so airily in the clouds, train the eye for a right conduct of
everyday affairs. And because Anthroposophy begins by leading the
spirit aloft into the clear regions above the sense-world, it thereby
sharpens the understanding for social requirements. Paradoxical as
this may seem, it is none the less
true.
To give merely an illustration of what is
meant: An uncommonly interesting book has recently appeared, A
Working-man in America (Als Arbeiter in Amerika, pub. Sigismund,
Berlin) The author is State-Councillor Kolb, who had the enterprise
to spend several months as a common worker in America. In this way he
acquired a discrimination of men and of life which was obviously
neither to be obtained along the educational paths that led to
councillorship, nor from the mass of experience which he was able to
accumulate in such a position and in all the other posts that a man
fills before he becomes a Councillor of State. He was thus for years
in a position of considerable responsibility; and yet, not until he
had left this, and lived — just a short while — in a
foreign land, did he learn the knowledge of life that enabled him to
write the following memorable sentence in his book: “How often,
in old days, when I saw a sound, sturdy man begging, had I not asked,
in righteous indignation: Why doesn't the lazy rascal work? I
knew now, why. The fact is, it looks quite different in theory from
what it does in practice; and at the study table one can deal quite
comfortably with even the most unsavory chapters of political
economy.”
To prevent any possible
misunderstanding, let it be said at once, that no one can feel
anything but the warmest appreciation for a man who could bring
himself to leave a comfortable position in life, in order to go and
do hard labor in a brewery and a bicycle factory. It is a deed worthy
of all respect, and it must be duly emphasized, lest it should be
imagined that any disparagement is intended of the man who did it.
Nevertheless, for anyone who will face the facts, it is unmistakably
evident that all this man's book-learning, all the schooling he
had been through, had not given him the ability to read
life.
Just try and realize all that
is involved in such an admission! One may learn everything which, in
these days, qualifies one to hold posts of considerable influence;
and yet, with it all, one may be quite remote and aloof from that
life where one's sphere of action lies. Is it not much the
same, as though a man were to go through a course of training in
bridge construction, and then, when called upon actually to build a
bridge, had no notion how to set about it? And yet, no! — it is
not quite the same. Anyone who is not properly trained for bridge
building will soon be enlightened as to his deficiencies when he
comes to actual practice. He will soon show himself to be a bungler
and find his services generally declined. But when a man is not
properly trained for his work in social life, his deficiencies are
not so readily demonstrated. A badly built bridge breaks down; and
then even the most prejudiced can see that he who built it was a
bungler. But the bungling that goes on in social work is not so
directly apparent. It only shows itself in the suffering of
one's fellow-men. And the connection between this suffering and
bungling is not one that people recognize as readily as the
connection between the breakdown of a bridge and the incompetent
bridge builder.
“But what has all this to do
with Anthroposophy?” someone will say. “Do the friends of
Anthroposophy imagine that what they can teach would have helped
Councillor Kolb to a better understanding of life? Of what use would
it have been to him, supposing he had known about reincarnation and
karma and any number of supersensible worlds? Surely nobody will
maintain that ideas about planetary systems and higher worlds could
have saved the State-Councillor from having one day to confess to
himself, that at the study table one can deal quite comfortably with
even the most unsavory chapters of political economy?” The
friend of Anthroposophy might indeed answer — as Lessing did on
a certain occasion: I am that “Nobody”, for I do maintain
it! Not meaning of course, that the doctrine of reincarnation, or the
knowledge of karma will be enough to equip a man for social activity,
that would, of course, be a very naive notion. Naturally, the thing
is not to be done simply by taking the people, who are destined for
Councillors of State, and, instead of sending them to Schmoller, or
Wagner, or Brentano at the University, setting them to study
Blavatsky's Secret Doctrine. But the point is this: Suppose a
theory of economics, produced by someone well versed in
Anthroposophy — will it be of the kind with which one can deal
quite comfortably at the study table, but which breaks down in the
face of practical life? That is just what it will not be. For when do
theories break down in the face of real life? When they are produced
by the kind of thinking that is not educated to real life. Now the
principles of Anthroposophy are as much the actual laws of life as
the principles of electricity are the actual laws for the manufacture
of electrical apparatus. Anyone who wishes to set up a factory of
electrical apparatus must first master the true principles of
electricity: and whoever intends to take an effective part in life
must first make himself acquainted with the laws of life. And remote
as the doctrines of Anthroposophy appear to be from life, they are no
less near to it in actual truth. Aloof and unpractical to superficial
observation, for a genuine understanding they are the key to real
life.
It is not merely an inquisitive
desire of new things which leads people to withdraw into an
“anthroposophic circle” in order to obtain all sorts of
“interesting” revelations about worlds beyond; but
because there they learn to school their thought and feeling and will
on the “eternal laws of life”, and to go forth into the
thick of life with a clear, keen eye for the understanding of it. The
teachings of Anthroposophy are a detour of arriving at a full-lived
thinking, discerning, feeling.
The anthroposophic movement
will first come into its right channel when this is fully recognized.
Right doing is the outcome of right thinking; and wrong doing is the
outcome of thinking wrongly — or of not thinking at all. Anyone
who has any faith at all in the possibility of doing good in social
matters must admit that the doing of it is a question of human
faculties. To have worked patiently and persistently through the
anthroposophical conceptions means enhanced faculties for effective
social work. It is here not so much a question of the thoughts that
Anthroposophy gives a man, as of what it enables him to do with his
thinking.
It must be confessed that,
within anthroposophic circles themselves, there has hitherto been no
very marked sign of any effort in this particular direction. It is
therefore equally undeniable that, on this very account, strangers to
Anthroposophy have as yet every reason for questioning the above
statements. But it must not be forgotten that the anthroposophic
movement in its present form is only at the beginning of its career
as an effective force. Its further progress will consist in its
making its way into every field of practical life. And then, in the
Social Question, for instance, it will be found that, in place of
theories “with which one can deal quite comfortably at the
study table,” we shall have others which facilitate the insight
required for a sound, unbiased judgment of life's affairs, and
direct a man's will into lines of action that shall be for the
health and happiness of his
fellow-men.
Plenty of people will say at
once: Councillor Kolb's case itself is a proof that there is no
need to call in Anthroposophy; all that is wanted is that anyone who
is preparing for a particular profession should not acquire the
theory of it solely by sitting at home and studying, but should be
brought into contact with actual life, so that he may approach his
work practically, as well as theoretically. Kolb, after all —
they will say — merely required a brief glimpse into real life,
and then, even what he had already learnt was quite enough for him to
come to other opinions than those he had before. No, it is not
enough, for the fault lies deeper
down.
A person may have learnt to see
that, with a faulty training, he can only build bridges that will
tumble down, and yet still be very far from having acquired the
faculty of building bridges that do not tumble down. For this he must
first have preliminary education of a kind that has the seeds of life
in it. Most certainly a man needs only a glimpse into social
conditions, and, let his theory as to the fundamental laws of life be
ever so defective, he will cease to say: “Why doesn't the
lazy rascal work?” He learns to see that the conditions
themselves are the answer. But is that enough to teach him how to
shape conditions so that men may prosper? All the well-meaning
people, who have concocted schemes for the betterment of man's
lot, were undoubtedly not of the same way of thinking as Councillor
Kolb before he took his trip to America. They were certainly already
convinced, without such an expedition, that every case of distress
cannot simply be dismissed with the phrase: “Why doesn't
the lazy rascal work?” But does this mean that all their many
proposals for social reform would bear fruit? Assuredly not; if only
for the reason that so many of them are contradictory. And therefore
one may fairly say that even Councillor Kolb's more positive
schemes of reform, after his conversion, would possibly not have any
very marked results.
This is just the mistake which
our age makes in such matters. Everyone thinks himself qualified to
understand life, even though he has never troubled to become
acquainted with its fundamental laws, nor ever trained his thinking
powers to recognize what the true forces of life are. And
Anthroposophy is indeed a training for the sound judgment of life,
because it goes to the bottom of life. It is of no use whatever
simply to see that the conditions bring a man into unfavorable
circumstances in life, under which he goes to grief. One must learn
to know the forces by which favorable conditions are created. That is
what our experts in political economy are unable to do — and
for much the same reason as a man cannot do sums if he does not know
the multiplication tables. You may set columns of figures before him
— as many as you please; but staring at them will not help him.
Put a man, who has no thinking grasp of the fundamental forces of
social life, before the actual realities; he may give the most
telling description of everything that he sees; but the windings of
the social forces, as they twist their coil for human weal or human
woe, will yet remain insoluble to
him.
In this age we need an
interpretation of life which leads us on to life's true
sources. And Anthroposophy can be such an interpretation of life. If
everyone, before making up his mind as to the particular social
reform that “the world wants”, would first go through a
training in the life-lessons of Anthroposophy, we should get further.
That anthroposophists today only “talk” and do not
“act”, is a meaningless objection; for of course people
cannot act, so long as the paths of action are closed to them. A man
may be an expert in the knowledge of the soul, and ever so well
acquainted with all that a father should do for the upbringing of his
children; yet he is powerless to act, unless the father gives him the
charge of their education. There is nothing to be done in this
respect, save wait in patience, until the talking of the
anthroposophists has opened the minds of those who have the power to
act. And that will come.
This first objection no more
holds water than the other one: That these anthroposophical notions
have not yet been put to the test, and may very likely prove, when
brought into the open, to be every whit as barren a theory as the
political economy of State-Councillor Kolb. But this again is no
argument. Indeed it can only be urged by someone who is wholly
unacquainted with the very nature and essence of anthroposophic
truths. Whoever is acquainted with them well knows that they rest on
quite a different footing from the kind of thing that one
“tests”.
The fact is that the laws of
human welfare are inscribed with as much certitude in the very first
fundaments of men's souls as the multiplication table. One must
only go down deep enough to the basis of the human soul to find them.
No doubt what is thus inscribed in the soul can be demonstrated
objectively; just as it can objectively be demonstrated that twice
two is four by arranging 4 peas in two sets. But would anyone
maintain that the truth “Twice two is four” must first be
“tested” on the peas? The two things are in every way
comparable. He who questions an anthroposophic truth is someone who
has not yet recognized it; just as only a person can question that
twice two is four, who has not yet recognized it. Widely as they
differ, inasmuch as the one is very simple, and the other very
complicated, yet in other respects there is an analogy between
them.
It is true that one must first study
Anthroposophy itself before one can clearly perceive this. And
therefore for those who are unacquainted with Anthroposophy, no
“proof” of the fact can be adduced. One can only say:
First become acquainted with Anthroposophy, and then all this too
will be clear to you.
The great mission of
Anthroposophy in our age will first become evident when Anthroposophy
works like a leaven in every part of life. Until the road of actual
life can be trodden in the fullest sense of the word, those into
whose minds Anthroposophy has entered are but at the beginning of
their work. So long, too, they must be prepared to have it cast in
their teeth that their doctrines are the foes of real life. Yes,
these doctrines are the foes of real life, just as the railway was
the foe of a kind of life which regarded the stage-coach as
life's only reality, and could see no further. They are its
foes in the same way as the future is the foe of the
past.
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