IV
CONCERNING ABSTRACTION
On page 35 the expression “benumbing” (Herablähmung) is used of
representations as they turn into imitations of sensory reality. It is
in this
“benumbing” that we must locate the positive event that underlies the
phase of
abstraction in the process of cognition. The mind forms concepts of
sensory
reality. For any theory of knowledge the question is how that, which
it retains
within itself as concept of a real being or event, is related to such
real
being or event. Has the somewhat that I carry around in me as the
concept of a
wolf any relation at all to a particular reality, or is it simply a
schema that
I have constructed for myself by withdrawing my attention
(abstracting) from
anything peculiar to this wolf or that wolf, and to which nothing in
the real
world corresponds? This question received extensive treatment in the
medieval
conflict between Nominalism and Realism: for the Nominalists nothing
about the
world is real except the visible materials extant in it as a single
individual,
flesh, blood, bones and so forth. The concept “wolf” is “merely” a
conceptual
aggregate of the properties common to different wolves. To this the
Realist
objects: any material found in an individual wolf is also to be found
in other
animals. There must then be something that disposes the materials into
the
living coherence they exhibit in the wolf. This constituent reality is
given by
way of the concept. It cannot be denied that Vincent Knauer, the
distinguished
specialist in Aristotelian and medieval philosophy, has something,
when he says
in his book, Fundamental Problems of Philosophy (Die Hauptprobleme der
Philosophie, Vienna, 1892):
A wolf, for instance, consists of no different material
constituents than a lamb; its material corporeality is composed of
assimilated
lambsflesh; yet the wolf does not become a lamb even if it eats
nothing but
lambs all its life. Whatever it is that makes it wolf, therefore, must
obviously be something other than the “Kyle”, the sensory material,
and that
something, moreover, cannot possibly be a mere “thought-thing”
even
though it is accessible to thought alone, and not to the senses. It
must be
something active, therefore actual, therefore eminently real.
How after all does one get round this objection on a strictly
anthropological view of what constitutes reality? It is not what is
transmitted
through the senses that produces the concept “wolf”. On the other hand
that
concept, as present in ordinary-level consciousness, is
certainly nothing
effective. Merely by the energy of that concept the conformation of
the
“sensory” materials contained in a wolf could certainly not be brought
about.
The fact is that, with this question, anthropology comes up against
one of its
frontiers of knowledge. Anthroposophy demonstrates that, besides
the
relation of man to wolf, which is there in the sensory field, there is
another
relation as well. This latter does not, in its immediate specificity,
reach
into ordinary-level consciousness. But it does subsist as a
living
continuity between the human mind and the sensuously observed object.
The
vitality that subsists in the mind by virtue of this continuity is by
the
systematic understanding subdued, or benumbed, to a “concept”. An
abstract idea
is a reality defunct, to enable its representation in
ordinary-level
consciousness, a reality in which the human being does in fact live in
the
process of sense perception, but which does not become a conscious
part of his
life. The abstractness of ideas is brought about by an inner necessity
of the
psyche. Reality furnishes man with a living content. Of this living
content he
puts to death that part which invades his ordinary consciousness. He
does so
because he could not achieve self-consciousness as against the
outer
world if he were compelled to experience, in all its vital flux, his
continuity
with that world. Without the paralysing of this vital flow, the human
being
could only know himself as a scion comprised within a unity extending
beyond
the limits of his humanity; he would be an organ of a larger
organism.
The manner in which the mind suffers its cognitive process to
peter out into the abstractness of concepts is not determined by a
reality
external to itself. It is determined by the laws of development of
man’s own
existence, which laws demand that, in the process of perception, he
subdue his
vital continuity with the outer world down to those abstract concepts
that are
the foundation whereon his self-consciousness grows and
increases. That
this is the case becomes evident to the mind, once it has developed
its organs
of spirit. By this means that living continuity with a spiritual
reality lying
outside the individual, which was referred to on pp. 38/9, is
reconstituted.
But, unless self-consciousness had been purchased in the first
place from
ordinary level consciousness, it could not be amplified to intuitive
consciousness. It follows that a healthy ordinary-level
consciousness is
a sine qua non of intuitive consciousness. Anyone who supposes that he
can
develop an intuitive consciousness without a healthy and active
ordinary-level
consciousness is making a very great mistake. On the contrary, normal
and
everyday consciousness has to accompany an intuitive consciousness at
every
single moment. Otherwise self-consciousness will be impaired and
disorder
introduced into the mind’s relation to reality. It is to this kind of
consciousness
alone that anthroposophy looks for intuitive cognition; not to any
sedating of
ordinary-level consciousness.