Johann Gottlieb Fichte
Sun-Clear Statement
Published by Good Press, 2021
EAN 4064066466251
Table of Contents
Preface
Certain friends of transcendental idealism, or of the System of the Science of Knowledge, have attached to this system the name of the newest philosophy. Although this looks somewhat like a satire, and seems to presuppose in those who originated it a search after a very newest philosophy, and although the author of that system is clearly convinced that there is only one science of philosophy as there is only one science of mathematics; and that as soon as this only possible philosophy has been discovered and recognized no newer philosophy can arise, and all previous so-called philosophies will be regarded as only preliminary attempts to establish that science: he nevertheless has preferred the use of that expression in the title of a popular work like the present to the risk of using such unpopular names as "Transcendental Idealism," or "The Science of Knowledge."
Many reasons make it necessary and proper to render an account to the public at large, which has not made the study of philosophy its particular business, concerning the latest attempts to raise philosophy to the dignity of a science. True, not all men are to devote their life to a study of the sciences, and hence not either to a study of the science of all other sciences—a scientific philosophy: and to cultivate this science successfully requires, moreover, a freedom of mind, an industry and a talent which can be found only in a few. Nevertheless it is equally true that every one who claims but an ordinary intellectual culture should know what this science of philosophy is; should know—though himself not joining in its investigations—what it proposes to investigate should know the limit which separates its field from the field which he himself occupies, although he himself does not enter the field, lest he might apprehend danger threatening from that world so utterly foreign and unknown to him, to the world wherein he dwells. He should know this, moreover, in order that he may not wrong scientific men, with whom he has, after all, to associate; or that he may not give bad advice to his friends, and dissuade them from a study the neglect whereof may be fraught with terrible consequences for them. All these reasons tend to show that men of culture should at least know what philosophy is not, what it does not propose to do, and what it cannot effect.
To produce this insight is not only possible, but even an easy matter. Scientific philosophy, although rising above the natural view of things, and above common sense, nevertheless stands with its foot upon the field of common sense, and starts from it—in the course of its progress, however, leaving it far behind. To perceive this foot of philosophy resting upon the field of the natural way of thinking, or to watch this its start from ordinary consciousness, is possible for every one who has but common sense, and possesses the attention which may be properly presupposed in every man of culture.
Such a report is moreover indispensable for a system which was preceded in time by an eclectic system (still in existence), that had abandoned all claim to a scientific method and to scientific preparatory studies, and invited every one to participate in its investigations who was able to add two and two; and indispensable at a time when the unscientific public is but too ready to take advantage of this invitation, and cannot be dissuaded from the opinion that philosophizing is done in the same manner as eating and drinking, and that each one has a vote on philosophical subjects who has the faculty of speech—at a time when this opinion has resulted in great disaster, dragging philosophical propositions and expressions, which can be understood only in a scientific philosophical system, before the jurisdiction of unscientific common sense and nonsense, thereby bringing philosophy not inconsiderably into bad repute; and when it will be found difficult to pick out, even from amongst real philosophical writers, half a dozen who know what philosophy really is, while others, who seem to know it, whine piteously because philosophy is only philosophy and nothing else; and at a time when even the most thorough of book critics imagine that they have inflicted no little disgrace upon the newest philosophy, by assuring the people that it is after all far too abstract ever to become the ordinary mode of thinking.
The author of this has not hesitated, at various times and in the most varied forms, to make such statements to these pretended art-colleagues. It seems he did not succeed, for he is still compelled to listen to that same old song. He now intends to try whether he can succeed with that public which is not philosophical, as the writer of this understands that term; he intends to show again, in the most comprehensible manner that he finds possible, what he has already shown at various times, and, as he believes, very comprehensibly, in some of his articles. Perhaps he may thus also succeed—at least mediately—in making himself understood to his colleagues of the faculty. Perhaps the honest and unprejudiced reader will become aware, having no philosophical professor's or author's celebrity to maintain, that philosophy needs certain abstractions, speculations and contemplations which he has never before made, and which, when he now tries to make them, do not turn out very satisfactorily; perhaps he will get the insight that this science of philosophy does not at all think or speak about what he ordinarily thinks or speaks; that it cannot contradict him, because it does not at all speak with, of, or concerning him; that all the words which he and that science use in common receive quite a different and, to him, utterly incomprehensible signification as soon as they enter the magic sphere of that science. Perhaps this honest and unprejudiced man will henceforth abstain quietly from speaking of philosophical matters, precisely as he abstains from discussing trigonometry, or algebra, unless he has studied those sciences; perhaps he will now, whenever the discussion turns upon philosophy, say quietly, "Let the philosophers settle that among themselves, it is none of my business; I shall attend to my vocation." When lay people shall have set an example of this fair abstinence, it may even be possible that men of learning will also cease to get indignant when they are told repeatedly not to talk about matters which they have not even read of.
In short, common opinion is that philosophy is inborn in man; and hence every one considers himself justified in discussing philosophical matters. How it may be with this inborn philosophy I shall not now investigate; suffice it to say, that my philosophy, which I surely ought to know better than any one, is not inborn, but must be acquired, learned; and can be judged only by those who have learned it. The former I shall proceed to show; the latter is its evident result.
It seems hard, it is true, and it is a thing which has always been received with ungracious mien, to deny to common sense the right to judge about matters which are also considered the ultimate end of philosophy—God, Freedom, and Immortality.