The Rudolf Steiner Archive

4. Anthroposophy as a Moral Impulse and a Force for Social Transformation

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! A very serious philosopher, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, spoke from the depths of his insight when he said: “The kind of philosophy one chooses depends on what kind of person one is.” — For a philosophy that seeks to address ethical, moral, and socio-moral perspectives from within its own field, such a statement is, upon closer examination, downright devastating. For if, in a sense, one’s highest insights—which are, after all, supposed to be philosophical—merely reflect what one already is as a moral and social being, then philosophy and worldview cannot, for their part, provide any impetus for morality and social life. And anyone who knows how to take such a statement seriously enough will, precisely on the basis of it, have to ask the significant question: How can insight, how can knowledge, in any way serve as an impetus for moral and social life? For in our time, scientific thinking—which permeates all the life forces of human beings—seems to want to exert a certain kind of authority over moral and social life as well. To me, therefore, this question seems to have a very special significance for our time, and for anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, it has this significance to an even greater degree. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science aims to be an active force in life. And how could it become one if it were unable to find some kind of impetus for moral and social life—which surely encompass the greatest problems of our present age? Time and again, however, one is reminded of the particular nature of today’s scientific spirit whenever such a question is raised.

[ 2 ] This scientific spirit, in fact, seeks to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte’s dictum. Today’s scientific spirit, which has developed a way of thinking and methods particularly suited to external nature—which is independent of human beings—seeks to deliver results that cannot be said to correspond to human nature. And indeed, it would be quite plausible today for someone to say: Anyone who forms a worldview as a chemist, or as a physicist, will be compelled by the objectivity of their perspective to develop something that is, in a sense, valid for all human beings—something of which one cannot say that it resembles, in its nature, what humanity as a whole is like. In a sense, independent of the moral or any other state of the soul, that which constitutes objective scientificity must flourish.

[ 3 ] One might say: This scientific approach has risen to its greatest triumphs in recent centuries, particularly in the very last century. Not that one would want to believe that even a sophistically oriented spiritual science still holds this significance to such a high degree. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science aims to be an active force in life. And how could it become that if it could not find some impulses for morality and for social life—which surely encompass the greatest problems of our present time? Yet time and again, when such a question is raised, one is reminded of the particular nature of today’s scientific spirit.

[ 4 ] This scientific spirit, in fact, seeks to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte’s dictum. Today’s scientific spirit, which has developed a way of thinking and methods that are particularly suited to external nature—which is independent of human beings—seeks to deliver results that cannot be said to reflect human nature. And indeed, it would be quite plausible today for someone to say: Anyone who forms a worldview as a chemist, or as a physicist, will be compelled by the objectivity of their perspective to develop something that is, in a sense, valid for all human beings—something of which one cannot say that it resembles, in its nature, what humanity as a whole is like. In a sense, independent of the moral or any other state of the soul, that which is objective scientific knowledge must flourish.

[ 5 ] One could say: This scientific approach has risen to its greatest triumphs in recent centuries, particularly in the very last century. Not that one would want to believe that even a sophistically oriented spiritual science still holds this significance to such a high degree. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science aims to be an active force in life. And how could it become that if it were unable to find impulses for morality and social life—which surely encompass the greatest problems of our present age? Yet time and again, when such a question is raised, one is reminded of the particular nature of today’s scientific spirit.

[ 6 ] This scientific spirit, in fact, seeks to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte’s dictum. Today’s scientific spirit, which has developed a way of thinking and methods particularly suited to external nature—which is independent of human beings—seeks to deliver results that cannot be said to correspond to human nature. And indeed, it would be quite plausible today for someone to say: Anyone who forms a worldview as a chemist, or as a physicist, will, by virtue of the objectivity of their perspective, be compelled to develop something that is, in a sense, valid for all human beings—something of which one cannot say that it resembles, in its nature, what humanity as a whole is. In a sense, independent of the moral or any other state of the soul, that which constitutes objective scientificity must flourish.

[ 7 ] One could say: This scientific approach has risen to its greatest triumphs in recent centuries, particularly in the very last century. Not that one would want to believe that these people actually speak in such a way as to say: “You cannot build social life on moral principles.” It was considered the foremost axiom in socialist circles of recent times that any attempt to derive social life from moral or socially conceived maxims was an illusion. And the socialists’ outlook was, in fact, nourished by this axiom. It was said that what really mattered was not how any particular class or any individual person thought about what should actually happen socially, but rather that one must turn to those people whose selfishness—whose entirely natural, elemental selfishness—is what shapes the world exactly as it must be shaped—and that is the proletarian demand. With that, I would say, precisely in the spirit of modern science, every moral principle and every social view not based on egoism was eliminated. And as long as, on the one hand, people fail to recognize the significance this has for the entire course of world history in recent times, and, on the other hand, refuse to see how our social hardships do, in fact, stem from people’s feelings and ways of thinking, we will not be able to address in any meaningful way what our time so desperately needs in this regard.

[ 8 ] The scientific mindset of modern times is thus powerless in the face of moral and social impulses; this is simply demonstrated by the historical course of events. That which emanates from this mindset, however, flows—through a certain social necessity—into the minds of the broadest classes of people. It is from this mindset that even those who understand nothing of science—who have not even arrived at science—pass judgment on the social realities of this world. What does this mean in this case? Social realities are viewed in such a way that, just as in the shaping of science, one effectively excludes everything that must, in a healthy sense, appear as a social and moral evaluation of any fact for humanity. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wishes to take this fact into account in a very special way. It seeks, as a form of knowledge—which, on the one hand, appears entirely in the spirit of modern science—to become at the same time a force capable of unleashing such moral impulses within the individual human being that these moral impulses can take effect in a socially beneficial way. But then the anthroposophical spiritual orientation must lead—I would say—to incorporating the moral and the social into the perspective that people develop toward world phenomena in such a way that it becomes visible.

[ 9 ] In the lecture given earlier, it was humorously illustrated to you how, within our socio-economic life, people are talked into buying all sorts of things, and how these people then add the things they’ve been talked into buying to their household goods. Such things must be viewed in terms of their symptomatology, and they are seen in this light only when, starting from them, one can draw connections to the major events of world history. For if it were not the case that people allowed peddlers to talk them into buying these things, then that which was described to us at the end—the horrific militarization of economic life—would not exist either; for these things are interconnected in social life.

[ 10 ] What matters is seeing, in immediate reality, that which truly has an effect. And I would like—prompted, so to speak, by the humorous description given earlier—to present to your mind an image that came to me regarding the way in which such peddling seems antisocial—and, I dare say, immoral.

[ 11 ] I was once at a fair where a merchant was selling large quantities of soap. Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is truly a perspective that leads to social awareness—it must inspire the human spirit to strive toward a life in which soap is offered that one can actually use to wash oneself. But that was completely out of the question with the bars of soap offered by this merchant. Those who tried them later very soon gave up on the idea of washing with them regularly. But the merchant did a roaring business, and I’ll tell you how he managed to do it. He had large bales of such soap standing next to him. He stood on a platform; first, he took a number of bars of soap from the first bundle. Now he was, in the best sense of the word, what one might call a presentable man. Using the most wonderful turns of phrase, he presented the excellence of his soap to his audience, and through everything he did at the outset, he created the impression that this must be particularly valuable soap—the kind worth paying a good price for. And then he sold about ten bars of soap, one by one, at a very high price per bar. This price was paid by those who happened to have the money in their pockets at that moment, and they were very happy to have obtained such good soap; for they recognized the quality of the soap by the high price. Now they stood there. As a figure of authority, the man had achieved what he set out to do, and he was no longer interested in continuing to be that figure of authority. So afterward he said: “Oh, the way I’ve been selling these bars of soap so far—that’s far too expensive! These bars of soap are really only worth half the price.” From now on, I’ll sell them for half the price.” — And now he once again had as his customers the very audience he could convince that he was such a good man that he was selling the soap cheaper than the first buyers—who were still standing there—had paid. They didn’t complain, but—forgive the harsh expression—they were left speechless. But then, when he still had quite a few bars of soap left from the first bundle, he said: “But I’m a good person, after all; I’m not going to sell this last bar of soap at all—I’m going to throw it away.” — And so he threw the whole bar of soap into the crowd, and the people were able to pick it up for free.

[ 12 ] I’m not telling you this simply because it’s grotesque in itself, but because I discovered something else highly interesting in the process. All of this had happened, and the salesman moved on to his second bundle, and he did it exactly the same way again—in all three stages—and once again he managed to get his bars of soap out perfectly in all three stages!

[ 13 ] This strikes me as extremely symptomatic, ladies and gentlemen, because when I look at the major business transactions taking place in the world, and when I observe the consuming public and how it behaves in this context, I actually see all three stages constantly at play, and by observing these three stages, one can see just how inherently untenable our economic structure actually is. But it is precisely under the influence of the modern scientific spirit that this truly healthy, truly practical way of thinking has been lost. For practical thinking—which does not remain confined to routine but becomes a true purpose in life—must above all see reality in things, see what lies within them, not merely what unfolds outwardly before the eyes, and in which people can be beguiled with all manner of suggestions.

[ 14 ] Anthroposophical spiritual science is very often slanderously accused of seeking to exert some kind of suggestive power. In the example I told you about—which certainly did not originate with an anthroposophist—there was a great deal of the kind of suggestive power that is very common today, a suggestive power that knows its audience very well.

[ 15 ] In contrast, anthroposophical spiritual science seeks to offer something that, through its inner vitality, is capable of effectively penetrating social and ethical contexts—in a sense, to find within the human being something that may be as expressed in Fichte’s statement: that it is of the same nature as the human being itself, yet at the same time can be effective within the moral and social world. But if one truly wishes to grasp what lives within spiritual science, then, my esteemed audience, one must make some effort; and therefore, allow me—merely to illustrate my train of thought today—to address something that, in a completely objective manner and without any regard for individual personalities, can shed some light on this train of thought from a certain perspective.

[ 16 ] You see, when I spoke about this in Stuttgart—namely, that I consider Count Hermann Keyserling’s remarks about me to be a lie—people from various quarters believed that I was personally offended, that I was speaking about such a matter for some personal reason. But that was not the case at all, for I can give you my most sincere assurance: I couldn’t care less what Count Hermann Keyserling thinks of me; that is of no consequence to me; a personal attack is not what matters to me here. But what matters to me is something else: what matters to me is to examine the phenomena that arise in our lives in terms of their ethical and moral value. And in that regard, I must say the following: I consider it one of the greatest achievements of modern scholarship that—if not always in practice, then at least in the theories as articulated—this modern scholarship tends toward the principle that one should not simply state what one subjectively holds to be true, but must absolutely acknowledge the obligation to first truly ascertain the truth of what one states.

[ 17 ] People usually fail to see that there is, in fact, something extraordinarily progressive about this statement; for anyone who is a historian or a natural scientist cannot and must not be content with the excuse that they heard this or that here or there, but is obligated to acknowledge the basis of truth for what they say. And this principle must find its way into our moral life, for if moral life is to be the foundation of social life, then morality must permeate objective truth—and not merely subjectively believed truth—because it is not this subjectively believed truth that has an effect on social life, but only truth experienced objectively. One must say: We live today in an age in which the division between knowledge and belief has led to a situation where, whenever anyone asserts something they believed to be true—which later turns out to be an objective falsehood—they excuse themselves by saying that a person is entitled to assert what they hold to be true to the best of their knowledge and conscience. — Ladies and gentlemen, this principle opens the door for every conceivable objective untruth to enter public life, and only by combating this principle can morality be brought into our social life—and into our business life and our entire economic life as well. Therefore—because I always wish to uphold that spirit of truth which is necessary for anthroposophy on the one hand, and for modern life as a whole on the other—I had to assert this spirit of truth in the face of what has arisen on the side I have described. I was interested in this as a cultural phenomenon, not as a personal matter, and as a cultural phenomenon, it actually leads to that deeper concept of truth that we so desperately need today.

[ 18 ] You see, it is easy to say that Count Hermann Keyserling is not at all an opponent of anthroposophy. Count Hermann Keyserling once wanted to prove to me himself that he was not an opponent of anthroposophy, and so he wrote me a long letter some time ago. But this long letter was written in a handwriting I could not read; the lines that ran across were constantly crossed out by others, the letters were extremely sloppy and careless, and I really could not bring myself to finish reading this letter. Anyone who can judge the world and human beings not according to arbitrary principles but according to inner, essential symptoms could say to themselves—this handwriting is, of course, not the justification I wish to offer for the underlying facts, but it is a symptom—: this handwriting, and the manner in which such a letter was produced, does not provide the human foundation for what certain quarters attribute to Count Hermann Keyserling. And when one then approaches his works, one finds something—one finds precisely what I now express as my own conviction: If Count Hermann Keyserling were to say that he is a thoroughly cunning opponent and enemy of anthroposophy, ladies and gentlemen, I would believe him, and I would find that entirely justified; for the person who writes Count Keyserling’s books cannot be a follower of anthroposophy, nor can he be an objective judge of it. But if he does say that he is not an opponent, then he is simply stating an objective untruth. When Count Hermann Keyserling says he is not an opponent of anthroposophy, that is far more indicative of his insincerity to me than if he were to honestly say that he must be an opponent. For I recognize that there must be opponents; but the fact that there are people—numerous people, who are even becoming fashionable today—who, as an outward truth, simply state the opposite of what is now their inner truth, runs counter to the principle of anthroposophy, which holds that one must look everywhere to the inner truth and not to the outward truth, which is then no truth at all, but only an apparent truth.

[ 19 ] I wanted to emphasize this, my esteemed audience, so that people do not continually misunderstand the innermost impulse of the anthroposophical outlook, and so that they may know that this anthroposophical outlook strikes a chord with the present-day world, and it claims not merely to repeat what has already been said in the same sense, but to say it in a way demanded by the spirit of the times; and this spirit demands that we even learn to think anew about lies and truth.

[ 20 ] But this is the one and only thing that can guide us when we approach such an important issue as anthroposophy as a moral and social force for transformation. For here we must take into account the fact that anthroposophy not only embraces this modern scientific attitude, this modern scientific spirit, as its own, but also nurtures what already lies as a seed within modern science, developing this seed more and more, whereas modern science itself fails to bring this seed to full development. Therefore, my esteemed audience, anthroposophy is, in its beginnings, quite like modern science; but precisely because it grasps the inner essence of this modern science, it leads, in its further development, to a point where it is no longer merely the facts of external nature that are to be understood, but also the facts of inner human life—for example, the instincts or the will.

[ 21 ] And there is no other way for us to grasp, on the one hand, the true essence of anthroposophy and, on the other hand, to recognize the moral and social impulses of anthroposophy, than by realizing how the [scientific] spirit—which otherwise grasps only the external facts of nature—can now, through a process of transformation and metamorphosis, extend itself into what the human being is, for example, in his instincts and in his impulses of will; for this is connected with the very character of our present epoch, which began around the 15th century and in which we still find ourselves today. In the 15th century, the first seeds of the modern scientific spirit were sown, and this modern scientific spirit—I cannot elaborate further on this now, though I have done so extensively elsewhere—had to develop in a one-sided manner at first. It had to shape the inner constitution of the soul in such a way that it would be suited to tracing the connections between external natural phenomena in accordance with laws. In order for this one-sided force of human soul life—despite all its one-sidedness—to develop powerfully, the other forces of human life and human organization had to be set aside for a time.

[ 22 ] Initially, what developed in a one-sided way was the force that led human beings to replace an old, instinctive inner life with a conscious one. People may rant and rave as much as they like about how human beings have lost their naivety as a result, or how consciousness has taken the place of the old instinctive nature. Such ranting has no more value than complaining that one used to be 20 years old and looked a certain way, and is now older. These things cannot be criticized; they must simply be recognized as necessary. From the fifteenth century onward, humanity had to transition into consciousness, and it did so initially in the realm of the imaginative life. But even this imaginative life was formerly embedded within the instinct-driven life. Anyone who truly understands the entirety of civilizational and cultural life that preceded the fifteenth century—including Greek civilization—knows how all the forces of the human soul at that time operated out of the instinctive realm, and how even what was called “science” in a certain sense, operated much more out of the instinctive, out of the instinct-driven constitution of the human soul, compared to today. And within this instinct-driven constitution of the human soul—in which a cosmic necessity transcending the individual was at work—a kind of threefold structure of social life had, to a large extent, emerged by the 15th century as people acted within social life. The instincts have, I would say, with a natural certainty—if I may use this somewhat imprecise expression—been at work. People have integrated themselves into the social organism out of their instincts, and through what they did in the process, what they brought about—whether in this or that social position, which arose precisely because people acted out of their instincts—a certain structuring of the social organism emerged, directed toward the spiritual sphere, the legal-state sphere, and the economic sphere.

[ 23 ] This threefold division, which today must be spoken of consciously, was—even if this is not immediately apparent to some people today who simply do not grasp the threefold division— it was, in essence, present; and the human being of the instinctive age, by feeling himself placed within social life, received what he needed to satisfy his needs of imagination, [his spiritual needs], and his needs of the will—he received this from a spiritual element of the social organism, from a political-legal element, and from an economic element. In reality, they existed in a relationship that humanity at that time understood based on its instincts and that could satisfy it in accordance with its predispositions. Of course, this old structure is of no use to us today.

[ 24 ] But then came the modern era. It was a time when people developed their imaginative life in a one-sided way. This was the first half of the 15th century, the 16th and 17th centuries, and to some extent even the 18th century. Beneath the life of the imagination that had entered into consciousness, what remained as a legacy of the ancient instincts still smoldered on. And I would say that something instinctive was still at work in the moral and social spheres, even as human beings moved through this world and observed what was now emerging from their fully conscious life of the imagination. But since then, since the 18th century, these instincts have completely faded away, and all that remains are abstract traditions. After all, we do not live today with a morality and justice in the social world that arise from elemental forces; because the instincts that once established social orders are no longer active, we actually live in this realm through traditions. And no matter how much Marxists may believe they live according to Marxism—they actually live within the most ancient traditions, as can already be seen from the fact that they always seek to explain the conditions of social life by referring to the prehistory of savage and barbaric peoples.

[ 25 ] This is what has developed up to the present day. This, my esteemed audience, has also led to the situation where people now seek to approach social and moral life solely through their imagination—which has been developed one-sidedly—and where, alongside this, moral and social institutions have arisen out of old tradition, for which only traditions remain, with which human life in its reality is no longer connected at all. And while instinct—the instinct-driven state of the soul—has, out of a world necessity, placed the spiritual alongside the legal and the economic, the still-underdeveloped life of the imagination—the one-sidedly developed life of the imagination—now lacks the ability to grasp this structure of the social organism. What a person can think and what traditions they have are chaotically jumbled together. They lack the impetus to discern the proper characteristics of spiritual, legal-political, and economic life, and in recent times they have mixed them all together into a chaotic jumble in every sphere of the state.

[ 26 ] This chaos is the latest phase in the development of the social organism. The individual, placed within the social order, seeks—by virtue of his human nature—to receive from spiritual life what it can give him only in its freedom; he wishes to receive from political and legal life what it can give him only when all people who have attained maturity have a say, and from economic life what it can give him only when it is organized into associations based on practical and technical knowledge. Everything that a human being, in accordance with his nature, can receive only from a properly structured social organism, he is expected to receive today from chaos, from a chaotic configuration of this social organism.

[ 27 ] But that, my esteemed audience, is the deepest root cause of the crisis we find ourselves in today; for everything you can describe in the realm of the school system, in the realm of free intellectual life—insofar as it has still retained its freedom— everything you can describe in the realm of business life and other sectors of the economy—all of these are specific crises in comparison to the great crisis, [which consists in] the fact that human beings today, without the masses actually realizing it, are caught up in a social chaos that fundamentally rejects their innermost essence. And this rejection manifests itself in the revolutionary, socially revolutionary forces of the present. And as long as people fail to recognize that the basis for our current global crisis lies in this modern-day inability of human beings to comprehend the structure of the social organism, they will also be unable to understand the forces within this global crisis that are working toward improvement.

[ 28 ] Within the threefold social order, however, there is one sphere that functions differently from the others: the economic sphere. Economic life, which produces goods according to human needs, is subject to a certain necessity. These needs arise. This economic life still essentially derives its social impulses in the same way it once did, according to old traditions. People must be mindful of this. There, they have no freedom; there, they have no room for arbitrariness. With regard to legal and political life, and especially with regard to spiritual life, however, people can divert their attention from what is truly in accordance with their nature; and for the reasons I have stated, modern humanity has turned its attention away from the organization of the social organism. Thus it has become apparent that this turning away initially led only to the neglect of progress in spiritual and legal life; but that economic life, as was inevitable given this neglect, had to proceed in the one-sided manner in which it could. And so today we have a public mindset that, fundamentally speaking, pays no attention to spiritual life or the life of the constitutional state, but continues to operate within old forms and traditions, and allows itself to be compelled by natural economic necessities to view everything it contemplates—whether at conferences, other gatherings, or in decisions regarding war and peace—solely in the light of this economic life.

[ 29 ] And what truly enabled human beings in the past to intervene in social life were, after all, the instincts; it was the will. Anthroposophy shows us how human beings, through the workings of their will and their instincts, continually draw from the subconscious, just as they draw strength from sleep, which is also a subconscious state. Anthroposophical insight must place what a person experiences with regard to the very essence of their will in direct parallel with what they call sleep. It is a sleep that we constantly carry within us as we allow our impulses of will to act from the unconscious, just as the revitalizing forces that enter our lives arise from what we gain in sleep. But with regard to social life, this unconscious state was possible only for a certain period of time; it has not been possible since the middle of the 15th century.

[ 30 ] And here, the natural sciences succumb to a great, a colossal illusion: they wish to explain everything scientifically; they wish to subject human beings as well to this scientific explanation; and based on the principles they have formulated regarding natural facts, they now wish to explain instinct and the will. It constructs conceptions of instinct and will that are, in reality, merely extensions of its conceptions of external natural existence. But the anthroposophical contemplation of the spirit shows us that instinct and will, in their deeper essence, are rooted in the spiritual and not in the natural realm—which is the sole realm we can reach through natural science. Instinct and will are rooted in the spirit; they are merely integrated into the human being. They reveal themselves in the human being within a natural shell. Natural science penetrates solely to this natural shell; it does not penetrate at all to the actual essence of instinct and will. But by taking the path from external natural science to a spiritual science, anthroposophy makes it possible not merely to see through the shell, the covering of instinct and will, but to perceive the true essence of instinct and will. And in doing so, it does not merely bring what acts as instinct and will into abstract thought; rather, the essence of instinct and will enters the life of the imagination as a living reality. Anthroposophy begins, like the most modern scientific approach, as knowledge; as it continues on its path, it leads to life, guiding the human being to immerse themselves in those depths where instinct and will are spiritually rooted in the spirit. Because it is something living, it may say with Fichte: “The view one forms depends on what kind of person one is”—for it achieves, through its liveliness, the ability to act in the sense of this statement and yet still bear fruit for moral and social life.

[ 31 ] The kind of mind one has, my esteemed audience, depends to a certain extent on the nature of the rest of the human organism. But if one focuses solely on what lives in the head, one fails to grasp the rest of the organism; then the rest of the organism appears as something unknown. Thus, what operates in the will beneath the life of the imagination still appears as something unknown to the modern scientific mind. So if modern science operates in a way that corresponds to human nature, it does not penetrate—and therefore does not experience—what lies in the human nature of the will, for it does not penetrate this human nature of the will. As anthroposophy ascends from knowledge to full life, it flows with the whole of human consciousness into the stream of instinct and will, making these themselves conscious, and through this one gains the possibility of working not only on one’s thinking but on one’s whole being. But then, when we have a science that works on the whole human being, what arises in the other human being while we think is precisely what may in turn influence this thinking. Then knowledge and life function as an organic whole, where one conditions the other simultaneously, not one after the other. Then, within this organic interplay, philosophy—including the philosophy of ethics and the philosophy of morality—may be whatever human beings can make of them by virtue of their nature.

[ 32 ] These, my esteemed audience, are the things that must be considered if one wishes to recognize anthroposophy as a moral and social impulse. This is what anthroposophy believes it has to say in this regard to our time, and it feels a duty to convey this message to our time. And it must be convinced that the possibility of replacing the forces that weigh us down with uplifting forces will not arise until people resolve, when discussing economic issues, to consider what benefits spiritual life and what benefits the legal system, until, when discussing economic issues, they have a genuine heart for that which alone can become just, and which can spring only from the harmony of all people who have come of age in an independent legal life, until they have a deep sense that genuine spiritual life can flourish only when it is left to its own devices, that the three can work together—as they once did instinctively—only when consciousness finds its way out of the human being to the mysteries of the world, to which it once found its way when it still acted merely instinctively.

[ 33 ] This will be the time when people no longer admired by the world—such as Woodrow Wilson (at least he was, even if he is no longer)—will justify the state’s administration of school education by saying that only the state is capable of creating the conditions of freedom necessary for the free individual to live. — Well, ladies and gentlemen, the kind of freedom they wish to allow here is one that is conditional—that is, made necessary by state institutions.

[ 34 ] And Woodrow Wilson goes on to say in his major book The State, published in 1889: the state must not relinquish control of the schools, for what the state needs for its power and for its authoritative effectiveness, it can best achieve through its control of school education.

[ 35 ] Well, my esteemed audience, anyone who understands what freedom of intellectual life should and must be must rebel against the maxim that states: “The state must instill in children whatever it needs for its own preservation”—for in saying this, it is effectively declaring: “The state must establish in schools that which is not freedom of intellectual life, but rather the deepest form of intellectual bondage.”

[ 36 ] As long as scientists do not also have an eye—an eye of the soul—for the need to look upward toward what one thinks about the spiritual and the legal, there can be no improvement in our present moral life—which underlies social life—nor in social life itself; for we need not only a critique of the old moral instincts and a critique of the old social concepts, we need the creation of new moral impulses and new social impulses. But because they are rooted in the spirit, these can only come about through a science, through a form of knowledge which, by spiritualizing human knowledge itself, is also capable of penetrating the spiritual world.

Question and Answer

[ 37 ] Ladies and gentlemen! At the kind suggestion of Baron Rosenkrantz, our friends have posed a number of questions, which we will now address within the framework of this event.

[ 38 ] Before that, however, since the request has been made so often—and I have even personally asked a few friends—I would like to say that I am asking the artists present here, as well as a few others who have never seen the wooden sculpture group (which is still a work in progress), to please come to the studio over there tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. The group will be on display then. However, I ask that you take this matter very seriously, and I truly ask that only those who have never seen the group before come.

[ 39 ] I have now been given a number of questions.

Question: If the content of a work of art is what matters most, why can't we express it in accordance with the Greek ideal?

[ 40 ] Dr. Steiner: The question isn’t phrased very clearly. I’d like to think it alludes to what I’ve often said regarding Goethe’s conception of art, which was expressed by the fact that Goethe, upon arriving in Italy, wrote to his friends in Weimar: When I look at these Greek works of art, I believe that the Greeks, in creating their works of art, followed the same laws that nature itself follows—and which I am seeking to uncover. I would just like to note that if it is possible for human beings to truly immerse themselves—in the manner I have indicated on various occasions while discussing this building—in a shared and re-experiencing of nature’s creative forces, then we do not, in fact, become imitators of nature, but rather create with our materials in the same way that nature creates. One need only consider that, from the perspective of the full human sensibility, we should not even aspire to imitate nature, for whatever we encounter in nature—whether in the landscape or elsewhere—is always rendered more perfectly by nature than even the most perfect artist could achieve. Art is justified only if, in the Goethean sense, it does not merely copy nature but, drawing on the same forces from which nature creates, continues nature’s work. And when we create in this way, we can create in harmony with nature just as the Greeks did. We must simply be clear that humanity does not pass through various stages of development in vain—just as the individual human being does not—but that our present-day humanity has different developmental impulses than those of the people of the Greek era. What the Greeks possessed in their own way, in harmony with nature, exists for us in a different form; and if we acknowledge and understand this metamorphosis of humanity’s entire coexistence with nature, then we can certainly say that what we create is just as much “[created in accordance with the laws of nature]” as the Greek works of art are.

Question: If we can take beautiful colors from nature, why shouldn't we be able to take beautiful shapes from nature as well?

[ 41 ] Dr. Steiner: I wouldn’t be able to see the point of that either. I would simply ask that you once again take into account how I have repeatedly spoken about colors in connection with this building, and how I spoke about forms in my lecture on art. It is not a matter of imitating what is inartistic—which is characteristic of our present, inartistic age—but rather of not imitating the colors of nature, but rather experiencing them anew. After all, we experience color inwardly and then create from within the world of color. Likewise, we can of course also experience form from within ourselves, and then we will create forms just as they appear to us in nature. But one must bear in mind that when we draw, we are actually called upon not to imitate the forms of nature, but to recreate them. We must draw the surfaces.

[ 42 ] It is, after all, a fact of nature itself that the horizontal line, when we draw it, is a falsification—I called it a lie a few days ago. What we see is the blue sky, the green sea, and the form is the result of color. This is already present in nature, and when we work artistically with color, the form emerges just as it does in nature itself.

Question: Should color be used in painting from a moral perspective?

[ 43 ] Dr. Steiner: If I understand the question correctly, it asks whether, when one has a moral intention, one should try to translate that moral intention into color or into color harmony.

[ 44 ] I believe that anyone who attempts in this way to embody human-moral concepts in color is, in fact, creating in an unartistic manner. In color, one can embody only those spiritual elements that can be experienced as spiritual within the world of color itself. To the extent that one first has a moral intention and then seeks to artistically shape this morally conceived idea, one falls into symbolism; and allegorization is always unartistic.

[ 45 ] To illustrate what I actually mean, I would like to say the following: I was once compelled, for the purposes of a performance of Faust here, to reconstruct the forms of the Cabiri, the Samothracian gods, and the Samothracian mysteries. They had to be depicted while Goethe’s text was being recited. I believe that I was able to truly reconstruct these Cabiri out of spiritual vision. Then—and I say this not out of immodesty, but because a fact needs to be stated—one of our members expressed a desire to also possess these Cabiri, which had been well-received, and they were to be photographed. Now, I find the act of photographing a sculptural work so appalling that I actually want to run away before taking any photograph of a sculpture, because what is truly created artistically is created precisely out of a spiritually experienced sense of material, and because it is impossible to directly experience what is conceived in spatial forms through a two-dimensional image. I therefore preferred at the time—because I wanted to accommodate this request—to recreate what I had produced as the three Kabiri once more, this time in black-and-white, and then it could be photographed.

[ 46 ] Anyone who thinks that moral intentions can be expressed through painting is thinking that one can take any content at all—I mean, treat it as one would in a novel—and then pour it into any medium. That is not true. It is artistically untrue. In any given medium, anything artistic can be created in only one way.

Question: Is it true that, in the future, sculpture will be meant to express inner feelings and painting inner wisdom?

[ 47 ] Dr. Steiner: I will now take the liberty of answering this question in connection with another question, since it is related to it.

Question: Under the influence of anthroposophical teachings, wouldn’t art tend to become monotonous, which wouldn’t be interesting? Isn’t there a danger that art would bear an anthroposophical stamp, as if from a particular school of painting? Dr. Steiner: If one grasps—truly grasps—what can genuinely emerge as art from the anthroposophical spiritual perspective, then, in my opinion, one will not even pose the question in this way, and one will not be led to believe that anthroposophy could ever aim to have art influenced by anthroposophical teachings. From an anthroposophical perspective, it is actually impossible to conceive of anything other than the artistic emerging from the experience of the spirit flowing through the material, from living in harmony with the material.

[ 48 ] In a somewhat primitive way, many anthroposophists interpret this matter such that, for example, they take what is given to them in the Rosicrucian teaching and somehow paint it on a board, and one then encounters these images in all the individual branches. There, inner feeling and inner intention are captured externally. I usually cope with such “artistic attempts” by not looking at them in the respective branches, for these are indeed primitive and limited—but also misguided—attempts to translate into some artistic form that which can be represented in the spirit, which then becomes a word, a teaching. That is nonsense. One cannot carry what is doctrine into a work of art.

[ 49 ] But what true anthroposophy is—whether one approaches it through its teachings or through its art—leads to the inner experience of something far more primordial than anthroposophical teachings or anthroposophical art, something that lies deep within the human being. If, on the one hand, one creates artistic forms that have nothing at all to do with anthroposophical teachings, and then, on the other hand, one focuses on the word, on the thought, one creates connections of ideas from the very same foundations. Both are branches that spring from a single root. But one cannot take one branch and insert it into the other.

[ 50 ] In any case, I cannot conceive that a life shaped by such artistic development could lead to monotony, because—and I’m just speaking illustratively here—I can assure you that if, after this building is finished, I were to build another one, it would be completely different; it would look entirely different. I would never be able to build this structure again in a monotonous way; and I would build a third one differently as well—though that certainly won’t happen in this incarnation. But I feel precisely in what lies at the heart of anthroposophy as a living force that it transcends all monotony in art. I can tell you, one can only ever hope to use one’s abilities to respond to what stands before the soul—and to show, not in a monotonous way but with great diversity, precisely what one wishes to show.

[ 51 ] The questions that were asked in English have now been answered, and since Mrs. Mackenzie has promised me that she would like to say a few words here about certain intentions she has, I believe we may use the time we have left to hear Mrs. Mackenzie speak about her intentions.

Mrs. Mackenzie: (Remarks in English not transcribed)

[ 52 ] Dr. Steiner: I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to Mrs. Mackenzie and ask Baron Walleen to translate these words into German.

Baron Walleen: (Translation:) Dr. Steiner has given his approval for a seminar for teachers to be held here around Christmas. Mrs. Mackenzie has taken on the responsibility of identifying individuals in England and America who seem suitable as students for these seminars, and Mrs. Mackenzie’s hope is that, once such a start is made, we might gradually arrive at the point where a seminar for training teachers for the whole world could be established here. The matter is being handled quite informally to save time, so that upon her return to England, Mrs. Mackenzie will immediately attempt to contact those individuals whom she deems suitable to attend this course. It would be important to clarify early on—as early as October—which individuals are able and willing to come here. Of course, Dr. Steiner himself will lead the course.

[ 53 ] Dr. Steiner: I would like to say just this very briefly in response to Mrs. Mackenzie’s remarks: if this extraordinarily satisfying plan can be realized, everything possible will be done here to ensure that those who are making such efforts to extend the influence of the Goetheanum into an important area are also rewarded. Thank you very much on behalf of our cause, and rest assured that every effort will be made here to carry out your intentions in a manner befitting their importance!