The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Anthroposophical Life-Gifts VI

[ 1 ] Spiritual science should, above all, be understood by those who have known it for some time in the sense that it also reveals to the soul how spiritual science, in the most intense sense, can be a active force in human life. Although this has been emphasized frequently, one cannot stress this aspect of the essence of spiritual science and its significance for our time often enough. Spiritual science is, in a sense, a science, and as such, one might say, it is still fragmentary at present, only partially established. What it may one day become can, at present, truly be present only in its very earliest stages.

[ 2 ] What I mean by this is spiritual science in terms of its content. Through it, one can learn about the nature of the human being, about the supersensible personality of the human being, insofar as this personality continues to exist beyond the gates of physical life—namely, birth or conception and death. Through this spiritual science, one can also learn about the evolution of the Earth and the world, about the connections between this evolution of the Earth and the world and the human being, and so on. Thus, through spiritual science—in a more comprehensive and all-encompassing way than is possible through external, sensory science, if I may put it that way—one can satisfy the human thirst for knowledge. One can find answers to questions that weigh heavily on the human soul, and so on.

[ 3 ] But apart from this substantive significance of spiritual science, there is another, fundamentally different one. This becomes apparent when we consider what can become of us—of our inner life, our mood, and our state of mind—when we engage with the thoughts and ideas that come to us from spiritual science. It could even be—and in the course of human history, what science has not been subject to this!—that some of what can and must be proclaimed today with the utmost conscientiousness as spiritual science, drawn from the sources of spiritual life, might later have to be corrected by the further progress of spiritual science itself, and that some things might take on a different form. Then perhaps one or another aspect of this spiritual science might take on a different content. But what it can become for the mood, for the state of our soul through its ideas and thoughts is not affected by this, and this is, after all, very much connected with certain fundamental characteristics of our present time in particular. Today, let us consider certain fundamental characteristics of our time, particularly with regard to the state of people’s souls. In doing so, let us focus on the four most important soul activities, which we know well from our reflections: human perception in relation to external sensory processes; imagination, through which we then process these external sensory impressions; feeling; and willing. After all, our soul life unfolds through perception, imagination, feeling, and willing from the moment we wake up until we fall asleep.

[ 4 ] First, perception. It is precisely with the soul’s eye, sharpened by spiritual science, that we can observe what has necessarily—and what I am saying is not a criticism, but merely a characterization—developed over the course of the last three to four centuries as a fundamental cultural trait of the human soul in the countries that are of interest to us. We ask ourselves what this is. One need only be a superficial observer of life to find that, with regard to their powers of perception—that is, with regard to the soul’s immediate relationship to the external world through the senses—people have reached the point where they need ever more vivid, intense, and fascinating impressions in order to be satisfied in terms of their sensory perception. Let those of you who are a bit older just think back to your youth for a moment. Compare some of the aspects of life in your youth—though this is much more striking if you go further back—that you could perceive around you with a similar aspect of life today, and ask yourselves to what extent what is called the drive, the inclination toward the sensational, has gotten out of hand. What, exactly, is this “sensationalism”? It stems from the fact that people today need powerful and excessively varied, purely sensory impressions in order to be gripped and captivated by the outside world. They want to be captivated by the outside world; they want to be seized and fascinated. The sensational has run rampant on an extraordinary scale. But something significant is connected to this. Through the prevalence of the sensational, the strength and energy of the human “I” are also altered. Ultimately, only spiritual science can lead to an understanding of what is at stake here; for it reveals what the perception of the external world actually is.

[ 5 ] If one reviews the philosophical literature, one will find that nothing is discussed more than the nature of external perception or sensation, whatever one chooses to call it. All sorts of theories have been put forward regarding what sensation and perception actually are within human physical and psychological life. I need not burden you with these. But the spiritual-scientific aspect of this matter should be pointed out.

[ 6 ] I have already—even here in Berlin, in a public lecture—suggested that scientific development in the 19th century and up to the present day has indeed achieved great things, great things in terms of understanding certain sensory relationships within the external world of facts. But it conceives of human development, in particular, as far too linear, far too simple. It imagines it simply as follows: Once there were only lower animals, then there were higher animals, then even higher ones, and from these, human beings ultimately emerged, so to speak, as the highest animal. However, human evolution is not that simple. This human being—as we have often pointed out—who, in his outward physical form, must appear to us as a reflection of the divine essence of the cosmos, can be described and conceived in a wide variety of ways. He can also be described and conceived—now with reference to certain views of the natural sciences—in such a way that we divide him into three parts: the head or sensory human—this is not entirely accurate, but since the principal senses are located in the head, one can say “head human”—then the torso human, and thirdly, the limb human. Of these three aspects of human nature, only the torso-human—the heart- and lung-human—is actually developed in the way that natural science conceives of it today. The head-human is not, in fact, undergoing progressive development; rather, it is regressing. The human head halts progressive development at a certain stage and causes it to regress. — I have been told repeatedly that such a concept is difficult to grasp, and people have asked how it can be made easier to understand. I have pointed out in various places how even the external facts of natural science, when correctly understood—one must then truly be a natural scientist, not merely following the model of certain contemporary scholars—corroborate what I am saying. Consider the human eye and compare it to the eyes of animals at a certain stage of development. You cannot say that human eyes are, in their external form, more complex than the eyes of animals at a certain stage of development. For that is not true. There are animals that have, inside their eyes—in places where we perceive nothing externally—structures such as the fan-shaped process and the sword-shaped process. These are specific organs within the eye; they are extensions of the blood vessels into the interior of the eye. Through these extensions of the blood vessels, there is an intimate interplay between the animal’s entire emotional life and its sensory life in the eye. The animal feels much more intensely in the eye than humans do. In humans, the sword-shaped process and the fan-shaped process are absent. The human eye is simplified. It is not merely developed forward; it is also regressed. And so one could demonstrate, right down to the smallest parts of the human head’s organization, that the human being is actually regressed with regard to the head, particularly in relation to the rest of human nature, which is developed forward.

[ 7 ] Someone who also thought that this regression of the head was a difficult concept to grasp asked me if there weren’t any clues that would help one understand it better. I said that one need only consider the following: In the evolutionary process of the animal kingdom, which culminates in the human being, the human being reaches a point where, at a certain stage of its development—during the embryonic period—its body hair regresses. Humans are hairless, but the head is generally one of the hairy parts of the body. The fact that humans revert to the animal kingdom in terms of the formation of their heads is also demonstrated by the regression of the head. This is a superficial, external characteristic. The internal signs speak much more clearly. I ask you to consider the full significance of these facts.

[ 8 ] Because the head is regressed—because development does not proceed in a straight line but rather recedes within the head, accumulating there—space is created for the soul-spiritual development of the human being. Those natural scientists who hold the view that the human soul-spiritual life is merely a result of the human physical organization do not, in fact, understand their own natural science correctly. They do not understand that, in order for the human being to bring his or her soul-spiritual life into existence, it is necessary for the physical organization not to sprout and flourish, but rather to withdraw. It subsides, recedes, making room for spiritual and psychological development. Where a person develops their spiritual and psychological aspects the most, physical development recedes.

[ 9 ] Once one has undergone spiritual and psychological development, one comes to realize inwardly that, simply through inner observation, one receives an answer to the question: What, in fact, is ordinary imagination and perception? What is ordinary waking life, into which imagination and perception are interwoven?

[ 10 ] With regard to the human head, perception and imagination—indeed, waking life in general—are a form of hunger. Human beings are organized in such a peculiar way that, in their inner equilibrium from the moment they wake until they fall asleep, the head—that is, their inner organization—is constantly hungry in relation to the rest of the body. Certain ascetics who seek to elevate their spiritual and mental life have taken advantage of this: they starve the entire body, believing that the process of starvation, extended to the whole body, is supposed to bring about certain inner illuminations. This is wrong. The normal state is that, during the waking process, our head is nourished less by internal processes than the rest of the organism, and it is only through this that we can be awake and imagine that the head is nourished less than the rest of the organism.

[ 11 ] This raises the question: If we are starving in our minds in this way while we surrender to this process of regression in the head—after all, during sleep the body attempts to relieve this congestion—what do we actually perceive then? — Through spiritual science, we learn to distinguish between two things that are always linked in practice but are in fact two entirely different things: first, mere waking life, and second, external perceptions and ordinary memories. What happens, then, when we experience mental hunger in our waking consciousness?

[ 12 ] First, on the one hand, we perceive our “I” from our previous incarnation. What we have brought with us from the spiritual world—that with which we entered into existence through birth or conception—we perceive when we are merely awake. This fills the space where our organism makes room. And when we perceive external sensory objects, these external objects take the place of the “I” that we would otherwise perceive when we have no external impressions but are merely awake. In ordinary life, these two things are intermingled; we are constantly perceiving external objects and are very rarely in a state of mind where we are merely awake. But our state of mind, which is directed toward external things, is always intertwined with the tendency to perceive our previous “I,” and to displace it with something—such as external colors or sounds—then to perceive the previous “I” again, and then the other once more. As soon as we perceive something externally—as soon as an external object acts upon us—it suppresses our “tendency, our power, to perceive the ‘I’ from our previous incarnation.” It remains unconscious; we are unaware of it. But within this sensory perception there is actually a struggle between the present object standing before us and the ‘I’ from our previous incarnation.

[ 13 ] Now you can imagine what it means to develop a craving for the sensational, to want to be devoted to the external world. This never makes one stronger in life, only weaker; for in doing so, one weakens the “I” from one’s previous incarnation, which, in a certain sense, is what constitutes our strength. Therefore, you can clearly perceive that a certain weakness in human nature arises with a person’s inclination toward the sensational, and that the “I” becomes weaker.

[ 14 ] And when we are not perceiving, but rather thinking or imagining, what is going on? Our thoughts are either silent—though this is rare in modern people—or they are linked to some external perceptions. When they are silent in waking life, then everything we have experienced between our previous incarnation and the present one is at work within us—in that part of us where space has been created by our organism. Thus, where perceptions arise, the previous incarnation is at work, and where imaginings arise, the life we experienced between death and our present birth is at work. When we develop powerful thoughts from within ourselves, this means: We are attempting to develop powerful thoughts based on what we have brought with us from the time before our last birth—the very things we must face on our own. If we develop only thoughts to which we allow ourselves to be stimulated from the outside—thoughts that seek to flood into our soul solely by our absorbing them from the outside—then we are constantly weakening what we have brought with us from the time between death and birth; and that is precisely what constitutes our “I.” A thirst for sensation weakens our present life. The craving to organize numerous club evenings with after-dinner drinks in order to draw as little as possible from within ourselves, or the excitement caused by playing skat—in short, all this seeking of stimulation from the outside—does not strengthen but rather weakens our “I,” and it is fundamentally based on the fact that one does not feel strong enough to engage with something arising from one’s own soul life. Through spiritual science, we can understand the underlying reasons why, in the present age, people are addicted to sensation and in need of stimulation.

[ 15 ] What enters our contemporary culture from this perspective can be described by a general term. Do not take offense at this term; it denotes a fundamental trait of many currents in contemporary life: narrow-mindedness, limited-mindedness. And no one will deny—not even when considering contemporary science or other fields of endeavor—that a defining characteristic of modern humanity is narrowness, that very narrowness which prevents modern people from seeking out the rich material within their own souls that comes from past lives and from the time before birth. After all, they do not believe—and above all, one would first have to believe—that one can be inspired by spiritual science in this regard.

[ 16 ] Let us consider, from this perspective, what the thoughts and ideas of the spiritual sciences can mean for the soul’s mood and state of being. They are certainly not external stimuli or sensationalism, nor do they aim to be. They do not captivate the senses through external sensations. Many people miss this. When it comes to spiritual science, people must think for themselves, and if they cannot draw anything from the depths of their own souls, they are likely to fall asleep while engaging with spiritual science. It is precisely the stirring and awakening of the soul’s life—so that one gains the ability to develop thoughts from within oneself—that spiritual science offers us. It counteracts sensationalism. It does so especially by giving us the ability to think deeply about a few sensory impressions. We do not need to rush from one sensation to the next. We can think deeply about all manner of sensory impressions. Everything simple that we personally encounter becomes a mystery to us. Every detail gives us much to think about. And the thoughts that many find so complicated—the thoughts about Saturn, the Sun, the Moon, the various Earth periods, and so on—they make the mind agile and, in a sense, prevent narrow-mindedness from taking hold. In this way, our spiritual science works against a certain cultural trait; it is a fighter against narrow-mindedness and narrow-mindedness in the realm of perception and imagination. This is something different from the content one can derive from this spiritual science; it is something it can do to our soul, and one should also pay attention to that.

[ 17 ] Now, with regard to emotional life: What is the most striking characteristic of a person who is even remotely open to spiritual science? And what is the most striking feature of most people who want nothing to do with it and reject it out of hand? For the latter, it is a lack of interest in the great affairs of the world. Expanding one’s interests beyond the most immediate concerns—that is what one must do first if one is to take an interest in spiritual science. For what do most people in our time care about what the Earth was before it became the Earth? What do most people today care about what our culture was like before it entered our era? To do this, one must develop broader interests. The point is to expand one’s interests beyond the immediate. Our era, after all, tends precisely toward limiting our sphere of interest as much as possible.

[ 18 ] Where is our era actually headed? Allow me to use the following expression—it is not meant as a compliment, but I do not wish to offer criticism, only a characterization: “Our age is striving by every means toward narrow-mindedness and philistinism, and if these come to grip with the majority of people, the consequence will be that philistinism will gradually make its way even into the most public spheres.” We have a curious example in this regard, which, for those who see through things, can have a truly heart-wrenching, soul-crushing effect with regard to the affairs of the present.

[ 19 ] In the East, we have a people who, in terms of the fundamental forces of their soul, are still in their infancy today, but who possess such fundamental forces that they are destined to develop to extraordinary heights in the future, in the sixth post-Atlantean cultural epoch—fundamental forces of the people that have a spiritual effect, possess a spiritual character, and should be recognized and nurtured as such. But what, strangely enough, has spread today as public life over a large part of this national force? Leninism! One cannot imagine anything more grotesque than the coupling of this—I am not referring to the man, but to the cause—cultural mimicry of the West and this cultural prophecy of the East. There cannot be two things that are further apart and yet are coupled together here. It is the most grotesque expression of materialistic striving; for something thoroughly anti-philistine is seeking to emerge from the folk power of the East, whereas Leninism is the most absolute fundamental force of philistinism—the rejection of all far-reaching cultural interests and the discussion of cultural interests within the narrowest confines of philistinism. One must make this clear to oneself. And nothing is better suited to seeing through these things than the insights of spiritual science alone. Spiritual science also works against philistinism by appealing to the broad, generous interests of human beings. For without an interest in what binds human beings to the cosmos—what transcends the narrowest confines and pulsates into the vast—without such an interest, one cannot become a spiritual scientist. — Thus, in the realm of emotional life, spiritual science is also the champion against philistinism and narrow-mindedness, which inevitably arise from materialism, just as it is the champion against narrow-mindedness and limitedness in the realm of perception and imagination.

[ 20 ] Now, the realm of volitional life. Here, too, anyone who observes life even a little can make remarkable observations in our lives. With regard to expressions of the will, it is not materialism itself, but rather what it brings in its wake, that leads to the development of something peculiar in human life as a whole. After all, the will must always express itself through the body if it is to act in relation to the external world. With regard to the will, today’s materialistic age is leading people into clumsiness. Because people, in their very earliest youth, are only able to direct their physical powers along very specific paths—working and maneuvering only in certain directions—they become clumsy in the broadest sense. There are already people today who, when they find themselves in such a situation, cannot even sew a button on their own pants, let alone do anything else—as strange as that may sound. For those who do not regard spiritual science as a theory or a doctrine, but who take in with their whole personality what works within it with warmth, it flows into their muscles, into the pulsation of their blood, and it makes them dexterous. And if we could instill this spiritual-scientific way of imagining in our children from the very beginning, we would see the results; we would see that the children become more capable, that they can do this or that more easily; their fingers would become more agile. The ability to make our mental images more agile also causes the will to become more agile in its means of expression. Thus, in the realm of the will, spiritual science is a champion against what threatens humanity: clumsiness. This clumsiness is, more than one might actually believe, a hallmark of our time. Just look at how little people today are capable of doing anything at all outside the narrowest confines of their profession. They are no longer capable of it at all; and in their professions, they function more or less because their soul paths have become set in their tracks. Place a person who is so thoroughly mechanized into their profession in front of something else, and you will see just how one-sided our culture is today. But this cannot be remedied by external means; for the national economy tends toward the specialization of everything. It would be nonsense to try to fight against this. But it is possible to strengthen the soul in such a way that a person receives the impulses of dexterity from the center of their being. For this, however, it is necessary to be thoroughly, truly imbued with knowledge of the supersensible world—primarily of the supersensible nature of the human being. One cannot understand perception and imagination—not even from a scientific standpoint—unless one knows what I said earlier: that the human organism makes room by holding back the activity of the head, so that the previous life and also the life between death and rebirth can flow in. But life after death, too, flows into our organism.

[ 21 ] As I have already said, the scientific views on human organization are far too one-sided. Only the “trunk human” could be viewed as one-sidedly as the natural sciences do; the “limb human” certainly cannot. When one considers the limbs—arms, hands, feet, legs—the organization continues inward—this limb organization is the inverse of the head organization: there is an overdevelopment. Development shoots far beyond the normal measure. If one were to study this development closely in relation to these conditions, one would see that it goes far beyond what a human being needs between birth and death. Let us consider just the external aspects: the organization of the arms in connection with the breasts, with the secondary sexual organs that serve reproduction; the legs in connection with the primary sexual organs; the extremities physically connected to that through which the human being already looks beyond themselves physically. At its core, the organization of the extremities serves not merely that which extends beyond the individual human life, but that where the human being looks beyond themselves—that is, the spiritual-soul aspect. What underlies the extremities in a spiritual-soul sense extends beyond what serves human life between birth and death. It already contains that which continues to work beyond death. Just as the human being physically extends from his own organization into that of the child through the center of his limb organization, so too is present within him, spiritually as imagination, that which he carries through the gateway of death by virtue of being a being with arms and legs. Through imaginative perception, one perceives this quite clearly: Human beings carry their future—which begins after death—quite clearly, even anatomically, in a spiritual-psychic sense, within the organization of their extremities. If one simply studies natural science properly, one will gradually cease to say: “Spiritual science is something that cannot be attained.” If one will only truly observe the human organism not in the simplistic way it is often portrayed, but as it actually is, then the necessity of turning to spiritual science will become apparent through natural science itself. There is, however, one thing humanity will have to overcome: the belief that all external sensory impressions are of the same nature. Today, it is not only the layperson who believes in the homogeneity of all external sensory impressions, but also the natural scientist who has a human being before him in the clinic and examines him anatomically. To him, the heart is an organization of the same nature as the head. But that is not true. The head stands at a more primitive stage of development than the heart in all its organization. It is simply that people cannot observe this; that is the reason. When we learn to observe correctly, we will gain from the natural sciences themselves the fundamental conviction of the spiritual in human beings—that which passes through births and deaths. But once we reach this point, we will also take this spiritual-soul aspect into account throughout the entire cultural movement, and then we will recognize the importance of the struggle against narrow-mindedness, philistinism, and clumsiness. And one will come to understand many other things as well. Above all, one will learn in practical life to take the spirit into account. Today, physicists are freely permitted to speak of positive and negative electricity, of positive and negative magnetism. Yet in his field, the scholar of the spiritual sciences is criticized when he speaks of two currents of force in the human soul: the Luciferic and the Ahrimanic. But these two currents of force constitute just as much a polarity for the human soul as positive and negative magnetism or positive and negative electricity do in the physical realm. And if one wishes to understand humanity in its development, one must be willing to observe the effects of the Luciferic and the Ahrimanic in life. An example: For a long time, our social structure was influenced in a one-sided way by the Luciferic principle. Not that one could simply eradicate the Luciferic from life. Whoever merely says, “I want to guard against the Luciferic,” falls prey to it all the more. The only thing that matters is that one assigns it its proper place in life and knows: Here is the Luciferic, and here is the Ahrimanic—then one will not exaggerate their effects or misrepresent them. For centuries, our social structure in Europe and also in other parts of the world has been dominated by strong, one-sided Luciferic impulses. These strong Luciferic impulses take hold of human drives and instincts—the inner workings of these instincts and drives. This is not a criticism, but merely a characterization of these times. How did this Luciferic influence work? Until now, great consideration has been given to determining social culture—the place a person was assigned in life—by placing great value on their vanity and ambition. These are Luciferic impulses. Human vanity and ambition were stoked. I need only recall how, even to this day, schools have relied on vanity and ambition. And in many respects, it was vanity and ambition that led people to acquire this or that in order to secure an important place in life.

[ 22 ] We are now at a crucial point in life. It can hardly escape the notice of any true observer that these Luciferic impulses are on the wane. To put it simply: They no longer hold sway. But something else is now set to emerge—essentially Ahrimanic. And an Ahrimanic current is creeping into the workings of the present. Our dear people—this authority-free population that never wants to believe in authorities, and therefore, of course, falls prey to every form of authority—will once again, without a clue, allow themselves to be subjected to what is now set to take hold as a one-sided Ahrimanic power with regard to the shaping of social structure. Something quite peculiar is making itself felt: the so-called aptitude tests. Experimental psychology, which undoubtedly has a certain limited justification at universities, can learn a great deal about the way the human body functions and how it expresses certain things. But it seeks a specific line of inquiry; for it is easier than any other test of the soul. One now has a certain apparatus that makes recordings by electrical means. Students are placed at certain stations, and researchers note how long it takes for an impression to be registered and brought to consciousness. In short, the work is conducted externally, in a clinical, laboratory-like manner. This is easier than conducting internal research. While the value of this experimental psychology for certain matters should certainly not be doubted, it seeks to expand into a new field. Now it aims to take charge of aptitude tests. To this end, a number of children are selected from a number of school classes and tested for their aptitude—memory, attention, and so on—but the way in which these tests are conducted using the methods of experimental psychology is quite peculiar. Memory, for example, is tested in the following way. Two rows of words that are unrelated to one another are written on the blackboard; for example, “head” and “crystal,” then two other unrelated words, and so on. And after the entire text has been erased, only the first word is written down; the child must then quickly add the second word from memory. Those who have better remembered which unrelated word was paired with another are said to have a better memory, while the others—who either cannot recall anything at all or take a long time to do so—are said to have a poorer memory. This is how memory is tested. — Or suppose one wishes to test intelligence. For this, I’d like to read you a prime example:

[ 23 ] “If, for example, one is given the terms ‘mirror,’ ‘murderer,’ and ‘rescue,’ a whole series of different connections can be established between the mirror and the rescue; discovering these requires no special knowledge, but only keen deductive reasoning. The most obvious connection”—which is the one the less intelligent person would make—“is, of course, that the person in danger sees the creeping murderer in the mirror. But entirely different scenarios are also possible: For example, a creeping murderer might bump into a mirror, and the clatter it makes could wake the threatened sleeper, allowing him to save himself. Or the murderer, taking aim, might be blinded by a reflective mirror.” — Just think how intelligent a boy or girl must be to come up with that!

[ 24 ] “But emotional motives can also be invoked. For example, the murderer might be so terrified by his own image—which is only vaguely visible in the dim light of the mirror—that he refrains from committing the crime, whether because a shudder or pangs of conscience seize him at the sight of himself in the mirror, or because, in the dim light, he mistakes his own reflection for that of another.” — So one is particularly clever to consider the possibility that the murderer might see himself in the mirror and mistake his own face for that of another. — “One can also imagine the victim spotting the creeping murderer in the clear, still waters of a forest lake, etc.”

[ 25 ] Depending on whether one activates one option or the other, one is considered more or less intelligent, and those who prove themselves to be more intelligent in this way are to be supported through scholarships or by being promoted in some other way; and those who can think of nothing else but that one could also see a murderer in the mirror are not given scholarships. This, then, is how intelligence is to be tested today, and there is great enthusiasm for aptitude tests in this regard. This is intended to influence, if not establish, the social order. The dear public, however, will wholeheartedly accept such things as the outgrowth of genuine, true contemporary science, for these matters are today the subject of a great campaign. In this way, attempts are being made to find the means and methods to methodically “put the right man in the right place,” and essays are being written that begin as follows: “Like hardly any other science, applied psychology flourished during the war. This is no coincidence: after all, it was the war—with its consumption of human resources and its varied demands—that first demonstrated the importance of not treating human resources wastefully and haphazardly, but rather of utilizing them as effectively as possible. Until now, only pedagogy had dealt practically with exact psychology; now three new questions have been added: for which profession is a person best suited? (The problem of vocational aptitude); how can we replace the vast amount of intellectual capacity that has been lost? (Selection of gifted individuals); what treatment options are available for those with head injuries and other neurological damage? (Psychological exercise therapy).»

[ 26 ] It continues in this vein. A significant statement is linked to a temporal aberration, and the matter will go even more unnoticed given that there are, of course, professions where this method must be followed. It goes without saying that one would, with a certain degree of justification, use a similar method to test pilots, for example. But this must not be generalized. For this would introduce an Ahrimanic element into our social structure through an education that is one-sided in the extreme. It would thereby eliminate from human aspirations, from human striving, everything that springs from the soul, from the elemental, impulsive soul. One can even imagine the matter in broad terms: Do you believe that, if such aptitude tests were truly decisive, a phrase like “Desire and love are the wings of great deeds” could still have any meaning? And if people were to reflect on their own great figures—you can be absolutely certain: if such an examiner had had to evaluate Helmholtz, he would certainly have portrayed him as an untalented boy. Read Helmholtz’s biography! _

[ 27 ] This is an Ahrimanic trait. Moreover, these things appear in disguise. Unless one is able to observe them through spiritual science, one does not realize where the harm lies. It is not enough in our time to simply revel in all manner of sensual pleasures; rather, it is necessary to awaken to a proper assessment of life. And it would already be a great deal if, with regard to this nonsense of aptitude testing, there were at least a few people who formed an objective judgment about it. For it will flourish and thrive—of that you can be absolutely certain! It will be what the “unbiased examination of the soul has finally brought about,” and it will be glorified as one of the most beautiful manifestations of that philosophical movement which has finally shed the old idealistic prejudices and methods and set out to explore the “real.” Spiritual science must have a practical effect in this sense.

[ 28 ] Now, there are many things connected with these matters, above all the fact that breadth of interest and sincerity must ultimately become fundamental characteristics of the human soul. I would like to give you two charming examples to illustrate the way sincerity operates in our time and how a certain kind of interest is lacking. When I choose personal examples, I assume—since you know I am not doing so out of personal frivolity—that you will not hold it against me. — I recently gave a lecture in Munich on the experiences the seer has with art. I never assumed that any newspaper reporter would be capable of understanding the subject of spiritual science or writing anything praiseworthy about it. On the contrary, if a newspaper reporter were to start writing about spiritual science in a praiseworthy manner, I would believe that something was amiss. But one can still study examples from this. In the lecture I mentioned, I also spoke about musical art and how the musical experience engages the whole human being in a significant way; that wherever there is genuine musical experience, a rhythm unfolds within the human being. I spoke, on the one hand, in relation to the spiritual-soul aspects, but also, on the other hand, in relation to the physiological aspects, by explaining the ebb and flow of cerebrospinal fluid through the arachnoid space and further illustrating how the spinal canal is variably expandable, more or less elastic, and how this in fact gives rise to a marvelous inner rhythm. Through musical experience, something magnificently rhythmic takes place in life. I mentioned these rhythmic movements of the cerebrospinal fluid, which are linked to inhalation and exhalation. And since I also spoke of symbolic concepts in this lecture, the newspaper reporter wrote that I myself used symbolic concepts that were inappropriate: the concept of cerebrospinal fluid! — One need only imagine: Without cerebrospinal fluid, the brain—since, according to Archimedes’ principle, it becomes lighter due to the cerebrospinal fluid—would press down on the blood vessels beneath it and crush them. So cerebrospinal fluid is something quite real. But such is the nature of people’s interests, and articles are written based on such nonsense.

[ 29 ] Here is an example—actually, just a small example—of truthfulness and untruthfulness. I have mentioned on several occasions that the peculiar scholar Max Dessoir also wrote a chapter on “Anthroposophy” in his book On the Afterlife of the Soul. I have already tried to point out to him the various distortions and so on. Even on the surface, his narrative method is, at its core, somewhat hilarious due to its utter superficiality. For example, he cited my Philosophy of Freedom and claimed it was my literary debut. Although this is a distortion, I had no choice but to reply that I had, in fact, been writing and publishing books for ten years prior. But this Beyond the Soul by Max Dessoir has caused a stir; it was discussed everywhere by journalists—who regard brain fluid as a symbolic concept. It had an impact, and now a second edition of this book has been published. In the preface to it, Max Dessoir now seeks to justify himself, and again in exactly the same vein. He is at a loss and thinks that the context makes it quite clear that I do not understand what he means; he claims he meant that The Philosophy of Freedom was my first “theosophical” book. So aside from the fact that anyone would have to laugh at the idea that his statement did not refer to my very first literary work, everyone will now have to laugh again if The Philosophy of Freedom is described as my first “theosophical” book. For there is, after all, a widespread debate that with my theosophical works I have abandoned philosophical writing. — Such is the state of truthfulness, and it is indeed necessary to hold people to account for it. But without truthfulness we will get nowhere, and one must not simply let such things slide. For anyone familiar with the relevant topics, Max Dessoir’s entire book is written in the same vein as the chapter on anthroposophy. And yet, what could happen? A journal that otherwise presents itself as something immensely serious—I mention this because this journal does not, in fact, attack anthroposophy—the Kantstudien, which prides itself so terribly on its purely scholarly, scientific orientation, reviews this work by Dessoir from various angles as a serious scholarly book. It is one of the saddest experiences one can have—that a book which betrays the utmost superficiality is today regarded by a philosophical journal as a “serious scholarly book,” as it is discussed there. — Now I ask: What is the public—the public that does not blindly trust authority—supposed to do today? It naturally takes these works, such as the “Kant Studies” and so on, from the libraries—but such things underlie them!

[ 30 ] There, it is only possible—if the will is present—to return from the spirit to what is fundamental in human nature. And today, this fundamental aspect is touched upon only by the endeavors of spiritual science. One cannot help but strive for truthfulness, breadth of interest, freedom from philistinism, and flexibility in the face of life.

[ 31 ] I wanted to speak to you about this once again, so that we do not lose sight of the following: In spiritual science, it is not merely the content that matters, but rather what the unique nature of spiritual scientific concepts, ideas, and thoughts brings about in our soul—that our soul is lifted out of narrow-mindedness, philistinism, and clumsiness. This is something that anyone who pays attention to the unique impulses inherent in spiritual science must come to see more and more clearly. We must consider the practical value of spiritual science. We will continue discussing such matters next time.