The Rudolf Steiner Archive

14. Additional Considerations and Answers to Questions

[ 1 ] I would be very sorry if any of my remarks had given rise to the impression that what has been presented here regarding the art of education was intended to be dogmatic in any particular direction—that is, that it might in any way be one-sided. Everything said here is based on the view that Spiritual Science, as such, can enrich the art of education. But then, the particularly enriching aspect is likely to be found precisely in the fact that, through this enrichment, education and instruction would take on a living character; and therefore I believe that such general directions, as have been outlined here, can in fact be pursued in the most diverse ways in practice. For the further development of this approach, it would therefore be beneficial if mutual understanding and an exchange of views could take place among the esteemed audience and also among others who can be won over in any way to the further development of the art of education, as conceived here. For the task at hand today is indeed to arrive, through a living understanding of human development as a whole and of the development of our times in particular, at what is immediately required of us by the times—especially in the field of pedagogy. Today, the issue is less about formulating new formal educational principles and more about broadening our perspective—particularly with regard to the art of education—in light of human development and so on.

[ 2 ] Where does humanity stand today in its development? What must we teach children if we are to do justice to the stage of development that humanity has reached today—and will increasingly reach in the near future? If one cannot regard recent events as a kind of warning sign clearly indicating that, particularly with regard to the art of education, much needs to be renewed, then one actually has a poor understanding of the present age. Countless specific examples could, of course, be mentioned. Just consider how natural it is, based on the points I have made, to seek out—in addition to the synthetic method usually observed in arithmetic—the analytical method, which proceeds from the sum and the product, rather than solely from the addends and the factors. How obvious it would be to treat the calculation of fractions—and everything related to it—in detail precisely from this perspective. I’ll say only the following about these details. I would like to draw your attention to the fact that, at the very moment we transition from calculating with whole numbers to calculating with fractions, we quite naturally enter into the realm of analysis, for tracing numbers back to their fractions is precisely what analysis entails; thus, it is justified to introduce a different element into the teaching method for fraction calculations than for calculations with ordinary numbers.

[ 3 ] Certainly, from one perspective, there is little to dispute about the introduction of the calculating machine in schools during the 19th century; but this calculating machine should not lead to an overly materialistic overestimation of the principle of visual learning. We should be clear about this: concreteness is all well and good, but the point is that education is meant to develop human abilities. The period from the change of teeth to sexual maturity is, above all, intended for the development of memory; underestimating memory in favor of visual learning, at the expense of memory, or prioritizing visual learning at the expense of memory—both should actually be avoided. One should, however, begin in a simple way—though for those capable of giving lively instruction, the ten fingers on one’s hand are essentially sufficient—and within, say, the number 10, create all sorts of groupings that illustrate arithmetic operations and the relationships between numbers. But then one must be clear that one should approach arithmetic in the same way as it exists in life—in the spiritual life of humanity in general.

[ 4 ] There are, of course, extensive philosophical treatises—entire sections in philosophical investigations—on what a number really is and what a fraction is. This illustrates that, while children are taught about numbers and fractions, later in life—even as a philosopher—one can say: One must first investigate what a number actually means, what a fraction is. This must at least point to one thing: that it is not necessary to try to clarify everything down to the minutest detail through so-called intuition, but rather that one must present many things to the child that are simply incorporated into memory and only later fully understood when one is ready for them. From another point of view, I have already pointed this out. With fractions, it is somewhat different. Because the origin of the fraction is, in a sense, something analytical, one must accommodate this analytical need, which I mentioned in previous lessons. Therefore, it is good to make the calculation of fractions as concrete as possible. This can perhaps be achieved precisely by dividing a large cube into smaller cubes—let’s say, dividing a large cube into sixteen cubes—thereby introducing the concept of a quarter first by dividing it into four parts, and then each quarter into four parts again. After all, one can very effectively illustrate all sorts of relationships between sixteenths, eighths, and so on to the children by dividing the cube. If one then later assigns different colors to the parts, one can—by reassembling the divided cube parts in various ways—make an extraordinary amount of concepts exceptionally clear through this method.

[ 5 ] However, I would like to ensure that the transition from common fractions to decimal fractions, in particular, is not presented to the children in an irrational way—in a way that is out of touch with reality. From the very beginning, children should develop a sense that the use of decimal fractions is actually based on human convention, on a kind of human convenience, and they should also come to understand that the introduction of decimal fractions is really nothing more than a continuation of the same methods that underlie our numbers in general—as we count to 10 and then find that the number 10 is once again contained within 20 (= twice 10)—at which point a new series of tens is added starting at 20, and so on. If we calculate to the left using the same principle we use when forming decimal fractions to the right, the child can grasp that this is actually relative—that I could also have a unit by shifting the decimal point two places to the right. This conventional aspect, which is inherent in the divisions, should definitely be taught to children from the very beginning. Then, in turn, many conventional elements would fit into the social order. Much of the misplaced belief in authority would fade if everything that is essentially based on convention were, from the very beginning, presented to the child’s mind as such—as something established by convention. Above all, however, an understanding grounded in the Spiritual Science will seek to shape this art of education in such a way that, during the period from the change of teeth to sexual maturity—taking into account all that we have said about the stages of life and the emergence of abilities within those stages—the child comes to have a mental image of practical life. Every single object should be used to introduce the child to a perspective on practical life. Indeed, if we understand the child in the right way, we will introduce physics and chemistry lessons around the age of 12, and lessons on minerals around this time, in the sense that we have outlined here. But we will also structure arithmetic instruction around this time—or perhaps as early as the age of 11—so that it already contains something of the character that all mineral, physical, and chemical instruction is meant to take on: a focus on practicality. In arithmetic, the child should definitely gain a mental image of how to discount bills of exchange, how to calculate the discount, how to keep accounts, and how to send letters—arising from business, financial, and other matters—from one business to another. Furthermore, instruction between the ages of 12 and 14 or 15 should be structured so that when the child reaches about 15 years of age and leaves elementary school or advances to a higher level of schooling, he or she has a genuine, realistic mental image of the most important aspects of life.

[ 6 ] I know that the usual objection to this principle is: “Yes, but where is the time to be found for all of this? Where is the time to be found so that the child can gain a real mental image of how paper is made, how soap is made, how cigars are made, and so on?” Nevertheless, if one organizes the matter properly, one can distill the essential characteristics—for example, by presenting typical industries or modes of transportation. One can ensure that the child does not go through life like someone wearing blinders to all possible circumstances, but rather that the child understands what is actually going on in the immediate surroundings they encounter. We really do see that city children have no idea how barley differs from wheat. On the other hand, we see that children who may not have a soap factory nearby have no idea how soap is made; but sometimes, even when there is a soap factory nearby, the children still do not know how soap is made, because no attention is paid to ensuring that people are actually familiarized with what humanity has in its immediate surroundings today, and through which it has reached the stage of cultural and civilizational development that it has attained. There is probably little inclination, especially in the present day, to take into account the intangible factors in human development at all.

[ 7 ] Consider how many people today get on and off a streetcar without having even the faintest idea of how such a vehicle is constructed, how it is set in motion, and so on. Of course, we must not take what I am about to say to extremes, but essentially the following is true: Today we constantly make use of cultural products without having the slightest idea of what is at work within them. It is not for the least part for these very reasons that we have become a nervous generation. For when we are constantly surrounded by circumstances we do not understand, we become confused—even if that confusion affects only our subconscious. Of course, a person cannot know all the details of today’s complicated life; yet it is precisely during the period when a person’s abilities are taking shape around the age of 12—when the power of judgment begins to emerge alongside sexual maturity—that this can be achieved. During this time, it is possible to familiarize the child with the most important aspects of practical life. Today, not everything that does not pertain to our own profession should, so to speak, remain a mystery to us. It is a mystery to a person how books are kept if they are not an accountant themselves; it is a mystery to a person how school is run if they are not a teacher themselves, and so on. What is causing such social fragmentation in our time must be overcome. We must learn to understand one another again. We must not let the abilities children possess to gain insight into practical life lie fallow. Instead of many of the frivolous essays written in school—descriptions of all sorts of things—I don’t know what kind of essays are sometimes written here in republican Switzerland; that is to say, I do see it in the school curricula, but I don’t want to get into that—but instead of all that, instead of the essays that were written, for example, in the former monarchist states about the “monarch’s birthday” and so on, essays should be written in which business life, commerce, and industry play a direct role. This is by no means an element that must undermine idealism or intellectual disposition. An intellectual disposition does not need to be cultivated through the constant emphasis on idealism and ideals; rather, it is cultivated by encouraging people to act from the spirit, by truly bringing to the surface, year after year, that which seeks to emerge spiritually within them. In this way, the broader perspective becomes integrated with the individual.

[ 8 ] The following question has been raised: How can the sometimes very late eruption of the so-called wisdom teeth be explained from the perspective of Spiritual Science? Is the emergence of these wisdom teeth related to the liberation of certain powers of knowledge, just as is the case with the change of teeth?

[ 9 ] Isn't it true that we need to be clear about the following: The process of tooth replacement demonstrates that certain forces, which previously permeated and worked through the organism, are now being released; as I have explained to you, they then become powers of imagination—free powers of imagination. But everything that takes place in this way within the organism must not be strictly demarcated and circumscribed; that would be contrary to the very purpose of development. Whatever is the most essential aspect up to a certain epoch in human development must leave a residue behind. We get our wisdom teeth later precisely because a remnant of what has been working particularly radically in the organism up to the age of seven must continue to have an effect. A remnant must remain. If everything were suddenly brought to a close, we humans would experience a very strong jolt every time we wanted to turn to thinking. When we want to turn to thinking, the forces that were previously active in the organism up to the age of seven are then deliberately brought into play. That which must serve as a necessary bridge between the separate spiritual-soul aspect and the organic aspect must remain to a certain degree. We must become free for mental images, yet we must remain connected to our organism. This is expressed in the fact that the wisdom tooth erupts so late. Some of the force that is freed up for mental images still remains within the organic development.

[ 10 ] We can discover something similar in all sorts of aspects of human development, just as with this wisdom tooth. Another question, just as interesting as the one that has been asked, is this: To what extent can teachers, drawing on the art of education grounded in Spiritual Science, help children through their upbringing to correctly recognize their aptitudes later in life and thus find their rightful place in social life?

[ 11 ] To this, precisely from the spirit of Spiritual Science—if I may use that expression—the answer must be that such questions are actually irrelevant, for they are posed from a rationalistic, materialistic perspective. The child must be protected from ever being able to pose such an abstract question to itself: How do I find my rightful place in life according to my aptitudes? The child must arrive at this decision very gradually, through all manner of transitions, in accordance with their own feelings. And if one day the abstract question arises in our soul: “How are we to put our aptitudes to use in the service of humanity?”—then that is, in fact, already a spiritual illness. We must grow into this entire orientation toward the course of human development, into our relationship with our fellow human beings, slowly and gradually, as if of our own accord. We will do so if we are educated as described here. Then we will not be able to fall into this pathological question at all: How do I put my talents to use in social service or elsewhere? For example, simply by having a healthy understanding of practical matters, we will—by the time we leave elementary school—essentially be in a position where life itself will show us the way we should position ourselves within it. The fact that such questions arise and are cited quite seriously as something that can play a role in our time testifies to how, in our age, we have drifted into intellectualism and, with it, into materialism.

[ 12 ] That is why I would like to point out how concrete general principles can always be developed in detail in terms of their practical implications, provided one has the will to do so. I would also like to address this question in more detail: I was asked about spelling errors that arise from words where the written form is not clearly defined—for example, whether there is an “h” or an “e” for vowel lengthening and the like.

[ 13 ] I have said that orthographic writing must be based on training in clear listening. This training in listening will support orthographic writing. Clear listening, when cultivated, also trains precise vision. These skills support one another; if one is developed in the right way, the other will also need to be developed in the right way. For example, if one gets used to listening carefully, one will develop a tendency to retain the visual image of a word as such in one’s inner vision. Careful listening supports careful seeing, so that for those words whose spelling seems arbitrary—such as those with length marks and the like—we can support the child in orthographic writing by having them repeat the words clearly, with a vivid sense of the syllables.

[ 14 ] However, I ask that you not take anything I say as something that could become a dogma, but rather in such a way that the spirit underlying these discussions can be applied in the most diverse ways. I can well imagine, for example, that someone might have a different mental image of the Greeks’ place in the general course of Western culture than the one I took as my basis in my discussion of the historical method a few days ago; someone might hold a completely different mental image, but could still present that image using the same methodology I employed. My aim is not to put forward anything dogmatic about the Greeks, but rather to show how one should present a particular view on this or that within the framework of a symptomatological conception of history. For I believe that teachers, especially in the present day, must be mindful of how very much we need to allow the spirit and the flow of enthusiasm to permeate our entire human activity in order to come to know human beings through education. We must look, free of prejudice, at what we already encounter in the child if we wish to educate it as it must be educated, so that the next generation may move beyond, at least to some extent, the social ills that cast such a terrible shadow over the present.

[ 15 ] Anyone who is able to observe human life impartially will see that, even in a child’s intellectual development, what is so terribly characteristic of human nature becomes apparent: complacency. What we need to develop the intellect—please don’t laugh inwardly at the paradox—is the development of the human will. The intellect becomes healthy when we nurture a healthy will through the methods I have described, through the introduction of art into elementary school education as early as possible; for art strengthens the will. We educate the will and thereby nurture the intellect in a very special way. And conversely, when we broaden the child’s horizons by presenting lofty, far-reaching mental images—as can be done in history and religion classes—we influence the will. This is the remarkable thing: that the proper education of the intellect acts to activate the will, and the proper education of the will acts to activate the intellect. A terrible darkness has been cast over all these things by the materialism of the past centuries. Even today, one hardly notices how, in the deepest recesses of human nature, a certain inner complacency of the soul asserts itself against the activity of thought. Egoism should be studied because it asserts itself so subtly in our time, because it exerts such a strong influence when it comes to the development of the mind and emotions. This must be pointed out again and again. A true initiative of the will can only come about if one broadens people’s perspective and directs their gaze toward what acts spiritually in the world, what acts spiritually from the stars, what acts spiritually through world history, and what acts spiritually in the deepest, innermost human heart. Only by opening up a spiritual worldview to people can one activate their will. This is precisely what needs to be understood. We must move beyond certain things. In our mindset—which we are developing specifically with regard to the art of education—there is still too much—I do not wish to hold back with this radicalism, at least—there is still too much Robinson.

[ 16 ] Robinson and everything associated with him is a symptom of the rise of all that is philistine, all that is narrow-minded and pedantic, and all that is restrictive in the human outlook on life—and especially in our influence on children: This Robinson was so perfectly suited to the narrow-minded, bourgeois worldview of the 18th century that he was imitated everywhere. No sooner had the English Robinson appeared than there was a Czech, a Polish, a German, and a Croatian Robinson. Who knows what else—Robinsonades appeared in every European language. Robinson is, after all, the character who is no character at all, because he is, so to speak, meant to be placed—like a human machine—in situations of distress and subjected to external circumstances so that, bit by bit, he might develop what can only arise healthily in human development when it emerges from the innermost activity, yet is forced to develop out of external necessity. One could go through page after page of *Robinson* and point out the philistine mindset that is expressed precisely in this *Robinson*; one could point out that pitiful rationalism of a religious worldview that says: We have a single God, and a person is a good person as long as they are not corrupted by this or that factor. This philistine view, which completely disregards the fact that human beings need a living spirit that permeates their souls—a spirit they see at work in history and everywhere, even up to the stars—this *Robinson* also dwells as a mindset even where it is not read. This philistine mindset must be eradicated from humanity once again; for it is this mindset that has seeped through the finest channels into everything imaginable—resonating with us today from here and there—and shaping life in such a way that, in fact, everywhere there is only an appetite for mediocrity, for not rising above a certain level. It is Robinson who has fostered the taste for the non-exceptional, for the non-genius, for the average. I know that one actually strikes a nerve in very, very many hearts—and it is felt bitterly—when one draws attention precisely to the “Robinsonades,” to the intellectual adventure of European-American civilization, which lies in the overestimation of Robinson. But one must also allow oneself to be carried away a little by the feeling that one has simply grown into that which one grew up with. One has grown up with the Robinson mindset, and one must reflect a little to shake off what has become ingrained in modern humanity through this Robinson mindset.

[ 17 ] Certainly, in one respect, this Robinson was a kind of protest against something that has become increasingly prominent in the development of Christianity. Christian development, as it has come to be—not as it was in early Christianity—is fundamentally based on the assumption that human nature is corrupt. Rationalism—the Enlightenment of the 18th century, from which the entire concept of Robinson was conceived and written—assumes that human nature is actually good, that only its evil enemies need to be removed so that its goodness can emerge. Both are terrible one-sided views. It is certainly understandable that, in opposition to the prejudice regarding the depravity—the fundamental depravity—of human nature, the other prejudice emerged: that of the fundamental goodness of human nature. At its core, this is nothing other than the last remnant of philistinism—but a particularly virulent form of philistinism—in which the enthusiastic and inspiring philistine Jean-Jacques Rousseau lives. It is the view that if one simply allows a person to grow up like a child of nature, he will do everything—just as, so to speak, everything around Robinson, even under the influence of a French Baptist priest, is done in the very best way with sobriety. Certainly, that is roughly the view; but we will not advance humanity from the present standpoint of culture if we succumb to any of these one-sided views. Both one-sided views must find resolution in a balanced synthesis. Human beings are, after all, certainly good by nature—that is, good in their very essence; for the child, as it enters the world as an imitative creature, pronounces a judgment, so to speak, everywhere: “I believe in the goodness of the world that has welcomed me.” This is an unconscious judgment on the part of the child. But just as it is true that human beings are good by their very nature, so it is true that human beings, by their very nature, are—I might say—like the product of a living being. Meat that has just been slaughtered is good; after eight days, it is no longer good. It is bad because it has become putrid; something must be done to improve it if one still wishes to enjoy it after eight days. Human beings are good by their very nature. But if they remain as they are—when they descend from the spiritual world of prenatal existence into the physical world—they become bad unless the power to improve themselves is awakened within them.

[ 18 ] Here you have both: Human beings are good by their very nature, but the powers within them must be awakened so that they may preserve that goodness. And human beings are not fundamentally corrupt, but they do become corrupt if the powers through which they can preserve their original strength are not awakened within them. It is just as wrong to say that human beings will inevitably bring out their goodness if left to their own devices as it is to say that they are fundamentally corrupt. The truth is that human beings are good by nature. However, the powers within them must be continually reawakened to bring this goodness to progressive development; otherwise, human nature becomes corrupted if it is not sustained through one’s own activity in the direction of goodness. We must actually carry this attitude within us toward the development of humanity. It will then be passed on to our children—when we have them ourselves—when we tell fairy tales, describe the May beetle, and depict the stars in such a way that something can be perceived in the details or in the context of the whole, just as we are convinced that what human beings signify in the context of the world is inherently good from its very essence, but that this goodness must be continually nurtured, and that the goodness of the entire world depends on the care of human beings; that it is inherent in human beings to help shape the development of the entire world.

[ 19 ] In this regard, we have strayed from what our ancestors possessed—based on a primordial wisdom, for such wisdom truly existed among humankind. It is remarkable how even in ancient Greece—not to mention Egypt, where this was taken for granted—all teaching, all influence, including that of the priest and the religious figure, on the people was linked to the concept of healing. Imparting knowledge was, in ancient times, a concept that was entirely synonymous with healing. The physician was, in essence, merely—I might say—a somewhat different kind of priest, and the priest a somewhat different kind of physician. The idea that being a doctor has something to do with making things better is still deeply rooted in the people even today. The “Dr. Mammoniae” is, of course, a kind of product of modern vanity. Contemporary humanity is extraordinarily vain, even in such matters. For what constitutes scholarship—the pursuit and communication of knowledge, the teaching profession, the medical profession, and everything else—all flowed together into a single entity for humanity’s original instincts. The concept of healing was linked to all of this. Why? Because it was based on a very specific view—a view that we, unfortunately, do not have today in our materialistic age, but toward which we must once again strive. It is the view that in the historical development of humanity—including insofar as the forces of nature play a role in this historical development—there is always an element of decline, an element that leads into decadence, and that human beings are called upon to use their own strength to continually transform this decline into an ascent.

[ 20 ] The cultural-historical process of development is constantly in danger of becoming diseased. Through his learning and his actions, man must heal that which continually seeks to become diseased within the development of culture. This is something that must be understood. History contains forces of decline, and these forces of decline cannot be expected to sustain humanity. If Marxism today thrives on the idea that everything is built upon economic forces and that the spiritual is a kind of superstructure, then this is rooted entirely in the materialism of the past centuries. For what would become of these purely economic forces of production if they were left to their own devices, without any ongoing improvement on the part of human beings? They would only lead people into the deterioration of social life. Trotskyism and Leninism mean the deterioration of the entire cultural development of Europe. If Marxism were to be realized—if it were to succeed in penetrating even the schools—the East would become an artificial disease of European culture; for it assumes that culture could arise solely from what lies outside of humanity. But culture can only come into being if human beings, of their own accord, continually heal that which, in the non-human realm, is constantly striving toward decline. We must reclaim this, above all in the school, so that the teacher who enters through the school gates behaves as a kind of physician of human spiritual development, administering the remedy through the child—who is in the process of becoming—to the development of culture. It is not vanity, nor is it arrogance, for a teacher to feel in this way—as the perpetual healer of culture. For if this is felt in the right way, it also instills in our hearts the need—especially when one is a teacher—to look toward the great interests of humanity, toward that which has always moved humanity as the more profound, the great interests. A teacher’s horizon cannot be broad enough. A teacher’s lofty purpose cannot be lofty enough. Precisely when we become aware of what education is meant to accomplish for humanity, then a lofty horizon will always encompass the necessary humility and, at the same time, bring with it the necessary sense of responsibility.

[ 21 ] Ladies and gentlemen, you will have observed that throughout these sessions, we have consistently sought to realize, for the foundation of Spiritual Science in the field of education, what Herbart himself ultimately stated: He could not conceive of instruction that was not at the same time education, nor could he conceive of education that could do without instruction. But the point is that we must imbue ourselves with a spirit that is alive enough to enable us to take everything that is offered to us as teaching material from the ongoing development of humanity and bring it into the school in such a way that, in our hands, it becomes education for the child. It is a lofty task that humanity as a whole sets before us. We must understand what humanity has achieved, and we must transform it in our own hands so that it becomes suitable for even the youngest child! We will be able to do this if we grasp the spirit with the vitality with which it is to be conveyed in Spiritual Science—and as it is conveyed here—when we speak of the enrichment of the art of education through Spiritual Science.

[ 22 ] I do not wish to conclude these lectures with a sort of closing remark, my esteemed audience, but would rather let them fade out with the word that I have tried to present to you—not sentimentally, but based on the essence of the matter—the word: Education can only be carried out properly if it is understood as a form of healing, if the educator becomes aware that he or she is to be a healer. If these lectures have contributed even a little to deepening our awareness of education and teaching, so that we can once again feel—or rather, so that we can gradually come to feel once more—how we must become healers, how we must become doctors of the soul, if we wish to be teachers and educators in the true sense, then these lectures have at least partially achieved their goal; and I can only hope that what the esteemed chair of these lectures has said will be followed by a thorough working through of the material. For my part, whenever I am approached, I will be more than willing to do whatever you wish, so that what I have been able to present here only in a highly imperfect form through 14 hints—and which I so dearly wish to see enter into the consciousness of humanity—may now truly enter into that consciousness more and more.