The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Twelfth Lecture

[ 1 ] My remarks over the past few days may have given you the impression that the art of education and teaching—based on the anthroposophical understanding of the human being—takes into account, first and foremost, the physical element in the human being. For you will have noticed that I have endeavored to show: How can we, through our art of education, best support the free unfolding of the formative forces that emanate from the human head and work within the organism itself? How can we, particularly in school education, support the respiratory and circulatory systems? How can we ensure that muscular strength develops in the freest possible way? How can we ensure that the muscles attach to the bones in the correct manner, so that the human being is physically and bodily situated in the external world in an appropriate way?

[ 2 ] It appears that everything that stems from this art of education discussed here—insofar as these are psychological and spiritual measures—is oriented toward bringing about the healthiest and most normal physical development of the human being. And that is indeed the case. In fact, the fully conscious goal of what must be regarded here as healthy pedagogy and didactics is to develop the human being’s physical and bodily aspects in the freest possible way and, in a sense, to offer the spiritual and soul aspects the opportunity to unfold from within themselves; to offer the spiritual-soul aspect the opportunity to unfold from within itself precisely by causing the least possible harm to the spiritual-soul aspect during the school-age years; not by saying that a person should become this or that. In a sense, everything used in instruction is applied in such a way that one learns how a person can best be healthy. Since one must also take the spiritual-soul aspect into account in the classroom—since the physical must become an expression, a revelation of the spiritual-soul aspect—one must therefore attend to the handling of the spiritual-soul aspect in a way that corresponds to the healthy development of the human being.

[ 3 ] From what supreme educational principle does such a view actually stem? It stems, in fact, from an absolute devotion to human freedom, to human autonomy. It stems from the ideal of placing human beings in the world in such a way that they can develop their individual freedom, so that they face no obstacles to the development of this individual freedom within themselves.

[ 4 ] What we therefore strive for in particular through this art of education and instruction, which is oriented toward the physical aspect of the human being, is that the individual learn to use his or her physical nature in the right way later in life. For this art of education is based just as much on insight as on a certain confidence that life unfolds best precisely when it develops freely and healthily. Of course, all these things must be understood in a relative sense, but this relative sense can already be grasped.

[ 5 ] A person who, during their school years, is driven to the point where they cannot use their respiratory system or their tendon and bone systems properly will become an unfree person in life. And a person who is trained in such a way that one assumes they should acquire this or that concept, this or that mental image for life, becomes an unfree person. Only the person who is educated in such a way that the education is derived from the requirements of the physical and bodily necessities of human development becomes a free person. Everything that is to be undertaken with a person in terms of their mental and emotional development during their school-age years must be derived from the person themselves.

[ 6 ] It is precisely in this way that the anthroposophical worldview seeks to prove its value for life: not by leading to a false idealism, but rather to a truly practical approach to what exists in life, insofar as this life reveals itself to us human beings who develop within the body between birth and death, and who must have developed within this body that which constitutes our spiritual and soul life.

[ 7 ] You see, even if we wanted to, we would have absolutely no influence on the actual development of the spiritual-soul aspect as teachers and educators. The spiritual-soul aspect, in its proper state, is present only from the moment of falling asleep until waking up. In fact, if we wanted to educate this spiritual-soul aspect, we would have to do so while the child is asleep. We cannot educate it at all. And this is what confronts us so strongly in a time like ours that one believes one must educate the spiritual-soul aspect, that one must lead people to a certain understanding of this or that, whereas one need only lead them to the free use of their physical body through the spiritual-soul aspect.

[ 8 ] As I have often pointed out, one cannot discuss the educational system without considering its connection to the overall civilization of an era—and, indeed, to the entire social context in which it is embedded. I will certainly refrain from including anything in this discussion that does not pertain to our subject. However, what follows is, in the most eminent sense, relevant to our discussion—albeit from a historical perspective.

[ 9 ] We are now hearing that in Eastern Europe, an educational system is being developed for the adults who are permitted to remain there—namely, those who belong to the radical socialist party—because everything that has been considered valid up to now is no longer regarded as correct there, and so a new educational system is being developed. The pedagogical approach is based purely on external measures. And how? We hear that one of Russia’s leading figures has currently been tasked with writing a history of the Communist Party. He is to devote one month to writing this history of the Communist Party. This has been officially assigned to him by the state. He is expected to be finished after one month. During this month, he is also to engage in some practical work at the Moscow headquarters at the same time. Through this, he is to produce a book, and all those who are “true Russians” in the modern sense are to be educated by it. A second man has been tasked with writing a history of the labor movement in the West and a history of the International. This man has been instructed to do something else at the same time during this period—he is to be finished in one and a half months, after which every true Russian will, in turn, have to study this book; forgive me, I believe he has been given two months to complete it. The third man has been tasked with writing the theory of Marxism. He has one and a half months to do so and must then deliver a book that, in turn, everyone who is to grow into the conditions of the East in a worthy manner must study. In this way, a number of people have been tasked with creating the Russian literature of the near future. Each is told exactly how many weeks he has to work on it, as well as what else he is to do in the meantime; the one who is to write about Marxism is also to serve as a co-editor of *Pravda* during that time.

[ 10 ] Why do I mention this? Because, fundamentally, it is the ultimate consequence of what lies within all of us as people of today’s civilization; we simply do not want to admit that this is the ultimate consequence, one that is only fully realized—in all its absurdity—in Eastern Europe. The absurdity lies in the fact that one assumes that human beings must know this or that specific thing; that one does not ask: What must a human being be like in order to be a human being—a human being who is properly integrated into the fabric of the world?

[ 11 ] The teacher must bring the utmost reverence for the spiritual and soul aspects into the school, and without this utmost reverence, it is just as impossible to cope with school life as it is without a certain artistic and scientific education on the part of the teacher. Therefore, the fundamental requirement above all else for a teacher who wishes to work on the basis of an anthroposophically oriented pedagogy is that he or she have reverence for the developmental potential of what the child brings into the world as its spiritual and soul life, and that they also regard the child as a free being, so that they may find the principles capable of educating the child in such a way that, when the child later looks back on their upbringing, they cannot perceive any impairment of their freedom, not even in the consequences of that upbringing.

[ 12 ] The best way to understand what is meant here is to ask ourselves: What becomes of a person if their physical characteristics are not properly addressed during childhood? They remain undeveloped and carry over into later life. But what, then, are these childhood characteristics that carry over into later life? As paradoxical as it sounds, it is absolutely true: these childhood characteristics are causes of illness; one must be fully aware—in the most serious sense—that these childhood characteristics are causes of illness. Then one will already have the right inner impulse for a doctrine of health and also for respecting human freedom as a whole.

[ 13 ] Let’s make a comparison: Take a person who is passionate about human freedom to the very core of his being; if he falls ill, he calls a doctor. The doctor cures him using all the proper modern methods. Will he feel that his freedom has been compromised as a result? Never in a million years. That which approaches a person in this way never, ever compromises human freedom.

[ 14 ] The same sentiment must apply to the art of education and teaching. One must state this radically, but at the same time, what is stated radically can be heard in its proper nuance. The same must apply to the art of education and teaching—that one is able to conceive of the art of education and teaching in a certain relationship to the art of medicine. Of course, the art of education is not therapy in the true sense of the word. But the relationship between adults and children must be viewed in such a way that a comparison with therapeutic behavior can certainly be considered justified.

[ 15 ] When a child is released from formal schooling around the time of puberty—we will, of course, be discussing this turning point in life in the coming days in the context of aesthetic and moral education; we will now focus more on general human considerations—so when a child is released from the strictly school-based educational program at the age of fourteen or fifteen, it is particularly important to ensure that, during the period between the change of teeth and puberty, everything that can benefit the child in later life has indeed been provided. It must be taken into account that it is, above all, the etheric body—the body of formative forces—whose forces we are dealing with during this school-age period, and that when the child leaves school age, the true soul—which we will discuss in more detail shortly—only then truly reveals itself. And the fact is that we must now turn our attention to the next phase of human life, which begins at the age of fourteen or fifteen, lasts until the early twenties, and in which the human being itself demands that the individual adapt more and more to external life. We have seen, after all, how the child gradually masters its body—ultimately its skeletal system—and thereby grows together with the outer world of its own accord, placing itself within the outer world. It must then be able to adapt to the outer world. And this essentially takes place until the early twenties.

[ 16 ] But then comes a particularly important phase of life for human beings—a phase in which we no longer approach them in the same way we do in school. Yet we have accomplished an immense amount during the school years, the effects of which become evident in people from the early 1920s through the end of that decade.

[ 17 ] Immediately after we release a person from compulsory schooling, they must enter into whatever prepares them for this or that profession. There, they must be taught what is no longer provided solely by human nature, but what has been accumulated in civilization as suitable for this or that profession. Thus, a person must be adaptable to a specific aspect of life. In our educational approach, we strive to do justice to this transition into life by gradually introducing very practical subjects—such as weaving and spinning—to children and young people who are just entering their fourteenth or fifteenth years, through which we aim to prepare them for growing into life. For knowing such things—and especially having had some hands-on experience with them, such as weaving and spinning—is not only important for those who intend to become spinners or weavers, but is of extraordinary significance for anyone who wishes to be practical in life. It is simply a matter of ensuring that the right subjects are taught at exactly the right age.

[ 18 ] But what is developed during school-age in the etheric or formative body comes to the fore in the soul between the early and late twenties, when a person must truly begin to establish themselves professionally in life. The way we have treated them in school determines whether, in their twenties, they will enter life either clumsily, with reluctance and inhibitions, or skillfully, with the strength to overcome obstacles and hindrances. A person must certainly experience in their twenties how what we did with them during their school years has, during their preparation for a career, receded into the background, so to speak, only to resurface again—now as the very thing the person themselves uses to determine how they engage with life. If one knows this, then one will be able to view the major phases of human life—between the change of teeth and sexual maturity—in precisely the right way. Between the ages of nine and ten lies that important point in life I have spoken of. Around the age of twelve, there is another important turning point, to which I have also alluded. When the child comes from home to our school at the age of six or seven, it is initially what I have called a “total sensory organ.” It has absorbed much through imitation. It has developed a certain inner plasticity. This is what it brings with it when it enters school. And everything we must apply up until the turning point between the ages of nine and ten is a formative approach—an educational and instructional approach so formative that the child is always actively involved in this process of shaping. In the description I have given of the way in which reading, writing, and arithmetic should be introduced to the child, this is already expressed in the call for an artistic approach specifically for this age group. Thus, taking the artistic element into account is also particularly important at this very age.

[ 19 ] Anyone who understands that education during the school-age years must begin with the will and only gradually lead to the intellect will pay very special attention to the development of the will. They will tell themselves: The child must learn, in the right way, to draw its will from within its own organism. — To this end, the will, in all its expressions, must incorporate an emotional element in the right way. We must not only do this or that; we must also develop sympathy and antipathy in a manner appropriate to what we are doing. And the best element—aside from its intrinsic value—that brings the child into this flow is music. Therefore, as soon as a child is brought into school, one should introduce the musical element to the child through singing, but also through simple handling of musical instruments.

[ 20 ] Not only does the child cultivate an aesthetic sense in the process, but above all because it is precisely through this roundabout way that the inner harmonious development of the will is brought about. And the child also brings with it the innate capacities for this. The child is an inner sculptor, and we can draw out these inner sculptural aptitudes—indeed, draw out all of their aptitudes. The child also brings with them the aptitude for this, so that—even if it is inconvenient—we let them do all sorts of things with colors on paper, through which they can be introduced to the mysteries of the world of colors. For example, it is extraordinarily interesting to see how children find their way into the world of color when you simply let them experiment with paint on a white surface at first. They cover the individual parts of this white surface with colors, in which—thanks to the child’s natural predisposition—a certain inner harmony of colors will already be present. What they smear around on the paper is not meaningless; it is a certain harmony of colors. One must simply take care not to let the children use the kinds of paints sold as “children’s paints,” where they apply the paint directly from the paint tablets onto the paper. That is always—even in the art of painting—detrimental! Painting should be done from the paint dish, from the dissolved paint—paint dissolved in water or some other liquid. One must develop an inner, intimate relationship with the paint. Even a child must do this. If one merely smears paint straight from the palette, one has no intimate relationship with the paint; rather, one develops such a relationship when painting from the paint dissolved in the dish.

[ 21 ] Then, when you tell the child: “Look, what you’ve done there is very nice: you painted a red area in the middle, and then you based the rest on that.” Everything you’ve put on there matches the red area. Now try doing it the other way around: where you currently have a red area, make it blue, and adjust everything else accordingly—just as you would have to do if there were blue in the middle instead of red.

[ 22 ] First, such an exercise greatly stimulates the child; second, with some guidance from the teacher and educator, the child will most certainly develop this transformation into a different, colorful undertone in such a way that it gains immensely in its inner relationship to the world when allowed to do just that. And as inconvenient as it may be, children should definitely be allowed to make small sculptural objects—well, out of whatever materials they can find. It is true that we need to protect children from getting too dirty; that is certainly inconvenient, but what the children gain from it is worth far more than simply ensuring they don’t get dirty or the like. In short, it is necessary to introduce the artistic element to the child, especially in the early years. Everything that needs to come out of the child must be presented to the child in a child-friendly way. If you introduce art to children in this way, then the other subjects become much easier. For example, they learn languages much more easily when art is introduced to them. I have already pointed out that language learning must begin at a very early age, preferably when children start school.

[ 23 ] Well, in our time, many forms of fanaticism prevail, and so what is entirely correct from one perspective can, when taken to extremes, become fanatical and one-sided. This is the case, for example, with regard to language. A child naturally learns their native language at first without any grammar whatsoever, and of course that is how they should learn it; even when the child reaches school age and is taught foreign languages, this should be done entirely without grammar—in a sense, as a somewhat more mature replication of the process of learning the native language.

[ 24 ] But when the aforementioned turning point in life occurs between the ages of nine and ten, it is simply a requirement of the person’s own life that some non-pedantic grammatical knowledge be introduced to the child for the sake of the child’s proper development, for at this age the child must find the transition to the development of the “I.” They must learn to approach everything more consciously than before. Therefore, within the language they already know—the language they speak and use—one must introduce the intellectual element into the purely emotional linguistic element through a non-pedantic, but rather stimulating, practice of understanding the rules. The child must already possess some grasp of grammar; so that between the ages of nine and ten—when this important turning point in life occurs—they do not find themselves asking, “How should I say this? How should I say this?”—without having any logical point of reference. For we must be clear that language contains two elements that are always interacting: a cognitive element and an emotional element.

[ 25 ] I would like to illustrate this with a sentence I will quote from Goethe’s *Faust*:

[ 26 ] Gray, my dear friend, is all theory,
And green is life’s golden tree.

[ 27 ] As a Westerner, I cannot expect you to study the commentaries on Goethe’s *Faust*—of which there are many; they fill an entire library—but if you were to study them, you would make a remarkable discovery. A certain category of these commentaries invariably includes, whenever the commentator reaches this sentence in Goethe’s *Faust*, a remark like this at the bottom: “3526” is written at the top because 3,525 explanations have already preceded it; and at the bottom it says 3526—something about the illogicality of this sentence, which one must forgive the artist in his artistic freedom, but which is nonetheless very illogical, because—a golden tree: if it is an orange tree, then it is not green; and if it is another tree, then it is either not golden, or it is merely an artificial tree. In any case, a golden tree cannot be green. And on the other hand: theory—well, it certainly can’t be gray! It’s something you can’t even see, so it can’t be gray. So the whole thing isn’t logical.

[ 28 ] However, there are other commentators—more artistic types—who are pleased that things here aren't entirely logical.

[ 29 ] Well, what is actually underlying this? What underlies it is that, in this sentence, the emotional element of language, on the one hand, and the intellectual-visual element, on the other, stand out particularly strongly. When he says, “A golden tree,” he means a tree that one loves as much as gold, whereby the word “golden” no longer refers to visual perception but rather to the feeling one has when seeing this peculiar glow. So a golden tree is one that one feels the same way one feels about gold. Here, the focus is entirely on the feeling. And by “green,” a real tree is meant—one that can be seen: here, logic is taken into account. — Theory, after all, is not something one sees, although many people—justifiably or not—experience what you might feel when there is fog in London. Well, this feeling can then be transferred to the experience of theory. And in the gray, once again, lies the purely emotional element of language.

[ 30 ] But this emotional and intellectual element in language—they are intermingled everywhere. In today’s languages, much of this has already been dulled; but in earlier stages of a language’s development, there was everywhere an active, formative element, and thus the emotional was woven into the intellectual.

[ 31 ] Well, before the age of nine, a child’s relationship to language is entirely and solely emotional. But their sense of self could not develop if we did not introduce some intellectual element into the process. That is why it is so necessary to introduce this intellectual element to the child indirectly—through grammatical rules taught in a reasonable manner, first and foremost in the native language, but then perhaps also in a foreign language—with the rules following the child’s language acquisition process.

[ 32 ] The following should be taken into account: between the ages of nine and ten, the child should begin to feel that they are gaining an understanding of the language in the way I just described. In this way, one could instill in the child a true grammatical sense of the language.

[ 33 ] By around the age of twelve—and this is what we must keep in mind—the child should have developed a sense of the beauty of language, an aesthetic sensibility toward language, and should also strive, as they approach the age of twelve, to speak in a sensible way in what one might call “beautiful speech”; from then on until the age of sexual maturity, the child should first develop what is necessary for the use of language to persuade others: the dialectical element of language. The child should not be introduced to this element until leaving school age. So that one could say: What must gradually become clear to us regarding language is, first, a sense of the correctness of language as it lies in life itself—a sense of the beauty of language—and then a sense of the power one possesses in life through language. This is how everything pertaining to language instruction should be organized.

[ 34 ] It is far more important for the teacher and educator to find their way into such matters than to be given some ready-made curriculum with set goals. In this way, they will naturally incorporate what is appropriate into the various stages of life and address them accordingly. Through art and an artistic approach, they will guide children up to the ages of nine and ten toward the creative process—in which the child still actively participates—without neglecting the descriptive aspect.

[ 35 ] This is entirely possible if one chooses a course of study such as the one I have been discussing these past few days, in which the natural sciences are linked, on the one hand, to earthly geography, and the aspects relating to animals are brought closer to human beings. In particular, one will focus most on what is initially merely descriptive, and will be able to structure the descriptive material in such a way that it no longer fully absorbs the child’s attention, yet still engages the soul. One will therefore have to place great emphasis on telling stories to children in a lively and engaging way. And likewise, as I have already mentioned, one will treat history during this stage of life in such a way as to present complete pictures of human events.

[ 36 ] Then, as the child approaches the age of twelve, explanation—that is, consideration of cause and effect, which requires intellectual effort—can begin to be added to the processes of forming and describing. The child only begins to develop this capacity between the ages of eleven and twelve.

[ 37 ] Now, however, something must be covered over this entire period—namely, the study of mathematics in its various fields, naturally adapted to the child’s age. Mathematics—introducing arithmetic and geometry to the child—is something that poses very special difficulties for teaching and education. For it is truly the case that mathematical concepts, which are taught in their simplest form before the age of nine—since the child can grasp a great deal in this regard if one proceeds correctly— are then taught in increasingly complex ways throughout the entire school-age period—so that one must initially approach this in a very artistic manner, using all kinds of hands-on activities to introduce arithmetic and geometry to the child in an artistic way, and then, between the ages of nine and ten, move on to describing these fields.

[ 38 ] Children should certainly learn to examine angles, triangles, quadrilaterals, and so on in a descriptive manner; and proofs should generally not be introduced until after the age of twelve.

[ 39 ] Now, it is precisely the case with this subject that a boring teacher achieves very little or nothing at all, whereas the teacher who makes mathematics the most fascinating subject is the one who is fully immersed in it—a subject that, after all, truly allows us to experience the harmonious spatial idealism of the entire world. If a teacher can be enthusiastic about the Pythagorean theorem, if he can rave about the inner harmonies between planes and solids, then he will bring something to these lessons that is immensely important for the child, also with regard to the development of the soul. Then, through this element, he will counteract the confusion that life always entails.

[ 40 ] You see, there would be no language if language didn’t mix things up like this. That’s just a particularly extreme example, but we actually always speak this way in life—so much so that if we were to examine languages, we would find everywhere how emotion and thought blur into one another. And people would be thrown into a certain chaos of life—already through this in language and through many other things—if they did not gain that stability that one obtains precisely through mathematics. Anyone who looks more deeply into life knows how many people are spared from neurasthenia, hysteria, and even worse conditions simply by learning to look at triangles, quadrilaterals, tetrahedrons, and so on in the right way.

[ 41 ] Perhaps I may insert a subjective observation, intended solely as a symptomatic illustration. It is not merely for objective reasons, but in this case also quite certainly for subjective reasons, that I have a particular fondness for mechanics. And this is precisely because—since such things carry over into later life—I had a teacher at the Vienna University of Technology who presented mechanics in such a way that he was truly passionate about finding resultants from components. It was fascinating to watch how the man, with inner enthusiasm, derived resultants from components and then broke the resultants back down into components, and how, after practically leaping from one end of the blackboard to the other, he would just prance about, always beaming whenever he said something like, “® = a? + b?” When he was so captivated by a problem he’d written on the board and looked around at the audience with that friendly, smiling expression, it was truly something that could convey a sense of enthusiasm for analytical mechanics—a subject that doesn’t usually come easily to people. — But it is important that precisely this mathematical aspect—which must be distributed throughout the various stages of school life in the manner just described—that this mathematics should permeate the whole person.

[ 42 ] We then have these two poles within human development: on the one hand, the musical-artistic; on the other, the mathematical-ideal; and so, little by little, the human being truly grows into the world in such a way that the totality of their humanity is nurtured from within in the proper manner.

[ 43 ] As one approaches, through teaching and upbringing, the age at which the child is to be released from regular school, one already feels compelled to maintain an overview, in one’s own teaching practice, of what the most important factors are for the child’s development during this age of compulsory schooling. We receive the child from home into school when he or she is six or seven years old. We send him or her out into the world, so to speak, and we must ensure that he or she then—as I just indicated at the beginning of today’s reflections—finds the opportunity to adapt to the world. When we receive the child from home, he or she is, in a sense, a kind of large sensory organ. It carries within itself a kind of image, an imprint of its parents, other people in its environment, and its entire social milieu. And we must take what makes the child a kind of unique individual—we truly receive it as a kind of unique individual—and we must transform that into general humanity. We can do this in particular by acting upon the respiratory and circulatory systems—which are, after all, detached from the individual human being—and by appealing to this system. We must, in fact, in a certain way transform the “special human being” we receive into a more universal human being. But the child certainly carries something individual within itself, even when it first enters school. Not in the pronounced way we typically observe when these traits emerge one-sidedly in adults later in life, when we speak of the “temperaments” of individual people—such as the melancholic, sanguine, phlegmatic, and choleric temperaments; but the child’s disposition certainly has such a character that we can speak of children with melancholic, phlegmatic, sanguine, and choleric dispositions. And in the art of teaching and education, we must actually develop a keen understanding for recognizing everything connected with the child’s temperamental disposition, as well as for treating the child appropriately, depending on whether it has this or that temperamental disposition.

[ 44 ] The melancholic child is the one who is particularly dependent on his or her physicality, who is always led to turn inward because, due to his or her very special constitution, the body demands his or her attention. As a result, his or her attention is diverted from the outside world. The melancholic child should not automatically be labeled as inattentive. It is merely inattentive to the outside world and to the impressions coming from the teacher; but it is very attentive to its own states. Therefore, the melancholic child—I am always speaking of children; this cannot simply be applied to adults—therefore, the melancholic child is also a moody child, a child subject to mood swings.

[ 45 ] The phlegmatic child is so integrated into the world that, on a subconscious level, it is actually completely devoted to the world. And because the world is vast and there is so much in it—and the child is thus devoted to so many things—it takes no interest in what is right in front of it. What I am about to say does not, however, apply to adults, for otherwise it might easily seem as if I were trying to flatter phlegmatic people; I certainly do not intend to do that. But to put it somewhat radically, one could say: If the phlegmatic child were not right here on earth, but in heaven, in the world out there, it would take an extraordinarily strong interest in its surroundings, for it is actually predisposed toward the periphery of the world—toward the vast, which makes little impression precisely because it is so extensive—and that is what it is predisposed toward, not what is immediately at hand.

[ 46 ] The sanguine child is so disposed that, in a certain sense, he reveals the opposite of the melancholic and the opposite of the phlegmatic. The young melancholic is devoted to his physical body, while the phlegmatic is predisposed toward the wider world, toward the spherical realm, because he lives with his entire human being particularly deeply within his etheric or formative body. He is devoted to his entire being. Indeed, he disperses into the world just a few days after death.

[ 47 ] The sanguine child lives in what we call the astral body or the soul body. This soul body differs from the physical body and the etheric body in that it has no real interest in the temporal or the spatial. It exists outside of time and space. The astral body ensures that at every moment of our lives—even if experiences further back in time are fainter than more recent ones—we nevertheless carry our entire life within us continuously. The astral body is primarily the one that directs our dreams. Now you know that dreams, too, do not concern themselves much with the chronological course of life. We dream of something that happened yesterday; people from our very earliest childhood intermingle in these dreams. The astral body blends our entire life together, not according to the sequence of time and space, but in the way it jumbles things up—just as they are meant to be jumbled—as something entirely different from the temporal and spatial. The sanguine child is particularly devoted to this astral body, and this is expressed in its entire demeanor. It already perceives external impressions as if the timeless and spaceless were already given to us by the world itself. It quickly surrenders to an impression, does not process it, because it pays no heed to time. It is devoted to the astral body. It does not ensure that the impression remains within the human being’s essence. Nor does it readily recall the past; the sanguine child lives in the present moment because it takes no account of time, but rather expresses in its external life what the astral body is actually meant to unfold in a higher world. This gives the sanguine child a certain superficiality.

[ 48 ] And the choleric child is the one whose entire being is centered in the “I” or in egoity, where the entire physical aspect also finds expression in the nature of the will—which, in its egoity, manifests itself in such a way that the person, above all else, intervenes aggressively in life.

[ 49 ] As educators and teachers, one must truly develop a keen sensitivity to the characteristic melancholic, sanguine, and other such traits in growing children. One must approach the question of temperament in two ways. First, by introducing a certain social element into the school specifically through the lens of temperaments. One gains an overview of the melancholic children—or those with melancholic tendencies—in one’s class—the temperaments are also mixed, and all of this must be taken into account—and places, somewhere in the class where one deems it appropriate, a group of melancholic children, a group of phlegmatic children, another group of sanguine children, and a group of choleric children.

[ 50 ] It is good to bring together children of the same temperament, for the simple reason that when melancholic children sit together, they have other melancholics nearby, so that their temperaments rub against one another. The melancholic child sees in the other how it struggles with all sorts of things, how it is trapped within its own body. The child then recognizes this in itself as well, and the sight of the other exerts a healing effect on the melancholic child’s own disposition.

[ 51 ] If phlegmatic children have other phlegmatic children in their neighborhood, they will find them so boring that even their own phlegmatic nature will become agitated, and being forced to spend time with other phlegmatic children in their immediate vicinity will bring out a certain agitation in the phlegmatic child.

[ 52 ] Sanguine children, by being in the company of other sanguine children whom they see flitting from one impression to the next—so that they are interested in this one moment and that the next—want to brush them away like flies fluttering nearby; and as they perceive in others what they themselves possess, they become aware of the superficiality of their own sanguine temperament.

[ 53 ] And when you put the choleric types together, they shove each other around, and in a certain sense, this has a healing effect on their choleric temperament; for the bruises they sustain are something that has an exceptionally beneficial effect on the choleric temperament.

[ 54 ] Take a look at these things. You will see that when you introduce a kind of social element into the school in this way, it has an extraordinarily beneficial influence, and the teacher’s relationship to each individual’s temperament is also expressed in a certain way. The melancholic child—and indeed, children of all different temperaments—should not be treated in a way that does the opposite of what they are naturally inclined to do; one should get into the habit of treating like with like. So, for example, if one were to force a choleric child to sit still and be quiet, so much of that choleric energy would build up that it would have an even more toxic effect within the child. That simply won’t work. On the other hand, if, for example, one treats a melancholic child by responding to its moods and melancholy and showing interest in them, this will, in the long run, have a very healing effect. But take a phlegmatic child—treat them in such a way that, while you are genuinely interested in them inwardly, you outwardly display a kind of phlegmatic detachment toward the phlegmatic child. Treat the sanguine child by providing them with plenty of new experiences, thereby further enhancing their sanguine nature. Then the intensity it develops will be even greater when it has to absorb all these impressions than it would otherwise, and the result will be that the intensity is heightened by the sheer number of impressions. Thus, it is precisely by countering like with like that one can address the temperaments.

[ 55 ] And if all school conditions could be arranged ideally, I would love to send the hot-tempered children out into the garden in the afternoon, let them run around outside, and let them climb up and down trees until they were exhausted. When one is sitting up top, I would have him shout across to the other; they would have to shout at each other; they would have to tire themselves out. In this way—precisely by driving out that which the choleric temperament demands be driven out—the most beneficial influence is exerted on the choleric temperament.

[ 56 ] It is precisely by getting to know these things that one can have the appropriate impact in school. To achieve this, however, the teacher must bring something into the classroom that is immensely important. After all, if he wants to find his way in these matters, he really must not enter the classroom with a grumpy expression that reveals the wrinkles of old age even at an early stage in his career; rather, he must know how to conduct himself in the classroom with a sense of humor. He must know how to respond to everything he encounters in the classroom and be able to let his own nature flow into the child’s nature.

FAQs

[ 57 ] Dr. Steiner: Ladies and gentlemen, the first issue to be addressed—due to various people’s departures—is a practical one. When it comes to the practical implementation of the educational issues raised in this course, we may well draw on the Waldorf School. For my part, however, I would like to address a broader context. I believe that the practical implementation of what is being discussed here requires a genuine force arising from an observation of today’s civilization, as well as a certain enthusiasm.

[ 58 ] It seems to me that anyone who does not first recognize the need to channel educational impulses in the directions discussed here will hardly be able to undertake anything substantial in that direction.

[ 59 ] If I were to state my deepest conviction in this regard, it is this: for anyone who objectively observes the development of modern humanity within civilized regions, it must be perfectly clear that we are living in an era of cultural decline, and that all arguments put forward against this decline are, in fact, based solely on spurious grounds.

[ 60 ] It is indeed quite uncomfortable and sounds pessimistic—even though it is actually meant to be optimistic—when one speaks as I have just done; but there are so many outwardly visible signs of a declining civilization that, strictly speaking, this decline can already be seen. And only then does the question of education in the true sense arise in the heart and soul. And if I were to, so to speak, build on this admission, then I may also speak of the founding of the Waldorf School as the first example of a practical application of the educational principles referred to here.

[ 61 ] Why do we have a Waldorf school? You see, the Waldorf school—and this can certainly be said—owes its very existence to the assertion of these educational principles, these purely human educational principles. How did things come to be this way? They came to be this way because, in 1919, there was a total collapse throughout Central Europe—a collapse of economic, political, and spiritual life. One might perhaps also put it this way: a collapse of economic and political life and a total bankruptcy of spiritual life. These conditions existed in 1919 to such an extent that there was a general awareness of them—for about half a year, I would say, there was a complete awareness that this was the case. Until about the middle of 1919, there was an absolute awareness that this was the case.

[ 62 ] Now, there’s a lot of nonsense being spouted around the world about how humanity will recover once again—even in Central Europe—and how, after some time, it will work its way back up from the old conditions, and so on. Such nonsense stems from a complacent way of thinking. In truth, everything said along these lines is mere rhetoric. In truth, the decline is steadily accelerating. For Central Europe, the situation is simply this: in 1919, the downward slope began. And now the situation for Central Europe is like that of a person who was once better off and bought clothes back then. He has these clothes, and he wears them until they are completely worn out. The reasons why he cannot buy new ones have long since existed. But because he can still wear the old ones—for which he will no longer be able to buy new ones—he deludes himself about not being able to buy new ones for as long as even a scrap of the old ones remains. The whole world deludes itself about the fact that the very reasons for no longer being able to buy “cultured” clothes from the old circumstances are certainly present.

[ 63 ] Well, you see, in the first half of 1919 there was a mood to speak to people in a serious way, and at first the Waldorf School was not founded; instead, I gave my lectures on folk pedagogy, which initially contained—albeit in a more sketchy form at the time—what I have also said here today. And it made sense to some people. The Waldorf School emerged from that.

[ 64 ] I emphasize this explicitly because the fundamental prerequisite for practical work in this field is insight—the insight that arises from a genuine understanding of the conditions of education. And when the Waldorf School was founded, I said: It is certainly nice that such an example now exists, but that does not solve the problem; rather, the problem would only be solved—or at least the path to its solution would be laid—if at least a dozen Waldorf schools were established within a quarter.

[ 65 ] That hasn’t happened. Therefore, what has been done in this area so far cannot be regarded as a success; rather, we have only a single—as they say in German—model school. We do have one model. And even today, this model is by no means in the state one would like it to be. Let me give an example.

[ 66 ] In addition to the eurythmy hall, which we finally have now, we needed a large hall for general physical education. We don’t have that yet. So anyone who visits the Waldorf School and observes what is happening there should not yet consider that to be the ideal of the Waldorf School. Above all, the Waldorf School simply has no money and is on extremely shaky financial ground!

[ 67 ] Now I imagine that two things are necessary. The first is the dissemination of the idea of a purely human education based on a genuine understanding of human nature. This idea must first be thoroughly grasped. Everything must be done to thoroughly grasp this idea.

[ 68 ] You see, it does no good to, so to speak, pull the wool over one’s own eyes in such a serious matter, and so please allow me to speak quite freely and openly on this subject. I am often told, when these matters are discussed—and also when economic endeavors are discussed—that in England, one must do this or that so as not to offend people.

[ 69 ] Yes, if we just stop at this judgment, then we won’t get anywhere. We absolutely won’t get anywhere unless we resolve to move beyond the idea that, for example, we say: yes, in England everything must be translated into practical terms. That’s what we’ve done throughout five or six centuries in the civilized world—accepting only what could be immediately demonstrated. That’s precisely what’s bringing us down. And if we keep insisting on that, we’ll never escape the chaos.

[ 70 ] So this isn’t just about some petty matters; it’s actually about having the courage to provide a new impetus. People usually think I don’t understand when they tell me, “Yes, in England, everything has to be done differently.”—I understand that quite well, but it doesn’t get to the heart of the matter at all! And basically, if, for example, we hadn’t—I’d like to say “misfortune,” though for the practical establishment of the Waldorf School it was a stroke of luck—if we hadn’t had the misfortune of being in a terrible situation in Central Europe in 1919 and thereby encountering serious-minded people, then we wouldn’t have been able to have a Waldorf School in Central Europe for entirely different reasons. For in Central Europe, a completely new impulse is all the more necessary, for the simple reason that Central Europe—and Germany in particular—has not the slightest sense of organization—or, in fact, of social structure. When people outside Central Europe constantly speak of “German organization,” this is nothing more than a misconception. There is no talent for organization whatsoever. Above all, there is no structured national organism; rather, there is a cultural life that exists within individual people, but which does not exist in the collective at all. German universities, for example, are not in the least an expression of true German identity. German universities are entirely abstract entities; they are not in the least an expression of German identity in any way. German identity, as such, exists only within individual people. This is, of course, only a hint, but it is at the same time an indication that if one still appeals today in Central Europe to any kind of general sentiment or the like, one encounters nothing; everywhere one encounters only incomprehension toward such things as those that have been asserted here. So the Waldorf School owes its existence to an unfortunate stroke of luck.

[ 71 ] Now the point is, in addition to this—that, first of all, the insight, the genuine insight, must be present for a necessary continuation in the sense intended here; and that, furthermore, it should come to pass that where such an unfortunate stroke of luck is not present—where one could truly, out of insight and out of the most immediate human initiative, establish something like the Waldorf School—it would come into being there.

[ 72 ] So, for example, if something like the Waldorf School were to emerge in England—it would, of course, have to be adapted to the specific circumstances of that country and its people—but if it were to emerge, it would likely indeed be a powerful step forward.

[ 73 ] Isn't it true that, when I saw that the Waldorf school movement wasn't working out—because the Waldorf school had remained isolated—I then tried to promote the idea of the “World School Association,” since, after all, one thing must be noted: You see, at least in Central Europe, we have witnessed a very strong expansion of the anthroposophical movement in recent years. The anthroposophical movement is today a force in the Central European world. As a spiritual movement, it is a force. We have no organization to steer or guide this movement in any way. The Anthroposophical Society—this must be said, for it is good that it be recognized—the Anthroposophical Society is not in a position to sustain the anthroposophical movement. For the Anthroposophical Society is so deeply permeated by sectarian tendencies that it simply cannot sustain the anthroposophical movement as it is today, as it has developed. But I wanted to appeal one last time to those forces that might have existed within the Anthroposophical Society, in the hope that perhaps a final effort might emerge from them to promote something like the “World School Association.” It did not happen. The “World School Association” is buried. For, isn’t it true, one cannot merely talk about such a thing—it must be taken up in a practical way. For that, a certain number of people must be present. So the “World School Association” as such is buried.

[ 74 ] The Waldorf School in Stuttgart emerged from the German Revolution—not as a revolutionary school, but out of the spirit of the revolution. But if, in a place where the global situation is fully understood, something like a Waldorf School were to be established with full understanding—as in England—then we would make some progress.

[ 75 ] Perhaps I can say a little more about that later, once the discussion has been going on for a while.

[ 76 ] Professor Mackenzie (briefly translated by Mr. Kaufmann): Professor Mackenzie explains that there are indeed certain individuals from England here—individuals who are already in a position to bring about change in this direction and to exert influence, and who, out of a sense of the evolving needs of humanity and the world, wish to undertake something in line with these educational impulses. And as a first step in this direction, we hope that we will succeed in inviting Dr. Steiner to England in the course of this year, and that we will also succeed in creating, in the preparatory work for such an invitation, the right atmosphere and understanding from which a number of prominent figures and educators will be able to welcome Dr. Steiner in the true spirit of the matter.

[ 77 ] Dr. Steiner: I would like to add that, of course, something like this needs to be undertaken only once in a practical sense, and that it would be harmful to talk about it too much. The point is that those who are in a position to take a step forward in this direction should lay the groundwork, and that when the right time comes, progress should be made in the proper manner.

[ 78 ] It will certainly be in the best interests of Ms. Mackenzie and the others if friends visiting from other countries who wish to offer suggestions or ideas approach some of us individually and bring the matter up.

[ 79 ] Mrs. K., The Hague: There has been a great deal of talk about England today, and we are very pleased about that; we consider it useful. But we, from our small Dutch country, have various concerns on our minds; in fact, we have come here with a profound sense of guilt. The idea of the “World School Association” was first voiced in the Netherlands, and in truth, we did not do what we could have done; in part, this was due to misunderstandings, and in part, to a lack of resources. But we have not been as inactive as one might think, and I assure you that we are more than willing, in every respect, to make up for this mistake as much as possible. And I would nevertheless like to ask Dr. Steiner to tell us whether the path he has proposed for England is also feasible for the Netherlands. And since Dr. Steiner has promised to visit us in April, I would like to ask whether it might be possible to speak about this matter before a larger educational audience.

[ 80 ] Dr. Steiner: There is, in fact, a plan in place for the Netherlands—which, as far as I know, is already being implemented—to hold a university course from April 5 to 12 of this year, which, similar to other university courses, is intended to give anthroposophy serious prominence in the Netherlands as well.

[ 81 ] It was certainly rather disheartening, however, that after the need to do something for anthroposophy in the Netherlands had long been pointed out, and after lectures and performances took place there in February and early March of last year, there was in fact—not in terms of an understanding of anthroposophy, for I cannot mean that, but rather in terms of the inner state of the Anthroposophical Society in the Netherlands—a decline that was very clearly perceptible. And so it seems to me that it is indeed very necessary for the anthroposophical movement to be taken up anew and with fresh vigor, particularly in the Netherlands. From which direction this will happen will, of course, depend on the existing conditions; it may, of course, also come from the educational movement. A question has been raised here specifically in this regard:

[ 82 ] X: Dutch law allows for the possibility of establishing a free school if a serious attempt is made to do so. If we were unable to obtain funding in the Netherlands by any other means, would it be possible to establish a free school with state subsidies, provided that we retain complete autonomy over the curriculum?

[ 83 ] Dr. Steiner: Well, there is one aspect of this question that I don’t quite understand, and another that I find questionable. What I don’t quite understand is that in Holland, one is not supposed to receive any money for a truly free school! Forgive me if this is perhaps naive, but I simply don’t understand it. For I do believe that if the enthusiasm is great enough, then it is possible to at least get started. After all, it doesn’t take that much money to get started.

[ 84 ] The other thing I find doubtful is whether it will be possible to do this with state subsidies. For it seems doubtful to me that the state would not insist on exercising oversight over the school if it provides subsidies. So I don’t believe that a truly free school could be established with subsidies—that is, under state supervision.

[ 85 ] I would say that it was, in fact, a stroke of luck in Stuttgart that the Waldorf School was founded just before the Republican National Assembly passed an education law under which such a school could not be established; for, isn’t it true that we lose more and more freedom the more liberalism spreads? And it is likely that today, with “progress” reigning in Germany, it would no longer be possible to establish the Waldorf School in Stuttgart. But it was founded beforehand. And now—today the world is taking notice of the Waldorf School, and it will be allowed to continue until the movement that created the so-called elementary school becomes so powerful that, out of some kind of fanaticism, they will take away its first four grades. I hope that this can be prevented, but we are indeed heading toward truly dreadful times in this regard. And that is precisely why I so often emphasize that it is necessary to do what needs to be done soon; for a wave is spreading across the world that is clearly heading toward a totalitarian state. And it is indeed the case that Western civilization is exposing itself to the danger of one day simply being overwhelmed by a culture of some sort that is Asian in nature and that possesses a certain spiritual quality. People do not want to see this, but that is what will happen.

[ 86 ] Isn't it true that, in my opinion, believing one must first claim state subsidies is really just a way of delaying the matter? I wouldn't expect much to come of it. But perhaps someone else disagrees. I simply ask everyone today to express their opinions very freely.

[ 87 ] X explains that it is currently not possible to establish a school in the Netherlands without government interference; for example, the government requires that a certain curriculum be followed, and so on.

[ 88 ] Dr. Steiner: Isn’t it true that if these things didn’t exist, I would never have done anything that leans toward a certain theory—like the World School Association—and I would never have actually chosen the World School Association back then. But precisely because these things exist, I thought that the World School Association would be, at first, something practical. The thing is:

[ 89 ] Take, for example, the small school we had here in Dornach. As I have mentioned several times here in recent days, it was precisely because of a lack of funds—or rather, an abundance of it—that we were only able to establish a very small school. Well, in this small school, children under the age of ten were mixed with those over ten. Now, in the state—which is called a canton here—of Solothurn, there is a very strict school law, which, however, does not differ very much from the other strict school laws in Switzerland in general; it is such a strict school law that, when the state of Solothurn realized that children under the age of fourteen were being taught here, it simply declared it to be impossible. That doesn’t happen. And no matter what one might try to do here, one would never be able to realize any of the Waldorf school ideas for children under fourteen. And of course, the project encounters obstacles almost everywhere, at least on the continent. As for the situation in England, I don’t dare to say for certain at the moment; but if it were possible there to establish a truly free school, that would be an excellent thing. And precisely because, wherever one actually seeks to establish such schools in practice, one encounters resistance, I believed that the World School Association is, after all, primarily a practical endeavor—for I envisioned it on a grand scale, since it would create a global atmosphere conducive to the very possibility of establishing free schools. That is to say, it would have to go against the current—which, after all, reaches its peak precisely in Bolshevism in Russia—against this current, which finds its culmination in the state-compulsory school system but is otherwise present everywhere—one simply does not see that Lunacharsky is merely the ultimate consequence of what is already present in embryonic form throughout Europe; as long as it suits one, one does not see that it exists—so I mean, a movement would have to be initiated that moves in the opposite direction: Lunacharsky = turning the state absolutely into a great machine, with human beings as cogs within it. The other movement would have to be aimed at educating people.

[ 90 ] That is precisely what is necessary. You see, in this regard, one actually experiences the most heart-wrenching things within the anthroposophical movement. We can, after all, launch a genuine medical movement today from within the anthroposophical movement. All the prerequisites are there. But what would also be necessary is a movement that would present the cause to the world. Yet everywhere there is another tendency among people, namely, to brand the individual who can in some way advocate for a purely human form of medicine as a “quack”—that is, to demand that he act in violation of the law. I could, for example—and I say this only as an example; it has nothing to do with the medical movement of anthroposophy—but I could name a minister who, in the German Reichstag, advocated a strict law against what still exists in Germany—namely, the freedom of the healing profession—and yet, for his own family, he went to unlicensed healers to have them treated. In other words, he did not trust official medicine for his own family, but rather the kind of healing he now sought to label as “quackery” through the law.

[ 91 ] This is a symptom of sectarian tendencies. A movement is not sectarian if it strives to present itself freely to the world—and with full legal standing—so that there can be no doubt regarding its legal status.

[ 92 ] That is what I meant the World School Association should do: create a global movement in favor of laws that freely permit the establishment of schools based on pedagogical necessity. Schools can never be established based on majority decisions. Therefore, they cannot be public schools.

[ 93 ] So that is what I mean when I say this—even about the World School Association, which I otherwise find completely unsympathetic. I find it unsympathetic because it is an association, a form of propaganda; I prefer action based entirely on objective facts, not agitation, not propaganda. These are all appalling things to me. But when one’s hands are tied, when it is simply impossible anywhere to establish free schools, then one must first create the atmosphere that makes these free schools possible. Compromises may, of course, be justified in this or that area, but we live today in a time when every compromise leads us even further into disaster.

[ 94 ] Question: What is the best way for us to participate in political life?

[ 95 ] Dr. Steiner: ... I do believe, however, that we are straying too far from the heart of the matter when we bring the profoundly significant questions at hand into the realm of current politics, because I can hardly expect anything positive from today’s current politics until it has been regenerated from foundations entirely different from those that currently exist in the countries known to me on the physical plane. I mean, the decisive decline is so clearly evident in this very area that one can see why—I would say—the movement toward the threefold social order is necessary, as it were, as a subsidiary movement of the anthroposophical movement.

[ 96 ] What, then, has the non-threefold social organism—if I am to briefly, and therefore perhaps misleadingly, allude to it—what, then, has the non-threefold social organism achieved? It has led to a situation where the destinies of nations are actually determined by political parties whose platforms are, at their core, nothing but empty rhetoric. It cannot be claimed at all that what is used today as rhetoric for this or that party is anything real.

[ 97 ] I pointed out the other day how Bismarck, who in his later years was certainly an ultramonarchist—he was, as he himself admits, a rather bashful, covert republican in his youth, but then became a staunch monarchist—how Bismarck said the very same thing that Robespierre said. Of course, one can say all sorts of things. But what matters is the party—what really comes to light when, so to speak, the inner workings of the parties are revealed.

[ 98 ] You see, for years I was a teacher at the Berlin Workers’ Educational School, which was a purely Social Democratic institution. I was always happy to speak the truth wherever people were willing to hear it. I therefore never took offense at speaking the truth here or there, even if the organizations in which I was active were of one political persuasion or another according to their programs or party views. Now, even among these people—who, in terms of their party affiliation, were staunch Marxists—I taught a thoroughly anthroposophical perspective in both the natural sciences and history; even in the speech classes I gave, I was able to assert what I believed to be true. And the school kept growing larger and larger. And lo and behold, the Social Democratic party leaders took notice, and it was enough that three or four people were present at a decisive meeting—where all my students were also present and unanimously in favor of my continuing to teach—but a few people, as staunch party leaders, were there who declared: such teaching must not be allowed; it undermines the very essence of the Social Democratic Party. I said: “Yes, but the Social Democratic Party also wants to work toward the future, and humanity is ultimately moving toward freedom; and if one wants a school of the future, one must truly stand on the foundation of a free school.” Then a true party man stood up and said: “Freedom in education—we don’t know that; we know only reasonable coercion.” — From that point on, everything else unfolded that ultimately made it impossible to continue that form of instruction.

[ 99 ] It is my firm conviction—and this may seem rather silly and arrogant, but it is nonetheless my conviction—that, since I taught these classes and the class sizes grew larger and larger from year to year at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, it is my firm conviction: if this movement had been able to continue back then, conditions in Central Europe would have been different in the second decade. Well, as I said, it may seem silly, but I would still like to say it.

[ 100 ] Well, I don’t have a very high opinion of what could be achieved through party politics. With any socialist party, you will be least able to establish any kind of free school system. Socialist parties strive, in the most unbelievable way, precisely for the downfall of all school freedom. The Christian parties, of course, are in a position where they have to call for free schools in opposition to the current state. But the moment they were at the helm, they would naturally claim this freedom only for themselves. So it is indeed the case that in public life we must say: we cannot move forward without first laying the foundation in the threefold social order, where the democratic element is located only in the middle section—the realm of law. And then the practical possibility of a free school system arises quite naturally. But this cannot be achieved through the electoral process.

[ 101 ] Z. asks to what extent, if the children of today’s generation were raised according to the principles of anthroposophical knowledge, this would be sufficient to ward off the forces of decay and decadence, or whether—assuming that the children of this generation were, on the whole, raised according to these principles of anthroposophical insight—it would not nevertheless also be necessary to try to send them out into the world with the conscious intention of transforming today’s social order and shaping a new social organism?

[ 102 ] Dr. Steiner: It is difficult to fully grasp the basis for what I attempted to elaborate on in my book *The Key Points of the Social Question* regarding the threefold structure of the social organism; the reasons that led to this book date back decades.... It has come to pass that humanity today is at a point in its development where, with regard to social life and social opinions, someone could come along with the most correct views—yet they would have no possibility of seeing a correct opinion realized through any of the means currently available for putting opinions into practice. The issue today is that we must first bring people into such circumstances that, through social interaction, they actually make the realization of opinions and insights possible.

[ 103 ] Therefore, I do not believe it is productive to ask whether, if a generation were educated as is intended here, the corresponding social conditions would come about, or whether a restructuring of the social order in one direction or another would still be necessary; rather, I would like to say that the situation is this: we must be clear that the best we can achieve would already be attained simply by succeeding in advancing as many members of a generation as possible in the spirit of a general human education. And then the second question would, in fact, become moot from a practical standpoint. For whatever might be considered regarding such a restructuring would be considered precisely by the people educated in this way. Because they would have entered into different human relationships than are possible today, they would have different conditions for the realization of their views.

[ 104 ] Well, I mean, what really matters is that if we want to be practical people, we should think in practical, not theoretical, terms. And thinking practically means doing what is possible—not realizing an ideal, but doing what is possible. The most promising approach is to educate as many people of a generation as possible in the way that human understanding allows, and to trust that these people—educated as correctly as possible—will then bring about a social order that is desirable.

[ 105 ] The second question can only be answered in practice—not theoretically—with the people we have recruited for that purpose. That is what I mean.

[ 106 ] Perhaps I may now answer a question that was submitted in writing:

[ 107 ] Question: What is the best way to incorporate what we have heard here into lessons for children with severe intellectual disabilities?

[ 108 ] Dr. Steiner: I would like to follow up with a practical example. When I myself was about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, I was called to serve as a tutor in a family with four boys. Three of the boys were relatively easy to educate; one of them, at the age of eleven, was in the following situation: by the age of seven, he was supposed to be taught in the manner of elementary school, albeit privately. Now—this took place in Austria—in Austria it was, after all, possible for anyone to teach freely, because the only requirement was that the instruction, however it was provided, be demonstrated by having the children take an exam at the end of the year. They could take their exam at any school at the end of the year; but they could be taught by angels or devils—it didn’t matter, as long as they could pass the exam.

[ 109 ] Well then, among these four boys was one who had already completed four or nearly five years of elementary school. I was given the last sketchbook—he was eleven years old—that he had brought back from his exam. In the other subjects, he had either remained completely silent or talked nonsense, writing nothing on the paper. But at least he had submitted the drawing book as the only document for this exam, and it consisted of a large hole on the first page. He had done nothing but draw something and then erase it again, repeating this until there was a large hole. So that was the result of his exam. Incidentally, there were times when he wouldn’t speak a word to anyone for weeks on end. He also took to refusing to eat at the table for a while, instead going into the kitchen and eating from the containers where the scraps were put—not the actual meals, but the scraps.

[ 110 ] I am describing these symptoms to you so that you can see that we were dealing with a child who fell into the category of those who can already be described as “severely mentally disabled.”

[ 111 ] Now I was told: of course, there was nothing to be done with the child, since everything had already been tried; and even the family doctor—who, incidentally, was one of the leading physicians in that city, a truly respected man—had given up on him, and the family was deeply distressed. They didn’t know what to do with him. I said they should let me take the boy, just like the others, and simply grant me complete freedom to do with him whatever I deemed appropriate for the next three years. I couldn’t get the family to agree to this—except for the mother. For certain reasons, mothers sometimes have a real instinct for such things. The boy was entrusted to me. I structured the lessons so that they were based, above all, on the principle that what is termed “mental retardation” must be approached entirely from the perspective of physicality—that is, everything that is to be done must be carried out from the same points of view that I had just discussed for healthy children. It is simply a matter of gaining the ability to look into the inner being of a person. The child had severe hydrocephalus. It was therefore very difficult to treat him. But it was essential to uphold the principle: education must be healing; it must be based on medical principles.

[ 112 ] And after two and a half years, I had brought the boy to the point where he was ready to begin his high school studies, because we had finally succeeded in educating him in a practical way. At times, I limited the boy’s schoolwork to a quarter of an hour—or at most half an hour—a day; however, in order to ensure that the right material was covered in that half hour, I sometimes had to spend four hours preparing for it, so that I could structure everything efficiently and ensure he was under absolutely no strain. I did everything exactly as I saw fit. I had, after all, reserved the right to do so; I had therefore arranged for as many music lessons as I deemed appropriate—increasing them, I might say, from week to week—and I also observed how his physical constitution gradually transformed. And I certainly did not let anyone tell me otherwise. The rest of the family, except for his mother, raised some objections whenever the boy turned pale again and again. I explained: “He’s mine, after all, and I have the right to let him turn pale—very pale indeed—he’ll turn red again when the time comes.”

[ 113 ] Well then, the point was that the boy was raised with an understanding of physical development, and that all mental and emotional measures were taken with this in mind.

[ 114 ] I believe that this varies quite individually for every child. You have to know the person intimately. That is why I say that a true understanding of the person is essential. And if I wanted to answer the question: How old is the boy really? How should I treat him?—I would have to say that the boy was, in reality, about the age of a child—as he was when I first met him—a child of two and a quarter years old, and he had to be treated accordingly, even though he had apparently—that is, according to the civil birth registry—reached the age of eleven; he had to be treated in accordance with reality. However, through a program of psychological and practical instruction—which was initially based entirely on the principle of imitation, so that we systematically worked toward imitation first, and then transitioned to what I have today called “formation”—but always with constant consideration for his health—he was brought to the point in two and a half years where he was able to begin his high school studies. I continued to help him even while he was attending high school. He was then free from any further guidance, was able to complete the last two grades independently, went on to become a physician, practiced for many years, and then, at about the age of forty, during the World War, died in Poland from an infection he had contracted during the war.

[ 115 ] This is one example—and I could cite many others—that shows just how important it is, especially for children with intellectual disabilities, to work toward this principle, which was emphasized just this morning for children without disabilities. At the Waldorf School, we have a number of children with mild intellectual disabilities and, as is said here, those with severe intellectual disabilities. The children with severe intellectual disabilities naturally disrupt the other children in the class. Therefore, under the direction of Dr. Schubert, we have established a special class for children with intellectual disabilities, where children with intellectual disabilities from all grades are brought together. But whenever it comes to designating a child for the class for children with intellectual disabilities, I always—I would say—have the pleasure of having to engage in a struggle with the teacher of the class in question. No teacher really wants to give up a child, and everyone fights for that child; they strive to the very end to keep that child among the others, and they often succeed. For even though our classes are not small, because instruction is individualized, we are able to include even such children. So children with severe intellectual disabilities are indeed all together in our special education class. But it is essential to educate them in a completely individualized manner. So Dr. Schubert treats each child according to his or her own needs, and above all, with such children, he has no set educational goals; instead, he lets the child’s nature dictate the approach and, under certain circumstances, works with the child in ways that are quite different from standard school practices. The point is to truly find the appropriate—I would say—help for each individual child.

[ 116 ] For example, there are children who are severely mentally disabled, and as one gradually learns to recognize this, one discovers that they simply process mental images so slowly that they lose track of them. They lose the images; they are unable to form them. This is just one example. You can actually achieve something with these children—with a certain type of child—if you don’t do anything typical of school with them, but instead, for example, simply tell a child—if they understand words; we also have some who don’t even understand words, in which case you have to do it differently—‘Quickly grab your left earlobe with your thumb and index finger of your right hand!’ Quickly grab your right upper arm with your left hand!”—If you let them orient themselves in this way—first toward themselves and then toward the outside world—you can achieve quite a lot with such children by quickly helping them recognize something: “What is this?” (An ear is drawn.) It really isn’t that easy to get the child to say, “Ear.” But the key lies in this process of recognition and so on: that is, it lies in the most varied things one must devise, through which one first awakens the child. For many children, this awakening, this becoming active, has an effect—though of course not for the rowdy ones; in that case, one must use other methods. But that’s the general idea. It’s a matter of individualized treatment, and that must be based on a genuine understanding of human nature.