Philosophy of the Modern Era

Hegel

The philosophy of Hegel (1770—1831) represents the culmination of the development of German philosophy, which began with Kant. Although Hegel frequently criticized Kant, his own system could never have arisen without Kant’s foundational work. Hegel’s influence, though diminished today, was once profoundly significant, extending beyond Germany. By the late 19th century, most leading academic philosophers in both America and Britain were largely Hegelians. In addition to philosophy itself, many Protestant theologians adopted his teachings, and his philosophy of history deeply impacted political theory. It is well known that Marx was a student of Hegel in his youth, retaining some essential Hegelian traits in the final form of his system. Even if, as I believe, nearly all of Hegel's teachings are erroneous, they still possess a value that transcends mere historical interest, as they most vividly represent a particular type of philosophy that is less coherent and all-encompassing in others.

Hegel’s life was unremarkable in terms of events. In his youth, he gravitated strongly towards mysticism, and in some respects, his later views can be seen as the intellectualization of what initially appeared to him in a mystical form, as a kind of insight. He taught philosophy first as a privat-docent in Jena (notably completing his "Phenomenology of Spirit" a day before the Battle of Jena), then in Nuremberg, and later as a professor at Heidelberg University (1816—1818) and finally at Berlin University from 1818 until his death. In his later years, he became a Prussian patriot and loyal civil servant who enjoyed his recognized philosophical preeminence in tranquility. However, in his youth, he held Prussia in disdain and admired Napoleon to such an extent that he rejoiced at the French victory at Jena.

Hegel's philosophy is notoriously difficult. I must admit that he is the most challenging of all the great philosophers to understand. Before delving into the details of his philosophy, it may prove helpful to pause and consider its general characteristics.

Starting from his early fascination with mysticism, Hegel maintained the belief in the unreality of the singular. In his view, the world is not a collection of strictly limited units—atoms or souls—each entirely self-sufficient. The immediate existence of such finite things seems to him an illusion; he posits that nothing exists absolutely and completely in reality except for the whole. However, he differs from Parmenides and Spinoza in that he sees the whole not as a mere substance but as a complex system, akin to what we might call an organism. The apparent separate entities that constitute the world are not mere illusions. Each possesses varying degrees of reality, and their reality lies in their being aspects of the whole, which must be discerned through genuine consideration. This perspective naturally entails a disbelief in the reality of time and space as such, for time and space, when regarded as fully real, encompass singularity and multiplicity. All of this first emerged for him as a mystical “insight”; the logical development articulated in his writings came later.

Hegel asserts that all that is truly rational is real, and all that is real is rational. However, when he makes this claim, he does not mean “real” in the sense understood by an empiricist. He allows and even insists that what empiricists perceive as facts may be irrational and ought to be so; only after their immediate character is transformed by considering them as aspects of the whole can they be evaluated as rational. Nevertheless, the identification of the rational with the real inevitably leads to a certain complacency, inseparable from the belief that “whatever exists is right.”

The whole, in all its complexity, is termed by Hegel the Absolute. The Absolute is spiritual. The Spinozan view that the absolute possesses the attribute of extension, just as it does the attribute of thought, is rejected.

Two aspects distinguish Hegel from those who hold a more or less similar metaphysical worldview. One is his emphasis on logic; Hegel contends that the nature of reality can be deduced from the sole consideration that it must be self-consistent. The other distinguishing feature (which is closely related to the first) is the triadic movement known as dialectics. Hegel’s most important works are his two "Logics," which must be understood if we wish to grasp the foundations of his views as he applies them to other matters.

For Hegel, the logic he refers to is synonymous with metaphysics; it is something entirely distinct from what is commonly termed logic. His position is that any ordinary predicate, when taken as a characterization of the real whole, reveals self-contradiction. A rough example can be drawn from Parmenides’ theory, in which the one that is real is spherical. Nothing can be spherical unless it has boundaries, and nothing can have boundaries unless there exists something (at least empty space) outside of it. Therefore, the assumption that the universe as a whole must be spherical is self-contradictory. (This reasoning, when viewed from the perspective of non-Euclidean geometry, might be called into question, but it serves as an illustration.) Alternatively, consider another example, even more rudimentary, too crude for Hegel to employ. One can assert without apparent contradiction that A is an uncle. Yet, if one were to claim that the universe is an uncle, one would find oneself in a difficult position. An uncle is a person who has a nephew, and a nephew is an individual distinct from the uncle; hence, the uncle cannot be the entirety of reality.

This illustration can also be utilized to elucidate dialectics, which consists of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. First, we assert: “Reality is an uncle.” This is the thesis. However, the existence of an uncle implies the existence of a nephew. Since there exists nothing real except for the Absolute, and we now affirm the existence of a nephew, we must conclude: “The Absolute is the nephew.” This is the antithesis. But there is an equal objection to this as to the claim that the Absolute is an uncle. Therefore, we arrive at the view that the Absolute is a whole consisting of both uncle and nephew. This is the synthesis. Yet this synthesis is still unsatisfactory because a person can be an uncle only if he has a brother or sister who are the parents of the nephew. Thus, we are led to expand our universe by including the brother or sister, along with his wife or her husband. It is believed that in this manner, through sheer logical force, we can arrive from any proposed predicate of the Absolute to a final conclusion of dialectics known as the “absolute idea.” Throughout this process runs the fundamental assumption that nothing can be genuinely true if it is not considered in relation to reality as a whole.

This foundational assumption is grounded in traditional logic, which posits that every proposition contains a subject and a predicate. According to this view, each fact is encapsulated in something possessing a certain quality. Consequently, it follows that relations cannot be real, for they involve two entities rather than one. The term “uncle” denotes a relationship, and a person may become an uncle without being aware of it. In such a case, from an empirical standpoint, the fact that he becomes an uncle does not influence him. He does not acquire a quality that he did not previously possess, if by "quality" we mean something essential to describe him as he is in himself, apart from his relationships with others and things. The only way for subject-predicate logic to evade this difficulty is to assert that truth is not a property of only the uncle or only the nephew, but of the whole, consisting of both the uncle and the nephew. Since everything, aside from the whole, relates to external entities, it follows that nothing entirely true can be said about individual things, and that in reality, only the whole is real. This conclusion arises more directly from the fact that "A and B are two" is not a subject-predicate statement, and thus, based on traditional logic, cannot constitute such a statement. Therefore, there are not two things in the world; only the whole, regarded as a unity, is real.

The reasoning outlined above does not appear explicitly in Hegel's work, but it is implicit in his system, as it is in the systems of many other metaphysicians.

Let us illustrate Hegel's dialectical method with several examples that may facilitate understanding. The arguments in his logic commence with the assumption that "the absolute is pure being." We accept that it simply exists, attributing no qualities to it. However, pure being devoid of any qualities is nothing. Hence, we arrive at the antithesis: "the absolute is nothing." From this thesis and antithesis, we progress to the synthesis: "the unity of being and non-being is becoming," and thus we assert, "the absolute is becoming." This, of course, will not satisfy us, for there must be something that is in the process of becoming. Therefore, our perceptions of reality evolve through a continual rectification of prior errors, all stemming from excessive abstraction, which takes something finite or limited as though it could be whole. "The finite is not negated by the infinite as a force external to it; its own infinitude consists in that it negates itself."

According to Hegel, the process is essential for understanding the outcome. Each subsequent stage of the dialectic encompasses all previous stages in a negated form; none of them is entirely replaced, but each is assigned its own place as a moment of the whole. It is, therefore, impossible to attain truth without traversing all the steps of the dialectic.

Knowledge as a whole possesses a triadic movement. It begins with sensory perception, where there is only awareness of the object. Then, passing through skeptical criticism of the senses, it becomes purely subjective. Finally, it reaches the stage of self-consciousness, where object and subject are no longer distinguished. Thus, self-consciousness represents the highest form of knowledge. This, of course, must be the case in Hegel's system, for the highest form of knowledge must be that which the absolute possesses, and since the absolute is a whole, there is nothing outside itself that could be known.

In perfect thinking, according to Hegel, thoughts become fluid and intertwined. Truth and falsehood are not sharply separated opposites, as is commonly believed. Nothing is wholly false, and nothing we can know is wholly true. "We can know with certainty what is false," occurs when we ascribe absolute truth to certain individual pieces of information. A question like "where was Caesar born?" has a direct answer that is true in some sense, but not in a philosophical sense. For philosophy, "truth is the whole," and nothing partial can be entirely true.

"Reason," Hegel asserts, "is the conscious certainty of the being of all that is real." This does not imply that an individual is the entirety of reality. In its separation, it is not wholly real, but what is real in it is its participation in reality as a whole. Proportionally, as we become more reasonable, this participation increases.

The absolute idea, which concludes the "Logic," resembles the God of Aristotle. It is thought thinking itself. It is clear that the absolute cannot think anything but itself, as there exists nothing beyond our private and erroneous pathways of comprehending reality. We are told that spirit is the only reality, and that its thought reflects itself in self-consciousness. The actual words that define the absolute idea are unclear. Wallace translates them as follows: "The absolute idea. The idea as the unity of subjective and objective ideas is the concept of the idea, the object (Gegenstand) of which is the idea as such, and for which it is the object, encompassing all definitions in their unity."

The original German text is even more challenging. The essence of the matter, however, is somewhat less convoluted than Hegel presents it. The absolute idea is pure thought thinking itself. This is everything that God accomplishes through the ages; indeed, it is a professor’s god! Hegel continues: "This unity is, therefore, the absolute and complete truth, the idea thinking itself."

I now turn to consider a single feature of Hegel’s philosophy that distinguishes it from the philosophy of Plato, Plotinus, or Spinoza. Although the final reality is timeless, and time is merely an illusion born from our inability to perceive the whole, the temporal process is closely linked with the purely logical process of the dialectic. World history has, in fact, unfolded through categories, from pure being in China (of which Hegel knew nothing beyond its occurrence) to the absolute idea, which apparently approaches realization, if not fully realized, in the Prussian state. I cannot discern any justification, based on his own metaphysics, for the view that world history replicates the transitions of the dialectic; however, this is a thesis he developed in his "Philosophy of History." It was an intriguing thesis, lending unity and significance to revolutions in human affairs. Like other historical theories, it required, to be plausible, some distortion of facts and considerable ignorance. Hegel, like Marx and Spengler, who lived after him, possessed both of these qualities. It is strange that a process represented as cosmic should entirely take place on our planet, primarily in the Mediterranean region. If reality is timeless, there is no reason to assume that later stages of the process must embody higher categories than earlier stages, unless one adopts the blasphemous assumption that the universe has been continually studying Hegel's philosophy.

According to Hegel, the temporal process proceeds from lesser perfection to greater perfection, both ethically and logically. In reality, these two realms are for him essentially indistinguishable, as logical perfection consists in being intricately woven into a whole, devoid of any flaws, independent parts, but united, much like the human body or, more precisely, like the rational spirit, in an organism whose parts are interdependent and act collaboratively toward a singular goal. This, in turn, manifests ethical perfection. A few quotes below will illustrate Hegel’s theory: “...Like the driver of souls, Mercury, the idea is indeed the driver of nations and the world, and it is spirit, its rational and necessary will, that has guided and continues to guide the chorus of world events: to study spirit, as it possesses this guiding role, is our goal here.” “But the only thought that philosophy brings with it is the simple thought of reason, that reason reigns in the world, so that, consequently, the universal historical process unfolds rationally. This conviction and understanding are prerequisites concerning history as such; in philosophy itself, this is not a presupposition. Through speculative knowledge, it is demonstrated that reason—here we may continue to use this expression without clarifying its relationship to God—exists both as substance and as infinite power; it is for itself the infinite content of all natural and spiritual life, as well as the infinite form—manifestation of this content. Reason is substance.” “But it is in philosophy that it is demonstrated and, therefore, here assumed to be proven that such an idea is the true, eternal, unconditionally powerful principle, that it is revealed in the world, and that nothing else is revealed in the world except for it, its glory, and its greatness.” — “The world of rationality and self-conscious will is not left to chance, but must be revealed in the light of the self-knowing idea.” This is “the result that is known to me because I already know the whole.”

All these quotes are taken from the introduction to “The Philosophy of History.” Spirit and the process of its development are the substantial objects of the philosophy of history. The nature of spirit can be understood by contrasting it with its opposite, namely matter. The essence of matter is weight; the essence of spirit is freedom. The goal of matter lies outside itself, whereas spirit has its center within itself. “Spirit is being-for-itself.” If this is unclear, the following definition may provide clarity: “But what is spirit? It is one unchanging, homogeneous infinity, pure identity, which in the second phase separates itself from itself and makes this second aspect its opposite, namely as existence for itself and in itself, opposed to the universal.”

In the historical development of spirit, there have been three main phases: the Eastern, the Greco-Roman, and the Germanic. “The history of the world is the teaching of an uncontrolled natural will, obedient to the universal principle, and granting subjective freedom. The East knew and still knows that only one is free; the Greek and Roman world knew that some are free; the Germanic world knows that all are free.” One might presume that democracy would be a suitable form of governance where all are free, but this is not the case. Democracy and aristocracy equally belong to a stage of spirit’s development where some are free; despotism belongs to the stage where one is free, while monarchy belongs to the stage where all are free. This is tied to a very peculiar sense in which Hegel employs the word “freedom.” For him (and in this, we may agree with him), there is no freedom without law. However, he seeks to interpret this the other way around and to convince that wherever there is law, there is also freedom. Thus, “freedom” for him signifies nothing more and nothing less than the right to submit to the law.

As one might expect, he attributes to the Germans the greatest role in the earthly development of spirit: “The German spirit is the spirit of the new world, whose purpose lies in the realization of absolute truth as the infinite self-determination of freedom, the content of which is its own absolute form.” This freedom is of an exceedingly refined type. It does not imply that one can prevent concentration camps. It does not presuppose democracy, free press, or any of the ordinary liberal slogans that Hegel dismisses with contempt. When spirit gives itself laws, it does so freely. To our earthly view, it may seem that the spirit that gives laws is embodied in the monarch, while the spirit that receives laws is embodied in the subjects. But from the standpoint of the absolute, the distinction between monarch and subjects, like all other distinctions, is illusory; and when the monarch imprisons a liberally-minded subject, it is nothing other than the free self-determination of spirit. Hegel praises Rousseau for distinguishing between the general will and the will of all. It is asserted that the monarch embodies the general will, while the parliamentary majority represents merely the will of all. A most convenient doctrine.

Hegel divides German history into three periods: the first—before Charlemagne, the second—from Charlemagne to the Reformation, and the third—from the Reformation onward. These three periods are differentiated correspondingly as the kingdom of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I find it somewhat strange that the kingdom of the Holy Spirit should begin with bloody and abominable atrocities during the suppression of the Peasants' War, but Hegel, of course, does not mention such a mundane coincidence. Instead, he delves, as one might expect, into praises of Machiavelli.

Hegel’s interpretation of history since the fall of the Roman Empire is both a consequence and a cause of the study of world history in German schools. In Italy and France, although there was admiration for the Germans by a few, such as Tacitus and Machiavelli, they were regarded as the culprits of the “barbaric” invasions and as enemies of the church, who initially acted under the leadership of great emperors and later under the leaders of the Reformation. Until the 19th century, the Romance nations viewed the Germans as a culturally backward people. Protestants in Germany, naturally, held a different perspective. They believed that late Rome had declined and regarded the German conquest of Western Europe as a significant step toward the Renaissance. As for the conflict between empire and papacy in the Middle Ages, Protestants shared the Ghibelline viewpoint. To this day, German school textbooks instill boundless admiration for Charlemagne and Barbarossa. The weakness and fragmentation of Germany in the post-Reformation period are lamented, while the gradual rise of Prussia is welcomed as the strengthening of Germany under Protestant leadership, in contrast to the Catholic and somewhat weakened leadership of Austria. In engaging with the philosophy of history, Hegel had in mind figures such as Theoderic, Barbarossa, Luther, and Charlemagne. He was obliged to interpret history in light of their exploits and in the context of Germany’s recent humiliation by Napoleon.

Germany was so glorified by Hegel that one might expect it to be the ultimate embodiment of the absolute idea, beyond which no further development would be possible. But this was not Hegel’s view. On the contrary, he states that America is the country of the future, in which “subsequently, perhaps in the struggle between North and South America (he characteristically adds) the world-historical significance will become evident.” He seems inclined to the notion that all significant matters take the form of war. If one were to suggest to him that America’s contribution to world history might lie in the establishment of a society without extreme poverty, he would likely not be interested. On the contrary, he precisely states that there is still no true state in America, for a true state requires the division of classes into rich and poor.

Nations, for Hegel, play the same role as classes do for Marx. The principle of historical development, he asserts, is the national spirit. In every century, there exists one specific nation that bears the obligation to guide the world through the dialectical stage it has reached. In our age, this nation is, of course, Germany. Yet, in addition to nations, we must also consider historically significant individuals—those in whom the goals of dialectical transitions, which must occur in their time, are embodied. These individuals are heroes and are justifiably allowed to transgress ordinary moral rules. Examples are cited of Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon. I doubt whether, according to Hegel, a person can be a "hero" without being a militant conqueror.

Hegel's emphasis on the role of nations, along with his specific notion of "freedom," explains his glorification of the state—a very important aspect of his political philosophy to which we must now turn our attention. He elaborates on his philosophy of the state in both the "Philosophy of History" and the "Philosophy of Right." This philosophy is generally compatible with his overarching metaphysics but is not necessarily determined by it. In certain respects, however, particularly when examining the relationships between states, his admiration for the national state goes so far that it becomes incompatible with his general preference for the whole over the parts.

Regarding modern times, the glorification of the state begins with the Reformation. In the Roman Empire, the emperor was deified, thereby granting the state a sacred character. However, medieval philosophers, with few exceptions, were ecclesiastics and thus placed the church above the state. Luther, finding support among Protestant princes, began to fight for the supremacy of the state over the church. The Lutheran Church, as a whole, was Erastian. Hobbes, politically a Protestant, developed the doctrine of the state's priority, and Spinoza generally concurred with him. Rousseau, as we have seen, believed that the state should not tolerate other political organizations. Hegel was a fervent Lutheran Protestant. The Prussian state was an Erastian absolute monarchy. This is enough to suggest that the state would be highly valued by Hegel, but even with this assumption, it is astonishing how far he goes.

In the "Philosophy of History," we are told that "the State is the actual, truly moral life," and that all the spiritual reality that a human being possesses is only due to the state. "For its spiritual reality consists in that, as a knowing being, its object is its essence, the rational principle, that it has for itself objective, immediate, actual being… For the true is the unity of universal and subjective will, and the universal exists in the state, in laws, in common and rational determinations. The state is the divine idea as it exists on earth." Furthermore, "the state is rational, objectively self-aware, and self-sufficient freedom… The state is the spiritual idea manifesting itself in the form of human will and its freedom."

In the "Philosophy of Right," the same teaching is developed somewhat more fully in the section on the state: "The state is the reality of the moral idea—the moral spirit as evident, self-evident, substantial will, which thinks and knows itself and performs what it knows as it knows it." The state is the rational in itself and for itself. If the state exists solely for the interests of individuals (as liberals believe), then an individual may or may not be a member of the state. However, it has a completely different relation to the individual; as the objective spirit, the individual has objectivity, truth, and morality only to the extent that he is a member of the state, whose true content and aim is unity as such. It is admitted that there may be bad states, but they merely exist and do not have true reality, whereas the rational state is infinite in itself.

Hegel demands for the state the same position that St. Augustine and his Catholic predecessors demanded for the church. However, there are two respects in which the Catholic demands are more reasonable than Hegel's. First, the church was not an arbitrary geographical association, but a body united by a common creed, whose members believed in its utmost significance. This was, in essence, the embodiment of what Hegel called the idea. Second, there is only one Catholic Church, while there are many states. When each state is made such an absolute in relation to its subjects as Hegel suggests, it is difficult to find any philosophical principle to regulate relations between different states. Indeed, at this point, Hegel abandons philosophical narration, retreating from both the standpoint of the natural state and from Hobbes' war of all against all.

The habit of speaking of the state as if there were only one leads to confusion, as there is no world state. Since duty for Hegel is the relationship of the individual to his state, there is no other principle with which to imbue relations between states with a moral character. This Hegel acknowledges. In external relations, he says, the state is an individual, and each state is independent of the others. "Since in this independence the being-for-itself of the real spirit has its existence, this is the first freedom and the highest honor of the people." He continues to vigorously oppose any type of League of Nations that might restrict the independence of individual states. The citizen's duty is entirely confined (as far as it concerns the external relations of his state) to maintaining the real individuality, independence, and sovereignty of his own state. Hence, it follows that war is not wholly an evil or something we should strive to eliminate. The aim of the state is not merely to preserve the lives and property of its citizens, and this fact provides a moral justification for war, which should not be regarded as an absolute evil, a mere contingency, or as having its cause in something that should not exist.

By this, Hegel means not only that in certain situations a nation has no right to avoid war. He implies something much greater. He is opposed to the creation of institutions, such as a world government, that would prevent the emergence of such situations, for to him, the occurrence of wars from time to time is a good thing. War, he states, is a condition under which we take seriously the vanity of transient goods and things (this view must be contrasted with the opposing theory that all wars have economic causes). War has a positive moral significance: "War is of the utmost importance because it allows the moral state of peoples to remain indifferent to the permanence of finite determinations." Peace is stagnation. The Holy Alliance and Kant’s League of Peace are mistaken because the fellowship of states requires an enemy. Conflicts between states can be resolved only through war. Since states relate to one another as being in a natural state, their relationships are not legal or moral. Their rights have their reality in their private wills, and the interest of each state is its own highest law. There is no contrast between morality and politics, for states are not subject to ordinary moral laws.

Hegel's doctrine on the state is such that, if accepted, it justifies any internal tyranny and any external aggression that one can conceive. The strength of his biases is evident in the fact that his theory is largely incompatible with his own metaphysics, and this inconsistency tends to justify cruelty and international pillage. One can forgive a person if logic compels them to draw conclusions they regret; however, one cannot do so when they abandon logic in order to be free in the defense of their transgressions. Hegel's logic leads him to the belief that there is greater reality or superiority (for Hegel, these are synonymous) in the whole than in its parts, and that the reality and superiority of the whole increase as it becomes more organized. This justifies for him a preference for the state over the anarchic assemblage of individuals, but it must also lead him to prefer a world state to the anarchic gathering of states. Within the state, according to his philosophy, Hegel ought to respect the individual more than he does, since the whole he considers is not akin to the single unity of Parmenides or even the god of Spinoza: within this whole, the individual does not disappear but rather gains fuller reality through a harmonious relation to the organism. A state that ignores the individual is not a diminished model of Hegel's absolute.

In Hegel's metaphysics, there is no basis for the exclusive elevation of the state above other social organizations. In his preference for the state over the church, I see nothing but a Protestant bias. Furthermore, if, as Hegel is convinced, society must be as organic as possible in order to be good, then, aside from the state and the church, many other social institutions are necessary. From Hegel's principle, it must follow that every interest not in harmony with society and capable of fostering cooperation should have its corresponding organization, and that each such organization should possess some degree of limited independence. One might counter that supreme authority must be concentrated somewhere and cannot be located anywhere else but in the state. Yet, even if this is so, it is desirable for this supreme authority not to be unassailable when it attempts to overstep normal boundaries.

This brings us to a question that is fundamental for assessing Hegel's philosophy as a whole: Is the whole more real and more valuable than its parts? Hegel answers this question affirmatively. The question of reality is metaphysical; the question of value is ethical. Generally, they are treated as if they are scarcely distinguishable, but for me, it is crucial to examine them separately. Let us begin with the metaphysical question.

Hegel's and many other philosophers' perspective holds that the character of any part of the universe is so profoundly influenced by its connections to other parts and the whole that no true statement regarding any part can be made without determining its place in the whole. Since its place in the whole depends on all the other parts, a true statement regarding its position in the whole will simultaneously define the place of any other part in the whole. Thus, there exists only one true statement: there is no truth except the truth of the whole. Similarly, there is nothing real apart from the whole, for any part, when isolated, alters its character and, therefore, does not fully reveal what it truly represents. This is the metaphysical teaching. On the other hand, when a part is considered in relation to the whole, as it ought to be, it must be discovered that it is not autonomous and cannot exist except as a part of the whole, which is the only authentic reality.

The ethical teaching that asserts value resides more in the whole than in its parts must be true if the metaphysical teaching is true, but it will not necessarily be false if the metaphysical teaching is false. It may also be true with respect to some wholes and false with respect to others.

This is evidently correct, in a certain sense, regarding a living body. The eye is worthless when separated from the body; it constitutes a collection of disjecta membra, even when considered as a whole; it has no value belonging to the body from which it is taken. Hegel envisions the ethical relationship of the citizen to the state as analogous to that of the eye to the whole: in its proper place, the citizen is a part of a valuable whole, but when isolated, he is useless, just as the isolated eye is. This analogy, however, is questionable: from the ethical importance of certain wholes, the ethical importance of all wholes does not necessarily follow.

The preceding exposition of the ethical problem has a deficiency in one respect, namely, that it does not account for the distinction between ends and means. The eye in the living body is useful, that is, it possesses value as a means. But it has no greater intrinsic value than when it is separated from the body. A thing has intrinsic value when it is highly regarded for its own sake and not as a means to something else. We value the eye as a means of vision. Vision can be a means or an end. It is a means when it shows us food or enemies, and an end when it reveals something we find beautiful. The state is clearly valuable as a means: it protects us from thieves and murderers, it builds roads, schools, and so on. It may, of course, also be a poor means, such as when it leads an unjust war. The real question we must ask in connection with Hegel is not whether the state is good as a means but whether it is good per se as an end; do citizens exist for the state, or does the state exist for the citizens? Hegel asserts the former. Liberal philosophy, which derives from Locke, asserts the latter. It is clear that we ascribe intrinsic value to the state only if we believe it has its own life, being, in a certain sense, a person. In this respect, Hegel's metaphysics becomes linked to the question of value. A person is a complex whole that has a single life. Can a super-person be composed of individuals, just as a body is composed of organs, possessing a single life that is not merely the sum of the lives of its constituent persons? If such a super-person can exist, as Hegel believes, then the state can be such a being and may surpass us in the same manner that the body as a whole surpasses the eye. But if we regard this super-person merely as a metaphysical monstrosity, we will conclude that the intrinsic value of society derives from the value of its members and that the state is a means, not an end. We thus return from the ethical question to the metaphysical one. And the metaphysical question itself, as we shall discover, is in truth a question of logic.

The question at hand is much broader than the question of the truth or falsity of Hegel's philosophy. It is a question that divides the foes and friends of analysis. Let us provide an example. Suppose I say, "John is the father of James." Hegel and those who believe in what Marshal Smuts calls "holism" would argue: "To understand this statement, you must know who John and James are. To know who John is means knowing all his attributes, for without them, he cannot be distinguished from anyone else. But all his attributes involve other people or things. He is characterized by his relations to his parents, wife, children, whether he is a good or bad citizen, and the country to which he belongs. All of this must be understood before you can assert that you know to whom the word 'John' refers. Step by step, in our attempt to articulate what you mean by the word 'John,' you will come to consider the entire universe, and your original statement will turn out to be some communication about the universe rather than about two separate individuals, James and John."

All this is very well, yet it remains vulnerable to the initial objection. If the preceding argument were valid, how could the very act of knowing ever commence? I am acquainted with a number of statements of the form “A is the father of B,” but I do not possess knowledge of the universe as a whole. If all knowledge were to be knowledge of the universe in its entirety, then knowledge itself would cease to exist. This suffices to prompt us to suspect that an error lies somewhere else.

Indeed, to employ the term “John” correctly and sensibly, I need not know everything concerning John; it suffices merely to recognize him. Undoubtedly, he is related, in close or distant terms, to everything within the universe, yet one can speak of him accurately without considering these relations, save for what is immediately pertinent to the subject at hand.

He may be the father of Gemma, just as he is of James, but it is not necessary for me to be aware of this to know that he is James’s father. If Hegel were correct, we could not fully ascertain what is meant by the expression “John is the father of James” without mentioning Gemma. We would need to state: “John, the father of Gemma, is the father of James.” Yet even this would not be entirely accurate; we would have to continue, tracing back to his parents and grandparents. However, this leads us to absurdity. Hegel's position could be articulated as follows: “The word ’John’ signifies everything that is true about John.” But as a definition, this assumption contains a circularity, as the word “John” appears in the defining phrase. Indeed, if Hegel were right, no word could possess any meaning, for we would have to know the meanings of all other words already in order to determine the properties of that which the word signifies, which, according to this theory, constitutes what the word means.

Let us consider the matter abstractly: we must differentiate between properties of various types. A thing may possess a property that does not entail the existence of any other thing; this type is called a quality. Alternatively, it may possess a property that entails the existence of another thing; such a property is “being married.” Or it may have one that necessitates the existence of two other things, for example, “being a son-in-law.” If a certain thing possesses a specific set of qualities, it can be defined as “a thing having such and such qualities.” From the mere fact of possessing these qualities, based solely on pure logic, nothing can be inferred about its relative properties. Hegel believed that if one knows enough about a thing to distinguish it from all others, then all its properties could be logically deduced. This was an error, and from this error arises the impressive edifice of his system. This illustrates an important truth: the worse your logic, the more intriguing the consequences to which it may lead.