Philosophy of the Modern Era

Karl Marx

Karl Marx is typically regarded as the individual who endowed socialism with a scientific character, achieving more than anyone else in forging a powerful movement that has both attracted and repelled, yet has dominated the recent history of Europe. The scope of this work does not permit an exploration of his economic or political views, save for the most general aspects. I intend to focus solely on the philosophical dimension of his work and its influence on other philosophers. In this respect, he is difficult to classify. In one regard, he resembles Godkin, as an offspring of philosophical radicals, perpetuating their rationalism and disdain for romanticism. In another respect, he can be viewed as a philosopher who revived materialism, offering a new interpretation and linking it anew to human history. Additionally, he stands as the last of the great system builders, a successor to Hegel, who, like him, believed in a rational formula summarizing the evolution of humanity. To emphasize any one of these aspects at the expense of others provides a false and distorted perspective on his philosophy.

The events of his life partly elucidate the complex nature of his philosophy. He was born in Trier, like Saint Ambrose, in 1818. Trier was heavily influenced by French culture during the revolutionary years and the Napoleonic era, exhibiting greater cosmopolitanism than much of the rest of Germany. His ancestors were rabbis, yet his parents converted to Christianity during his childhood. He married an aristocrat of non-Jewish descent, with whom he spent his entire life. At university, he was influenced by the then-dominant Hegelianism, later succumbing to the materialist revolt of Feuerbach against Hegel. He engaged in journalism, but his “Rhenish Gazette” was shut down by the authorities for its radicalism. Consequently, in 1843, he moved to France to study socialism. Here he met Engels, who managed a factory in Manchester. Through him, Marx became acquainted with the conditions of workers in England and the English school of economics. Even before 1848, he thus accumulated an unusually international body of knowledge. Regarding Western Europe, he expressed no national preferences. This cannot be said for Eastern Europe, as he always held a contempt for the Slavs.

He participated in both the French and German revolutions of 1848; however, the backlash compelled him to seek refuge in England. He spent the remainder of his life, with brief interruptions, in London, beset by poverty, illness, and the deaths of children, yet he tirelessly composed and amassed knowledge. His work was always motivated by the hope for a social revolution, if not within his lifetime, then not too far off in the future.

Like Bentham and John Stuart Mill, Marx sought no connection with romanticism and consistently aimed to uphold a scientific viewpoint. His economic ideas were the result of classical English economics, wherein only the driving force was altered. Classical economists, consciously or unconsciously, prioritized the prosperity of the capitalist over the landowner and the hired worker. In contrast, Marx aligned himself with the interests of the hired worker. In his youth, as evidenced by the "Communist Manifesto" of 1848, he possessed a fervor and passion essential for a new revolutionary movement, which later transformed into liberalism in the age of Milton. Yet, he always aspired to appeal to facts and never relied on any extraneous intuition.

He referred to himself as a materialist, but not in the spirit of the 18th century. Under Hegel's influence, he designated his materialism as "dialectical," a conception significantly distinct from traditional materialism and much closer to what is now called instrumentalism. Old materialism, he argued, erroneously viewed sensation as passive, thereby attributing activity primarily to the object. From Marx's perspective, sensations or perceptions constitute an interaction between the subject and the object; a pure object, existing outside the activity of the perceiver, is raw material transformed in the process of knowing. Knowledge, in the old sense of passive contemplation, is an unreal abstraction. In reality, a process of interaction with things takes place. “The question of whether human thought possesses objective truth is not a theoretical question, but a practical one,” he wrote. “In practice, a person must prove the truth, that is, the reality and power of their earthly thought. The dispute over the reality or unreality of thought, isolating it from practice, is a purely scholastic question... Philosophers have only explained the world in various ways; the point is to change it.”

I believe we can interpret Marx in the sense that the process, which philosophers pursue as the quest for knowledge, is not, as was previously thought, a process wherein the object remains constant while the knower adapts. Conversely, the subject and the object, the knower and the known, exist in a continuous process of mutual adaptation. He labels this process “dialectical” because it is never fully completed.

Central to this theory is the denial of the reality of "sensation" as understood by British empiricists. What occurs, in their view, during "sensation," would be better described as "the act of noticing" things, which entails activity. In fact, Marx would argue that we perceive things only in the process of acting towards them, and any theory that disregards action is an incorrect abstraction.

To my knowledge, Marx was the first philosopher to critique the concept of truth from such an activist perspective. However, he did not delve deeply into his criticism, and thus I shall not linger on this issue here, deferring it to the next chapter.

Marx's philosophy of history is a blend of Hegelianism and English economic concepts. Like Hegel, he asserts that the world develops according to a dialectical formula, yet he fundamentally disagrees with Hegel regarding the driving force of this development. Hegel believed in a mystical essence called "Spirit" that guides human history along a path of development, the stages of which are categories from Hegel's "Logic." Why Spirit must traverse all these stages remains unclear. One is tempted to assume that Spirit endeavors to comprehend Hegel and, at each stage, hastily reproduces in reality what it has read. Aside from the inevitability of development, Marx's dialectic lacks any of such qualities. According to Marx, the driving force is not Spirit but matter. Yet, matter, in a very peculiar sense of the term, is entirely unlike the matter of the atomists, devoid of human involvement. This means that, for Marx, the driving force is, in fact, the relationship between humans and matter, of which the most crucial part is the mode of production. Thus, Marx's materialism effectively becomes an economic doctrine.

Politics, religion, philosophy, and the art of any era in human history are, according to Marx, products of the mode of production characteristic of the time, and to a lesser extent, of distribution. I believe he should have applied this thesis only to the broad outlines of culture, not to its nuances. This doctrine is termed the “materialist conception of history.” This is a very significant thesis, particularly for the historian of philosophy. I personally do not accept this thesis as Marx presents it, but I believe it contains essential elements of truth. I am acutely aware of its influence on my own views regarding the development of philosophy, which are laid out in this work. Let us begin by examining the history of philosophy through the lens of Marx's doctrine.

Subjectively, every philosopher seems to be engaged in the pursuit of something that can be termed "truth." Philosophers may differ in their definitions of "truth," yet it remains, in any case, something objective, something that everyone must accept in some sense. No person should embark on the study of philosophy if they believe that all philosophy is merely an expression of irrational preferences. Nevertheless, every philosopher would agree that many philosophers are prone to certain preferences and possess irrational reasons, often unrecognized, for many of their views. Like others, Marx believes in the truth of his doctrines; he does not regard them as mere expressions of the feelings characteristic of a rebellious German Jew from a bourgeois background in the nineteenth century. What can be said about this conflict between subjective and objective perspectives on philosophy?

In the broadest sense, we may assert that Greek philosophy, up until Aristotle, expressed the mindset inherent to the city-state, that Stoicism aligns more closely with cosmopolitan despotism, that scholastic philosophy serves as an intellectual manifestation of the Church as an institution, that philosophy since Descartes, or at least since Locke, tends to embody the prejudices of the merchant class, and that both Marxism and fascism represent philosophies reflecting the spirit of the modern industrial state. This, I believe, is both significant and true. However, I contend that Marx is mistaken in two respects. First, the social conditions that require consideration are as much political as they are economic. They pertain to power, of which wealth is merely one facet. Second, the search for social causes often becomes moot as the problem becomes more detailed and technical. The first of these objections is elaborated in my book Power, so I shall not dwell on it here. The second is more closely tied to the history of philosophy, and I will provide several examples from this field.

Let us begin with the problem of universals. This issue was first discussed by Plato, then Aristotle, the scholastics, British empiricists, and modern logicians. It would be absurd to deny that prejudices have influenced the philosophers’ viewpoints on this matter. Plato was influenced here by Parmenides and Orphism; he sought an eternal realm and was reluctant to believe in the ultimate reality of the temporal flow. Aristotle, on the other hand, was more empirically inclined and held no aversion to the everyday world. Modern uncompromising empiricists possess a prejudice contrary to Plato’s: they find the thought of a supersensory world distasteful and will go to great lengths to avoid belief in it. Yet these prejudices remain vibrant in their opposition and bear only a distant relation to social systems. It is said that a love for the eternal characterizes the idle class living off the labor of others. I doubt that this is true. Epictetus and Spinoza were not idle men. On the contrary, one might argue that the notion of the heavens as a place of idleness belongs to weary workers desiring nothing but rest. Such reasoning can be perpetually advanced, yet it leads nowhere.

On the other hand, when we turn to the details of the dispute over universals, we discover that each side can invent arguments that the other side acknowledges as significant. Some details of Aristotle’s criticism of Plato’s arguments have been accepted by nearly all. Just recently, a new technique has been developed, and while a definitive resolution to the problem has not been reached, many ancillary issues have been resolved. It is not unreasonable to hope that sooner or later, logicians will achieve a certain consensus on this matter.

As a second example, let us consider the ontological argument. As we have seen, it was devised by Anselm, rejected by Thomas Aquinas, accepted by Descartes, refuted by Kant, and restored by Hegel. I believe it can be asserted with certainty that modern logic, through the analysis of the concept of "existence," has proven the argument to be flawed. This is not a matter of temperament or social system; it is purely a technical argument. The refutation of the argument provides no grounds for the assumption that its conclusion—that is, the existence of God—must be false. If that were the case, we could not presume that Aquinas was able to refute the argument.

Or let us take the question of materialism. This word has many meanings, and we have seen that Marx radically altered its significance. The heated debates over the truth or falsity of the doctrine have largely been explained by a lack of definition. When the term "materialism" is defined one way, the falsehood of materialism emerges; under different definitions, it appears true, although there may not be sufficient grounds for that conclusion. Finally, according to yet another group of definitions, there are some reasons in its favor, though these reasons are not conclusive. All of this, once again, hinges on technical conclusions and has nothing to do with social systems.

The essence of the matter is, in fact, quite simple. What is commonly referred to as "philosophy" consists of two entirely distinct elements. On one side, there are questions of a scientific or logical nature, and their interpretation is subject to methods that enjoy general agreement. On the other side, there are questions that evoke passionate interest among many people, and there are no solid grounds for resolving them one way or another. Among such questions are practical matters, from which it is impossible to remain aloof. When war arises, I must either defend my own country or enter into a painful conflict with friends and authorities. In many cases, there has been no middle ground between supporting and opposing the official religion. For one reason or another, we find it impossible to maintain a skeptical detachment regarding many issues that pure reason remains silent about. "Philosophy," in the most ordinary sense of the term, is an organic whole made up of such non-rationally considered resolutions. It is in relation to "philosophy" in this sense that Marx's positions are largely accurate. But even in this sense, philosophy is determined by other social causes to the same extent as it is by economic ones. War, in particular, is historically conditioned, and victory is not always with the participant who possesses greater economic resources.

Marx tailored his philosophy of history to the model of Hegelian dialectics, yet for him, only one of the triad is significant: feudalism, represented by the landlord; capitalism, represented by the industrialist; and socialism, represented by the wage worker. Hegel viewed nations as bearers of dialectical movement; Marx replaced them with classes. He consistently dismissed any ethical or humanistic reasons for favoring socialism or aligning with the wage worker. He maintained that the issue is not that this side is ethically superior, but rather that it is part of a dialectical deterministic movement. He could argue that he does not defend socialism but predicts its emergence. This, however, is not entirely accurate. He undoubtedly believed that each dialectical movement must, in some impersonal sense, be progressive, and he firmly held that once established, socialism would contribute more to the welfare of humanity than either capitalism or feudalism ever could. This conviction, although it dominated his life, remained in the background of his writings. At times, however, he cast aside his calm predictions in favor of a passionate call to uprising, and this emotional disposition clearly underlies all his scientific forecasts.

As a pure philosopher, Marx has a number of serious shortcomings. He is excessively practical and too fixated on the problems of his time. His perspective is limited to this planet and, upon it, to Man. Since Copernicus, it has become evident that Man does not possess the cosmic significance he once attributed to himself. No person who cannot grasp this fact has the right to label their philosophy as scientific.

In his attachment to earthly matters, Marx exhibits a readiness to believe in progress as a universal law. This predisposition is characteristic of the 19th century and is shared by Marx to the same extent as his contemporaries. It is precisely this faith in the inevitability of progress that allowed Marx to think he could dispense with ethical considerations. If socialism were to arrive, it would signify an improvement. He would readily concede that this improvement might not benefit the landowners and capitalists; rather, it would merely indicate their disharmony with the dialectical movement of time. Marx proclaimed himself an atheist but harbored a cosmic optimism that could only be justified theistically.

Generally, all elements of Marx's philosophy that he borrowed from Hegel lack scientific grounding in the sense that there is no reason to deem them true. It is likely that the philosophical garb in which Marx clothed his socialism bears little relation to the foundations of his views. Much of what he articulated can be reconstructed without any reference to dialectics. He was profoundly influenced by the repulsive brutality of the industrial system as it existed in England a century prior, which he learned about through Engels and reports from royal commissions. He perceived that this system evolved from free competition to monopoly, and that injustices would give rise to a protest movement among the proletariat. He argued that in a developed industrial society, the only alternative to the private property of capitalists is the ownership of land and capital by the State. None of these assertions pertain to philosophy; hence, I do not evaluate their truth or falsehood. The crux of the matter is that if they are true, they are sufficient to establish everything practically significant for his system. Therefore, the Hegelian frameworks can be set aside for the sake of clarity.

The history of Marx's reputation is quite intriguing. In his homeland, his doctrines inspired the program of the Social Democratic Party, which steadily grew until it garnered one-third of all votes in the general elections of 1912. Immediately after the conclusion of World War I, the Social Democratic Party found itself in power, and Ebert, the first president of the Weimar Republic, was a member. However, by that time, the party had severed ties with Marxist orthodoxy. Meanwhile, in Russia, fanatical followers of Marx ascended to power. In the West, no major labor movement was wholly Marxist; the British Labour Party occasionally leaned in that direction, but it nonetheless adhered to a more empirical type of socialism. Nevertheless, a vast number of intellectuals were influenced by Marx, both in England and America. In Germany, any propagation of his views was suppressed by force, but one might expect a revival following the overthrow of Nazism.

Contemporary Europe and America have politically and ideologically divided into three camps. The first comprises liberals who still, as far as possible, adhere to Locke and Bentham while adapting to the needs of industrial organization to varying degrees. The second consists of Marxists, who control the government in Russia and will likely increase their influence in other countries. Philosophically, these two worldviews are not as far apart as they might seem, as both are rationalistic and aspire to be scientific and empirical. However, from the standpoint of practical politics, the difference between them is substantial. It manifests in the already cited letter from James Mill: “their notions of property are grotesque…”

Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that in some aspects, Marx's rationalism is limited. While he claims that his interpretation of developmental trends is correct and will be confirmed by events, he believes that his argument can, with few exceptions, appeal only to those whose class interests align with it. He places little hope in persuasion, relying instead on class struggle. Thus, in practice, he is committed to the politics of seizing power, as well as to the doctrine of the ruling class, albeit not a ruling race. It is indeed plausible to expect that as a result of social revolution, the division into classes will vanish, leading to complete political and social harmony. However, this is a distant ideal, akin to the Second Coming, while the current reality encompasses war, dictatorship, and the imposition of ideological orthodoxy.

The third group of contemporary views, represented by Nazis and fascists, is philosophically distinct from the first two to a far greater degree than they differ from one another. It is anti-rationalist and anti-scientific. Its philosophical precursors were Rousseau, Fichte, and Nietzsche. This group emphasizes will, particularly the will to power; this will, according to its adherents, is rooted in individual races and individuals, who consequently possess the right to govern others.

Prior to Rousseau, the world possessed a certain unity. This unity temporarily vanished, but probably not for long. It may be revived through the affirmation of rationalism in the minds of people, but not otherwise, since claims to dominance can lead only to hostility.