Nitze Afierwma

APORIA
Dartmouth Undergraduate Journal of Philosophy
Fall 2006 / Winter 2007
Nietzsche is dead?
A P O R I A
Dartmouth Undergraduate Journal of Philosophy
Fall 2006/Winter 2007: Volume XXIV, Issue 1

Editor-In-Chief
Kevin Decker
Publisher/Executive Editor
Kelley Meck
Managing Editor
AnnMary Mathew
Layout Editor
Norton Zhang
Editorial Board
Lizzy Asher
Nathan Clarke
Tatyana Liskovich
David Ong
Katie McIntyre
Jared Westheim
Contributing Authors
Kevin Decker
Lizzy Asher
Andrew K. Fletcher
Ann Mary Mathew
Yan Shurin
Jessica Spradling
Jenny Strakovsky
Faculty Advisor
Julia Driver
The publication of this journal is made possible by the financial support of the Philosophy Department
and Dartmouth Council on Student Organizations.
Copyright 2007 by the Trustees of Dartmouth College.
Volume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
Table of Contents
A Note From The Editors
Kevin Decker
.......................................
Book Review: Nietzsches French Legacy - A Genealogy of

Poststructuralism
Kevin Decker
.........................................
Reviews the book Nietzsches French Legacy: A Genealogy of Poststructuralism written by

Alan Schrift. In this work, Schrift examines the use of Nietzsche in the thought of Jacques
Derrida, Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze, and Hlne Cixous. In doing so, he also provides an
interesting way to consider French poststructuralism. His interpretation offers an alternative to
the critical, polemic interpretation given by the French Anti-Nietzscheans Ferry, Renault, and
Descombes. Schrift also suggests new uses for Nietzsches thought in present global contexts.
Although his reading of Nietzsche, Derrida, Foucault, Deleuze, and Cixous is clearly generous
and sympathetic, Schrifts clearly-written book is valuable for both the newcomer and the expert.
Book Review: Nietzsche, Hiedegger, and Daoist Thought

Ann Mary Mathew .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
To Froese one of the most egregiously wrong tendencies in Western Philosophy has been
to reject the world of change for the true world of form. It is a tendency that is almost nonexistent in Eastern philosophy. In her book, Froese draws compelling connections between
Nietzsches Eternal Return, Heideggers Being, and the Daoist Dao-which Froese sees as
fluid alternatives to more the more static metaphysics of mainstream Western Philosophy
Nietzsches Great Politics: Man and the State of Nature

Yan Shurin
........................................
11
Scholars of Nietzsche often disagree over what kind of political system he supported. The strong
position is that Nietzsche proposed and advocated for a specific kind of structure. The weaker position
is that Nietzsche expressed his views through the criticism of existing political systems and so from a
process of elimination we can determine which he would have actually supported. This paper examines
Nietzsches views on democracies, oligarchies, and dictatorships and demonstrates why they fail to
meet his standards of an ideal society. In the end, the author proposes that Nietzsches ideal political
state is the state of nature and shows how he overcomes Hobbes criticism of such an existence.
Dartmouth Philosophy Journal
Table of Contents
The Human Condition and the 21st Century
Jessica Spradling .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Nearly 50 years after Hannah Arendt wrote The Human Condition, this study considers
Arendts major work in light of the substantial changes the human condition has undergone
in the half-century since 1957. In particular, the study focuses on many of the most-talked
about developments in the past half-century such as mass communication, brain sciences,
globalization, and medical innovation in so far as they relate to Arendts vita activa and the
possibilities of authenticity, privacy, and action at the beginning of the 21st century. The
writings of later social theorists such as Seyla Benhabib, Hanna Fenichel Pitkin, and Dana
Villa will provide support for this reconsideration of Arendts work in the contemporary world.
Descartes: On the Existence of God

Jenny Strakovsky .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
In his Meditations, Descartes attempts to establish a stable and lasting foundation for human
knowledge by eliminating all preconceived thoughts and using logic to discover basic indubitable
truths. In the Third Meditation, he argues that, because God himself is an idea, his origin must
come from somewhere within ourselves (given that the existence of an outside world has not
yet been determined). Because the concept of God contains infinity, while people are distinctly
finite creatures, He must originate from outside us. However, in his proof, Descartes ignores the
human quality of creative and inventive thinking, which allows us to extrapolate from simple
ideas and fabricate extravagant thoughts, and in addition, allows us to invent the idea of God.
An appeal for Induction

Lizzy Asher
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
This paper discusses the problems Hume foresaw with inductive reasoning as it relates to the
work of Nelson Goodman. Hume holds inductive knowledge to standards of certainty that not
even deductive knowledge can attain. Goodman improves on Humes hypothesis by proposing
that the problem of induction stems from not having an adequate system of rules with which
we can judge an inductive arguments validity. Although we cannot ever be certain about
inductive conclusions, experimentation and abstraction can help us refine our ideal sample set.
Intentionally Weak: The Case for Weakness of Will

Andrew K. Fletcher .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Is it possible to act against ones better judgment? In philosophy, this concept is known as akrasia and
there is debate among philosophers about whether or not it exists. This paper explains the possibility
of human akrasia and the case for the weakness of will, the condition that leads an individual
to act in a manner contrary to his best interests. Utilizing examples of addiction and conflicting
motivations, this essay aims to carefully define the philosophical lexis involved, and concludes
that weakness of will, when understood as improper intent revision, is both plausible and common.
A Note From the Editors:
Friedrich Nietzsche
is a name that often provokes strong reactions in both the general
and philosophical communities. Different interpretations of his works abound. This plurality of
interpretations is perhaps fitting considering his perspectivism. Regardless of ones attitude toward
Nietzsche, however, it is hard to deny his profound and pervasive influence on philosophy over
the course of the past century.

Nietzsches somewhat obscure and tragic life as a sickly recluse seems surprising with
regard to the number of (in)famous appropriations of his philosophy in the twentieth-century.
Acquaintance with these appropriations is far more common than the intricate understanding
Nietzsches thought demands. While this may seem to be a regrettable state of affairs, familiarity
with the positive use of a philosophers concepts proves that these concepts deserve study. In
light of this observation, this issue features reviews of two quite different uses of Nietzsches
philosophy.
Two of our editors offer our readers reviews of books that explore Nietzsches relation
to different areas of philosophy. Ann Mary Mathew reviews Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Daoist
Thought: Crossing Paths In-between by Katrin Froese. This book offers an interesting perspective
on Nietzsche in relation to Eastern Philosophy as well as Heidegger. Kevin Decker reviews
Nietzsches French Legacy: A Genealogy of Poststructuralism by Alan Schrift. Schrift offers a
clear exploration of the untimeliness of Nietzsches philosophy and its influence on twentiethcentury French thought.

Our readers will also find four articles in this issue. Jessica Spradling offers a detailed
exposition of Arendts The Human Condition, which is arguably one of the most important works
in recent social and political philosophy. Jenny Strakovsky offers an argument against one of
Descartes proofs for the existence of God in Meditations. Lizzy Asher criticizes the infamous
problem of induction posed by Hume in his Enquiry. In the final article, Drew Fletcher offers an
interesting examination of the possibility of weakness of the will.

As always, we hope that our readers will find some philosophical inspiration and unfamiliar
thoughts contained within these pages.
Nietzsches French Legacy:

A Genealogy of Poststructuralism

A Book Review
riting about Nietzsche is difficult, even

hazardous. No less difficult is writing
about the French thinkers especially
together in one work commonly referred to by
the term poststructualism. Nonetheless, Alan
Schrift attempts both these tasks and combines
them into one in Nietzsches French Legacy: A
Genealogy of Poststructualism. His general aim
is to explore the different ways in which Jacques
Derrida, Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze, and
Hlne Cixous make use of Nietzsche.
The way Schrift divides the title of his work
into two parts is not arbitrary. On the one hand
he wants to show that these French figures belong
to a Nietzschean legacy and also show why they
revived Nietzsche in France starting in the 1960s.
Schrift suggests the poststructuralist appeal to
Nietzsche was one of the primary means of differentiating from the two previous dominant philosophies in France: existentialism and then structuralism. Nietzsche presented a way to address the
individual agency rejected by Lacan, Althusser,
and Lvi-Strauss without the radical subjectivism
of Sartre and Merleau-Ponty. As Schrift says, the
poststructuralists used Nietzsche in part as a historical corrective. Furthermore, despite all their
talk of the end of philosophy, they also used him
to maintain philosophy in response to the structuralist attempt to become more scientific.
On the other hand Schrift also offers a genealogy of poststructuralism. He is quick to point
out that this is not the only genealogy that could
be offered, but one that is nevertheless useful and
rewarding. There is a tremendous variety of interpretations of Nietzsche to be found, even among
these four philosophers who are supposed to
belong to one movement in philosophy. Schrift
Kevin Decker
reminds us, however, that what is important is their

common appeal to Nietzsche. Through the analysis of this appeal he hopes to clarify the complicated thought of these thinkers while also showing
one way in which they can be brought together.
There are many writers who concern themselves with offering interpretations of Nietzsche.
The writers in whom Schrift is interested, however, are those who use Nietzsche, even when it
appears that they are merely interpreting him. He
often concentrates therefore on the methods used
by the French thinkers and what could be considered Nietzschean about these methods. Whether
it is through the use of genealogy, or the will to
power, or a resistance to binary oppositions, each
of these poststructuralists appropriate some part of
Nietzsches thinking. In reflecting on these uses,
Schrift also reexamines Nietzsche through the
lenses offered by his French descendants.
Derrida undergoes Schrifts treatment in the
chapter The Critique of Oppositional Thinking
and the Transvaluation of Values. Schrift first
attends to the way Derrida uses Nietzsche to confront Heidegger. He notes that two of Derridas
three texts devoted to Nietzsche also function as
a critique of Heideggers metaphysical nostalgia.
Schrift also disagrees with Gadamers claim that
Derrida simply chose Nietzsche over Heidegger. He suggests that, in fact, there are places in
which Derrida privileges Heidegger over Nietzsche. In the end, however, Schrift concludes that,
for Derrida, Nietzsches radicality exceeded that
of Heidegger.
Schrift claims that Nietzsches influence on
Derrida is most apparent in the rejection of binary
logic central to deconstruction. While this rejec
tion is common in contemporary French thought,

it is most closely identified with Derrida. Schrift
also wants to identify it with Nietzsche and suggests that it is a strong methodological similarity
between the two. He then makes the stronger claim
that Nietzsche did not merely anticipate but in fact
engaged in a deconstructive critique. Like Derrida,
he not only inverted the hierarchical oppositions
which he was critiquing, but also displaced them.
According to Schrift, it is this second move that is
often ignored by contemporary critics.
For Schrift it is also significant that Derrida
and Nietzsche are both concerned with authority,
especially regarding literary authority. While the
question of authority is clearly identified with
poststructuralism, he argues, it is often neglected
with regard to the philosopher who pronounced
the death of God. Schrift then offers an interesting deconstruction of Nietzsches subjectivity as
an other. In doing so, it becomes apparent that the
German philosopher often questions the privileged position of the author.
Schrift, many people fail to recognize the ambivalence these two philosophers had towards power.
Many critics incorrectly conflate Nietzsches affirmation of the will to power with an affirmation
of all manifestations of it. Similarly, many critics
overlook Foucaults claim that power also produces in his criticism of the repressive hypothesis.
Schrift also claims that Foucault seeks to
replace a Sartrean subject with a Nietzschean creatively constructed self. He continues to suggest
that Foucaults later philosophy is not a rupture
with his earlier work and signals a return to the
philosophy of the subject. He is simply adding a
supplement, in the Derridean sense, which is not
a correction.
In the chapter Genealogy, Power, and the

Reconfigurations of the Subject, Schrift attempts
to show the continuity in Foucaults work through
his relation to Nietzsche. Foucaults work is commonly separated into three divisions: the early
archaeological; the middle genealogical; and the
late ethical. While many of Foucaults critics claim
that these divisions are attempts to correct previous
mistakes, Schrift maintains the position that there
are four foci evident throughout his work and suggest continuity. These are discourse, truth, power,
and the subject. Furthermore, according to Schrift,
each of these foci is directly linked to Nietzsche.
By elucidating Nietzsches recurrence throughout
Foucaults body of work, Schrift hopes to challenge
the traditional division of the poststructuralists
work and reinforce the continuity found there.
Schrifts section on Deleuze is Putting Nietzsche to Work: Genealogy, Will to Power, and
Other Desiring Machines. He acknowledges that
navigating Deleuzes thought can be difficult,
even terrifying, and offers Nietzsche as a way to
orientate ourselves within the Deleuzian matrix.
His aim is to show where their ideas connect and
also how Nietzsche does work for Deleuze. First,
however, Schrift uses Nietzsche to illustrate two
primary differences between Derrida and Deleuze.
Whereas Derrida is concerned with the text and
interpretation, Deleuze shies away from hermeneutic matters and instead treats the text as an
assemblage of parts that are interconnected and
able to be used. Another difference is the attitude
toward binary concepts. Derrida deconstructs hierarchical oppositions; Deleuze uses many binary
pairs strategically. While Derridas concern is dissolution, Deleuzes is with multiplication. Schrift
claims that Deleuze finds inspiration for this tactic
in Nietzsche. He does not clarify, however, how
Derrida and Deleuze can differ so widely in their
attitudes towards binary oppositions if they both
derive these attitudes from Nietzsches thought.
Foucault draws the relation between truth,

power, and knowledge found in Nietzsche. This
prompts him to focus on relations rather than
substantives and form an analytics of power rather
than a theory of power. In addition, according to
According the Schrift, Deleuze situates the

will to power within a differential logic of affirmation and negation as opposed to Heideggers
logic of Being. His use of will to power also signals a reason why Deleuze would look to Nietzs-
che instead of Marx or Freud. While Marx focused

on power and Freud on desire, Nietzsches will to
power contains both power and will. Deleuze uses
the concept of the will to power while also expanding it. As Schrift points out, the Deleuzian desiring machine lets him avoid Nietzsches problem
speaking of a will to power without a subject that
is willing.
Schrift finishes his discussion of Deleuze by
looking at Nietzsche via Deleuze and at Deleuze
via Nietzsche. First, he assumes a Deleuzian
approach to offer a new interpretation of the Nietzschean bermensch not as a superior type of subject but rather a process of always becoming-other.
Second, Schrift then uses Nietzsches genealogical
critique of Christianity to illuminate Deleuze and
Guattaris critique of psychoanalysis.
nomy, however, because the gift is not free and

actively forgotten. This gift-giving is not unproductive; it produces relations. Schrift then claims
that juxtaposing the economies of the two philosophers suggests close affinities. What Nietzsche
failed to grasp and Cixous saw, however, was that
receiving is also a part of the logic of giving. By
recognizing this, Cixous is able to move beyond
Nietzsche and provide a more subtle, nuanced
economy of gift-giving.
Schrift confronts Nietzsche with Cixous

in On the Gift-Giving Virtue as Feminine Economy. He appears most critical, or at least skeptical, of Nietzsche in relating him to Cixous. In
relating these two philosophers, Schrift makes
clear that his intention is not to portray Cixous as
a Nietzschean or Nietzsche as a feminist. He brackets the question of Nietzsches misogyny in order
to locate Cixous and her logic of the gift in his
French legacy.
In the books final chapter, Why the French

Are No Longer Nietzscheans, Schrift examines
the turn made by recent French thinkers away
from Nietzsche and his poststructural descendants.
First he traces the thought of Jean-Francois Lyotard who, according to Schrift, turned away from
Kant to Nietzsche only to return to Kant and Levinas. He characterizes Lyotard as a French Nietzschean who has turned in his card. Schrift relates
Lyotards philosophical movement between Kant
and Nietzsche to his stance regarding justice. The
will to power provided an attractive alternative to
Kants aesthetic judgment. When Lyotard found
himself in a contradictory position derived from
the will to power, however, he looks to the philosophies of Kant and Levinas. He cannot find the
conceptual resources necessary for grounding his
political philosophy.
Schrift identifies two economies in Nietzsches

works. The first, lower, slave economy is derived
from the law of equal return. In this economy,
true gift-giving is not possible; there must
always be repayment. The second, higher, noble
economy is grounded in excess expenditure. Gifts
can be given in this economy because the debt is
actively forgotten. Schrift then claims that this
noble economy is at work both in the relationship
between Zarathustra and those to whom he teaches
and between Nietzsche and his readers.
Schrift then explains the rejection of Nietzsche by the French Anti-Nietzscheans Luc Ferry,
Alain Renault, and Vincent Descombes. These
thinkers took issue with what they saw as seeking
paradox, avoiding clarity, and excessive rhetoric
in the French Nietzscheans. While Ferry, Renault,
and Descombes may agree with some of the issues
raised by their predecessors, their generally hold
that they went beyond Nietzsche to the point of
obscurity and absurdity in either exaggerating the
problems or attempting to provide solutions.
In Cixous, he claims there is a masculine economy grounded in the law of return and in which
gift-giving is not possible. A feminine economy,
on the other hand, allows the possibility of giftgiving. It diverges from Nietzsches noble eco-
Schrift finishes his work by reflecting on the

current status of Nietzsches French Legacy after
the criticisms leveled against it by Ferry, Renault,
and Descombes. He observes that these criticisms
are polemical and that the Anti-Nietzscheans were
not concerned with actually understanding either

Nietzsche himself or the poststructuralists. Schrift
reiterates the goal of his book with regard to these
criticisms; he wants to provide an alternative and
more generous interpretation of these thinkers.
He does admit, however, that there is a danger to
writing in such a rhetorical style and does not try
to save Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze, or Cixous
from their critics.
While Nietzsches influence in France has
waned, Schrift notes that Nietzsche and his French
Legacy are widely used as resources in the English
speaking world. He then suggests that Nietzsches
critiques of nationalism, identity, and dogmatism,
while not the focus in Paris in the 1960s and
1970s, are relevant to the current global state of
affairs and could prove an invaluable resource in
criticizing national identity and fundamentalism.
Schrift offers his readers a comprehensive
interpretation of both Nietzsche and poststructu-
ralism. His thorough explanations are clear and

he stays close to the texts of the thinkers as he
explains their thinking and relations. This is all the
more impressive considering the complexity of
the philosophers he is considering.
Some readers may find that Schrifts interpretation of Nietzsche and the postructuralists is too
sympathetic and generous, although he admits that
his goal is to offer such an interpretation. They
made be led to think this because Schrift does not
devote much time to confronting objections while
finding the Nietzschean elements in the philosophers thoughts and methods. His task is not a
comprehensive defense of the positions he is elucidating. He does confront the criticisms of the
Anti-Nietzscheans, but he does this primarily to
consider the status of Nietzsches French Legacy.
In any case, Schrifts genealogy of the French Nietzscheans is valuable for anyone hoping to understand both Nietzsche and the thinkers of poststructuralism and their relevance today.
Notes
Schrift, Alan. Nietzsches French Legacy: A Genealogy of Poststructuralism. Great Britain: Routledge,
1995.
10
Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Daoist Thought

A Book Review
Ann Mary Mathew
n her book, Nietzsche, Hiedegger, and Daoist

Thought, Katrin Froese identifies several
areas where the philosophies of Nietzsche,
Hiedegger, and the Daoist philosophers Lauzi and
Zhuangzi overlap and exposits what she sees as
their profound similarities. Nietzsche, Hiedegger,
and Daoist Thought, is an ambitious work with
much to say, including much that is new.
According to Froese, Nietzsche and Hiedegger
are distinguished most starkly from other Western
philosophers by their rejection of metaphysics as
the West had known it before them. Froese pits
all three philosophies against the ancient idea that
the bulk of experience is really just a procession
of blips and aberrations of a reality of immutable
laws that lie beyond it. To Froese, this is one of the
most egregiously wrong tendencies in most Western philosophy: to reject the world of change for
the true world of form. This tendency is almost
non-existent in Eastern thought, and Nietzsche and
Hiedegger, according to Froese, are among the few
Western thinkers who have been immune to it.
For Nietzsche, the insistence on the truth of
concept has meant that we have robbed ourselves
of the very real power of illusion to transform the
world. New ideas are rejected for the old, which
have been valorized as true and eternal. Truths
lose their transformative potential, and the result
is stasis and endless banality. Logic, according to
Nietzsche, is the biggest transgressor:
Logic is the primary example of philosophical
extremism and thus much of Nietzsches assault
focuses on it. The propensity to privilege logic eventuates in a rigid scientism which closes its doors to
everything that cannot be classified
According to Froese, Nietzsche would sugVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
gest that the hyper-mechanized state of the current world is due to the success of such a notion
of metaphysics. Its an interesting and unique
argument:
the danger is that the line between philosophy and praxis has become dangerously narrow.
Abstractions have become our reality, as we continue to be mesmerized by the truth of numbers and
logic. Nietzsche makes the bold suggestion that
philosophys excessive theoretical bent may have
undermined the activity of philosophizing. Once
our concepts have achieved a stranglehold on our
existence, there is no longer any need to philosophize. We deliberately limit our experience to ways
in which it can be categorized, and then we argue
that praxis is important and philosophy is irrelevant.
The hubris of philosophy has therefore led to its
extirpation
Thus Froese argues that the tendency to reject

the unknown for the known is responsible for
the state of the current world, where everything
that isnt for the purpose of production, is devalued and relegated to the periphery, if not rejected
altogether.
For the three philosophies in question, this
rigid metaphysics which has taken hold of the west
is rejected in favor of a fluid metaphysics based in
change (what some may consider no metaphysics
at all)in favor of Nietzsches eternal return, Hiedeggers Being, and the Daoist Dao. In all cases,
the whole is affirmed over its parts, and is considered to be simultaneously the source and destination of all things.
Nietzsches eternal return is predicated on the
idea that the present appropriates the past in order
to create the future: The past remains embedded
11
in the future, and thus from this perspective, the

future is also identical to the past. There is identity in difference and difference in identity. The
Dao is an imminent whole in which all things are
contained. It can never be fully grasped but is the
source of all things. Humans are no more or less
than a part in this whole. Heideggers Being, similarly to the Dao, is an also imminent whole, which
includes everything in the here and now.
Included in this whole is that which is constituted through its interpretation of the world, or
Dasein. Daseins interaction with the larger Being
is a unique relation, and so humans have a special
place in Hiedeggers universe. To Hiedegger, philosophy derives from an interaction of the Dasien
with Being. This interaction is not an appropriation, asas like with the DaoBeing can never
be fully grasped. Thinking is not a function of
Dasiens volition, but is something that happens to
it. It is a kind of attunement. There is a perpetual
tension between the wholeness of Being and finitude of Dasein, and out of this arises Daseins selfmaking tendencies: Thus, self-making is also a
movement towards Being. An intuitive awareness
of Beings wholeness ensures that we always stand
beyond our immediate situation. We straddle the
domains of the finite and infinite. Thus, homelessness is a necessary component of authenticity.
These notions of straddling the domains of
the finite and infinite, and the resultant homelessness recur throughout Froeses book. The finites
relationship to the infinite is an overlapping theme
in the three philosophies. The Daoist sage is most
at home in this relation, content in his own finitude, as he enjoys drifting and floating with the
flow and the flux of the Dao. For Nietzsche and
Hiedegger, this relationship is more fidgety.
Nietzsche, through the concept of eternal return,
is cognizant of the smallness of the individual will
in relation to the vast whole, but yet he feels the
need to take a rebellious stance against this fact.
Nietzschean man takes an attitude of thus I have
willed it to everything that is in fact beyond his
control. For Hiedegger, death alerts us to the inbetween nature of our lives and forces us to make
12
something greater of it: it alerts us to make us

uncomfortable and therefore attempt to make
ourselves whole in the effort to achieve a kind of
rapprochement with Being. Death plays a very
ironic role in this dynamic, since it is the closest
we can come to achieving completeness but also is
that which robs us of it forever.
Froese points out that the notion of the female
is paramount to this in-betweeness:
There is a buried recognition in all of us that we
were once indistinguishable from our mothers and
this may give rise to what Nietzsche refers to as the
Dionysian reconciliation between human beings and
nature. It is not only the break with the mother that
allows us to become individuals, but also the means
by which we try to return to her. The mother too
reminds us of our position in between
However, this identification of the mother

with the cosmos also silences woman, who is both
a source of resentment and neglect. Since woman
is perceived as free from finitude, she is robbed of
her subjectivity and thus her agency. To Nietzsche,
this lack of agency and freedom from finitude may
in fact be the wiser path than the willful but almost
doomed one of the Nietzschean man. In Nietzsches
world, the role of the female might be something
closer to that of the Daoist sage: women are more
comfortable with the murkiness and unpredictability of life than men are[they] take for granted
that they cannot comprehend the whole, and thus
flit more gracefully and calmly through life than
men do.
While all three philosophies are averse to
herd behavior, which is based in mimicry, which
has further foundations in the closed metaphysical
position described above, Froese insists that nevertheless, none of them advocate the radical individualism that they, especially the philosophies of
Nietzsche and Zhuangzi, are often assumed to be
advocating. This is because, according to Froese,
in all these philosophies the self is grounded in
and is part of a larger whole and derives its very
selfhood from interaction from that larger whole.
Uniqueness does not arise out of isolation. This

larger whole refers to the human community only
within the larger universe of nature. The Heideggeran emphasis on the Eregnis (en-owning) is
very similar to the Daoist notion ziran [freedom
and spontaneity], for it suggests that in order to
make something my own, I must also allow myself
to be shaped by something else. Nietzsche, too,
recognizes the greatness of the whole in relation
to the individual: According to Nietzsche, the
best way to participate in the dynamic flux he
considers to be the essence of life,is to engage in
constant acts of self-overcoming. This task brings
to light both the humble and arrogant aspects of
human nature. On the one hand, it is a celebration of human subjectivity. In the other, it serves
as a reminder that nothing we create is permanent
and will both be ravaged and shaped by the dizzying plethora of forces around us. It constitutes
an admission that who we become is never within
our control. Self overcoming also necessitates the
overcoming of the self.
Perhaps the most anemic aspect of all three
philosophies is what they have to say about poli-
tics. Nietzsche, abstractly, advocated a hierarchical systemprobably as a reactionary position

to liberal democracy in which he sees not much
more than the rule of the herdthe rule of the
metaphysically closed and thus intellectually dead
majority. Heidegger, too, advocated hierarchy but
his avocation was more insidious, as he was a Nazi
sympathizer. Daoism advocates something close
to anarchy, or ideally, a polity where everything
works in such perfect accord that the sage-ruler has
very little to do. All three philosophies, encounter
trouble in mediating between the plane of extreme
abstraction, where their ideas work, and that of the
messy realities of politics, where they do not.
Ultimately, Nietzche, Hiedegger, and Daoist
thought do have much in common and it is high
time that these similarities be expounded upon.
Furthermore, all three philosophies have much in
way of response to traditional Western philosophy,
which according to Froese, has taken a grip on
and is imminent within our erawith many negative results. Thus Froeses work might not just be
interesting, but also important toward understanding what exactly is lacking in modern life.
Notes
Froese, Katrin. Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Daoist Thought: Crossing Paths In-Between. New York: State
University Press of New York Press, 2006.
13
Nietzsches Great Politics:

Man and the State of Nature
It is only beginning with me that the earth knows great politics. Thus spoke Nietzsche on
his role in world affairs in his Ecce Homo.1 This
leaves the question of the specific content of these great politics to the reader. The answers that
have been offered have covered the entire range of
the political spectrum and even a few places off of
it. The source of this diversity of opinion lies in the
manner in which Nietzsches political philosophy,
if it existed at all, was presented. There are scattered fragments of positive proposals and harsh
criticisms dispersed throughout Nietzsches writing. One is left with puzzles pieces that lack defined edges and the putting together of the puzzle
is no simple act. The puzzle must be assembled in
the most natural way; no pieces should be forced
together nor should too many be discarded. This
paper will argue that once the puzzle is complete,
a coherent political philosophy will easily be seen.
Nietzsche will be shown as advocating a state of
nature as the preferred default political system.
Before beginning the examination of
Nietzsches political views, we must step back and
examine the question itself. There seem to be two
potential ways to look at the issue of Nietzsches
political philosophy. The first would be to claim
that Nietzsche laid out, in various segments of his
works, a positive proposal for his preferred political system. This will be referred to as the strong
view. The weak view, on the other hand, is that
Nietzsches political philosophy can be constructed from his ethical views and his criticism of
other philosophical systems. The difference between these two views is one of intent: the strong
view sees Nietzsche intending his work to convey
a political philosophy, while the weak view since
the coherent political philosophy as a consequence
of Nietzsches other views, regardless of his intent. This paper will focus its arguments in favor
14
Yan Shurin
of presenting the weaker view as convincing, but

will occasionally highlight points to suggest the
stronger view is also possible.
Surveying the various pieces of the puzzle,
one can see that there are some ways they just will
not fit together. This process of elimination seems like the best initial approach to figure out the
puzzle solution. It is also fitting because we are not
the only ones working on this puzzle. In fact, over
the last few decades there has been an amazing
amount of scholarship done on question of Nietzsche and politics. This paper will briefly examine
some of the approaches that have been taken, both
to learn from their successes and to avoid their
mistakes.
First, we will begin with the somewhat
counter-intuitive notion of Nietzsche as a Democrat. The reason this is such a counter-intuitive
notion is because it seems almost counter-factual.
Nietzsche explicitly makes clear his objections
to two of the basic motivating ideas behind any
sort of democratic government; the wisdom of the
people and the idea of democracy. As if this were
not enough to convince the reader of his hatred of
democracy, Nietzsche specifically levels harsh criticism at democracy itself, calling it out by name.
To see Nietzsches distaste for the wisdom of the people one need look no further than
Nietzsches almost obsessive condemnation of the
herd. The herd, the masses, knows only how to
obey and not how to lead. Nietzsche believed that,
the curiously limited intelligence of human development resulted from the fact that the herd
instinct of obedience is passed on best and at the
expense of the art of commanding.2 This obedience is not the characteristic that makes good leaders
and since Nietzsche believes that the vast majority
of humanity is part of the herd, he obviously sees

no wisdom in the will of the people. He makes his
views on the ability of the people to govern themselves clear when Zarathustra cries:
Have a good distrust today ye, higher men, ye enheartened ones! Ye open-hearted ones! And keep
your reasons secret! For this today is that of the populace.
What the populace once learned to believe without
reasons, who couldrefute it to them by means of
reasons?
And on the market-place one convinceth with gestures. But reasons make the populace distrustful.3
This is Nietzsches view on the marketplace

of ideas that supposedly allows a democracy to
function well. However all of this might not be
enough to dismiss the view that Nietzsche believes in democracy. The simple fact that people cannot govern themselves well does not always imply
that they should not govern themselves at all.
Even more so than the belief in the basic
wisdom of the people, the concept of equality
is the central theme behind any true democracy.
About equality Nietzsche stated, The doctrine of
equality! ...there is no more poisonous poison anywhere.4 To him, the modern concept of equality was completely unjust because it attempted to
make, in the words of Schopenhauer, equal what
is unequal.5 Not only is equality a flawed concept, but equal rights are likewise derided. To Nietzsche the idea of equal rights was laughable because the inequality of rights is the first condition
for the existence of any rights at all A right is a
privilege.6 If man is naturally unequal, democracy as we know it has a hard time finding anything
to support and justify its practice.
These few quotes from Nietzsche, against
the herd and against equality, are only a glimpse of
the invective he directs at the ideas sustaining democracy. In case his disgust with democracy was
not clear enough, Nietzsche occasionally addressed it by name. Nietzsche places himself with those who do not consider the democratic movement
merely a degenerate form of political organization

but a degenerate form of humanity and those that
view it as something that diminishes humanity,
makes it mediocre and of lesser worth.7 This critique against Nietzsches support for democracy is
not always obvious; there are several philosophers
who have recently argued that Nietzsches ideas
can actually be used to build the foundations of
democracy.8
Those wishing to argue that Nietzsches
ideas could support democracy would obviously
concede that Nietzsche himself hated democracy.
They would then argue the line that regardless of
Nietzsches scattered political thoughts, the political system that would most fit with his pluralism,
perspectivism, and desire for self-creation would
be democracy. It might be an unusually antagonistic democracy, but it would be democracy nonetheless. While each of the philosophers who have
attempted to defend this view of Nietzschean democracy have interesting and nuanced arguments
that deserve entire books to properly examine, one
may argue against the whole premise by pointing
to Nietzsches arguments against the basic foundation of democracy.
Though one may look past Nietzsches
explicit statements against democracy, but one
cannot so easily avoid his attacks on majority rule
and on equal rights. A philosophy cannot oppose
both and still provide support for democracy. One
could potentially argue against one or the other,
and argue that either the people will not rule well,
but still have the right to rule or that they will rule
well regardless of natural rights; one cannot attack
both pillars at the same time, to do so would leave democracy without a single support. Could an
ethical system that views a select few as the birds
of prey and the vast majority as mindless sheep
really lead to democracy? More importantly, could
this ethical system lead to democracy when all the
sheep want to do is call the birds of prey evil and
all the birds of prey want to do is eat the sheep? It
should be clear that a true Nietzschean could never
stand for democracy, as it would be just another
system for the many sheep to keep down the few
15
great birds of prey. More plausibly, a Nietzschean

could wish to set up some sort of political system
where the birds of prey would be free to do as they
wish.
The writings of Nietzsche provide ample
evidence of his elitist views. Whether it is the
birds of prey laughing at how tasty the sheep are,
Zarathustras wish to speak only to a few men and
not the rabble of the marketplace, or the very idea
of the Overman, one can easily see that Nietzsche viewed the world as being composed of two
distinct types of people: the great self-overcoming
men and the meek sheep. The question then becomes what kind of political system would such a
world-view entail? Two such potential systems are
oligarchy and dictatorship.
A system of oligarchy seems to have potential. There, the few great men could rule unrestrained and the sheep would just be their obedient
selves. This system would fall neither to the concern about the majority making decisions nor to
the specter of fake equality. In this system the superior men could rule. It would seem to be the optimal system of allowing the birds of prey to rule
over the sheep. In The Antichrist, Nietzsche wrote
about the Code of Manu that he had previously
read.9 This code was the one of the texts that served as the basis for the caste system in Hinduism.
Nietzsche compared it favorably with the Bible,
because by means of it the nobles, the philosophers and the warriors keep the whip-hand over
the majority.10 He goes on to say,
The order of castes, the highest, the dominating law,
is merely the ratification of an order of nature, of a
natural law of the first rank, over which no arbitrary
fiat, no modern idea, can exert any influence. In
every healthy society there are three physiological
types, gravitating toward differentiation but mutually conditioning one another, and each of these has
its own hygiene, its own sphere of work, its own
special mastery and feeling of perfection. It is not
Manu but nature that sets off in one class those
who are chiefly intellectual, in another those who
are marked by muscular strength and temperament,
and in a third those who are distinguished in neither
one way or the other, but show only mediocrity-the last-named represents the great majority, and
16
the first two the select. The superior caste--I call it

the fewest--has, as the most perfect, the privileges
of the few: it stands for happiness, for beauty, for
everything good upon earth.11
Those who wish to argue that Nietzsches

preferred political system is oligarchy would point
to the characterization of the distinct classes as a
natural law and to Nietzsches positive portrayal
of the use of the Code of Manu to keep the whiphand over the majority.
There are several good arguments against
this view. First, Zarathustra makes clear that he
will not be shepherd and hound of the herd! and
that the Overman seeks companions, not corpses
-- and not herds.12 Nietzsches birds of prey have
absolutely no desire to rule the sheep. In fact, it
seems likely that Nietzsche would realize that the
consent of the governed is in fact a constant part of
the concept of ruling; if the birds of prey required
the consent of the sheep, then they would be no
true birds of prey at all. The bird of prey, the overman, has no interest in the fate of the sheep.
The second argument against the view of
oligarchy as Nietzsches preferred political system
is that his praise of the Code of Manu is misunderstood if it is viewed as praise of the political caste
system. Thomas Brobjer made such an argument
in two of his published papers.13 There, he argued
that Nietzsche actually was highly critical of the
caste Code of Manu, even if he viewed it in a positive light when compared to the Bible. Brobjer
quotes Nietzsche as, in a letter to Gast, referring
to the Laws of Manu as a priestly code of morality based on the Veda and then writing in Ecce
Homo that the poets of the Veda are priests and
are not even worthy to unloose the latchet of the
shoes of a Zarathustra.14 It is also worth noting
that just because Nietzsche refers to his view of
there being different classes of people as natural,
it in no way necessitates a system would enshrines
these difference. In fact, specifically because they
are natural, there is no need for a political system
that draws such a resolute distinction. Birds will
be birds and sheep will be sheep, regardless of the
political system.
In a similar light, one could argue that

Nietzsche could also prefer a system of dictatorship. This would solve the potential problem in
an oligarchy of the inevitable conflict between
the Overmen-to-be attempting to each create their
own value systems at the expense of others. If only
one Overman remains, he would essentially be a
dictator over all other people. Support for this proposal can be found in Nietzsches praise for someone like Napoleon, who marched across Europe imposing his will on all. In fact, the idea of a
dictator seems like the potential culmination of the
process of becoming the Overman. Who could be
freer to create their own values, exercise their will
to power, and act in life affirming ways than the
man who stands first among all?
This proposal also falls to the point that
Nietzsche did not want his Overman to be either
shepherd or hound for the common herd. It does
not matter whether one man or a few men are the
rulers, whoever rules finds themselves trapped in
the position of the shepherd. It would also create
the unfortunate situation where the development
of future potential Overmen could be crippled by
the presence of an all-powerful current Overman.
This clearly seems like a problem and highlights a
key point that any potential Nietzschean political
theory must address; that of Nietzsches hatred of
systems.
Nietzsche is a fierce advocate of creating
ones own system of value. His focus is on the
personal self-overcoming and becoming what one
truly is. These commitments leave him diametrically opposed to any universal system of values.
Since any political system grounds its foundation
on a given set of values, Nietzsche would seem
to have inherently opposed any political system.
Nietzsche views universal systems and powerful
institutions as inherently flawed and offers the
example, in the Twilight of the Idols, that liberal
institutions cease to be liberal as soon as they are
attained.15 To Nietzsche, this is simply the consequence of all systems. Although he may be a
pluralist, he also realizes that no system, even if it
claims to be a pluralistic one, can really allow all
possible values to be freely chosen under it. Falling under his general hatred of institutions, Nietzsche holds particular scorn for the nation state.
Thus Spoke Zarathustra is full of ridicule
of the state. Where there is still a people, there the
state is not understood, but hated as the evil eye,
and as sin against laws and customs, says Zarathustra.16 The state, which he described as the
coldest of all cold monsters,
...lieth in all languages of good and evil; and whatever it saith it lieth; and whatever it hath it hath
stolen. False is everything in it; with stolen teeth it
biteth, the bitingone. False are even its bowels.
As if this was not enough to convey his judgment

on the merits of the state, Nietzsche points out
how great everything would be that after the state
ceases to be,
There, where the state ceaseth- there only commenceth the man who is not superfluous: there commenceth the song of the necessary ones, the single and
irreplaceable melody. There, where the state ceaseth- pray look thither, my brethren! Do ye not see it,
the rainbow and the bridges of the Superman?17
It seems worth noting that Nietzsches antagonism to the state extended in his actual life as
well, as he renounced his German citizenship in
1880 and was technically state-less until 1889.18
Nietzsches hatred for the state was surpassed only
by his hatred for nationalism, for those who loved the state. He took special delight in mocking
Deutschland, Deutschland ber Alles because
this sort of nationalism was the combination of all
of his concerns; it was a strong nation-state imposing its value system while destroying the values
and culture of all.
Nietzsches hatred of political systems and
the nation-state has led many to believe that Nietzsche was simply disinterested, and disgusted, with
politics. His various statements on politics itself
have furthered this view. In the Untimely Meditations he pointed out that every philosophy which
believes that the problem of existence is touched
on, not to say solved, by a political event is a joke17
and pseudo-philosophy and argued that placing

concerns of the state as some sort of vital interest for mankind was a relapse into stupidity.19
Bergmann, in his Nietzsche: The Last Anti-Political German, argued that what Nietzsche offered
was neither restoration nor affirmation but a prophetic verdict on the existing power constellation:
Exasperation was his final impulse.20 This view,
of Nietzsche as an anti-political philosopher who
could offer nothing more than his disgust on the
whole affair, is a fairly widespread one. It seems
to be motivated by a combination of Nietzsches
attacks on existing political systems and the perceived incompatibility of any political system with
Nietzsches ethical philosophy.
This view is often supported with
Nietzsches reference to himself as the last antipolitical German in Ecce Homo.21 There are two
problems with the use of this statement to support
the view. The first is that, in context, anti-political seems to imply anti- the then current politics
of Germany.22 The second, and arguably more
important, point is that Nietzsche specifically asked his publisher to remove this passage.23 This
seems to give credence to the view that Nietzsche
was concerned that he would be misinterpreted as
actually being anti-political. In order to move
away from the view of Nietzsche as non-political
or anti-political and towards the argument in favor
of Nietzsches support of the state of nature, we
must step back and examine exactly what political
value Nietzsche actually holds in the highest regard.
red to sacrifice human beings for ones cause, not

excluding oneself.25
This Nietzschean freedom is neither the metaphysical free will nor classical freedom from
outside forces of liberal political philosophy.
Instead, freedom is the condition that allows the
full manifestation of self-overcoming and the
will to power. The statement that best represents
Nietzsches somewhat unusual views on freedom
is that the free man is a warrior.26 This free man
fights against himself and against others, trying to
overcome all. With this sort of freedom identified
as Nietzsches primary political and social good,
we can now examine the condition of society that
would be most conducive to the existence of this
good: the state of nature.
The state of nature, that mythical land
from which the social contract evolved, is the natural home of Nietzsches proposed free men. The
view that the state of nature is Nietzsches preferred situation receives a significant amount of
support from the Nietzschean arguments against
democracy, oligarchy, dictatorship, institutions,
and the state. The common theme of all of these
arguments has been that institutions, by their very
nature, oppress individual freedom. It does not
matter what type of institution it is because any
institution must suppress the will to power and
freedom of all those under it in order to stand. The
state of nature lacks these oppressive institutions
and, because of this, is the ideal home of the true
Nietzschean.
This value is freedom. Freedom is

Nietzsches basic political and social good. His
freedom, however, is not exactly the type espoused
by liberal philosophy. Instead, his freedom means
that the manly instincts which delight in war and
victory dominate over other instincts, for example, over those of pleasure.24 Having freedom
means that one has the will to self-responsibility
and that,
The greatest virtue of the state of nature is

its fluidity. Its lack of dominating power structure
and oppressive political institutions allows constant change to take place. In it, there is no system
telling man how to live. Instead, he is free to create
and destroy his own table of values as often as he
wishes. This chaos provides exactly the right soil
conditions for the growth of Nietzsches ultimate
goal; the Overman.
One maintains the distance which separates us. That

one becomes more indifferent to difficulties, hardships, privation, even to life itself. That one is prepa-
The Overman, the man who has overcome both himself and others, is Nietzsches dream.
He will create new values and destroy old ones,
18
he will freely express his will to power outwards,

and he will free himself from modern morality and
embrace that ancient good of arte. The key point
is that the Overman is the goal to which the setup of society should be oriented. Nietzsche wrote
that A people is natures detour to produce six or
seven great men.27 He also argued that mankind
must work continually at the production of individual great men that and nothing else is its task.
None of these statements, however, deal specifically with creating the political conditions for such
great men. This idea was more clearly stated when
Nietzsche implored mankind to seek out and
create the favorable conditions under which those
great redemptive men come into existence.29 Daniel Conway, in his book Nietzsche and the Political, wrote that since human existence derives
enduring meaning only through the exploits of its
rarest and most exotic specimens, the task of politics is to legislate the conditions under which such
exemplars will most likely emerge and this seems
like a fairly good link between Nietzsches ethical
commitments and the favorable Nietzschean political philosophy.30 There is no more favorable
condition to the creation of great men than the
state of nature. One of the reasons it is so favorable is because the state of nature is essentially a
state of war.
che wrote that,
Thomas Hobbes wrote that when, men

live without a common power to keep them all in
awe, they are in that condition which is called war;
and such a war as is of every man against every
man.31 This was the motivating factor behind his
view that people would seek the safety of the social contract. Without systems, both institutions
and moral system, man would be left completely unprotected from other people. He would also,
however, be completely unrestrained from the
Nietzschean point of view. Nietzsche would agree
that without strong institutions, man is in constant
struggle or war, but he would view this as a great
thing.
Hobbes argued that people would always

form institutions because no one man was strong
enough to protect himself for others. This was why
he believed man should leave the state of nature.
Nietzsche, on the other hand, would be less likely
to hold such concerns. His Overman, by definition, was strong enough to stand alone against the
multitudes. In fact, if he were not strong enough to
stand alone, and instead had to rely on the power
of others, he would be no Overman at all. Now that
we have seen that Nietzsche is unconcerned with
two of Hobbes worries about the state of nature,
the eternal state of war and the situation of one vs.
many, we can address Hobbes famous line that in
the state of nature mans life would be solitary,
poor, nasty, brutish, and short.34
Nietzsche essentially loved war. To him, it

represented all that was good with man. Referring
to the illiberal power of liberal institutions, NietzsVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
these same institutions produce quite different

effects while they are still being fought for; then
they really promote freedom in a powerful way.
On closer inspection it is war that produces these
effects, the war for liberal institutions, which, as a
war, permits illiberal instincts to continue. And war
educates for freedom.32
War both teaches man about freedom and

allows him to exercise it. The very act of war is
the expression of the will to power and the overcoming, both of the self and of others. It also harkens
back to the glory of ancient Greece and Rome, to
the days before the victory of Christianity that Nietzsche loathed so much took over. War, the conflict
where each man attempts to assert his will over the
other, seems like the perfect place for the creation
of the Overman. Nietzsches desire for the Overman to destroy old values and create new values
also seems perfectly at home in a state of war. War
really is the destruction of old institutions and values and the creation of new ones and this is why
Nietzsche loved it. Since Nietzsche believes that
freedom is the greatest political and social good,
and that it is something one conquers, we can
clearly see why Nietzsche loved conflict and war
so much.33
Nietzsche wrote that the free man spits on

19
the contemptible type of well-being dreamed of by

shopkeepers, Christians, cows, females, Englishmen, and other democrats and would thus largely be unconcerned with Hobbes worries about a
comfortless life.35 Nietzsches main political and
social value is freedom and not some sort of utilitarian good. In response to the concern that
institutions make lives better, Nietzsche could either argue that he does not care, that he spits on
that sort of well-being, or instead he could argue that they only make life more comfortable for
the sheep. These institutions are protection for the
sheep, why in the world would the bird of prey
want them?
The social contract that Hobbes sees man
entering into to escape the state of nature is both
somewhat understandable and a serious concern
for Nietzsche. Nietzsche wrote,
Refraining mutually from injury, violence, and exploitation and placing ones will on a par with that
of someone elsethis may become, in a certain
rough sense, good manners among individuals if
the appropriate conditions are present (namely, if
these men are actually similar in strength and value
standards and belong together in one body). But as
soon as this principle is extended, and possibly even
accepted as the fundamental principle of society, it
immediately proves to be what it really isa will to
the denial of life, a principle of disintegration and
decay.36
This shows that the focus of Nietzsches concern with leaving the state of nature to form institutions truly is his view of equality as unjust. Were
Hobbes to be correct about man essentially being
equal, then Nietzsche might concede the need for
institutions. However, since there are both sheep
and birds of prey, there is no room for powerful
systems and institutions.
The analogy of the birds of prey and the
sheep is a significant theme in Nietzsches work.
While it may be the case that it is a simple analogy about the two types of people there are in the
world, it may, on the other hand, give significant
clues to Nietzsches political philosophy. Nietzsche specifically states that the Overman refuses to
20
be either the shepherd or the herding dog and instead is clearly a bird of prey. This shows that what
the Overman wants from politics is freedom and
not power (responsibility) over others. There is no
condition that would give him more freedom, and
less institutional connections to the sheep, than the
state of nature.
The hope is that the arguments against the
views that Nietzsches preferred political system
was either democracy or oligarchy/dictatorship,
combined with the examination of what kind of
social situation Nietzsche would want to exist, provide good evidence for believing the Nietzsches
preferred political condition was the state of nature. There are several potential objections to this
view and they deserve careful consideration. The
first major concern is the question of why, if he
really did believe the state of nature was optimal,
Nietzsche did not explicitly call for it.
Nietzsche is not one to avoid saying something because it sounds too outrageous, neither is
he one who restricts himself to only certain topics.
So why then does he never devote a few words
to explicitly arguing for the state of nature? This
question may not, however, be a fair one. This is
because the argument is for the weaker view, that
a political philosophy can easily be constructed
from Nietzsches other views. There is no need for
Nietzsche to have been aware that he was actually
arguing for the state of nature. This would in turn
explain why he never directly addressed it. There
is also, however, a good argument in favor of the
stronger position.
Nietzsche hated systems. He believed them
to be inherently flawed because their desire for
universality necessarily sacrificed justice in many
cases. Holding this position made it impossible for
him to explicitly propose his own political system.
He was left to simply attempt to destroy all the
ones he saw around him. Were he to be successful
in the destruction, he would also be successful in
creating his state of nature. That is because the state of nature is arguably the default state of human
existence. Nietzsche has no need to explain how to
create his preferred system; instead he can simply

focus on destroying those he opposes.
A second objection is that the state of nature is not a stable political situation. Philosophers
such as Locke, Hobbes, and Rousseau, all saw
man leaving the state of nature, even if it was for
different reasons and to different ends. It seems
that even Nietzsche would have to agree that it is
natural for people to try to form institutions, because most people are sheep and wish to obey and
be protected. If the political condition is only temporary, can it really be a political goal?
Not only is this not a damning objection
to the view that Nietzsche preferred the state of
nature, it is in fact further evidence in support of it.
Nietzsche could never prefer a static system. Instead, he would love a system that was in constant
flux and that had the constant creation and destruction of values. Nietzsche would no doubt want to
leave room in his political system for an Overman
to have the freedom to do things such as conquer
a herd of sheep or build an empire. The key is that
the empire would have to fall one day. Nietzsche
could praise Napoleon for his conquests at the
same time he prays for the fall of the French Empire. Nothing would seem to please Nietzsche more
than a cycle of the state of nature and conquest by
Overmen. If the Overman, the bird of prey, ever
became the undisputed ruler or the shepherd, he
would not be an Overman anymore. As long as
there are those such as Nietzsche tearing down the
old systems, it is perfectly fine that people try to
create new ones.
The next objection might be that Nietzsches
preference for the state of nature really is anti-political. If one were to view the state of nature as
the absence of political issues, then the view of
Nietzsche as non-political or anti-political would
seem to be correct. This objection is that a contentless political ideology is not a political ideology at
all.
Nietzsches political ideology is not, however, content-less. Nietzsche is clearly not indiffeVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
rent as to what the political situation is. Also, he

truly cannot be view as non-political or anti-political because he clearly has strong preferences for
the proper political state of affairs. In a sense, this
is analogous to the debate over whether Nietzsche,
in general, offered any positive proposals or if he
limited himself to criticism. While there is still debate about this, a careful reading of Nietzsches
work reveals that he does in fact hold many positive values, which can be seen in his writing on the
will to power, life-affirming behavior, self-overcoming, and his conception of freedom. One cannot truly claim Nietzsche is non-political when he
holds his own conception of freedom in such high
regard.
Nietzsches strong distaste for institutions,
coupled with his view of freedom as the highest
political and social good, can lead one to view him
as an anarchist. The fact that he seems to enjoy
war and chaos so much only strengthens this view.
If this is the case, then characterizing Nietzsche as
favoring the state of nature is accurate, but does
not go far enough. While viewing Nietzsche as an
anarchist might be tempting at first glance, upon
closer examination Nietzsche will be shown to not
have been a true anarchist.
Some evidence for Nietzsche not being an
anarchist can be found in his mocking of anarchists
themselves. An example of this can be seen in the
preface to The Dawn, where Nietzsche writes,
Only listen to our anarchists, for instance: how morally they speak when they would fain convince! In
the end they even call themselves the good and the
just.37
The counter to this would be that, while it may be

true that Nietzsche disliked the anarchists of his
day, his mocking does nothing to disprove the fact
his political philosophy was largely anarchist. There are, however, several important commitments
that keep Nietzsche from being an anarchist. The
first is that he valued the creation of ones own
table of values too much to be a true anarchist.
While an anarchist could value destruction for
its own sake, Nietzsche values the destruction of
21
values only as so far as it allows the creation of

news one. This ties into the second commitment
that does not fit into an anarchist model, that of the
Overman. The Overman is a creator of values and
builder of systems and anarchy could not support
such a figure. Overall, Nietzsche could never support anarchy because to him it would fall to the
same problems as nihilism; it may be right about
its criticism of other systems, but it is wrong in its
lack of positive proposals.
Nietzsche was a political commentator and
around him he saw great change. He wrote that in
Europe,
The long-drawn-out comedy of its petty states and
the divided will of its dynasties and democracies
should finally come to an end. The time for petty
politics is past: the very next century will bring with
it the struggle for mastery over the whole earththe
compulsion to grand politics.38
While it may be tempting to take this statement

to mean that Nietzsche thought some great power
would soon become master over the whole earth, marching across Europe in Napoleonic fashion, this statement is still not a call for the establishment of some powerful institution. Instead, in
light of all of Nietzsches other political and ethical commitments, this grand politics will most
likely involve the struggle of Overmen against the

institutions of old.
The state of nature is Nietzsches preferred
political situation. The absence of system and institutions imposing their judgments and values on
others allows the freedom Nietzsche views as essential for the coming of the Overman. Since the
arrival of the Overman is not a one-time event, but
is instead an ongoing process, the state of nature
is the preferred default political setting. It creates
the optimal conditions for the flourishing of the
Overman. While many have attempted to interpret
Nietzsches philosophy to support everything from
radical participatory democracy to the ideology of
the Nazis, the view of Nietzsche supporting the
state of nature seems like the most natural one. For
those who take seriously Nietzsches claims that
philosophy is largely autobiographical, they need
to look no further than the Germany of Nietzsches
time to see the source of his political views. As
nationalistic hysteria swept Germany, placing the
strong state as the ultimate goal of mankind, Nietzsche stood against it and fought for the freedom
of individual men.39 This makes Nietzsche, the cynical, hateful, and insulting Nietzsche, a humanist
of sort: a Nietzschean humanist, but a humanist no
less.
Yan Shurin is a junior pursuing a double major in Philosophy and Economics.

He is particularly interested in the philosophy of power and relationship ethics.
Notes
1

2

3

4

5
6

22
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Ecce Homo, Why I am a Destiny, #1. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:
Modern Library, 2000.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good and Evil, Part 5, #199. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Part 4, #9. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of The Idols, Maxims and Arrows, #48. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale.
London: Penguin Books, 2003.
Ibid.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Antichrist, #57. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale. London: Penguin Books,
2003.
7

8
See, among others, A Nietzschean Defense of Democracy: An Experiment in Postmodern Poli

tics by Lawrence J. Hatab, Nietzsche and Political Thought by Mark Warner, Identity/Differ

ence: Democratic Negotiations of Political Paradox by William E. Connolly, and Nietzsche,

Politics, and Modernity by David Owen.
9

2003.
10
Ibid.
11

2003.
12
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Prologue, #9. Trans. Walter Kaufmann.

New York: Modern Library, 1995.
13
Brobjer, Thomas. The Absence of Political Ideals in Nietzsches Writings: The Case of the Laws

of Manu and the Associated Caste-Society, Nietzsche-Studien 27 (1998): 300-318 and Ni

etzsches Reading About Eastern Philosophy The Journal of Nietzsche Studies 28 (2004) 3-35.
14
Brobjer, Thomas. Nietzsches Reading About Eastern Philosophy The Journal of Nietzsche

Studies 28 (2004) 3-35.
15
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of the Idols, Skirmishes of an Untimely Man, #38. Trans. R. J. Hol

lingdale. London: Penguin Books, 2003.
16
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra, The New Idol, #11. Trans. Walter Kaufmann.

New York: Modern Library, 1995.
17
Ibid.
18
Friedrich Nietzsche, <http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nietzsche/#1>
19
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Untimely Meditations, Schopenhauer as Educator, Part 4
20
Bergmann, Peter. Nietzsche: The Last Anti-Political German, Indianapolis: Indiana University

Press, 1987, p.183
21
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Ecce Homo, Why I am So Wise, #3. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:

22 The very nature of my origin allowed me an outlook transcending merely local, merely national

and limited horizons, it cost me no effort to be a good European. On the other hand, I am

perhaps more German than modern Germans, mere citizens of the German Reich could possibly

be,-I, the last anti-political German. And yet my ancestors were Polish noblemen: it is owing to

them that I have so much race instinct in my blood, who knows? This seems to suggest that by

anti-political Nietzsche meant that he was against the politics of the German Reich.
23
Golomb, Jacob and Robert S. Wistrich. Nietzsche, Godfather of Fascism? On the Uses and

Abuses of a Philosophy, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002, pp.1-17
24
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of the Idols, Skirmishes of an Untimely Man, #38. Trans. R. J.

Hollingdale. London: Penguin Books, 2003.
25
Ibid.
26
Ibid.
27
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good and Evil, #126. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:

28
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Untimely Meditations, Schopenhauer as Educator, Part 6
29
Ibid.
30
Conway, Daniel. Nietzsche and the Political, New York: Routledge, 1997, p.8.
31
Hobbes, Thomas. The Leviathan, Chapter XIII
23
32

33
34
35

36

37
38

39

24
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of the Idols, #38. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale. London: Penguin
Books, 2003.
bid.
Hobbes, Thomas. The Leviathan, Chapter XIII
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of the Idols, #38. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale.
London: Penguin Books, 2003.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Dawn, Preface, #3
In the Untimely Meditations (Schopenhauer as Educator, Part 4) Nietzsche wrote, Here,
however, we are experiencing the consequences of the doctrine, lately preached from all the roof
tops, that the state is the highest goal of mankind and that a man has no higher duty than to serve
the state: in which doctrine I recognize a relapse not into paganism but into stupidity. It may be
that a man who sees his highest duty in serving the state really knows no higher duties; but there
are men and duties existing beyond this-and one of the duties that seems, at least to me, to be
higher than serving the state demands that one destroy stupidity in every form, and therefore in t
his form too.
The Human Condition and the 21st Century

Jessica Spradling
rendt divides the human condition into

three fundamental modes of existence:
labor, work, and action. The human condition of life is labor.1 Labor encompasses tasks
whose purpose is the maintenance our physical bodies, and, like life itself, the end of labor
is unworldly and unimaginable. Arendt borrows
Aristotles term, animal laborans, for humans
engaged in the labor mode of existence. The human condition of worldliness, on the other hand,
is work. Man uses work as a mode to provide artificial things. Arendt adopts Marxs term, homo
faber, to designate humans engaged in the fabrication of things in the world. Lastly, the human
condition of plurality corresponds to the mode of
action. Action and speech create a web of relationships between men and the result is the world. As
action is the only of the three fundamental activities that cannot be performed in isolation, action is
most closely related to Arendts ideal polis.
These three fundamental modes of human existence occur in different spheres of existence, the
two most fundamental being the public sphere and
the private sphere. The public is one of freedom,
permanence and honor, whereas the private is one
of necessity, futility and shame.2 Arendt finds the
origin for these two realms in the Greek polis,
where in addition to the private life of the family,
man was given a second life called the bios politikos.3 Once the polis became the sphere where
the highest activities of man occurred, the political sphere assumed priority over the private
one.4 The private life of man was deprived of the
high activities of the polis, and men who could not
participate at all in the political realm were either
barbarians or slaves. Contrary to current popular
thinking, the public realm was a place where as
man contended with the plurality of others, he was
an individualwhereas in the private sphere, all
men were the same. Friendship became the public relationship whereas love became the private
relationship.5
The Human Condition Parts I & II
The modern social realm arose as a sphere
of existence that was, strictly speaking, neither
public nor private. Within the social, housekeeping and household chores were brought out of
the private sphere to what was once the public
sphere. Thus, in the modern age, the public and
the social are often confused. Arendt also relates
the rise of the social sphere to the decline of the
family unit. She argues that the dominance of the
social stems from an increase in population: the
larger a population becomes, the more it tends toward behavior.6 Society is born when public life
constitutes only those things which testify to the
mutual dependence of social existence and where
the activities connected to the preservation of life
(labor) become public.7 Therefore, while at once
demolishing the public sphere, the modern age has
greatly infringed on the private sphere. By eroding
the public and pushing the private into the public,
modern man is left with no choice but the conformity of the social realm. Wealth and property have
also shifted from association with the public realm
to association with the private realm;8 though as is
the nature of the modern, the private care of this
private property became a public concern.9
Parts III & IV: Labor and Work
Though they are actually two parts of a threepart paradigm, Arendt draws a more direct comparison between work and labor. For the most
part, she describes work and labor as two sides of
the same coin, beginning with the Greek distinction between ponein and ergazestha.10 Both labor
and work are modes of existence in which man
is drawn away from the world and into isolation.
25
Arendt argues that the phenomenal distinction

between labor and work is the difference in the
worldly character of the thing produced;11 labor
produces only what can be quickly consumed,
whereas work produces objects with durability.
Unlike Marx, the Greeks did not consider labor to be noble. To the Greeks labor was still connected to slavish-ness and lack of individuality.
Under the status labor the Greeks included all
occupations taken on not for their own sake but
in order to provide the necessities of life.12 The
Greeks found the work of slaves degrading and
animal-izing. They considered human characteristics those not shared with any other animal.
Thus, anything man shared with other animals
was not considered human (they were the animal laborans). Arendt laments that the distinction
between work and labor is missing in post-modern political and economic discourse. She argues
that only Adam Smith and Karl Marx came close
with their shared distinction between productive
labor and unproductive labor. Both Marx and
Smith share contempt for menial servants, who
leave nothing behind in return for their consumption.13 However, unlike Marx, Arendt does not
see the emancipation of labor as a move toward an
age of freedom. On the contrary, she argues that
the modern dominance of labor not only failed to
usher in an age of freedom for all but will result,
on the contrary, in forcing all mankind for the first
time under the yoke of necessity.14
Labor is connected phenomenally to the burden of biological life. Like human corporeal life,
labor is ceaselessly caught in a cycle of fertility,
growth and decay. Unlike the word work which
is both a noun and a verb, the word labor has no
noun equivalent that points to a finished project:
labor is always in process. In laboring, man becomes detached from the world and others. When
man labors, Arendt describes him as absorbed in
his bodily labor in a sense similar to Martin Heideggers concept of Da-sein, being absorbed in
the handiness of objects. One labors as one hammers, without thinking and without human interaction. As opposed to Marxs ideal of labor unit26
ing individuals, Arendt argues that laboring man

is not an individual. Too absorbed in his beingtowards his labor to think, the laboring individual
has no way to individuate himself. Labor is the
only activity that corresponds strictly to the experience of worldlessness.15
The dangers in mans absorption in labor and
removal from the world are manifold. If the entire
world of humans were engaged in labor, then the
world would lose its worldly qualities. Humans
become alienated from the world that surrounds
them and begin to lose touch with the framework
within which they judge reality, trust in the reality of life... depends almost exclusively on the intensity to which it is felt, on the impact with which
it makes itself felt.16 The modern focus on labor
has also created the distinction between wealth
and property. In pre-modern time when man had
to own to be a member of society property was
wealth. Wealth, on the other hand, is that which is
generated by the surplus of labor power. The focus
on this surplus for the good of society has been
one of the major forces heralding the domination
of the social and the obliteration of the public and
the private. Arendt defines socialization as the
substituting of society of collective man-kind for
individual men as its subject.17
Opposed to animal laborans the laborer, Arendt defines homo faber the fabricator. Unlike
the laborer who is constantly in the midst of the
process of labor and whose labor is of the body,
homo faber sees the world as that of means and
ends. Homo faber works with his hands to create
the objects that constitute the non-mortal home of
mortal humans. In other words, homo faber takes
from nature (violently) and creates from what he
has taken the artifices which are between men in
the world. The products of work guarantee the
permanence and durability without which a world
would not be possible at all.18 These objects
have durability in Lockes sense and value in
Marxs sense. They give the human artifice stability and continuity without which the world could
not be a reliable habitat for man. Human life is a
constant struggle in reification in so far as it is enDartmouth Philosophy Journal
gaged in world-building, and the degree of worldliness of produced things, which all together form
the human artifice, depends upon their greater or
lesser permanence in the world itself.19 As far as
classifying things by their worldliness, Arendt defines the durability of objects by their resemblance
or non-resemblance to the cycle of human life
(i.e. their non-resemblance to that created through
labor). The least durable objects are those needed for the life process themselves. Like humans,
these objects come and go quickly, their worldliness is brief, and these objects provide humans no
evidence for the continuity of world.
Homo faber, however, is not the positive alternative to animal laborans. In his work of fabrication homo faber possesses a tendency towards the
end justifies the means thinking. Animal laboran
is reduced to a bodily experience of the world, but
homo faber is obsessed with use and value, it is
for the sake of usefulness in general that homo
faber judges and does everything in terms of in
order to.20 In fabricating his objects, homo faber
not only isolates himself from the world, but also
creates objects for further privation.21 Similar to
labors affect on the division between wealth and
property, work has created the idea of value as
opposed to worth. Arendt argues, value is the
quality a thing can never possess in privacy but
acquires automatically the moment it appears in
public.22 Value is also relatively unstable. Arendt
suggests that this creates in homo faber a tendency
toward assigning values in a relativistic sense. At
the very least, the birth of value comes with the
loss of intrinsic worth.23
Part V: Action
Action is the third mode of the human condition, and for Arendt, action is the ideal mode of
existence. Action, together with its partner speech,
is the activity of humans in the political sphere.
Action need not entail movement; Arendt singles
out passive resistance as one of the most effective forms of action. Together, action and speech
are what reveal the basic plurality of the human
condition.24 Action has no corresponding prototype such as homo faber or animal laborans. AcVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
tion exists only in the present moment and creates

the collective polis, which Arendt envisions as the
organization of people as it arises out of acting
and speaking together.25 Only in action can human beings reveal who they are as opposed to what
they are.26 There is an impossibility as it were, to
solidify into words the living essence of the person
as it shows itself in the flux of action and speech.27
Action and speech create the interest in between
men about some worldly object,28 and this interest, in the form of sheer human togetherness, accounts for the existence of the world.
The potentiality of sheer human togetherness
is power.29 In fact, without sheer human togetherness human speech becomes mere talk instead
of the idealized individuating speechsimilar to
Heideggers concept of idle talk. If there is no
space for humans to engage in action and speech,
then society as a whole experiences an unraveling of common sense and an alienation from the
world.30 In this situation, the very reality of the
world begins to disintegrate and there is no longer
a world guaranteed by appearing to all.31 Action, however, is unpredictable, irreversible, and
anonymous.32 Any individual person participating
in the polis cannot possibly predict the outcome
of the greater whole. Arendts argument about the
unpredictable nature of action is difficult. If an
action is completely unpredictable, would that not
mean that no one could be considered guilty? This
clearly runs counter to Arendts ideas about public responsibility. Though Hannah Fenichel Pitkin
makes this questions her central problem in The
Attack of the Blob, I would argue that the problem
is not so dire. Because Arendt believed that when
thought and action are used to their full engagement, men can be evaluated on their intentions and
either punished or forgiven.
We can now see the tiered structure of the
modes of the human condition arising, with action having the highest priority, followed by work,
and lastly by labor. Arendt argues that labor is the
most removed of the modes of existence from action, whereas work is slightly closer: workmanship is unpolitical but not apolitical, whereas labor
27
is both.33 Additionally, unlike homo faber, who

at least creates the objects fot the world of action
and speech, animal laborans has no qualities for
distinction.34 Action was an ideal obtained by the
Greek, but gradually lost and degraded as history
moved through the domination of homo faber,
animal laborans, and now the emergence in late
modernity of the society of job holders, which
has all but leveled the possibilities for action. Arendt sees an increased focus on processes accompanying this shift away from action and toward
labor.35 She offers both the emergence of natural
science and history as evidence for a new focus on
processes.
Arendt concludes the section about action
with a discussion of forgiveness and punishment.
The possibilities of forgiveness and punishment
allow for action to take place in spite of its unpredictable nature. She argues, the alternative to
forgiveness, but by no means its opposite, is punishment; both attempt to put an end to something
that without interference could go on endlessly.36
Human activities that fall outside of the bounds of
forgiveness and punishment cannot be dealt with
in the context of human world and thus are inherently unworldly. Again in response to Pitkins criticisms of action, I would argue Arendt intended
events outside the scope of forgiveness and punishment to not be classified as results of worldly
thought and action.
Part VI The Vita Activa in the Modern Age
Hannah Arendt argues that the progression
from ancient to pre-modern to modern to present
day can be tracedat least at a certain distance
by following several historical trends. Some of
these trends are already familiar from earlier chapters: the progression from the polis to homo faber
to animal laborans, the progression from action
to work to labor, and the replacement of both the
public and private realms with the social realm.
In her final chapter, Arendt synthesizes these ideas
and pushes her thesis toward more specific commentary on the state of the human condition in the
modern world. She ties together the various trends
with an explication of three great events at the
28
threshold of the modern age: the discovery of

America, the Reformation of European Christianity, and the invention of the telescope which led to
the development of a new science that considers
the nature of the earth from the viewpoint of the
universe.37
The discovery of America and the Reformation began a process of world alienation and
degradation of the worldliness of the world. The
age of exploration shrank the physical world to
something manageable by the human mind. Arendt argues that as nothing can remain immense
if it can be measured, the earth seems to have become less impressive, less of an obstacle that humans must overcome. The first step toward world
alienation in Arendts thinking is a step toward
a better grasp of the physical world. When man
engages what Arendt calls surveying capacity,
he must necessarily disentangle himself from all
involvement in and concern with the close at hand
and withdraws himself to a distance from everything near him.38 Thus, in the modern age, man
must be pushed back from the world at a distance,
engaged in a macroscopic, unworldly view.
In a second historical movement that loosened the threads of the web of human interactions,
the Reformation of European Christianity had the
decisive effect of individual expropriation and accumulation of social wealth.39 As Arendt argued
in her discussion of labor and work, wealth (as opposed to property) does not indicate a privately
owned share of a common world40 necessary for
worldliness. Wealth is closely tied to the process
of wealth accumulation. Like labor, wealth indicates an endless task: the process of wealth accumulations, as we know it, stimulated by the life
process and in turn stimulating human life, is possible only if the world and the very worldliness
of man are sacrificed.41 Additionally, ones social
class began to replace ones natural membership
in a family,42 which Arendt believes decreases the
potentiality for individualism.
The event Arendt devotes the most analysis
to is the discovery of the telescope. This discovery
is both informed by and informs the loss of worldliness and the shrinking of the world caused by the
first two great events. After the invention of the
telescope, the viewpoint of the sciences changed
greatly. Not only was Galileo able to confirm Copernicuss theory of a heliocentric universe, but
his improvements in the telescope eventually led
to a system without a fixed center,43 and allowed
for general relativism to emerge in the sciences
in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Coupled
with his philosophical counterpart, Descartes, Galileo led the shift in the modern era toward doubt.
Doubt coupled with the macroscopic viewpoint is
what Arendt calls remoteness. Both characteristics
of remoteness were strong factors contributing to
modern world alienation:
Cartesian doubt did not simply doubt that human
understanding may not be open to every truth or that
human vision may not be able to see everything, but
that intelligibility to human understanding does not
at all constitute a demonstration of truth, just as visibility did not at all constitute proof of reality.44
One of the dire consequences of this new

worldview proves the loss of common sense. A
focus on introspection, the sheer cognitive concern of consciousness with its own content,45
leaves man away from the world confronted with
nothing and nobody but himself.46 Introspection
leads men away from cooperation in the world and
the agreed upon reality, mans source of common
sense. The new ultimate point of reference became
the human mind itself: with the disappearance of
the sensually given world, the transcendent world
disappears as well, and with it the possibility of
transcending the material world in concept and
thought.47 Another consequence of the Archimedean point and the concomitant rise of Cartesian
doubt is the reversal of the hierarchical order between the vita contemplative and the vita activa.48
Initially, this reversal allowed for the rise of homo
faber, as making and fabricating replaced the high
position formerly occupied by contemplation.49
However, it was not just a shift toward work, but a
shift toward the processes of fabricating and making. Thus, homo faber lost the permanent stanVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007
dards of measurements which, prior to the modern

age, have always served him as guides for doing
and criteria for his judgment.50 Homo faber could
no longer enjoy the same illusion of immortality
that he previously had.
Why the victory of animal laborans? Arendt
argues that the victory of animal laborans would
never have been complete had not the process of
secularization, the modern loss of faith inevitably
arising from Cartesian doubt, deprived individual
life of its immortality, or at least of the certainty
of immortality.51 Action became almost synonymous with work.52 Human activity shifted toward
processes, until the present day when we have arrived at a society of jobholders where man is
acquiesced in a dazed tranquilized functional
type of behavior.53
The Content of The Human Condition
Like Arendt herself, The Human Condition
is difficult to categorize; the text is an integrated
mixture of history, ontology, and political theory.
The Human Condition is an attempt at grounding
the phenomenological development of the vita activa in human history. As the text develops, Arendt
outlines both the various modes of existence that
constitute the human condition and the historical
arc of this condition from the ancient Greeks to the
modern age. By describing the human condition
in terms of a developmental, historical process, Arendt adds the human element Heidegger omitted
from Being and Time. Unlike the ahistorical and
apolitical goals of Being and Time, Arendt aims to
describe man living in the world, and thus is free
to give explicit critique of how man chooses to act
in that world. Arendt places a high value on individuality and disdains the modes of existence that
discourage individuality, namely labor and, too a
lesser extent, work. Action is Arendts most prized
mode of existence, but unfortunately this mode
has become less possible to attain in the modern
age than it was in the Classical Period. One could
ask, as Hannah Pitkin does, if the modern age has
fallen so far into the de-invidualizing and worlddegrading modes of existence, what possibility remains for the individual?
29
Arendt divides the human condition into

three modes of existence: action, work, and labor.
One mode has dominated the human world in each
of the three major periods of recorded history, and
each mode both affects and is affected by the situation of the world of man. One potential problem
with Arendts thought, but one that makes it easier
for us to followat least at firstis that like the
modes of existence, most of her concepts seem to
fall nicely into groups of three. Below I have included a chart for quick reference so that we may
place the concepts side-by-side in a somewhat organized fashion.
Though a chart like this is necessarily reductive, it is helpful to have at least a sketchy mental
picture of the many divisons in The Human Condition. Though I believe she meant these terms to
be somewhat fluid and metaphoric, I hope this can
at least give us a general feel for the projection
of her text without having to go once more into
detailed exegesis of each mode and its subsequent
qualities.
Absent from this chart is the arc Arendt
clearly saw in the development from ancients to
moderns: a decay from a period of individuality
and power to one of group-think, drudgery and
passivity. Humanity functioned at its most ideal
in ancient Greece, and has slid steadily downward
ever since through a gradual change in focus from
thought, to production, and finally to consumption. What motivates these historical changes is
not entirely clear in The Human Condition. Arendt seems to suggest it is a concomitant effect
Mode
Mentality/Icon
Ancients
Action
Polis
PreModern
Work
Modern
Labor
30
of increasing population, growth in medical and

scientific knowledge, and changes in our perception of the size of the world. Though Arendts
description of historical Greece and Medieval Europe are interesting, I believe they are meant to be
taken in a general, metaphoric sense. She cites
passages from ancient literature and descriptions
of Medieval marketplaces, but includes little empirical historical research. I find her idealization
of Ancient Greece to be so rose-colored as to be
somewhat untrustworthy. Her argument does not
rely heavily on her historical content until the final
section, The Vita Activa and the Modern Age.
In this final section, her description of the modern
condition takes precedent over her conception of
how this modern situation came to be. Here we are
faced with the problems of modern society, with
the historical possibilities as shadowy alternatives
to our current situation.
In Arendts description, the modern age
is a bleak one for man. The dominance of labor
has led to a hand-to-mouth type of society. Laborers labor ceaselessly, their only goal being the
preservation of their bodies, so life itself becomes
the object of highest value. In their labor, laborers are interested exclusively in processes and instrumentality, and are disengaged from the world
and disconnected from other humans, even if they
are physically near them. World-alienation and
Cartesian doubt have come to define the modern
age. Together have degraded the worldliness of
the world. Without the world in common, people
lose their shared common awareness and the ability to think. Unlike Heideggers Da-sein, man in
World and its Realms
Worldview
Mind
Political/private (property)
Geocentric
Homo Faber
Hands (product focus)
Public/private
Heliocentric/
Christianity
Animal Laborans
Body (process focus)
Social (wealth)
No Fixed Center/Doubt
Arendts thought has no ability to assert an authentic self in isolation from others.
But what could be the way out of all
of this? Arendt clearly believes that we are not
doomed to be laborers (whether or not the world
is trapped into being a society dominated by the
mentality of labor is less clear). She seems to suggest that man retains an ability and responsibility to think, act, and speak together with others;
to be more concerned with the world instead of
production or consumption of worldly things. Arendt seems to believe that switching mentalities
is easier than people believe, one merely needs to
take up the possibilities of the alternative to switch
mentalities.
The Structure of The Human Condition
Perhaps fittingly to her foremost concernwith man in the world, Arendt devotes little
space in The Human Condition to a discussion of
her methodology. Arendt conceives of action and
speech as events that happen in a momentany
attempt to capture them afterwards is necessarily
flawed. The history Arendt gives in The Human
Condition seems to be one she constructs from intellectual texts and historical institutions. Figures
such as Plato, Socrates, St. Thomas Aquinas, Rene
Descartes, and Karl Marx dominate the historical
landscape of her work. Instead of empirical evidence that the world has changed from one of action to one of labor, Arendt draws out the mentality
of a certain time period through the texts it left behind. She aims her historical argument, however,
at an analysis of the present. How important, then,
is historical analysis in The Human Condition to
the overall thrust of the text?
Seyla Benhabib argues that Arents historiographic methodology in The Origins of Totalitarianism is opposed to the idea that what happened had to happen.54 According to Benhabib,
Arendt views history as a somewhat dangerous
pursuit which sets a deterministic trap, robs the
current situation of its unique being, and denies
that the future is radically underdetermined. Benhabib cites areas in Totalitarianism where Arendt
describes her historiographic methodology as a

crystallization of elements that gives a historical
event a meaning absent from its original context. In
her history, Arendt is more concerned with institutions, ideas and large events than more empirical,
data-driven historical analysis. Benhabib connects
Arendts need for a new way of storytelling after
totalitarianism to Walter Benjamin. Benjamin and
Arendt both believed a new type of narrative was
needed to break the chain of continuity, to shatter
chronology as the natural structure of narrative, to
stress fragmentariness, historical dead ends, failures and ruptures.55
Arendts work on Totalitarianism provides
us with insight into the question, what was Arendts
imperative to describe the human condition in
terms of historical development? Why not describe
the human condition completely in the language of
phenomenology? The answer seems to be Arendts
relationship to German philosophersin particular
Martin Heideggerwhom she once greatly
admired, but who had not only failed to prevent
fascism, but had rolled over to its domination.
Like many of her contemporaries, Arendt needed a
philosophy that maintained its relevance after the
horror of the Nazi Holocaust. The philosophy she
found is one that rigorously modifies Heideggers
philosophy to apply directly to human life and
existence in the world.
In Arendts philosophy there is no fundamental
ground to being: the world and its web of stories is
the only plane of existence. However, the existence
one maintains and in many respects the quality of
the world depends on which mode of existence
man chooses within this world. But what role does
history have in the web of stories? How integral
is history to Arendts world? Arendts concept of
crystalline elements seems to suggest she saw
the act of writing history as a type of work that
reified history into an object in the world.
Arendts philosophy seems to be lacking,
however, in a method for dealing with something
like historical situation. Heidegger makes a distinction between the situation into which Da-sein
31
is thrown and the possibilities of that thrown situation that Da-sein takes up and chooses to project. Within its realm of possibilities, Da-sein can
choose to project authentically or not. In Arendts
writing, action and speech are modes of existence
that seem equivalent to Heideggers concept of
authenticity, whereas work and labor seem linked
to Heideggers inauthenticity. Da-sein in Being
and Time experiences the moment of Angst without choice or warning; it is only a choice to take
up the possibilities of that moment of Angst and
become authentic or inauthentic. Arendts philosophy is different. There is no moment of Angst. She
seems to suggest that the possibility of non-passivity, of action, is always present and waiting to
be seized upon.
However, history in Arendt seems to dictate how readily man chooses to seize upon the
possibility of action. The ancients took up the possibility of individuality much more readily than
we do now in the modern age. Arendt never says it
was easier to be an individual in the ancient world,
but more people chose to be so. Each historical
epoch had a mode of existence that appeared the
most obvious way of being at that time. The importance of history to her argument appears, then,
to be that history reveals to us the possibilities of
existence that are not obvious to us in our current
situation. This conclusion leads us to our next series of questions, what if her historical analysis is
incorrect? What if, for example, the ancient world
contained roughly the same proportion of slaves
as modern age contains laborers?
I maintain that it would not matter if her
historical argument could be proved wrong by
some empirical means. The historical basis of her
description of the human condition grounds her
project firmly in the lives of men, but the phenomenal distinctions of the human condition she outlines hold without her historical analysis. Arendts
historical analysis provides a suggestion for why
in a certain era in history a certain mode of existence dominated, and explores why that situation
may have seemed normal at the time.
32
The Human Condition and the Present Day

If my argument that Arendts description
of the human condition is relevant regardless of
the factual accuracy of her historical account, the
next question we must address is, half a century
after Arendt wrote The Human Condition, can the
text describe our situation in the present day? If
her description of the human condition and the vita
activa can stand without her historical argument,
her language should still be applicable to our current situation. Arendt predicted a transition from
the society of laborers to a society of job-holders,
which she saw as the only possibility more passive and de-individuating than a society of laborers. Her bleakest prediction is that the modern age
may end in the deadliest, most sterile passivity
history has ever known.56 She feared the takeover
of an extreme Archimedean viewpoint as Kafka
imagines in the epigraph Arendt selected for her
final chapter.57 This extreme Archimedean view,
which considers the human world from a remote
distance, imagines the world as a series of atoms
that appear free, but actually behave according to
statistical laws. Arendt maintained, however, that
even if this view were to become dominate, there
would still always be the possibility of action.
Thinking would be the most seriously challenged
of the human faculties.
Have we fallen so far yet? Have we
changed and taken on the possibilities of our radically undetermined future? The answer to both
questions is that some of us have, and some of
us have not. A more apt line of thinking might
consider how our current historical situation has
shifted and how these shifts have affected the human condition. Much of what has transpired in the
last 50 years has been a continuation of trends that
Arendt already identified: the world has continued to shrink, the accumulation of social wealth
has grown exponentially, and what Arendt called
mass culture has become so dominant that everything else is now called sub-culture. The empirical, behavior-based social sciences with their
extreme Archimedean viewpoint have continued
to dominate, and economists increasingly claim to
predict the future, as if it were an already deterDartmouth Philosophy Journal
mined and merely obscured from our vision. One

trend, however, stands out ast different from the
trajectory that concludes The Human Condition.
At the extreme Archimedean distance of the society of jobholders, we appear to have redefined our
bodies and our world.
Computers would likely rank high
on a list of responses to the question What has
changed the world in the last 50 years? Computers are just one part of a larger shift away from the
traditional human limitations of body and space.
Many people in developed nations engage in a significant proportion of their daily communications
through text instead of vocalization. The Internet
has become the most prominent public space in
the world, but one that is transversed only by electronic data instead of actual human bodies. The
last fifty years demarcate almost completely the
new field of scientific research popularly called
artificial intelligencea new field of research
devoted to creating human beings without human
bodies. As labor in The Human Condition was tied
to the conditions of the human body and its ceaseless cycles of production and consumption, the
society of job-holders is revealing a new mode
of existing within the human condition, one in
which the world and the body are remote.
This bodiless existence certainly seems
a bleak fate for democracy, but how much of an
active, polis-like public sphere relies on face-toface contact? Traditionally, we consider face-toface contact to be extremely important for creating common sense, and Arendt certainly imagined
her concepts of speech and action to be face-toface. However, as Diana Saco points out in her
book Cybering Democracy, Arendts connection
of the body to labor and passivity perhaps opens
up the bodiless space of the Internet as a superior
public sphere for action. In Democracy and (the)
Public(s), Samuel Chambers claims we should
view the Internet as a complex of social networks
and practices that link people in unprecedented
ways, producing new forms of politics along the
way.58 Chambers further argues that the Internet is a space for counter-publics and has the
potential to gather otherwise disparate voices of

dissent. In addition to the remoteness of bodies,
the Internet has forced cultural confrontation in
an unprecedented fashion. Nancy Fraser sees this
increased cosmopolitanism allowed by increased
technology as one of the strongest anti-totalitarian
forces in the 21st century. Fraser predicts the 21st
century will be characterized by
the effort to replace the Westphalian idea of sovereignty, undivided, territorially bounded, and statecenteredbut now being destabilized by globalization, by new forms of shared political responsibility,
which are trans-territorial and multi-leveled.59
However, while not totally condemning these

rosier views of the possibilities of cyberspace, I
am inclined to agree with the darker predictions of
philosophers like Hubert Dreyfus. Throughout his
career, Dreyfus has argued against the possibility
of artificial intelligence largely on the grounds that
without a body subjected to the human conditions
of natality, mortality, and being-together-with-others a machine cannot have the requisite knowledge
for understanding.60 In his arguments Dreyfus
leans specifically on Kierkegaard, Husserl, Heidegger, and Merleau-Ponty, but overlooks Arendt,
whose work I think is particularly applicable to the
questions of remoteness and cyberspace.
Dreyfus argues that the organization of
hyperlinked information on the internet creates a
world without relevance or meaning. Unlike previous top-down information hierarchies, hyperlinks
are inter-related and their relationships not explicitly clear. No one hyperlink is privileged over any
other. This is radically different from the embodied
human world. Dreyfus uses Heideggers argument
that as humans we see objects in the world differently depending on the relevance of that object
to our context and situation. Dreyfus argues, the
world is not a meaningless collection of billions of
facts. Rather, it is a field of significance organized
by and for beings like us with our bodies, desires,
interests and purposes.61
In On the Internet, Dreyfus uses the ex33
ample of distance teaching to show the failure of

being-together over the internet, no matter how
remarkably life-like the simulated interaction is.
Dreyfus points to two essential parts of being-together that are lost in remoteness. One essential
part of being together is similar to Heideggers
concept of mood. According to Dreyfus, in any
social situation including a classroom, the mood
is an essential part of the context, and without a
sense of the mood, we are not able to distinguish
the important from the unimportant, and thus, relevance and meaning slip away.62 The second essential characteristic that Dreyfus claims cyberteaching lacks is risk. Though we tend to think
of risk as an unwanted attribute, Dreyfus claims
without an element of risk in situations we lack the
amount of care that we do in situations with risk.63
Without an element of risk, our active engagement
in the world decreases. Dreyfus argues that the
anonymity of the Internet allowed all interactions
to be risk-free and thus without commitment, consequences, or loss.64
Both of these elements Dreyfus examines
seem to support Arendts prediction and fear that
the twentieth century was to usher in an age of
passivity. Though Arendt rarely talks about the
place of the body in the public sphere, her argument appears to rely on a shared bodily space.
Though she argues that the in-between of the
web of human interactions is no less real than the
world of things we visibly have in common, she
follows that the web is no less bound to the objective world of things than speech is to the existence
of a living bodyto dispense with thiswould
mean to transform men into something they are
not.65 Though the web Arendt speaks of is largely
a web of minds, she ties that shared web closely to
the body. Later, when she addresses introspection,
she argues that separated from the shared world of
sensation, humans begin to lose their worldliness.
Arendt claims:
Here the old definition of man as animal rationale
acquired terrible precision: deprived of the sense
through which mans five animal sense are fitted
into a world common to all men, human beings are
34
indeed no more than animals who are able to reason,

to reckon with consequences66
This passage speaks of a sentiment similar to

Dreyfuss regarding the organizational structure
of information needed to create consensus reality.
Our common recognition, not just of each other,
but of all sense organs in common seems to be
necessary to create a durable shared world.
The lack of risk and predominance of anonymity in the public sphere of the Internet seems
particularly dangerous to the possibilities of action
and speech as outlined by Arendt. The risk of actions and the commitment to identity are essential
to the stability of the shared world. For Arendt,
the possibilities of action and individuality rely
on a balance between promises and forgiveness.
As action for Arendt is inherently unpredictable,
without forgiveness we would be confined forever
to suffer the results of a single action. Equally,
without promises we would never be able to keep
our identities; we would be condemned to wander
helplessly and without direction in the darkness of
each mans lonely heart, caught in its contradictions and equivocalities.67 Promises are the glue
of the human world in the face of a radically unpredictable future. In order for the web of human
interactions to continue after promises are violated,
the consequences are either forgiven or punished.
Arendt sees actions outside the realm of
punishment and forgiveness as a terrible threat to
the human world. Arendt borrows Kants term radical evil to describe offenses outside the scope of
forgiveness and punishment. She describes these
crimes as somewhat mysteriouslittle known to
the human world and little understood even by
those, like Arendt herself, who have experienced
them. Her connection between these occurrences
and the end of human action and individuality
are clear; in her words these deeds transcend the
realm of human affairs and the potentialities of human power, both of which they radically destroy
wherever they make their appearance.68 While
Arendt would probably not consider interaction
on the Internet to be anything quite so extreme as
radical evil, I believe it is clear she would have
thought that such communications were threatening to the real of human affairs and potentialities of
human power. Furthermore, our collective acceptance of the Internet as our form of public sphere speaks
to Arendts prediction that we were entering an age of great passivity. Perhaps our willing acceptance of
cyberspace communications is a sign that we have already accepted the passivity Arendt warned of ordinary and everyday.
Jessica Spradling graduated in 2006 with a major in English and a minor in German Studies. She lives
in New York and works as a literary agent.
Notes
1

2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
Hannah Arendt. The Human Condition, Second Edition. Chicago, University of Chicago Press,
1958, 7.
Ibid, 73.
Ibid, 24.
Ibid, 49.
Ibid, 50.
Ibid, 43..
Ibid, 46.
Ibid, 61.
Ibid, 69.
Ibid, 80.
Ibid, 94
Ibid, 83.
Ibid, 85.
Ibid, 130.
Ibid, 115.
Ibid, 120
Ibid, 117.
Ibid, 94.
Ibid, 96.
Ibid, 154
Ibid, 163.
Ibid, 164.
Ibid, 165.
Ibid, 176.
Ibid, 192.
Ibid, 179.
Ibid, 181.
Ibid, 181.
Ibid, 201.
Ibid, 209.
Ibid, 199.
Ibid, 220.
Ibid, 221.
35
34
Ibid, 215.
35
Ibid, 232.
36
Ibid, 241.
37
Ibid, 248.
38
Ibid, 251.
39
Ibid, 248.
40
Ibid, 253.
41
Ibid, 256.
42
Ibid, 258.
43
Ibid, 263.
44
Ibid, 275.
45
Ibid, 280.
46
Ibid, 280.
47
Ibid, 288.
48
Ibid, 289.
49
Ibid, 294.
50
Ibid, 307.
51
Ibid, 320.
52
Ibid, 322.
53
Ibid, 322.
54
Benhabib, Seyla. The Reluctant Modernism of Hannah Arendt. Lanham, MD: Rowan &

Littlefield, 2003, 64.
55
Benhabib, 88.
56
Arendt, 322
57 He found the Archimedean point, but he used it against himself; it seems that he was

permitted to find it only under this conditionFranz Kafka.
58
SamuelChambers, Democracy and (the) Public(s). Political Theory Volume X, Issue

2005,135.
59
Frazer, 255
60
See Mind Over Machine, On the Internet, and What Computers Still Cant Do.
61
Hubert Dreyfus, On the Internet. New York, Routledge, 2001, 26.
62
Ibid, 61.
63
Ibid, 55.
64
Ibid,81.
65
Hannah Arendt. The Human Condition, Second Edition. Chicago, University of Chicago Press,

1958,, 183.
66
Ibid, 234
67
Ibid, 237.
68
Ibid, 241.
36
Descartes: On the Existence of God

Jenny Strakovsky
escartes offers two separate proofs of the

existence of God in his Meditations, both
of which focus on the transition from the
mere idea of God to a God existing in independent
reality. Descartes stronger argument, explained in
the third meditation, is grounded in his theory of
the origin of ideas, and shows that his idea of God
could not have come from within himself. However, if one examines more closely the nature of
ideas and takes into account the faculty of mental
creativity, unmentioned in the Meditations, one
can see that it is possible to create the idea of a
perfect being within ones own mind.
Descartes spends a great deal of his third meditation discussing the nature of ideas, as some of his
most vital premises rest on the necessary causes of
an idea. Now as far as ideas are concerned, provided they are considered solely in themselves and
[one does] not refer them to anything else, they
cannot strictly speaking be false; whether it is a
goat or a chimera that [one] is imagining.1 One
can make a false claim only in the judgment about
the external reality of an idea, and this is the trap
that Descartes must avoid in showing that the idea
of God is based on a substance outside the mind.
In order to see which ideas could originate within
himself, and which must come from elsewhere,
Descartes considers the conditions for the origin
of any substance, declaring that there must be at
least enough reality in the efficient and total cause
as in the effect of that cause.2 Heat, for instance,
cannot become part of the properties of an object
unless it is transferred there by some other object
which has at least the same order of perfection as
heat.3 Similarly, an ideas objective reality, since
it is not nothing, must come from a cause which
either formally or eminently has the properties or
contents of the idea.
Most ideas that Descartes considers can be

traced to an origin within the mind itself; animals, for example, can be described using ideas
such as number, duration, and extension, concepts
which can also describe ones own mind, and thus
could originate within it. However, the idea of
God describes something infinite, everlasting, and
omniscient. These qualities are clearly not present
in a human mind, which is finite and imperfect;
thus the ideas of them cannot come from within
one. It is logical to agree that what is more perfectcannot arise from what is less perfect
because something cannot come from nothing.4
Thus, Descartes concludes, our idea of an infinite
substance must come from outside ourselves; that
is, from a real infinite substance.
Descartes argument can be summed up
with a chain of three premises. Firstly, the mind
has a clear and distinct idea of a substance that
is infinite, <eternal, immutable,> independent,
supremely intelligent, supremely powerful, and
which created both [the said mind] and everything
else.5 Secondly, this idea must come either from
within the mind itself or from a substance outside
the mind because something cannot arise out of
nothing. Thirdly, minds cannot be the basis for
the idea of an infinite substance because they are
finitely intelligent and powerful. Thus, an infinite
being must be the cause of this idea in the mind,
and must exist external to the mind. If any of these
premises is shown to be illogical or inaccurate,
Descartes argument will not be able to show that
an infinite being exists outside of the mind itself.
Assuming that the first premise is true, that
we do have a clear and distinct idea of a supreme
being with all of the aforementioned qualities, it is
still questionable whether this idea cannot come
from within ourselves. It is necessary to examine
37
the nature of the idea, as Descartes himself does,

to be sure that it requires the causes that he assigns
to it. We will now assume that our ideas of the
material world, that is, of light, heat, animals, and
the landscape, come from within our own mind.
As Descartes notes, Such ideas [as heat and light]
do not require me to posit a source distinct from
myselfWith regard to the clear and distinct elements in my ideas of corporeal things, it appears
that I could have borrowed some of these from my
idea of myself.6
It is known that in the case of physical objects,
in order for one object to receive the property of
another, the giver must have as much or more of
the property than the receiver. In the case of the
transfer of heat, for instance, between an amount
of boiling water and a spoon submerged inside the
liquid, the temperature of the water will decrease
as the heat moves from it to the spoon, and the
temperature of the spoon will increase until the
two are of equal temperature. In other words,
the water initially contains more of the property
of heat than the spoon, but, though it gives some
heat away, it can never become colder than the
spoon. The total amount of heat remains the same
because energy cannot be created or destroyed,
but only transferred from one object to another.
The law of conservation of energy and matter
tells us that, outside perhaps quantum mechanics,
this holds true for all matter in the universe. We
can see immediately why this causal sufficiency
principle may not be necessarily true in the case
of ideas, as they are contained within the mind,
which, according to Descartes, is a non-corporeal
substance. Consequently, they are not subject to
the precise laws that govern matter. An idea of a
perfect house, for example, does not require that a
perfect house exist. Similarly, the idea of a perfect
being does not necessarily require that a perfect
being exist.
This is not to say that ideas need no cause
whatsoever in order to exist in our mind. There
may, for instance, be colors other than those
between red and violet, but it is impossible for
the mind to have an idea of what these colors
38
look like, because the human eye cannot see frequencies higher or lower than the range in which
the rainbow is contained, and consequently, cannot perceive the colors. However, although the
mind can never see the colors, it can still have
the concept of the potential existence of such
colors. Using inference, the mind can reason that
although it cannot perceive any colors outside the
rainbow, frequencies of light above and below the
given range exist, and more acute perceptive abilities would logically allow a visual representation
of these frequencies to appear to the mind. Thus,
the mind can have an idea of a color of ultraviolet
light, without ever being able to perceive the light
itself. Again, it must be noted that the concept of
ultraviolet color is not causeless, but, rather, has
its roots in the concepts of existing colors, and that
the idea formed by the mind of a more advanced
color is done by extrapolating the existing ideas;
it is a combination of the ideas of color and the
continuity of possible frequencies of light.
Furthermore, even if physics told us that no
light frequencies continued beyond our scope of
vision, we may still be able to have an idea of
ultraviolet color. Descartes, though accepting of
the minds ability to invent ideas such as winged
horses, does not account for the breadth of the
faculty involved in this process: mental creativity.
This faculty allows the mind to take elements from
different ideas and infer the result of their combination. While it is possible that we would simply
accept as true that light cannot have a higher frequency than we can see, it is much more likely that
we would have the mental creativity to think about
the possibility of a higher-frequency light, as one
might imagine flying without a machine. Conceiving of a higher frequency of light in congruence
with our existing concept of light, the mind would
probably infer that this hypothetical light would
also have a color. Thus, it is enough for us to have
a concept of light and of color in order to have
an idea of the color of ultraviolet light. We can
therefore see that it is only necessary for the basic
elements of an idea to be individually grounded in
something objectively true in order for the mind to
use its creativity to generate a distinct but possibly
untrue idea.
Thus, Descartes second premise, that the
cause of an idea must formally or objectively contain the properties exhibited in the idea, is weakened. All of the elements of the properties of an
idea must have a cause containing equal or greater
degrees of the same elements, but the properties
themselves can be arranged, extrapolated, and
organized within the mind. Now, in order to determine the cause of the idea of God, it is necessary to
examine the elements of Gods properties. Every
element must be shown to either originate within
the mind itself, as does arithmetic, or within the
material world, which we are currently assuming
also resides within the mind. If any element can
be found in neither cause, we will know that the
mind cannot be its cause, it will necessarily follow that [the mind is] not alone in the world, but
that some other thing which is the cause of the idea
also exists.7 This may still not necessarily mean
that God exists, but it will show that not all parts
of the idea of God come from within the mind.
As Descartes defines God, He is a substance
that is infinite, <eternal, immutable,> independent, supremely intelligent, supremely powerful,
and which created both myself and everything
elsethat exists.8 First, let us consider the simplest property, that God is the creator. It is easy to
see that our concept of one independent substance
creating another comes from the constant acts of
creation that we perceive in our interactions with
the material world. We clearly and distinctly understand how materials can be used to build a house
or a clock, and, similarly, know how reproduction
occurs to generate more independent living things.
It is logical for us to believe that a perfect being
should have the capacity to do these things at a
level of advancement that is beyond our capacity.
Similarly, the property of independence is easy to
understand because the mind, conceiving of itself
as distinct and requiring no other substance in
order to exist, is itself independent. Likewise, the
idea of eternity stems from the idea of time, which
is, simply put, the continuation of general existence. Because the mind has never experienced the
transition from existence to non-existence, it cannot conceive of the end of time. Because one can
conceive of life as temporary independent existence in time, it is logical for the idea of a perfect
being to contain the idea of life during the entirety
of time. The analogous property of immutability
is also simply the negation of the idea of change,
which is fundamental to our concepts about the
material world.
The properties of supreme intelligence and
supreme power can likewise be found within the
mind. The idea of intelligence, of the ability to
process and think about information, is, like mental creativity, a defining faculty of the mind. However, it must be admitted that in this human life
we are often liable to make mistakes about particular things,9 demonstrating the imperfection of
our intelligence. Similarly, in the case of power,
our ideas of dependence and independence allow
us to imagine the idea of one substance exerting
a force on a dependent object to cause a certain
change. We can also imagine the dependent object
having some faculty of power to resist, giving us
the idea of partial or ordinary power. The idea of
the supreme level of both intelligence and power is
simply created from the extrapolation of ordinary
versions of these properties, giving us a perception of a being that has perfect mental and physical
faculties.
At this point, all the properties that were
assigned to God have been shown to come from
within the mind, except for infinity. We know that
the infinite is the opposite of the finite, but it is not
clear which idea is prior to the other, and thus we
cannot simply explain the infinite by negating the
finite. In understanding the finite, one understands
a substance that has a defined and limited size, such
as a book with distinct dimensions. However, it is
one thing to have the idea of distinct objects, but
quite another to assign them the property of being
limited. In order to have the idea of a limit, one
must have the idea of being limitless, as a limit
is simply an obstacle which prevents continuity,
making the idea of continuity prior to that of an
obstacle.
39
However, one can also approach the idea

of infinity through mathematics. I have various thoughts that I can count, and the process
of counting gives the mind the idea of a number
line.10 Although one can only hold so many numbers before the minds eye at a time, extrapolation
allows the mind to have the idea of an infinite continuity of numbers that, by its very nature, cannot
be limited. Because of mental creativity, the mind
can combine this idea of an infinite continuation
with the idea of a distinct number of thoughts to
produce the final idea of a mind with an infinite
number of thoughts. However, as Descartes points
out, though it is true thatI have many potentialities which are not yet actual,I recognize that
[they] will never actually be infiniteGod, on the
other hand, I take to be actually infinite, so that
nothing can be added to his perfection.11 While
the mind can conceive of a constant increase of
knowledge, it is difficult to conceive of the end of
the increase, at which point nothing more can be
added. In this situation, as with ultraviolet color,
the mind cannot perceive of what infinity would
look like when actualized, but by using its faculty
of the combination of ideas, it can understand what

it would mean to contain enough within oneself
to be actually infinite. According to Descartes, it
does not matter that I do not grasp the infinitefor
it is in the nature of the infinite not to be grasped
by a finite being like myself. It is enough that I
understand the infinite.12 Thus, through the aid
of mental creativity, it is possible for the mind to
extrapolate the ideas of numbers, thoughts, and
the potentially infinite, creating the concept of the
actually infinite, without the existence of an actually infinite being in reality.
By combining the idea of the actually infinite
with the ideas of the eternal, supremely intelligent,
and omnipotent, one can create the concept of a
perfect being within ones mind. Because of the
creativity of the mind, it is possible to combine
elements of various ideas and create completely
new and more advanced ideas out of less perfect
concepts. Thus, although Descartes has a clear and
distinct idea of an infinite being more perfect than
himself, it is not necessarily true that such a being
must exist outside his own mind.
Jenny Strakovsky is a sophomore at Dartmouth College pursuing a major in German Studies. She is
interested in ethics, the history of philosophy, as well as the specific philosophies of Kant and Leibniz.
Notes
1

2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
40
Ren Descartes. The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, Volume II, Translated from the French
by John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, and Dugald Murdoch. New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1984, 26.
Ibid., 28.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid., 30.
Ibid.
Ibid., 29.
Ibid., 31.
Ibid., 62.
Ibid., 30.
Ibid., 47.
Ibid.
An Appeal for Induction

Lizzy Asher
Consider the following inductive argument: The sun has risen every day for the last 4.6
billion years. Thus the sun will rise tomorrow.
Now consider another, similar inductive argument: The sun has risen every day for the last 4.6
billion years. Thus, the sun will not rise tomorrow.
David Hume suggests that we accept the first conclusion but do not accept the second because the
second conclusion seems odd, not because it is any
less logical. According to Hume, the premise, or
evidence, supports both conclusions equally, and
our preference for the first argument is arbitrary.
Any attempt to demonstrate inductive inferences
in terms of logical steps proves viciously circular.
He concludes, therefore, that we cannot justify our
inductive inferences.
In this paper I will discuss Humes approach
to the problem of induction and show that he holds
inductive knowledge to unreasonable standards
of certainty. Hume was right to say we cannot
justify induction in a certain sense, but he was
wrong to assume that his standard of justification
was the correct one for knowledge, especially
scientific knowledge. In fact, the contrast between
the certainty of demonstrable and inductive
knowledge is more vague than Hume suggests,
and as illustrated by Lewis Carroll, deductive
reasoning probably cannot meet the Humes
standards of justification either. I will demonstrate
that the connections between inductive premises
and conclusions result from more than habit. We
form general ideas by abstracting from particular
impressions. We then conclude predictions based
on those general ideas, and these predictions often
confirm our general ideas. Finally, I present Nelson
Goodmans revised version of induction to show
that my explanation fits with the new problem of
induction as well.
Hume immediately divides all of human

knowledge into two categories: relations of ideas
and matters of fact.1 In the first category, he
lumps the disciplines of mathematics and logic, in
the second, the bulk of human knowledge, gained
only through experience. He believes that some
knowledge is both intuitive and provable, while in
order to ascertain the truth about matters of fact,
we must use our senses because these matters of
fact neither follow logically from other facts nor
are they glaringly illogical. Hume writes, that the
sun will not rise tomorrow is no less intelligible
a proposition, and implies no more contradiction,
than the affirmation that it will rise.2 Hume argues
that when we appeal to our senses, we cannot be
sure of our predictions; anytime we extrapolate
into the future, we do so without justification. Past
events do not count as evidence; they offer no support for the claim that the past will resemble the
future because past events can only verify the connection between past events and other past events,
not past and future or past and present events.
Consequently, he questions experience as grounds
for making conjectures:
Past experiencecan be allowed to give direct
and certain information of those precise objects only, and
that precise period of time, which fell under its cognizance:
but why this experience should be extended to future times
and to other objects, which for aught we know, may be only
in appearance similar; this is the main question on which I
would insist.3
Hume makes an important point. Experience is limited to the past. Thus, knowledge about
the future cannot be deductively valid because we
must assume that the past will resemble the future.
Yet it seems we can acquire limited factual knowledge without appealing to induction. In thinking,
I exist I can prove my existence without even
41
requiring that any of the information gathered by

my senses is correct. Furthermore, we are certain
about particular knowledge like, my car is red,
using only our senses. Even the general statement,
at least ten samples are red makes a general
claim that requires no induction. The single division between matters of fact and relations of ideas
suggests that all matters of fact appeal to induction, but clearly this is not the case.
Regardless of whether or not we can
always rationalize induction, we attribute many
of the correct decisions we make through inductive inferences to cause and effect. The principle
of constancy underlies the relation of cause and
effect; it suggests that unless there is a cause of a
change there will be no change. Thus we presuppose the principle of constancy: things only change
for a reason; we think we can control for variation by investigating a particular situation carefully enough. Hume assumes that the link between
cause and effect is not necessary, and therefore is
arbitrary. Hume concludes, Every effect is a distinct event from its cause. It could not therefore,
be discovered in the cause, and the first invention
or conception of it, a priori, must be entirely arbitrary.4
Given only random connections, Hume
points out that we could not have predicted the outcome of events prior to observing the result. He
notes that we seem unable to explain what makes a
fact true unless we rely on other facts for evidence.
Our notion of inductive arguments as relating to
cause and effect, therefore, is mistaken. He writes,
If you were to ask a man, why he believes any
matter of facthe would give you a reason; and
this reason would be some other fact.5 Hume reasons that all our arguments eventually terminate in
some penultimate fact we cannot explain. However, that does not mean that our beliefs are not
justified. We feel no need to give reasons explaining certain facts, for example, like, my car is
red. If prompted, we would say, just look at my
car, obviously its red. The self-evident statement, my car is red, questions to what extent we
need justify our knowledge. This knowledge claim
42
also rests on an assumption about causation; the

objects in the world affect my senses in a particular way. If we accept Humes view of the relation
between cause and effect, then we too must attribute everything we know and every correct decision we make about the empirical world to luck.
If Hume is right, then luck proves essential
to our survival. For instance, babies will not crawl
off the edge of a porch prior to any mishap. If the
connection between the cause, crawling off the
porch, and effect, serious injury, were unrelated
prior to personal experience, then babies have no
reason to steer clear of the edge. Thus, causal connections seem to lie between pure a priori knowledge of Cartesian propositions and random associations.
Hume complains that all attempts to justify induction via rules of deductive validity fail.
To justify induction we must appeal to the premise that the past resembles the future; this premise occurs in every inductive argument, including arguments for induction. We must assume the
very premise we are trying to justify, ending in
viciously circular logic. However, our inability to
square inductive arguments with rules of deductive validity might not prove as serious a problem
as Hume suggests. If deductively valid arguments
cannot be justified in the sense Hume wants, then
perhaps Hume asks for too high a criterion for the
justification of our beliefs.
Lewis Carroll doubts that the conclusions
we arrive at using deductive reasoning are as justified as Hume supposes. In the example of Achilles and the tortoise, he shows that although often
inclined, we have no obligation to accept the conclusion based on the premises. Given the premises
A, things that are equal to the same are equal to
each other and B, the two sides of this triangle
are equal to the same then tortoise concludes
that Z, the two sides of this triangle are equal
to each other must be true (2, Carroll). Carroll
rightly asserts that we do not have to accept Z as
true because in order to accept Z as true we must
assume another premise, Cnamely if A and B
are true, then Z must be true.6 Even if we accept

premise C, we do not have to accept that Z is true
before we accept that A, B, and C are true. He dubs
this premise D, and the same process continues.
So in order to reach a deductive conclusion, we
must accept an infinite number of premises. Carrolls example illustrates that deductive reasoning
contains leaps of logic and is not one hundred percent certain. Hume grapples with the uncertainty
of inductive arguments, but he seems to demand
the impossible of inductive inferences since even
deductively valid conclusions with true premises
are not entirely certain. We resolve this paradox by
noting that reasoning does not just consist in terms
of premises or axioms, but also of valid rules. But
to show that these rules are truth preserving, we
must again presuppose a system or meta-language
with those very same rules. It would seem then
that on Humes view, deductive reasoning cannot
be justified either! Instead of rejecting both deductive and inductive reasoning, I conclude we must
reject Humes criterion of justification.
Inductive arguments are often true on any
evaluation. Induction is not always based on fallacy, as Hume would have us believe. We can
prove that induction works for the set of all natural
numbers in mathematics: if the natural numbers
are at the intersection of all inductive sets, then
we prove that induction works for all natural numbers because every member of the set of natural
numbers is also a member of every other inductive set. That is, if x is a natural number, and x is a
member of an inductive set, then x+1 is a member
of that set as well. The set of natural numbers conforms perfectly to the principle of constancy. Five
never suddenly becomes four, unless we multiply
it, divide it, subtract from it, or add to it another
number. Thus, mathematical induction is deductively valid, and as justified as the rest of deductive reasoning.
We encounter problems when using induction and matters of fact in science because we
cannot find the perfect sample set. Even if we
could arrange our observation in a series of O1,
O2, O3we would still have to show that for all
n if On verifies hypothesis h, then so does On+1.

Without a perfect sample set we can have no guarantee that our sample permits such a projection,
although we can strive to improve said sample set.
We do this by abstraction and controlling for factors that might make the sample set non-homogeneous. For example, inspecting millions of cells
under a microscope and identifying common traits
informs our abstract idea of a cell. By collecting samples, averaging data and running experiments we modify our abstract idea to behave like
a perfect sample set because we know that given a
perfect sample, induction is deductively valid. We
need here again to appeal, however, to the principle of constancy. But even if this the principle of
constancy principle does not follow logically from
our experience, the alternative, random variation
has little evidence or no evidence to support it. We
should adopt a standard of justification that allows
the principle of constancy to be justified.
Despite the many concerns Hume raises,
twentieth century philosopher Nelson Goodman
dissolves Humes inquiry by restating the problem: The problem of induction is not a problem of demonstration but a problem of defining
the difference between valid and invalid predictions.7 Rather than justify a particular inductive
conclusion, Goodman suggests that the focus rest
on providing a framework for judging inductive
arguments that is similar to the one that exists for
judging the validity of deductive arguments. To
predict if an inductive argument is sound a priori,
we need ensure that the argument follows a valid
structure. If inductive arguments had to conform
to a certain logical rules, then we could judge if a
conclusion was valid or invalid a priori.
Hume seeks to rationalize induction in
terms of cause and effect and fails. In response,
Goodman presents a new theory about the relation between pieces of evidence in inductive arguments: just as deductive logic is concerned primarily with a relationthat is independent of their
truth or falsity, so inductive logic is concerned primarily with a comparable relation of confirmation
[to a degree] between statements.8 Thus, Good43
man leads us to believe that the relation between

premise and conclusion does not reduce to random
habit. In inductive arguments, supporting facts
show that a general statement is a contingently
true in particular circumstances. So each of the 4.6
billion times the sun has risen constitute particular
events that support the generalization that the sun
rises every morning. From this generalization, it
follows that the sun will rise tomorrow morning as
well. Making this generalization requires abstraction.
After solving the original problem of
induction, Goodman presents the grue problem,
a profoundly more confusing version of Humes
original puzzle. Imagine a predicate grue defined
as green before time t and blue after time t. If we
examine millions of blades of grass, we conclude
that the next blade of grass we see is both grue and
green before time t; at time t, however, the grass
proves still green, but no longer grue. No matter
how much supporting evidence we amass prior to
time t our inductive reasoning fails us. The grue
problem casts doubts on every inductive inference
because, despite infinite supporting evidence, we
cannot be sure that our prediction is good.
Goodman anticipates various attacks
against his skepticism. One argument that attempts
to render the grue problem irrelevant suggests that
predicates like green are entrenched in language, but Goodman explains that this phenome-
non is only due to habit.9 Grue is a time sensitive

predicate, some philosophers object. Yet we can
define green in terms of grue and bleen, so it is not
important which words are time-sensitive.
Two remaining objections suggest that
Goodmans puzzle problem may be irrelevant.
Grue is a natural kind predicate: it describes what
we perceive and not a contrived definition. Natural
kind terms exemplify the principle of constancy.
Reasons exist for change when dealing with natural kind terms. For instance, if I perceive green,
I will not suddenly perceive the same object as
blue unless a colored light tricks my eyes or I hallucinate. Either way, there exists a reason for my
changed perception. Secondly, abstraction of particular impressions is difficult, but it is impossible
to abstract an idea of grue because the definition
of grue entails a particular time, time t. We cannot
conceive of grue not in relation to the particular
time t. The grue predicate flagrantly breaks the
principle of constancy because at time t because
the predicate changes meaning without any apparent reason. Accordingly, we make false predictions, even given unlimited past evidence. We
cannot rationalize induction without conceiving of
general ideas. Finally, the principle of constancy
cannot be justified in the way Hume wants, but it
does not need to be. It is validated by the whole of
our scientific practice and needs no other justification. To ask for justification in Humes sense is
itself unjustified.
Lizzy Asher is a sophomore at Dartmouth College and recently decided to become a philosophy major.
She enjoys writing, rock-climbing, skiing, and traveling.
44
Notes
1

2
3
4
5
6
7

8
9
Hume, David. An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding. Ed. Tom L. Beauchamp. Oxford:
Oxford UP Inc., 1999. 108.
Ibid, 108.
Ibid, 114.
Ibid, 111.
Ibid, 109.
Carroll, Lewis. What the Tortoise Said to Achilles. Mind ns 4, 1985, 278.
Goodman, Nelson. Fact, Fiction, and Forecast. 3rd ed. New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc.,
1973, 65.
Ibid, 67.
Ibid, 94.
45
Intentionally Weak:
The Case for Weakness of Will
Andrew K. Fletcher
espite its common usage, both colloquially and in philosophical writing, there is
great debate over whether or not weakness of will even exists. Some authors contend
that akrasia, the Greek term referring to what we
might now consider incontinence or the ability to
act against ones better judgment, is impossible.
Such scholars maintain that our decisions are forever guided by our best judgment. Others seek to
describe weak willed actions not as freely chosen
options, but as compulsive acts of an alien motivation. However, it seems to me that neither of
these accounts sufficiently describes weakness of
will, nor hold weight as a skeptical response to its
presence as an aspect of human nature. Because
akratic action is a realistic possibility, and compulsive action is, in all relevant cases, actually controlled by the agent, I argue that weakness of will
is a certain possibility. Furthermore, I will provide
a plausible account of the defining characteristics
of weakness of will, and practical guidelines with
which one can correctly use the term.
Because weakness of will seems closely
related to the possibility that an agent can act
against her better judgment, it is necessary to first
explore the concept of akrasia. While often used
as a linguistic synonym for weak will, I do not
see the terms as equivalent. If akrasia is regarded
as a strict impossibility, however, the argument
supporting the weakness of will loses force and
credibility. Therefore, it is important to provide an
argument for the existence of akrasia in order to
establish the foundation for weakness of will.
Skepticism regarding akrasia is certainly
not a novel position. One of the famous rebuttals to
the belief that an agent could knowing act against
his best judgment was provided by Socrates in
Meno and Protagoras. In what is now referred to
46
as the Socratic Paradox, Socrates argues that

humans never act against their best judgment,
but rather are susceptible to miscalculations and
limited understanding. As a result, we only misinterpret what, in fact, is the optimal decision for
a given situation. In essence, Socrates relies on
what Gary Watson refers to as a kind of evaluative illusion in which the nearer, more immediate good looks the greater.1 This account seems
intuitively plausible, and is a very commonly held
position. It appears odd to many to conceive of a
rational human being ever choosing to act against
their best judgment, unless they were ignorant of
some relevant information. However, this claim is
not obvious at all, as further analysis uncovers a
host of human action that provide evidence to the
contrary. Urges and desires often appear inconsistent with our best judgment; the happily married man who kisses another woman, the girl who
eats a piece of cake while on a diet, the pitcher
who punches a wall after a poor performance in
a game. It is true that in each case the agent is
responsible for their actions, but it does not seem
that the agent is acting in their best interest in any
of the aforementioned examples. The happily married man knows his decision will be detrimental
to his relationship, the girl understands the cake
is unhealthy and will sabotage her efforts, and the
pitcher is aware of the fact that a broken hand will
make him unable to perform. At no point did these
individuals believe their respective choices were
in their best interests, or in any way beneficial to
their goals and objectives, yet each acted as they
did regardless. While some argue that the definition of best interest can be sufficiently manipulated to fit any action, this also seems implausible.
While the pitcher may have fulfilled a desire to
hit something, the fulfillment of such a craving
is clearly not in his best judgment. We describe
someone who acts in such a way as having let
their desires get the better of them, for it is clear

that rationality has been overtaken by desire.
Therefore, it must be that certain desires are, as
Watson contends, strong enough to motivate one
contrary to ones judgment of what is best.2 If this
is the case, then action based on desire alone is a
clear example of choosing against ones best judgment, and akrasia must be a realistic component of
human action.
However, some philosophers skeptical about
weakness of will attempt to sidestep this conclusion
by presenting what Arthur Walker describes as
enslavement arguments.3 This position holds that
akratic action cannot be considered voluntary, as
it is performed out of desire but without reason
and as a result, resembles a type of unintentional
compulsion.4 Among other philosophers, Watson
accepts the compulsion argument, positing that
the weak-willed individual is not merely
refusing to exercise judgment or self-control, but
is actually the victim of irresistible desires.5
Watson illustrates his position using the example
of an individual addicted to a narcotic.6 For
Watson, the addict is not expressing a weakness
of will with her inability to refuse the substance,
but rather is unable to refuse; the addict has an
unconquerable craving for the drug.7 However,
I believe Watson surrenders too much in his
definition of compulsion. He supports his addict
case with another example, in which a starving
woman is compelled to outlandish acts in order
to receive nourishment.8 Yet these two examples
do not appear parallel, and seem to uncover
precisely the problem in Watsons initial claim.
With the exception of those who take the act to
excess, it seems odd and incorrect to consider an
individual as being addicted to eating. It is not that
the woman in the example eats compulsively, or
cannot stop eating, but rather that she legitimately
requires sustenance or she will perish. In this
case, I believe Watson has grounds to conclude
that she is compelled to perform certain actions to
quell her hunger. Biologically speaking, humans
seem obligated to self preservation; if there is an
opportunity to save her own life, the lady will be
compelled to act in whatever way necessary.
This notion of compulsion, however, does

not translate to the case of the addict. Certainly it
would be difficult for the addict to simply refuse
drugs all together, as this is exactly what we mean
when we say someone is addicted. Yet quitting is
also clearly not impossible. Addiction is a state of
perceived necessity, in that the addict believes that
she requires the consumption of drugs to survive.
Nonetheless, it is obvious that this is simply not
the case. Addictions and compulsions are cured
everyday: alcoholics stop drinking, smokers stop
smoking, and compulsive personalities conquer
fears and phobias. This is not to say that there
are not particular cases in which an individuals
psychology actually prevents her from curbing
her compulsion, but for Watson to assert that a
compulsion is irresistible for normal human
beings appears far too broad a stroke. If this were
the case, there would be no possibility for these
actions to ever cease. How could the smoker quit if
he was literally unable to? Watson tries to solve
this dilemma by arguing that the addicts motivation
is an alien force that runs contrary to her actual
desire to quit, hence leaving her in no position
to control it.9 I would contend, however, that the
addict is not simply a disapproving bystander in
her compulsion. While part of her understands and
knows the addiction is harmful, there still must be
some desire to continue the habit. It may simply
be that that there are no positive, counteractive
reasons with enough force to convince her to
change, but even this possibility is enough to
bring Watsons claim into serious question. There
are numerous examples of an addict that is simply
lacking a motivating reason to overcome her drug
habit, and therefore feels compelled to continue.
When my father smoked cigarettes, it was clear
he was addicted and in a way, felt compelled
to continue. Furthermore, his own health was
obviously not a serious enough reason for him to
discontinue smoking. However, when my mother
became pregnant, he quit immediately. It appears
that while my father may have felt compelled to
smoke, possibly despite his desire to quit, he was
not unable to resist cigarettes. It was simply
that his desire to quit was not yet great enough
to completely overcome his desire to continue.
47
The same is true for the begrudging addict. He

may feel trapped by an alien motivation, but
he alone still continues his drug habit. Like the
case of cigarettes, there only needs to be a strong
enough second-order desire to stop for the addict
to overcome her first-order desire to continue. If
this werent the case, we would never speak of
individuals hitting rock bottom or having their
life changing experience which led them to seek
help, and rehab would be a pointless institution.
It is even possible that hard drugs like heroin
are so addictive, that for substance abusers, a
positive reason to quit may never be discovered.
However, it is still the case that those reasons
exist, as individuals recover from such addiction
on a regular basis. Therefore, it is not that the
addicts will is not her own, but rather that her will
alone does not provide sufficient motivation for
her to quit her habit. Whether or not an event or
influence eventually helps her to quit is a matter
of possibility, but what is crucial to understand
is that the choice is always present. A harrowing
experience does not give the addict her will back,
it simply convinces her that it is time to invoke it.
As a result, agents are not enslaved to compulsive
desires, but instead must suffer an internal battle
with their own will.
If akrasia is a legitimate possibility, and we
are not forced or compelled to act by irresistible
desires, then weakness of will is a distinct possibility. Yet one must still explain why, if humans
are capable of preventing it, we would ever knowingly act in ways that are contrary to our intentions
or plans. It is important to begin such an analysis
by separating a weakness of will from what was
earlier described as akrasia. As mentioned, while
the two often coincide, and many use the terms
in similar ways, they are, and must be understood, as separate concepts. As Richard Holton
describes, while a weakness of will can include
acting against ones better judgment, it is certainly
not necessary. The decisions may be detrimental,
or completely benign, but they need not carry any
moral or evaluative weight at all. It may simply be
that the agent is too easily deflected from the path
that they have chosen.10 A weakness of will, then,
48
is better understood as the tendency of an agent to

reconsider their intentions.11
Granted, regarding intentions as a characteristic of human beings is not an undisputed position. There are those who believe that intentions
are a philosophical illusion, and others still who
accept their existence, but believe they are themselves a complex way of describing more basic,
concrete terms.12 In order to alleviate such reservations, it is necessary to understand why intentions are not only a legitimate aspect of our nature,
but an integral one at that. First and foremost,
whether or not intentions are reducible into more
specific, sub-categories is not of major concern to
my argument. Judging by the arguments presented
in favor of both accounts, it certainly seems fair to
consider intentions as their own, irreducible entity.
Even if they are, as some philosophers hold, better
described in other terms, it seems the only alteration needed for this argument to remain salient is
a revision of the language used. With that established, one need only describe the distinguishing
marks of intention and the useful role that intentions can play.13
While many philosophers have struggled
with providing such an account, Michael Bratman
presents a very concise and coherent description
of intent and intentional action. Bratman views
intentions through a lens of functionalism; regardless of linguistics or loop-hole cases, intentions
are what they represent and do for agents.14 In
other words, an intention is something that commits an agent to action.15 Furthermore, intentions are built upon three fundamental principals:
a requirement not to reconsider an intention, to
engage in practical reasoning in how to accomplish
the intent, and to refrain from making opposing
intentions.16 Bratmans argument applies mainly
to future-directed intentions or those concerned
with actions to be performed at a later date, but it
does not exclude present-directed intentions, or
those based in the here and now.17
Bratmans argument is both plausible and
compelling. Human beings are goal oriented agents;
we create complex plans for the future, and seek to

achieve previously created aims on a daily basis.
Intentions are therefore a very common and useful
aspect of our nature. I plan to do things ahead in
advance, so that I can lay a stable groundwork
on which future deliberations can build.18 In
this way, I intend to act in order to organize my
time in a logical and coherent way. These intentions need to be stable, well thought out, and in
harmony with one another. When considered as
such, intentions seem both realistic and practical.
While present-directed intentions seem more difficult to define, it certainly seems as though they
would follow this same structure, as they are often
merely the coming to fruition of previously laid
plans. Ultimately, I believe Bratmans argument is
conclusive and convincing; intentions are an integral aspect of our nature, and provide the basis for
our plans and goals.
reasons to revise an intention, namely: if the circumstances have changed, if they can no longer be
accomplished, if they would now lead to greater
suffering, and not to reconsider in situations that
prevent clear thought or when the original intention was designed to avoid such indecisiveness.20
While this is not exhaustive list, it is designed only
to provide basic rules of thumb, which apply to
nearly all the realistic cases an agent faces. There
are certain clarifications that Holton believes
should be considered. For example, if I revise
risky decision, this may or may not be an example
of weak will. If I plan to bungee jump, but knowing my rope will break, revise my intention and
go purchase and new rope, this does not seem to
exhibit weak will.21 However, if I am sure the jump
will be as safe as it can be, and I simply lose my
nerve at the last moment, it seems I am experiencing a weakness of will.
If akrasia is possible, compulsive acts are

not irresistible, and intentions guide our future
direct goals, it seems there is a relatively simple
account of weakness of will. An agent with a weak
will is one who merely revises her intention, in
circumstances when she should not have revised
it.19 While akratic or compulsive action does not
play a major role in this definition, by explaining
away their relevance to weakness of will, they are
no longer legitimate maneuvers for the skeptic. In
other words, a revision of will to act against ones
better judgment, or the revision of ones will to
continue smoking despite a desire to quit, are still
both examples of a weakness of will.
It is also important to separate an agents

will from other aspects of his character. For example, an indecisive movie buff may have a very
difficult time selecting a film with every visit to
the video store, yet it does not seem appropriate
to call him weak willed.22 Holton argues that this
is because his intention to rent one movie over
another is not contrary inclination defeating.23
In other words, the movie buff is only exhibiting a
weakness of will if he originally selected a movie
in order to avoid his indecisive tendencies. Therefore, if he simply thought of a movie he would like
to see but later changed his mind, he is indecisive,
but if he selected a film in order to make his trip
quick, and later revises this intention, he is being
weak willed.24
Understood in this way, weakness of will

seems a very plausible, and commonly understood,
concept. When someone plans to get in shape by
running every morning, vows to stop eating junk
food, or aims to do their homework every night,
and then later revises these intentions, they are
illustrating a weakness of will. This is not to say
that an intention can never be revised. Clearly, if I
planned to run every morning, and I break my leg
after week one, it is no longer reasonable for me
to act on my intention. As Holton points out, there
appears to be a basic, common-sense list of logical
While skeptics may argue that this list, and its

clarifications, are incomplete or seemingly arbitrary, I believe this complaint is unfair to Holtons
conclusion. The basic stipulations regarding intention revisions do cover nearly all the practical situations an agent would face. Furthermore, Holton
does not apologize for the vagueness, but rather
suggests that an appropriate analysis of weakness of will must embrace the inherent ambiguity of will itself. While initially unsettling, this
49
assertion does make a great deal of sense. Because

the will of an agent can be incredible difficult to
determine, it is unfair to hold Holton to a standard
of complete explanation. When a runner pulls up
halfway around the track because he breaks his
ankle, we understand that he was simply unable
to complete the race. Yet if the same runner pulls
up, complaining that he simply could not finish the
race, we may be tempted to accuse him of having a
weak will. It is clearly not necessary, however, for
an injury to be visible in order to be painful. If the
runner has ruptured his spleen, or had simply been
so sore that he could physically not continue, it
seems we would be willing to grant him the same
sympathy as if he had broken his ankle. Yet this
very same runner may have only desired to quit
running, and therefore never had the will to finish.
The point of these examples is to illustrate the
vague nature of will itself. If we cannot with cer-
tainty determine an agents will, then it is unfair

of us to demand Holton to infallibly determine
whether that will is weak.
The account of weakness of will as an unreasonable tendency to revise ones intentions is a very
successful and plausible explanation. It allows for
akratic action, accounts for the improbability of
compulsive behavior, and provides a reasonable
description of a weak willed agent. Most importantly, it divorces the term from evaluations of
judgment, and instead understands it as an inability to plan for the future in a stable way. This is
how most linguistically understand the term, and,
in fact, the functional role that it plays. In essence,
weakness of will is both possible and probable: it
is the common occurrence of agents refusing to
follow through with an intended action.
Andrew K. Fletcher is a senior at Dartmouth College, seeking a major in Philosophy and a minor in
Native American Studies. He is interested in moral philosophy, aesthetics, and philosophy of mind. Next
year he will attend the University of Oregon School of Law as a meritorious scholarship recipient.
50
Notes
1

2
3

4
5
6
7
8
9
10

11
12
13
14

15
16
17

18
19

20
21
22
23
24
Watson, Gary. Skepticism about Weakness of Will., Philosophical Review, Vol. 86, No. 3, July
1977, 319.
Watson, 320.
Walker, Arthur F. The Problem of Weakness of Will., Nos, Vol. 23, No. 5, December 1989,
654.
Pugmire, as quoted in, Walker, 654.
Ibid, 324.
Ibid, 325.
Ibid, 325.
Ibid, 325.
Ibid, 327.
Holton, Richard. Intention and Weakness of Will., Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 96, No. 5, May
1999, 241.
Ibid, 241.
Ibid, 241-242.
Ibid, 243.
Velleman, David. Review of: Intention, Plans, and Practical Reason by Michael Bratman,
Philosophical Review 100, No. 2, April 1991, 278.
Velleman, 278.
Ibid, 278.
Bratman, Michael. Two Faces of Intention, Philosophical Review, Vol. 93, No. 3, July 1984,
376.
Velleman, 278.
Holton, Richard. Intention and Weakness of Will., Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 96, No. 5, May
1999, 247.
Ibid, 249.
Ibid, 249.
Ibid, 250.
Ibid, 250.
Ibid, 251.
51

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Dartmouth Undergraduate Journal of Philosophy

Fall 2006 / Winter 2007

Book Review: Nietzsches French Legacy - A Genealogy of

Reviews the book Nietzsches French Legacy: A Genealogy of Poststructuralism written by

Book Review: Nietzsche, Hiedegger, and Daoist Thought

Nietzsches Great Politics: Man and the State of Nature

Dartmouth Philosophy Journal

Descartes: On the Existence of God

An appeal for Induction

Intentionally Weak: The Case for Weakness of Will

A Note From the Editors:

Dartmouth Philosophy Journal

Nietzsches French Legacy:

riting about Nietzsche is difficult, even

reminds us, however, that what is important is their

tion is common in contemporary French thought,

In the chapter Genealogy, Power, and the

Foucault draws the relation between truth,

According the Schrift, Deleuze situates the

Dartmouth Philosophy Journal

che instead of Marx or Freud. While Marx focused

nomy, however, because the gift is not free and

Schrift confronts Nietzsche with Cixous

In the books final chapter, Why the French

Schrift identifies two economies in Nietzsches

Schrift finishes his work by reflecting on the

Volume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007

not concerned with actually understanding either

ralism. His thorough explanations are clear and

Dartmouth Philosophy Journal

Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Daoist Thought

Ann Mary Mathew

n her book, Nietzsche, Hiedegger, and Daoist

According to Froese, Nietzsche would sugVolume 24 Issue 1 Fall 2006/Winter 2007

Thus Froese argues that the tendency to reject

in the future, and thus from this perspective, the

something greater of it: it alerts us to make us

However, this identification of the mother

Uniqueness does not arise out of isolation. This

tics. Nietzsche, abstractly, advocated a hierarchical systemprobably as a reactionary position

Nietzsches Great Politics:

of presenting the weaker view as convincing, but

of humanity is part of the herd, he obviously sees

This is Nietzsches view on the marketplace

merely a degenerate form of political organization

great birds of prey. More plausibly, a Nietzschean

the first two the select. The superior caste--I call it

Those who wish to argue that Nietzsches

In a similar light, one could argue that

As if this was not enough to convey his judgment

and pseudo-philosophy and argued that placing

red to sacrifice human beings for ones cause, not

This value is freedom. Freedom is

The greatest virtue of the state of nature is

One maintains the distance which separates us. That

Dartmouth Philosophy Journal

he will freely express his will to power outwards,

che wrote that,

Thomas Hobbes wrote that when, men

Hobbes argued that people would always

Nietzsche essentially loved war. To him, it

these same institutions produce quite different

War both teaches man about freedom and