Reading Help Beyond good and evil
wars and complications in Asia would be necessary to free Europe `
` from its greatest danger, but also internal subversion, the `
` shattering of the empire into small states, and above all the `
` introduction of parliamentary imbecility, together with the `
` obligation of every one to read his newspaper at breakfast I do `
` not say this as one who desires it, in my heart I should rather `
` prefer the contrary--I mean such an increase in the threatening `
` attitude of Russia, that Europe would have to make up its mind to `
` become equally threatening--namely, TO ACQUIRE ONE WILL, by means `
` of a new caste to rule over the Continent, a persistent, dreadful `
` will of its own, that can set its aims thousands of years ahead; `
` so that the long spun-out comedy of its petty-statism, and its `
` dynastic as well as its democratic many-willed-ness, might `
` finally be brought to a close. The time for petty politics is `
` past; the next century will bring the struggle for the dominion `
` of the world--the COMPULSION to great politics. `
` `
` 209. As to how far the new warlike age on which we Europeans have `
` evidently entered may perhaps favour the growth of another and `
` stronger kind of skepticism, I should like to express myself `
` preliminarily merely by a parable, which the lovers of German `
` history will already understand. That unscrupulous enthusiast for `
` big, handsome grenadiers (who, as King of Prussia, brought into `
` being a military and skeptical genius--and therewith, in reality, `
` the new and now triumphantly emerged type of German), the `
` problematic, crazy father of Frederick the Great, had on one `
` point the very knack and lucky grasp of the genius: he knew what `
` was then lacking in Germany, the want of which was a hundred `
` times more alarming and serious than any lack of culture and `
` social form--his ill-will to the young Frederick resulted from `
` the anxiety of a profound instinct. MEN WERE LACKING; and he `
` suspected, to his bitterest regret, that his own son was not man `
` enough. There, however, he deceived himself; but who would not `
` have deceived himself in his place? He saw his son lapsed to `
` atheism, to the ESPRIT, to the pleasant frivolity of clever `
` Frenchmen--he saw in the background the great bloodsucker, the `
` spider skepticism; he suspected the incurable wretchedness of a `
` heart no longer hard enough either for evil or good, and of a `
` broken will that no longer commands, is no longer ABLE to `
` command. Meanwhile, however, there grew up in his son that new `
` kind of harder and more dangerous skepticism--who knows TO WHAT `
` EXTENT it was encouraged just by his father's hatred and the icy `
` melancholy of a will condemned to solitude?--the skepticism of `
` daring manliness, which is closely related to the genius for war `
` and conquest, and made its first entrance into Germany in the `
` person of the great Frederick. This skepticism despises and `
` nevertheless grasps; it undermines and takes possession; it does `
` not believe, but it does not thereby lose itself; it gives the `
` spirit a dangerous liberty, but it keeps strict guard over the `
` heart. It is the GERMAN form of skepticism, which, as a continued `
` Fredericianism, risen to the highest spirituality, has kept `
` Europe for a considerable time under the dominion of the German `
` spirit and its critical and historical distrust Owing to the `
` insuperably strong and tough masculine character of the great `
` German philologists and historical critics (who, rightly `
` estimated, were also all of them artists of destruction and `
` dissolution), a NEW conception of the German spirit gradually `
` established itself--in spite of all Romanticism in music and `
` philosophy--in which the leaning towards masculine skepticism was `
` decidedly prominent whether, for instance, as fearlessness of `
` gaze, as courage and sternness of the dissecting hand, or as `
` resolute will to dangerous voyages of discovery, to spiritualized `
` North Pole expeditions under barren and dangerous skies. There `
` may be good grounds for it when warm-blooded and superficial `
` humanitarians cross themselves before this spirit, CET ESPRIT `
` FATALISTE, IRONIQUE, MEPHISTOPHELIQUE, as Michelet calls it, not `
` without a shudder. But if one would realize how characteristic is `
` this fear of the "man" in the German spirit which awakened Europe `
` out of its "dogmatic slumber," let us call to mind the former `
` conception which had to be overcome by this new one--and that it `
` is not so very long ago that a masculinized woman could dare, `
` with unbridled presumption, to recommend the Germans to the `
` interest of Europe as gentle, goodhearted, weak-willed, and `
` poetical fools. Finally, let us only understand profoundly enough `
` Napoleon's astonishment when he saw Goethe it reveals what had `
` been regarded for centuries as the "German spirit" "VOILA UN `
` HOMME!"--that was as much as to say "But this is a MAN! And I `
` only expected to see a German!" `
` `
` Supposing, then, that in the picture of the philosophers of the `
` future, some trait suggests the question whether they must not `
` perhaps be skeptics in the last-mentioned sense, something in `
` them would only be designated thereby--and not they themselves. `
` With equal right they might call themselves critics, and `
` assuredly they will be men of experiments. By the name with which `
` I ventured to baptize them, I have already expressly emphasized `
` their attempting and their love of attempting is this because, as `
` critics in body and soul, they will love to make use of `
` experiments in a new, and perhaps wider and more dangerous sense? `
` In their passion for knowledge, will they have to go further in `
` daring and painful attempts than the sensitive and pampered taste `
` of a democratic century can approve of?--There is no doubt these `
` coming ones will be least able to dispense with the serious and `
` not unscrupulous qualities which distinguish the critic from the `
` skeptic I mean the certainty as to standards of worth, the `
` conscious employment of a unity of method, the wary courage, the `
` standing-alone, and the capacity for self-responsibility, indeed, `
` they will avow among themselves a DELIGHT in denial and `
` dissection, and a certain considerate cruelty, which knows how to `
` handle the knife surely and deftly, even when the heart bleeds `
` They will be STERNER (and perhaps not always towards themselves `
` only) than humane people may desire, they will not deal with the `
` "truth" in order that it may "please" them, or "elevate" and `
` "inspire" them--they will rather have little faith in "TRUTH" `
` bringing with it such revels for the feelings. They will smile, `
` those rigourous spirits, when any one says in their presence `
` "That thought elevates me, why should it not be true?" or "That `
` work enchants me, why should it not be beautiful?" or "That `
` artist enlarges me, why should he not be great?" Perhaps they `
` will not only have a smile, but a genuine disgust for all that is `
` thus rapturous, idealistic, feminine, and hermaphroditic, and if `
` any one could look into their inmost hearts, he would not easily `
` find therein the intention to reconcile "Christian sentiments" `
` with "antique taste," or even with "modern parliamentarism" (the `
` kind of reconciliation necessarily found even among philosophers `
` in our very uncertain and consequently very conciliatory `
` century). Critical discipline, and every habit that conduces to `
` purity and rigour in intellectual matters, will not only be `
` demanded from themselves by these philosophers of the future, `
` they may even make a display thereof as their special adornment-- `
` nevertheless they will not want to be called critics on that `
` account. It will seem to them no small indignity to philosophy to `
` have it decreed, as is so welcome nowadays, that "philosophy `
` itself is criticism and critical science--and nothing else `
` whatever!" Though this estimate of philosophy may enjoy the `
` approval of all the Positivists of France and Germany (and `
` possibly it even flattered the heart and taste of KANT: let us `
` call to mind the titles of his principal works), our new `
` philosophers will say, notwithstanding, that critics are `
` instruments of the philosopher, and just on that account, as `
` instruments, they are far from being philosophers themselves! `
` Even the great Chinaman of Konigsberg was only a great critic. `
` `
` 211. I insist upon it that people finally cease confounding `
` philosophical workers, and in general scientific men, with `
` philosophers--that precisely here one should strictly give "each `
` his own," and not give those far too much, these far too little. `
` It may be necessary for the education of the real philosopher `
` that he himself should have once stood upon all those steps upon `
` which his servants, the scientific workers of philosophy, remain `
` standing, and MUST remain standing he himself must perhaps have `
` been critic, and dogmatist, and historian, and besides, poet, and `
` collector, and traveler, and riddle-reader, and moralist, and `
` seer, and "free spirit," and almost everything, in order to `
` traverse the whole range of human values and estimations, and `
` that he may BE ABLE with a variety of eyes and consciences to `
` look from a height to any distance, from a depth up to any `
` height, from a nook into any expanse. But all these are only `
` preliminary conditions for his task; this task itself demands `
` something else--it requires him TO CREATE VALUES. The `
` philosophical workers, after the excellent pattern of Kant and `
` Hegel, have to fix and formalize some great existing body of `
` valuations--that is to say, former DETERMINATIONS OF VALUE, `
` creations of value, which have become prevalent, and are for a `
` time called "truths"--whether in the domain of the LOGICAL, the `
` POLITICAL (moral), or the ARTISTIC. It is for these investigators `
` to make whatever has happened and been esteemed hitherto, `
` conspicuous, conceivable, intelligible, and manageable, to `
` shorten everything long, even "time" itself, and to SUBJUGATE the `
` entire past: an immense and wonderful task, in the carrying out `
` of which all refined pride, all tenacious will, can surely find `
` satisfaction. THE REAL PHILOSOPHERS, HOWEVER, ARE COMMANDERS AND `
` LAW-GIVERS; they say: "Thus SHALL it be!" They determine first `
` the Whither and the Why of mankind, and thereby set aside the `
` previous labour of all philosophical workers, and all subjugators `
` of the past--they grasp at the future with a creative hand, and `
` whatever is and was, becomes for them thereby a means, an `
` instrument, and a hammer. Their "knowing" is CREATING, their `
` creating is a law-giving, their will to truth is--WILL TO POWER. `
` --Are there at present such philosophers? Have there ever been `
` such philosophers? MUST there not be such philosophers some day? `
` . . . `
` `
` 212. It is always more obvious to me that the philosopher, as a `
` man INDISPENSABLE for the morrow and the day after the morrow, `
` has ever found himself, and HAS BEEN OBLIGED to find himself, in `
` contradiction to the day in which he lives; his enemy has always `
` been the ideal of his day. Hitherto all those extraordinary `
` furtherers of humanity whom one calls philosophers--who rarely `
` regarded themselves as lovers of wisdom, but rather as `
` disagreeable fools and dangerous interrogators--have found their `
` mission, their hard, involuntary, imperative mission (in the end, `
` however, the greatness of their mission), in being the bad `
` conscience of their age. In putting the vivisector's knife to the `
` breast of the very VIRTUES OF THEIR AGE, they have betrayed their `
` own secret; it has been for the sake of a NEW greatness of man, a `
` new untrodden path to his aggrandizement. They have always `
` disclosed how much hypocrisy, indolence, self-indulgence, and `
` self-neglect, how much falsehood was concealed under the most `
` venerated types of contemporary morality, how much virtue was `
` OUTLIVED, they have always said "We must remove hence to where `
` YOU are least at home" In the face of a world of "modern ideas," `
` which would like to confine every one in a corner, in a `
` "specialty," a philosopher, if there could be philosophers `
` nowadays, would be compelled to place the greatness of man, the `
` conception of "greatness," precisely in his comprehensiveness and `
` multifariousness, in his all-roundness, he would even determine `
` worth and rank according to the amount and variety of that which `
` a man could bear and take upon himself, according to the EXTENT `
` to which a man could stretch his responsibility Nowadays the `
` taste and virtue of the age weaken and attenuate the will, `
`
` from its greatest danger, but also internal subversion, the `
` shattering of the empire into small states, and above all the `
` introduction of parliamentary imbecility, together with the `
` obligation of every one to read his newspaper at breakfast I do `
` not say this as one who desires it, in my heart I should rather `
` prefer the contrary--I mean such an increase in the threatening `
` attitude of Russia, that Europe would have to make up its mind to `
` become equally threatening--namely, TO ACQUIRE ONE WILL, by means `
` of a new caste to rule over the Continent, a persistent, dreadful `
` will of its own, that can set its aims thousands of years ahead; `
` so that the long spun-out comedy of its petty-statism, and its `
` dynastic as well as its democratic many-willed-ness, might `
` finally be brought to a close. The time for petty politics is `
` past; the next century will bring the struggle for the dominion `
` of the world--the COMPULSION to great politics. `
` `
` 209. As to how far the new warlike age on which we Europeans have `
` evidently entered may perhaps favour the growth of another and `
` stronger kind of skepticism, I should like to express myself `
` preliminarily merely by a parable, which the lovers of German `
` history will already understand. That unscrupulous enthusiast for `
` big, handsome grenadiers (who, as King of Prussia, brought into `
` being a military and skeptical genius--and therewith, in reality, `
` the new and now triumphantly emerged type of German), the `
` problematic, crazy father of Frederick the Great, had on one `
` point the very knack and lucky grasp of the genius: he knew what `
` was then lacking in Germany, the want of which was a hundred `
` times more alarming and serious than any lack of culture and `
` social form--his ill-will to the young Frederick resulted from `
` the anxiety of a profound instinct. MEN WERE LACKING; and he `
` suspected, to his bitterest regret, that his own son was not man `
` enough. There, however, he deceived himself; but who would not `
` have deceived himself in his place? He saw his son lapsed to `
` atheism, to the ESPRIT, to the pleasant frivolity of clever `
` Frenchmen--he saw in the background the great bloodsucker, the `
` spider skepticism; he suspected the incurable wretchedness of a `
` heart no longer hard enough either for evil or good, and of a `
` broken will that no longer commands, is no longer ABLE to `
` command. Meanwhile, however, there grew up in his son that new `
` kind of harder and more dangerous skepticism--who knows TO WHAT `
` EXTENT it was encouraged just by his father's hatred and the icy `
` melancholy of a will condemned to solitude?--the skepticism of `
` daring manliness, which is closely related to the genius for war `
` and conquest, and made its first entrance into Germany in the `
` person of the great Frederick. This skepticism despises and `
` nevertheless grasps; it undermines and takes possession; it does `
` not believe, but it does not thereby lose itself; it gives the `
` spirit a dangerous liberty, but it keeps strict guard over the `
` heart. It is the GERMAN form of skepticism, which, as a continued `
` Fredericianism, risen to the highest spirituality, has kept `
` Europe for a considerable time under the dominion of the German `
` spirit and its critical and historical distrust Owing to the `
` insuperably strong and tough masculine character of the great `
` German philologists and historical critics (who, rightly `
` estimated, were also all of them artists of destruction and `
` dissolution), a NEW conception of the German spirit gradually `
` established itself--in spite of all Romanticism in music and `
` philosophy--in which the leaning towards masculine skepticism was `
` decidedly prominent whether, for instance, as fearlessness of `
` gaze, as courage and sternness of the dissecting hand, or as `
` resolute will to dangerous voyages of discovery, to spiritualized `
` North Pole expeditions under barren and dangerous skies. There `
` may be good grounds for it when warm-blooded and superficial `
` humanitarians cross themselves before this spirit, CET ESPRIT `
` FATALISTE, IRONIQUE, MEPHISTOPHELIQUE, as Michelet calls it, not `
` without a shudder. But if one would realize how characteristic is `
` this fear of the "man" in the German spirit which awakened Europe `
` out of its "dogmatic slumber," let us call to mind the former `
` conception which had to be overcome by this new one--and that it `
` is not so very long ago that a masculinized woman could dare, `
` with unbridled presumption, to recommend the Germans to the `
` interest of Europe as gentle, goodhearted, weak-willed, and `
` poetical fools. Finally, let us only understand profoundly enough `
` Napoleon's astonishment when he saw Goethe it reveals what had `
` been regarded for centuries as the "German spirit" "VOILA UN `
` HOMME!"--that was as much as to say "But this is a MAN! And I `
` only expected to see a German!" `
` `
` Supposing, then, that in the picture of the philosophers of the `
` future, some trait suggests the question whether they must not `
` perhaps be skeptics in the last-mentioned sense, something in `
` them would only be designated thereby--and not they themselves. `
` With equal right they might call themselves critics, and `
` assuredly they will be men of experiments. By the name with which `
` I ventured to baptize them, I have already expressly emphasized `
` their attempting and their love of attempting is this because, as `
` critics in body and soul, they will love to make use of `
` experiments in a new, and perhaps wider and more dangerous sense? `
` In their passion for knowledge, will they have to go further in `
` daring and painful attempts than the sensitive and pampered taste `
` of a democratic century can approve of?--There is no doubt these `
` coming ones will be least able to dispense with the serious and `
` not unscrupulous qualities which distinguish the critic from the `
` skeptic I mean the certainty as to standards of worth, the `
` conscious employment of a unity of method, the wary courage, the `
` standing-alone, and the capacity for self-responsibility, indeed, `
` they will avow among themselves a DELIGHT in denial and `
` dissection, and a certain considerate cruelty, which knows how to `
` handle the knife surely and deftly, even when the heart bleeds `
` They will be STERNER (and perhaps not always towards themselves `
` only) than humane people may desire, they will not deal with the `
` "truth" in order that it may "please" them, or "elevate" and `
` "inspire" them--they will rather have little faith in "TRUTH" `
` bringing with it such revels for the feelings. They will smile, `
` those rigourous spirits, when any one says in their presence `
` "That thought elevates me, why should it not be true?" or "That `
` work enchants me, why should it not be beautiful?" or "That `
` artist enlarges me, why should he not be great?" Perhaps they `
` will not only have a smile, but a genuine disgust for all that is `
` thus rapturous, idealistic, feminine, and hermaphroditic, and if `
` any one could look into their inmost hearts, he would not easily `
` find therein the intention to reconcile "Christian sentiments" `
` with "antique taste," or even with "modern parliamentarism" (the `
` kind of reconciliation necessarily found even among philosophers `
` in our very uncertain and consequently very conciliatory `
` century). Critical discipline, and every habit that conduces to `
` purity and rigour in intellectual matters, will not only be `
` demanded from themselves by these philosophers of the future, `
` they may even make a display thereof as their special adornment-- `
` nevertheless they will not want to be called critics on that `
` account. It will seem to them no small indignity to philosophy to `
` have it decreed, as is so welcome nowadays, that "philosophy `
` itself is criticism and critical science--and nothing else `
` whatever!" Though this estimate of philosophy may enjoy the `
` approval of all the Positivists of France and Germany (and `
` possibly it even flattered the heart and taste of KANT: let us `
` call to mind the titles of his principal works), our new `
` philosophers will say, notwithstanding, that critics are `
` instruments of the philosopher, and just on that account, as `
` instruments, they are far from being philosophers themselves! `
` Even the great Chinaman of Konigsberg was only a great critic. `
` `
` 211. I insist upon it that people finally cease confounding `
` philosophical workers, and in general scientific men, with `
` philosophers--that precisely here one should strictly give "each `
` his own," and not give those far too much, these far too little. `
` It may be necessary for the education of the real philosopher `
` that he himself should have once stood upon all those steps upon `
` which his servants, the scientific workers of philosophy, remain `
` standing, and MUST remain standing he himself must perhaps have `
` been critic, and dogmatist, and historian, and besides, poet, and `
` collector, and traveler, and riddle-reader, and moralist, and `
` seer, and "free spirit," and almost everything, in order to `
` traverse the whole range of human values and estimations, and `
` that he may BE ABLE with a variety of eyes and consciences to `
` look from a height to any distance, from a depth up to any `
` height, from a nook into any expanse. But all these are only `
` preliminary conditions for his task; this task itself demands `
` something else--it requires him TO CREATE VALUES. The `
` philosophical workers, after the excellent pattern of Kant and `
` Hegel, have to fix and formalize some great existing body of `
` valuations--that is to say, former DETERMINATIONS OF VALUE, `
` creations of value, which have become prevalent, and are for a `
` time called "truths"--whether in the domain of the LOGICAL, the `
` POLITICAL (moral), or the ARTISTIC. It is for these investigators `
` to make whatever has happened and been esteemed hitherto, `
` conspicuous, conceivable, intelligible, and manageable, to `
` shorten everything long, even "time" itself, and to SUBJUGATE the `
` entire past: an immense and wonderful task, in the carrying out `
` of which all refined pride, all tenacious will, can surely find `
` satisfaction. THE REAL PHILOSOPHERS, HOWEVER, ARE COMMANDERS AND `
` LAW-GIVERS; they say: "Thus SHALL it be!" They determine first `
` the Whither and the Why of mankind, and thereby set aside the `
` previous labour of all philosophical workers, and all subjugators `
` of the past--they grasp at the future with a creative hand, and `
` whatever is and was, becomes for them thereby a means, an `
` instrument, and a hammer. Their "knowing" is CREATING, their `
` creating is a law-giving, their will to truth is--WILL TO POWER. `
` --Are there at present such philosophers? Have there ever been `
` such philosophers? MUST there not be such philosophers some day? `
` . . . `
` `
` 212. It is always more obvious to me that the philosopher, as a `
` man INDISPENSABLE for the morrow and the day after the morrow, `
` has ever found himself, and HAS BEEN OBLIGED to find himself, in `
` contradiction to the day in which he lives; his enemy has always `
` been the ideal of his day. Hitherto all those extraordinary `
` furtherers of humanity whom one calls philosophers--who rarely `
` regarded themselves as lovers of wisdom, but rather as `
` disagreeable fools and dangerous interrogators--have found their `
` mission, their hard, involuntary, imperative mission (in the end, `
` however, the greatness of their mission), in being the bad `
` conscience of their age. In putting the vivisector's knife to the `
` breast of the very VIRTUES OF THEIR AGE, they have betrayed their `
` own secret; it has been for the sake of a NEW greatness of man, a `
` new untrodden path to his aggrandizement. They have always `
` disclosed how much hypocrisy, indolence, self-indulgence, and `
` self-neglect, how much falsehood was concealed under the most `
` venerated types of contemporary morality, how much virtue was `
` OUTLIVED, they have always said "We must remove hence to where `
` YOU are least at home" In the face of a world of "modern ideas," `
` which would like to confine every one in a corner, in a `
` "specialty," a philosopher, if there could be philosophers `
` nowadays, would be compelled to place the greatness of man, the `
` conception of "greatness," precisely in his comprehensiveness and `
` multifariousness, in his all-roundness, he would even determine `
` worth and rank according to the amount and variety of that which `
` a man could bear and take upon himself, according to the EXTENT `
` to which a man could stretch his responsibility Nowadays the `
` taste and virtue of the age weaken and attenuate the will, `
`