INSTINCT AND REASON MEET AGAIN

Instinct and reason meet again in Nietzsche’s Jenseits 191. This important theme keeps recurring on these pages, stemming from my insistence that God contains both the rational and the irrational sides, whence it is perfectly clear that the question of instinct versus reason is not of the either-or sort (few phenomena are of this sort anyway, no offense to my hero Kierkegaard!), but rather of balance, or to put it sharper, of the right mix. With this in mind, let us read the promised Nietzschean passage:

“The ancient theological problem of faith and knowledge, or, more clearly, of instinct and reason, in other words, the question whether--- as regards the valuation of things--- instinct deserves more authority than rationality, which wants us to evaluate and act in accordance with reasons, with a ‘why?’--in other words, in accordance with expedience and utility,-- this is still the ancient moral problem, which first emerged in the person of Socrates, and divided thinking people long before Christianity. Socrates himself, to be sure, with the taste of his talent, that of a superior dialectician, had initially sided with reason; and in fact, what did he do all his life long, but laugh at the awkward incapacity of noble Athenians, who, like all noble men, were men of instinct and never could give sufficient information about the reasons of their actions? In the end, however, privately and secretly, he laughed at himself too: in himself he found, before his conscience and self-examination, the same difficulty and incapacity. But is that a reason, he encouraged himself, for giving up the instincts? One has to see to it that they, as well as reason, receive their due. One must follow his instincts, but persuade reason to assist them with good reasons. This was the real falseness of the great ironic, so rich in secrets, he got his conscience to be satisfied with a kind of self-trickery: at bottom he had seen through the irrational element in moral judgments.” (Jenseits #191.)

Let us make a stop here, before proceeding with Nietzsche’s second paragraph. It is extremely important to distinguish now between pre-Christian and non-Christian “instinct” and the Christian faith per se, which Nietzsche, not without some good reasons, equates with Christian instinct. Considering that Nietzsche has a low opinion of the Christian faith, meddling in the affairs of philosophy, we will find that those reasons do not apply to Socrates, whose falseness, therefore, is not a negative moral valuation of “the great ironic,” but ought to be seen more as the skill of an accomplished juggler who succeeds in creating a strong illusion without actually deceiving the people who are watching him.

His observation that reason is more befitting the plebeian type, whereas instinct is a defining characteristic of the aristocratic frame of mind, is absolutely fascinating. It cannot be put to a test successfully, however, as in most cases we are dealing with mixed types. Men of the highest order of nobility have all been lowly plebeians some time back in their ancestry, and their plebeian genes may even show from time to time. On the other hand, there is an overwhelming historical evidence of people of humble birth who have displayed a great abundance of natural aristocratic tendencies. It’s said about Goethe and Beethoven that in their lives their certain disparity of birth was reversed in their behavior, etc. Let us now move on, however…

“Plato, more noble and innocent in such matters and lacking the craftiness of a plebeian, wanted to employ all his strength-- the greatest strength any philosopher so far has had at his disposal-- to prove to himself that reason and instinct of themselves tend toward one goal-- the good, “God.” And ever since Plato, all theologians and philosophers are on the same track-- that is, in moral matters it has so far been instinct, or what the Christians call ‘faith,’ or ‘the herd,’ as I put it, that has triumphed. Perhaps, Dèscartes should be excepted, as the father of rationalism, who conceded authority to reason alone; but reason is merely an instrument, and Dèscartes was superficial.” (Jenseits 191.)

With regard to Plato, here is a most commendable desire to reconcile instinct and reason as two paths that lead to the same goal, which is “good life” and God. In the same paragraph we find a brilliantly insightful, albeit delightfully understated, explanation of the origin of rationalism in Dèscartes. Apparently, his quest for the triumph of reason, manifested by his philosophically flawed, but otherwise spectacular Cogito, ergo sum!, has not been directed against instinct, but against the appropriation of the irrational element, and its imposition on reason, by the Christian faith. (One of the interesting offshoots of this situation has been the doctrine of double-truth, which is being discussed elsewhere.) For this reason, Dèscartes’ superficiality in this case does not prevent him from getting generally uncontested top grades, in Nietzsche’s own eyes.