Louis Claude de Saint-Martin and Plato: Where do our ideas come from?
These questions may seem very outdated today, as the debate appears to have been settled by the neurological argument, according to which the brain is the origin of our consciousness. The question has now shifted to how consciousness arises, which is a similar problem to how ideas are produced.
However, the hypothesis that the brain is not the origin of all our ideas, but merely a “transducer”, can still be made: can one discriminate between a brain that only analyses and translates a raw input into a given output and a brain that is the actual source of the same output?
Ideas of physical objects
In 1782, Louis Claude de Saint-Martin wrote:
”Man depends entirely
[on exterior objects for] his physical and sensual
ideas. One cannot deny that he carries in him all the
faculties that are analogous to the objects that he can
know, for what are all our discoveries if not the
intimate view and the secret feeling of the relation
that exists between our own light and those things;
however, we can have no idea of a sensible object if
that object doesn’t communicate to us its impressions,
and we have the proof of this in that a defect of our
senses deprives us, either completely or in part, of
the knowledge of those objects. […] It is therefore
certain that regarding sensible objects and their
analogous ideas, man is in a complete servitude.”
(Tableau Naturel des rapports qui existent entre Dieu,
l’homme et l’univers, ed. DRC
p.25)
The idea of man’s complete servitude, the enslavement
of his mind by the society, culture, and world in which
he is born and lives can be traced back to another
famous thinker: Plato. In Book 7 of the Republic, Plato
lays out his allegory of the cave, conversing with
Socrates:
”- And now, I said, let
me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened
or unenlightened:--Behold! human beings living in an
underground den, which has a mouth open towards the
light and reaching all along the den; here they have
been from their childhood, and have their legs and
necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only
see before them, being prevented by the chains from
turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire
is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the
prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if
you look, a low wall built along the way, like the
screen which marionette players have in front of them,
over which they show the puppets.
- I see.
- And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall
carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures
of animals made of wood and stone and various
materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are
talking, others silent.
- You have shown me a strange image, and they are
strange prisoners.
- Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their
own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the
fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
- True, he said; how could they see anything but the
shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
- And of the objects which are being carried in like
manner they would only see the shadows?
- Yes, he said.
- And if they were able to converse with one another,
would they not suppose that they were naming what was
actually before them?
- Very true.
- And suppose further that the prison had an echo which
came from the other side, would they not be sure to
fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice
which they heard came from the passing shadow?
- No question, he replied.
- To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing
but the shadows of the images.”
We are in
exile without realising it — the
perfect prison. If we examine our thoughts, we can see
how much they are modulated and inspired by exterior
contingencies, by our education, by our culture, and by
our environment. Even the language we speak and think
in most certainly has a huge influence on what we
think. Plato goes so far as to say that even the
objects of our thoughts are shadows of images (puppets)
that are at best a caricature of their model, not the
real thing.
When someone breaks away from the prevailing “mindset”,
others (society) tend to view them as mad or a genius.
These cases are relatively rare simply because our
brains and thoughts are “formatted” by our
circumstances, imprisoned as it were. Yet, we all have
original ideas, or inspiration, but how often do we
allow those ideas to surface and to actually drive our
actions?
A major American philosopher, Ralph Waldo Emerson,
elegantly captured this sentiment in
Self-Reliance (1841):
“I read the other day
some verses written by an eminent painter which were
original and not conventional. The soul always hears an
admonition in such lines, let the subject be what it
may. The sentiment they instil is of more value than
any thought they may contain. To believe your own
thought, to believe that what is true for you in your
private heart is true for all men,--that is genius.
Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be the
universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the
outmost,--and our first thought is rendered back to us
by the trumpets of the Last Judgment. Familiar as the
voice of the mind is to each, the highest merit we
ascribe to Moses, Plato, and Milton is that they set at
naught books and traditions, and spoke not what men,
but what they thought. A man should learn to detect and
watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind
from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of
bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his
thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we
recognize our own rejected thoughts: they come back to
us with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art
have no more affecting lesson for US than this. They
teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with
good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole Cry
of voices is on the other side. Else, tomorrow a
stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely
what we have thought and felt all the time, and we
shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from
another.”
Ideas of pure intellectual objects
Now what about ideas of objects that have no existence
in the world of senses, or that do not relate directly
to the objects our sense relate? When you think of a
square, you image a geometrical figure that has no
existence as such in the natural world; more abstract
ideas, like justice or beauty do not require us to
think of an individual case of justice or injustice, or
of a beautiful or ugly object to understand what we are
talking about. More-so, the idea of God, except in the
case of idolatry, has no mental representation and even
less a physical one.
Saint-Martin, again:
”Independently of the
ideas that man forms daily about perceptible objects
through the action of these objects on his senses, he
has ideas of another class, of a law, of a Power that
directs the Universe and those material objects; he has
the idea of the order that presides over it; he is even
drawn, as if by a natural movement, towards the harmony
that seems to produce and drive them.
He cannot create a single idea, yet he has that of a
superior strength and wisdom, which is at the same time
the end of all laws, the bond of all harmony, the pivot
and the centre from which emanate and where end all
the Virtues of Beings.
If these ideas form an absolutely different class from
those we have of material things; if no material object
can produce them; since the most perfect animals do not
announce any similar, although they live, just as man
does, amongst these objects; if, at the same time, no
idea in man arises but through exterior
means, this
signifies that man is in a total dependance, for his
intellectual as for his sensible ideas, and that, in
both orders, although he has the seed of all these
ideas in him, he is forced to wait for exterior
reactions to animate and produce them. He is neither
master, nor author of these ideas, and despite the
intent of concentrating on a particular object, he
cannot be sure to fulfil his goal without being
distracted by a thousand foreign ideas.
We are all exposed to involuntarily
receiving
these disorderly, painful and importunate ideas that
pursue us, in spite of us, with worries, doubts of all
kind, that interfere with our most satisfying
intellectual pleasures.” (Natural Table, pp: 26—27)
As Saint-Martin points out, man is in a complete
dependence: he depends on exterior objects to form
ideas, but one may add that he depends on contingencies
throughout every aspect of his life. A major
contingency is death, of course, but not it’s the only
one: you may plan to become a professional football
player, and irremediably injure your knee; or to
organise a barbecue and it rains, etc.
According to Plato, man even depends on a guide to be
pulled “out of the cave”:
”And now look again, and
see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are
released and disabused of their error. At first, when
any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to
stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look
towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the
glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see
the realities of which in his former state he had seen
the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him,
that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now,
when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is
turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer
vision,--what will be his reply? And you may further
imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects
as they pass and requiring him to name them,--will he
not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows
which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which
are now shown to him?
[…]
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged
up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is
forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not
likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches
the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be
able to see anything at all of what are now called
realities.”
For Saint-Martin, where, then, do man’s “higher” ideas
come from?
“[…] The intellectual
faculties of man are an undeniable proof that there are
[…], outside of man, intellectual and thinking
faculties which are analogous to his Being, that
produce thoughts in him; since the motives of his
thoughts do not belong to him, he can only find them in
an intelligent source which has relations with his
Being.”(Natural Table, p: 27)
Free will leads to Truth
So is man just a puppet? We may be dependant animals,
but we are rational animals too as Aristotle said, and
first and foremost, we are able to analyse ideas (an
activity which we commonly refer to as thought), and
decide between them according to their perceived
benefit. In short, we have free will:
“However, although man
is as passive in his intellectuals ideas as he is in
his physical ideas, he still has the privilege to
examine the ideas that are presented to him, to judge
them, to adopt them, to reject them, to act according
to his choices, and to hope, through an attentive and
focussed walk, to reach one day the invariable
pleasures of pure thought; all things that derive from
the use of freedom.”(Natural Table, p:
28)
The outcome of a disciplined perusal of our free will
is to reach pure thought, truth, Beauty, or to
contemplate
the light of
the sun as Plato puts it:
“[M]y dream as it appears to me is that in the region of the known the last thing to be seen and hardly seen is the idea of good, and that when seen, it must point us to the conclusion that this is indeed the cause for all things of all that is right and beautiful, giving birth in the visible world to light, and l the author of light and itself in the intelligible world being the authentic source of truth and reason..." The Republic, 517b-c.