Auguste Comte and Positivism

The Essential Writings

Gertrud Lenzer, Gunter Bischof

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781351315265
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Filosofia
• Subtopic: Storia e teoria della filosofia

Although Auguste Comte is conventionally acknowledged as one of the founders of sociology and as a key representative of positivism, few new editions of his writings have been published in the English language in this century. He has become virtually dissociated from the history of modern positivism and the most recent debates about it. Gertrud Lenzer maintains that the work of Comte is, for better or for worse, essential to an understanding of the modern period of positivism. This collection provides new access to the work of Comte and gives practitioners of various disciplines the possibility of reassessing concepts that were first introduced in Comte's writings.

Today much of the ordinary business of academic disciplines is conducted under the assumption that the realm of science is essentially separate from the realms of politics and science. A close reading of Comte will reveal how deeply such current ideas and theories were originally embedded in a particular political context. One of his central methodological principles was that the theory of society had to be removed from the arena of political practice precisely in order to control that practice by means of these same sciences. It is in Comte's work that the reader will be able to observe how the forces of social and political reaction began to be powerfully organized to combat the critical forces in its own and later eras. Auguste Comte and Positivism will be of importance to the work of philosophers, sociologists, political theorists, and historians.

I
Early Writings
(1819-1828)

The following two essays are among the six early essays that Comte included under the heading “General Appendix” to Volume IV of the System of Positive Polity. For this Appendix he wrote the Preface that is reprinted here.

Preface to the Early Writings (1854)

This Appendix fulfills the promise that I made, in 1851, when I commenced the treatise now completed, of reproducing all my early essays on social philosophy. Collected from periodicals long since forgotten, they may assist students disposed to follow my own course of philosophical development in their efforts to master positivism. But their publication is more especially intended to demonstrate the perfect harmony that exists between my youthful efforts and my matured conceptions.

This complete continuity of thought is disguised by the exceptional magnitude of my task, and obscured by the analytical habits of our day, so unfavorable to any comprehensive judgment. All but those who grasp the necessary connection between the philosophic basis and the religious superstructure must regard the two portions of my career as divergent. The fact, therefore, that my second life simply realized the aim that I proposed to myself in early life requires to be made clear. This the present Appendix is calculated to do, since it proves, that from the outset, I endeavored to found that new spiritual power, of which I now lay the basis. As the final result of my early essays, I was led to perceive that the social operation presupposed an intellectual elaboration, since without this the doctrine required to terminate the Occidental anarchy could not be solidly built up. For this reason I devoted the first half of my career to constructing, out of the materials supplied by the sciences, a truly positive philosophy, this being the only possible basis of a universal religion. The theoretic foundation being thus laid, the residue of my life was with good reason devoted to that social aim, which at first I had imagined was accessible without any intellectual preparation.

Besides the natural difficulty of comprehending so vast a scheme, antipathies also often interfere with a just perception of the intimate relation between my “System of Positive Polity” and “System of Positive Philosophy.” Notwithstanding the desire generally felt for the termination of the Occidental Revolution, active sympathies exist, especially among litterateurs, with the absence of discipline that is characteristic of our anarchic condition. Individual pretensions are wounded by the institution of a priesthood, bound by its office to insist on the observation of rules affecting public and even private life—rules, too, that are inflexible, since they always admit of verification. Hence a disposition to regard my religious construction as being at variance with its philosophic basis, the intellectual attractions of which were unalloyed by any such drawback. This Appendix, however, will demonstrate the inconsistency of all who, adopting the positive philosophy, reject those social applications that I announced from the outset. Whether their attitude springs from incapacity to grasp my conceptions in their entirety or from regret for the cessation of the religious interregnum, their speculative adhesion to the new synthesis renders it incumbent on them to admit its legitimate development. The political system, far from being opposed to my philosophy, is so completely its outcome that the latter was created as the basis of the former, and of this the proof is supplied by the present Appendix.

Keeping this object in view, those essays alone are preserved that reveal my characteristic aspirations, all such being set aside as betray the unfortunate personal influence that overshadowed my earliest efforts. From these artificial productions I extract only two unmistakable indications of my constant tendency towards the positive religion. In 1817 a publication of mine, otherwise without value, contained the characteristic maxim: Everything is relative; this is the only absolute principle. A second indication of the same nature, as decisive but more fully expanded, is furnished in an essay of the year 1818 where I treated the liberty of the press as a means of securing to all citizens a consultative influence. Beyond these references I find nothing worthy of mention in my essays composed before the six now collected for publication. I therefore disavow any other edition, and I have destroyed the unpublished materials.

The first essay was written, in July 1819, for the Censor—the only French periodical that posterity will deem noteworthy—but was never inserted. I publish it here, partly as proving that, even at one and twenty, I was tending towards the separation of the two powers, partly because the views presented are still useful. . . .

The third essay, published in May 1822, and containing the fundamental discovery of sociological laws, decisively indicated my philosophic and social tendencies. Its appropriate title, as here given, sufficiently discloses the intimate combination of the scientific and political points of view that had hitherto occupied my mind to an equal degree though separately. This decisive effort was first only published in one hundred copies gratuitously distributed as proofs. When reproducing it in 1824, with some additions of secondary importance in an impression of one thousand copies, I thought it right to add to its special title that of “System of Positive Polity”—a title premature indeed but rightly indicating the scope of my labors. The promise in my earliest years of that systematization that the present treatise could alone realize being thus evident, no one can ignore the unity of my career. . . .

Separation of Opinions from Aspirations
(First Essay, 1819)

Rulers would gladly have it taken for granted that they alone can see aright in politics, and consequently are entitled to a monopoly of opinion on such matters. They have doubtless their own reasons for speaking in this way, while subjects have theirs for refusing assent to a principle that, under every point of view, is wholly absurd. For, on the contrary, rulers, even when honest, are by their position more disqualified from gaining a just and elevated view of general politics, since a continual preoccupation with details incapacitates for correa theory. Should a publicist wish to form large political conceptions, let him rigorously refrain from political office. How can he be both actor and spectator?

But on this question men have run from one excess into another. Opponents of the absurd pretension of rulers to exclusive political wisdom have fostered among subjects the prejudice, less dangerous but equally absurd, that everyone is competent to form, by mere instinct, just views in politics, thus encouraging each citizen to set himself up as a legislator. It is remarkable, as observed by Condorcet, that men deem it ridiculous to affect a knowledge of physics or astronomy, etc., without having studied these sciences, yet believe that anyone can understand political science and possess a firm and decided opinion on its most abstract principles without any necessity for reflection or special study.

This arises, as Condorcet might have added, from politics not having yet become a positive science; for, evidently, when it has become such everyone will understand that the study of the observations and deductions that form its basis is indispensable for its comprehension.

However, in order to reconcile all, and exclude this prejudice without sanctioning the principle of political indifferentism so dear to rulers, it might be well to distinguish, more than is usually done, between opinions and aspirations. It is reasonable, natural, and necessary that every citizen should have political aspirations, since all have an interest in the conduct of social affairs. It is evident, for example, that all citizens who do not belong to the privileged class, and live by the fruit of their labor, must desire liberty, peace, industrial prosperity, economy in public expenditure, and a just employment of the revenue. But a political opinion expresses more than desires. It includes a judgment, for the most part decided and absolute, that these can only be satisfied by particular measures and by no others. Now on this head it is ridiculous and unreasonable to pronounce without special study. The question arises, Is such a measure or institution fitted to effect a given end? Evidently the reply involves a series of reflections that call for a particular examination, failing which the end proposed may be deemed attainable by means capable of producing an exactly opposite effect. Thus, many people, who sincerely desire liberty and peace, have, nevertheless, notions as to the means of securing these blessings so erroneous that, if put in practice, they must lead to disorder and arbitrary power.

Two important consequences in politics follow, as I believe, from this separation of opinions and aspirations.

Firstly, taking the view above suggested, and regarding unenlightened men as confounding in their political estimates the end and the means, it will be seen that a greater uniformity exists than is commonly imagined in the political aspirations of a nation. In France, for example, among those who profess retrograde opinions, there are a few only, belonging to the privileged classes, who from conviction truly desire the re-establishment of ancient institutions. The majority at bottom, with the rest of the world, wish for liberty, peace, and economy. The association of this desire with the idea of the feudal regime arises simply from their regarding it as the only means adapted to secure the above ends.

In the second place, the above separation determines, as it appears to me, the share in the government that rightly belongs to the mass of the people. The public alone should indicate the end, because though it may not always know what is really wanted, it perfectly understands its own wishes, and no one else is entitled to dictate these.

When, however, public opinion has once clearly indicated the end, the consideration of the measures for effecting it exclusively belongs to scientific politicians. It would be absurd for the masses to reason about them. The business of the public is to form aspirations; that of publicists to propose measures; that of rulers to realize them. The failure to distinguish these three functions must, in a greater or less degree, cause confusion.

In a word, when politics shall have taken the rank of a positive science, the public should and must accord to publicists the same confidence in their department that it now concedes to astronomers in astronomy, to physicians in medicine, etc.; with this difference, however—that the public will be exclusively entitled to point out the end and aim of the work.

Such confidence, attended as it has been, with most serious disadvantages, while politics has remained vague, mysterious, devoid of principle—in a word, theological—will, so soon as it has been transformed into a positive science, be accompanied by no greater evil than the confidence that we daily and fearlessly accord to the physician, even in matters of life and death.

When this transformation has been effected, the submission due to reason will be perfectly reconciled with the precautions needful against arbitrary power.

Plan of the Scientific Operations Necessary for Reorganizing Society
(Third Essay, 1822)

Introduction

A social system in its decline, a new system arrived at maturity and approaching its completion—such is the fundamental character that the general progress of civilization has assigned to the present epoch. In conformity with this state of things, two movements, differing in their nature, agitate society—one a movement of disorganization, the other of reorganization. By the former, considered apart, society is hurried towards a profound moral and political anarchy, which appears to menace it with a near and inevitable dissolution. By the latter it is guided to the definitive social condition of the human race, that best suited to its nature, and in which all progressive movements should receive their completest development and most direct application. In the coexistence of these two opposed tendencies consists the grand crisis now experienced by the most civilized nations; and this can be understood only when viewed under both aspects.

From the moment when this crisis began to show itself to the present time, the tendency of the ancient system to disorganization has predominated, or rather it alone is still plainly manifested. It was in the nature of things that the crisis should begin thus, so that the old system might be sufficiently modified to permit the direct formation of the new social system.

But now that this condition has been fully satisfied and the Catholico-feudal system has lost its power, as far as is possible, until the new system has been inaugurated, the preponderance still maintained by the negative tendency constitutes the greatest obstacle to the progress of civilization and even to the abolition of the ancient system. Its persistence forms the first cause of those terrible and continually renewed shocks by which the crisis is accompanied.

The only way of ending this stormy situation, of staying the anarchy that day by day invades society—in a word, of reducing the crisis to a simple moral movement—consists in inducing the civilized nations to abandon the negative and to adopt an organic attitude; turning all their efforts towards the formation of the new social system as the definitive object of the crisis and that for the attainment of which everything hitherto accomplished is only a preparation.

Such is the prime necessity of the present epoch. Such also is the general scope of my labors and the special aim of this essay, the object of which is to set in motion the forces capable of bringing society into the track of the new system.

A brief examination of the causes that have hitherto hindered and still do hinder society from frankly assuming an organic attitude should naturally precede an exposition of the measures necessary for effecting this object.

The numerous and repeated attempts made by the people and kings to reorganize society prove that the need of such a reorganization is generally felt. But on both sides it is only felt in a vague and imperfect manner. These two kinds of attempts are, though for different reasons, equally vicious. To the present time they have not, nor could they have, produced any real organic result. Far from tending to terminate the crisis, these efforts only contribute to prolong it. Such is the true cause that, in spite of so many efforts, by keeping society in the negative track, leaves it a prey to revolutions.

To establish this fundamental proposition, it is sufficient to take a general view of the attempts at reorganization undertaken by kings and the people.

The error committed by kings is easier to understand. For them the reorganization of society means the re-establishment pure and simple of the feudal and theological system in all its integrity. In their eyes no other means exist of terminating the anarchy that results from the decline of this system.

It would be unphilosophical to regard this view as if it were dictated mainly by the special interests of the governing classes. Chimerical though it be, this idea naturally presented itself to minds seeking, in good faith, a remedy for the existing crisis. They feel in its entire extent the need for a reorganization; but they have not considered the general progress of civilization, and, viewing the present state of affairs under one aspect only, they do not perceive the tendency of society to establish a new system more perfect, and not less harmonious, than the ancient one. In a word, it is natural that this view should be taken by rulers, since from their position they must of necessity perceive more clearly the anarchic state of society and consequently experience more forcibly the necessity for applying a remedy.

This is not the place to insist on the manifest absurdity of such an opinion, which is now universally recognized by the majority of enlightened men. Doubtless kings, while seeking to reconstruct the ancient system, do not comprehend the nature of the present crisis and are far from having measured the magnitude of their enterprise.

The downfall of the feudal and theological system does not spring, as they believe, from recent, solitary, and in some sort accidental causes. Their downfall, in place of being the effect of the crisis, is, on the contrary, its source. The decline of this system has come to pass continuously during the preceding centuries, by reason of a series of modifications, independent of the human will, to which all classes of society contributed, and of which kings themselves have often been the first agents and most eager promoters. In a word, it was the necessary consequence of the progress of civilization.

In order then to re-establish the ancient system, it would not be sufficient to push society back to the epoch when the existing crisis began to reveal itself. For, even supposing this could be done, which it could not, we should have merely replaced the body politic in the situation that necessitated the crisis. Retracing past ages, it would be requisite to repair, one by one, all the losses suffered by the ancient system during six centuries in comparison with which all that it has lost for the last thirty years is of no importance.

No other mode of effecting this would be possible but to annihilate all the results of civilization that have caused this decline.

Thus, for example, it would be absurd to assume that the eighteenth-century philosophy—itself the direct cause of the downfall of the ancient system considered in its spiritual aspects—could be destroyed unless we also assumed the annihilation of the sixteenth century, of which the philosophy of the last century is only the consequence and development. But, as the Reformation of Luther is, in its turn, simply a necessary result of the progress of the sciences of observation introduced into Europe by the Arabs, the re-establishment of the ancient system would not have been secured unless the positive sciences had been also suppressed.

In like manner, under temporal aspects, we should be led, step by step, to the necessity for replacing the industrial classes in a state of servitude, since in the last resort the enfranchisement of the commons is the first and general cause of the decline of the feudal system. Finally such an enterprise is set in its true light by this reflection, that after overcoming so many difficulties, the least of which taken by itself surpasses the power of man, we should have gained nothing but the postponement of the definitive fall of the ancient system by thus obliging society to recommence its destruction, since the principle of progressive civilization inherent in human nature would not have been extinguished.

It is manifest that no person could entertain a project that is monstrous, whether we consider its magnitude or its absurdity. Man, in spite of himself, belongs to his epoch. Those who oppose, as they believe, the greatest resistance to the progress of civilization unconsciously obey its irresistible influence, nay themselves second it. . . .

The manner in which the people have hitherto understood the reorganization of society is no less erroneous than that adopted by kings, though in a different way. Their error, however, is more excusable, since it lies in a misconception of the new system towards which the progress of civilization transports them, though its nature has not, as yet, been clearly determined; while kings pursue an enterprise the entire absurdity of which is plainly demonstrable, even by a superficial study of the past. In a word, kings are at variance with facts, the people with principles, the last being always more difficult to grasp. But it is much more important to eradicate the misconception of the people than that of kings, because the former constitutes an essential obstacle to the progress of civilization, and alone gives some show of reason to the latter.

The characteristic view that predominates in the popular mind as to the mode of reorganizing society indicates a profound ignorance of the fundamental conditions nece...