The Philosophy of Auguste Comte

by Lucien Lévy-Bruhl

[CHAPTER IV]
SCIENCE

We may admit, with Aristotle, that curiosity is natural to man, and that we are inclined to inquire into things for the pleasure of knowing them. But it must be admitted, adds Comte, that this inclination is one of the least active and the least imperative in our nature. It must have been still less so in the beginning of mankind’s development; and it was, in any case, much weaker than the inclination to laziness, or than the repugnance to accept anything new. It has therefore been necessary, in order that man might emerge from his primitive intellectual torpor, that the activity of his mind should be induced and even compelled to exert itself by pressing circumstances. Such were undoubtedly the necessities of hunting, the dangers of war, and in a general way, the desire to avoid suffering and death.

Moreover, the knowledge which the human mind acquires at first is only very imperfectly real; for theological philosophy furnishes the mind with its first conceptions. Man begins by supposing everywhere wills like his own, and the world which surrounds him is peopled with gods or fetishes. Nevertheless, from this first period, the rudiments of a more positive knowledge already appear. In every order of phenomena some are very simple and of such striking regularity, that evidently no arbitrary will intervenes in their working. Man must very quickly have had a “real” idea of these phenomena. In all the other cases instead of observing the phenomena he imagined the mode of their production; but here he observed the sequences and concomitances which he could not resist; and he regulated his conduct upon this observation. From this humble beginning science came into being.

In this way, far from opposing scientific thought to common thought, as most of the philosophers do, Comte, without disregarding the special character of one and of the other shows that both spring from the same source, and that they do not present any essential point of difference. However abstract and however elevated science may become, it always remains, according to him, a “simple special prolongation” of good sense, of common sense and of “universal wisdom.” The character of “positivity,” by which scientific knowledge is distinguished from theological and metaphysical conceptions, belongs also to popular wisdom. Like this wisdom, which the practical necessities of life have formed, science abstains from searching after the causes, the ends, the substances, and whatever is beyond the reach of verification by experience. Its efforts bear exclusively upon the laws of coexistence and of succession which govern the phenomena. And again it is from this wisdom that it has borrowed the spirit of its positive method, which consists in observing facts and in systematising observations to rise to the concept of laws.

It follows from this that science contains within itself neither its starting-point nor its terminus. Both are given it by “common sense” whence it springs. The starting-point is the spontaneous observation of constant relations between the most simple phenomena. The terminus is the knowledge of these same relations among all given phenomena, as complete and as precise as our requirements demand. Indeed the common sense, or the popular wisdom, is soon baffled by the complexity of phenomena. If we had no other guide we should know very little, and in nearly all cases we should be reduced to a kind of empirical divination. The function of science is to substitute a real knowledge of laws to this divination.

This function would never have been fulfilled if the human mind had not possessed the property of being able to separate theory from practice. Undoubtedly the former proceeds from the latter. As has been said, every science is born from a corresponding art, and from the desire to perfect it. But this perfecting would not have gone very far, if the human mind had never lost sight of it. Happily, man is capable of temporarily forgetting his immediate interests in the pursuit of knowledge. By degrees, from the complexity of concrete cases, he has learnt to disengage the elements common to a whole class of phenomena. He has thus formed the idea of law, or the invariable relation between given phenomena. Beyond the intellectual satisfaction which this knowledge gave him, he found in time applications of it which he would never have imagined beforehand. To quote an example from a civilisation already very advanced, when the Greek geometers patiently applied themselves to the study of conic sections, did they suspect that their labours would one day serve in calculating certain astronomical determinations upon which the safety of mariners would depend?

In this way, science, utilitarian in its origin, since it sprang from the practical needs of man, utilitarian in its end, since it aims at providing for those needs, has nevertheless been unable to develop itself and will be unable still to do so in the future, except by neglecting this very utility. Better to fulfil its destiny, it must provisionally forget it; and it will be the more useful, in the long run, in proportion as it will have been the more disinterested. We never know, a priori, if a discovery which finds no application to-day, combined later with another one, will not be of capital interest for mankind. Therefore it is of the highest importance that theoretical order should remain clearly distinct from the practical order.

That is why Comte regarded the appearance of a sacerdotal class, specially occupied with speculative research, as a decisive moment in history of humanity. It matters little that these researches should have remained chimerical and absurd during long centuries. The essential point was that the human mind should form and keep the habit of disinterested speculation, that it should not rest content with immediately applicable knowledge, and that it should exert itself towards a theoretical conception of nature, however simple at first that conception was bound to be.

Thus, science has, properly speaking, two roots, the one practical, the other theoretical. If it originated in the primitive arts, it is no less closely allied with primitive philosophy. It still bears features which enable us to discern this twofold filiation. On the one hand, it has remained speculative as was the theological philosophy which first dominated over the human mind. Only this speculation has gradually abandoned everything except the laws of phenomena, and it has ended by undermining the theological conceptions from which it came. On the other hand, science has remained real, like the popular wisdom which gave it birth. But, while dealing with given phenomena in experience, it has developed in the direction of theory. Instead of only considering scenes of concrete objects, it has resolved them into their elements. A more and more powerful analysis has raised it to the consideration of laws more and more general and abstract. Thus, while the popular wisdom is limited to empirical generalisations, a science such as, for instance, astronomy discovers the law which governs the whole of an immense order of phenomena.

From this general idea of science the following consequences at once follow: