cc: Paul Haeder; Derrick Jensen; Barbara Ehrenreich; Cynthia McKinney
Not to my contemporaries, not to my compatriots — to
mankind I commit my now completed work in the con-
fidence that it will not be without value for them, even
if this should be late recognized, as is commonly the lot
of what is good. For it cannot have been for the passing
generation, engrossed with the delusion of the moment,
that my mind, almost against my will, has uninterruptedly
stuck to its work through the course of a long life. And
while the lapse of time has not been able to make me
doubt the worth of my work, neither has the lack of
sympathy ; for I constantly saw the false and the bad,
and finally the absurd and senseless, 1 stand in universal
admiration and honor, and I bethought myself that if
it were not the case those who are capable of recognizing
the genuine and right are so rare that we may look
for them in vain for some twenty years, then those who
are capable of producing it could not be so few that
their works afterwards form an exception to the perish-
ableness of earthly things ; and thus would be lost the
reviving prospect of posterity which every one who sets
before himself a high aim requires to strengthen him.
Whoever seriously takes up and pursues an object that
does not lead to material advantages, must not count on
the sympathy of his contemporaries. For the most part
he will see, however, that in the meantime the superficial
aspect of that object becomes current in the world, and
enjoys its day ; and this is as it should be. The object
itself must be pursued for its own sake, otherwise it
cannot be attained ; for any design or intention is always
dangerous to insight. Accordingly, as the whole history
of literature proves, everything of real value required a
long time to gain acceptance, especially if it belonged to
the class of instructive, not entertaining, works; and
meanwhile the false nourished. For to combine the
object with its superficial appearance is difficult, when it
is not impossible. Indeed that is just the curse of this
world of want and need, that everything must serve and
slave for these; and therefore it is not so constituted
that any noble and sublime effort, like the endeavour
after light and truth, can prosper unhindered and exist
for its own sake. But even if such an endeavour has
once succeeded in asserting itself, and the conception of
it has thus been introduced, material interests and per-
sonal aims will immediately take possession of it, in
order to make it their tool or their mask. Accordingly,
when Kant brought philosophy again into repute, it had
soon to become the tool of political aims from above, and
personal aims from below ; although, strictly speaking,
not philosophy itself, but its ghost, that passes for it
This should not really astonish us; for the incredibly
large majority of men are by nature quite incapable of
any but material aims, indeed they can conceive no
others. Thus the pursuit of truth alone is far too lofty
and eccentric an endeavour for us to expect all or many,
or indeed even a few, faithfully to take part in. If
yet we see, as for example at present in Germany [America],
a remarkable activity, a general moving, writing, and talk-
ing with reference to philosophical subjects, we may
confidently assume that, in spite of solemn looks and
assurances, only real, not ideal aims, are the actual
primum mobile, the concealed motive of such a move-
ment ; that it is personal, official, ecclesiastical, political,
in short, material ends that are really kept in view, and
consequently that mere party ends set the pens of so many
pretended philosophers in such rapid motion. Thus some
design or intention, not the desire of insight, is the guiding
star of these disturbers of the peace, and truth is certainly
the last thing that is thought of in the matter. It finds
no partisans ; rather, it may pursue its way as silently
and unheeded through such a philosophical riot as
through the winter night of the darkest century bound
in the rigid faith of the church, when it was communicated
only to a few alchemists as esoteric learning, or entrusted
it may be only to the parchment. Indeed I might say
that no time can be more unfavorable to philosophy
than that in which it is shamefully misused, on the one
hand to further political objects, on the other as a means
of livelihood. Or is it believed that somehow, with such
effort and such a turmoil, the truth, at which it by no
means aims, will also be brought to light ? Truth is no
prostitute, that throws herself away upon those who do
not desire her ; she is rather so coy a beauty that he who
sacrifices everything to her cannot even then be sure of
her favour.
If Governments make philosophy a means of further-
ing political ends, learned men see in philosophical pro-
fessorships a trade that nourishes the outer man just like
any other ; therefore they crowd after them in the assur-
ance of their good intentions, that is, the purpose of sub-
serving these ends. And they keep their word: not
truth, not clearness, not Plato, not Aristotle, but the ends
they were appointed to serve are their guiding star, and
become at once the criterion of what is true, valuable,
and to be respected, and of the opposites of these. What-
ever, therefore, does not answer these ends, even if it were
the most important and extraordinary things in their
department, is either condemned, or, when this seems
hazardous, suppressed by being unanimously ignored.
Look only at their zeal against pantheism ; will any sim-
pleton believe that it proceeds from conviction ? And, in
general, how is it possible that philosophy, degraded to
the position of a means of making one’s bread, can fail
to degenerate into sophistry ? Just because this is in-
fallibly the case, and the rule, ” I sing the song of him
whose bread I eat,” has always held good, the making of
money by philosophy was regarded by the ancients as
the characteristic of the sophists. But we have still to
add this, that since throughout this world nothing is to
be expected, can be demanded, or is to be had for gold
but mediocrity, we must be contented with it here also.
Consequently we see in all the German [American] universities the
cherished mediocrity striving to produce the philosophy
which as yet is not there to produce, at its own expense
and indeed in accordance with a predetermined standard
and aim, a spectacle at which it would be almost cruel
to mock.
While thus philosophy has long been obliged to serve
entirely as a means to public ends on the one side and
private ends on the other, I have pursued the course of
my thought, undisturbed by them, for more than thirty
years, and simply because I was obliged to do so and
could not help myself, from an instinctive impulse, which
was, however, supported by the confidence that anything
true one may have thought, and anything obscure one
may have thrown light upon, will appeal to any think-
ing mind, no matter when it comprehends it, and will
rejoice and comfort it. To such an one we speak as
those who are like us have spoken to us, and have so
become our comfort in the wilderness of this life. Mean-
while the object is pursued on its own account and for its
own sake. Now it happens curiously enough with philo-
sophical meditations, that precisely that which one has
thought out and investigated for oneself, is afterwards of
benefit to others ; not that, however, which was originally
intended for others. The former is confessedly nearest
in character to perfect honesty ; for a man does not seek
to deceive himself, nor does he offer himself empty husks;
so that all sophistication and all mere talk is omitted,
and consequently every sentence that is written at once
repays the trouble of reading it….Working then in this spirit, and
always seeing the false and bad in universal acceptance, yea, bom-
bast and charlatanism in the highest honor, I have
long renounced the approbation of my contemporaries. It
is impossible that an age which for twenty years has
applauded a Hegel, that intellectual Caliban, as the
greatest of the philosophers, so loudly that it echoes
through the whole of Europe [and America], could make him who has
looked on at that desirous of its approbation. It has no
more crowns of honour to bestow ; its applause is pros-
tituted, and its censure has no significance. That I mean
what I say is attested by the fact that if I had in any
way sought the approbation of my contemporaries, I
would have had to strike out a score of passages which
entirely contradict all their opinions, and indeed must in
part be offensive to them. But I would count it a crime
to sacrifice a single syllable to that approbation. My
guiding star has, in all seriousness, been truth. Following
it, I could first aspire only to my own approbation, entirely
averted from an age deeply degraded as regards all higher
intellectual efforts, and a national literature demoralized
even to the exceptions, a literature in which the aid of
combining lofty words with paltry significance has reached
its height. I can certainly never escape from the errors
and weaknesses which, in my case as in every one else’s,
necessarily belong to my nature ; but I will not increase
them by unworthy accommodations.
As regards this second edition, first of all I am glad
to say that after five and twenty years I find nothing to
retract; so that my fundamental convictions have only
been confirmed, as far as concerns
Not to my contemporaries, not to my compatriots — to
mankind I commit my now completed work in the con-
fidence that it will not be without value for them, even
if this should be late recognized, as is commonly the lot
of what is good. For it cannot have been for the passing
generation, engrossed with the delusion of the moment,
that my mind, almost against my will, has uninterruptedly
stuck to its work through the course of a long life. And
while the lapse of time has not been able to make me
doubt the worth of my work, neither has the lack of
sympathy ; for I constantly saw the false and the bad,
and finally the absurd and senseless, 1 stand in universal
admiration and honor, and I bethought myself that if
it were not the case those who are capable of recognizing
the genuine and right are so rare that we may look
for them in vain for some twenty years, then those who
are capable of producing it could not be so few that
their works afterwards form an exception to the perish-
ableness of earthly things ; and thus would be lost the
reviving prospect of posterity which every one who sets
before himself a high aim requires to strengthen him.
Whoever seriously takes up and pursues an object that
does not lead to material advantages, must not count on
the sympathy of his contemporaries. For the most part
he will see, however, that in the meantime the superficial
aspect of that object becomes current in the world, and
enjoys its day ; and this is as it should be. The object
itself must be pursued for its own sake, otherwise it
cannot be attained ; for any design or intention is always
dangerous to insight. Accordingly, as the whole history
of literature proves, everything of real value required a
long time to gain acceptance, especially if it belonged to
the class of instructive, not entertaining, works; and
meanwhile the false nourished. For to combine the
object with its superficial appearance is difficult, when it
is not impossible. Indeed that is just the curse of this
world of want and need, that everything must serve and
slave for these; and therefore it is not so constituted
that any noble and sublime effort, like the endeavour
after light and truth, can prosper unhindered and exist
for its own sake. But even if such an endeavour has
once succeeded in asserting itself, and the conception of
it has thus been introduced, material interests and per-
sonal aims will immediately take possession of it, in
order to make it their tool or their mask. Accordingly,
when Kant brought philosophy again into repute, it had
soon to become the tool of political aims from above, and
personal aims from below ; although, strictly speaking,
not philosophy itself, but its ghost, that passes for it
This should not really astonish us; for the incredibly
large majority of men are by nature quite incapable of
any but material aims, indeed they can conceive no
others. Thus the pursuit of truth alone is far too lofty
and eccentric an endeavour for us to expect all or many,
or indeed even a few, faithfully to take part in. If
yet we see, as for example at present in Germany [America], a
remarkable activity, a general moving, writing, and talk-
ing with reference to philosophical subjects, we may
confidently assume that, in spite of solemn looks and
assurances, only real, not ideal aims, are the actual
primum mobile, the concealed motive of such a move-
ment ; that it is personal, official, ecclesiastical, political,
in short, material ends that are really kept in view, and
consequently that mere party ends set the pens of so many
pretended philosophers in such rapid motion. Thus some
design or intention, not the desire of insight, is the guiding
star of these disturbers of the peace, and truth is certainly
the last thing that is thought of in the matter. It finds
no partisans ; rather, it may pursue its way as silently
and unheeded through such a philosophical riot as
through the winter night of the darkest century bound
in the rigid faith of the church, when it was communicated
only to a few alchemists as esoteric learning, or entrusted
it may be only to the parchment. Indeed I might say
that no time can be more unfavorable to philosophy
than that in which it is shamefully misused, on the one
hand to further political objects, on the other as a means
of livelihood. Or is it believed that somehow, with such
effort and such a turmoil, the truth, at which it by no
means aims, will also be brought to light ? Truth is no
prostitute, that throws herself away upon those who do
not desire her ; she is rather so coy a beauty that he who
sacrifices everything to her cannot even then be sure of
her favour.
If Governments make philosophy a means of further-
ing political ends, learned men see in philosophical pro-
fessorships a trade that nourishes the outer man just like
any other ; therefore they crowd after them in the assur-
ance of their good intentions, that is, the purpose of sub-
serving these ends. And they keep their word: not
truth, not clearness, not Plato, not Aristotle, but the ends
they were appointed to serve are their guiding star, and
become at once the criterion of what is true, valuable,
and to be respected, and of the opposites of these. What-
ever, therefore, does not answer these ends, even if it were
the most important and extraordinary things in their
department, is either condemned, or, when this seems
hazardous, suppressed by being unanimously ignored.
Look only at their zeal against pantheism ; will any sim-
pleton believe that it proceeds from conviction ? And, in
general, how is it possible that philosophy, degraded to
the position of a means of making one’s bread, can fail
to degenerate into sophistry ? Just because this is in-
fallibly the case, and the rule, ” I sing the song of him
whose bread I eat,” has always held good, the making of
money by philosophy was regarded by the ancients as
the characteristic of the sophists. But we have still to
add this, that since throughout this world nothing is to
be expected, can be demanded, or is to be had for gold
but mediocrity, we must be contented with it here also.
Consequently we see in all the German [American] universities the
cherished mediocrity striving to produce the philosophy
which as yet is not there to produce, at its own expense
and indeed in accordance with a predetermined standard
and aim, a spectacle at which it would be almost cruel
to mock.
While thus philosophy has long been obliged to serve
entirely as a means to public ends on the one side and
private ends on the other, I have pursued the course of
my thought, undisturbed by them, for more than thirty
years, and simply because I was obliged to do so and
could not help myself, from an instinctive impulse, which
was, however, supported by the confidence that anything
true one may have thought, and anything obscure one
may have thrown light upon, will appeal to any think-
ing mind, no matter when it comprehends it, and will
rejoice and comfort it. To such an one we speak as
those who are like us have spoken to us, and have so
become our comfort in the wilderness of this life. Mean-
while the object is pursued on its own account and for its
own sake. Now it happens curiously enough with philo-
sophical meditations, that precisely that which one has
thought out and investigated for oneself, is afterwards of
benefit to others ; not that, however, which was originally
intended for others. The former is confessedly nearest
in character to perfect honesty ; for a man does not seek
to deceive himself, nor does he offer himself empty husks;
so that all sophistication and all mere talk is omitted,
and consequently every sentence that is written at once
repays the trouble of reading it….Working then in this spirit, and
always seeing the false and bad in universal acceptance, yea, bom-
bast and charlatanism in the highest honor, I have
long renounced the approbation of my contemporaries.
… [Approbation] has no more crowns of honour to bestow ;
its applause is prostituted, and its censure has no significance.
That I mean what I say is attested by the fact that if I had in any
way sought the approbation of my contemporaries, I
would have had to strike out a score of passages which
entirely contradict all their opinions, and indeed must in
part be offensive to them. But I would count it a crime
to sacrifice a single syllable to that approbation. My
guiding star has, in all seriousness, been truth. Following
it, I could first aspire only to my own approbation, entirely
averted from an age deeply degraded as regards all higher
intellectual efforts, and a national literature demoralized
even to the exceptions, a literature in which the aid of
combining lofty words with paltry significance has reached
its height. I can certainly never escape from the errors
and weaknesses which, in my case as in every one else’s,
necessarily belong to my nature ; but I will not increase
them by unworthy accommodations.
As regards this second edition, first of all I am glad
to say that after five and twenty years I find nothing to
retract; so that my fundamental convictions have only
been confirmed, as far as concerns myself at least.
from Preface to the Second Edition of The World as Will and Idea,
by
Arthur Schopenhauer
NOT IN COPYRIGHT; exact publication date unknown (circa 1910)
ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY K. B. HALDANE,
M.A. AND J. KEMP, M.A.
LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. L2
BROADWAY HOUSE. 68-74 CARTER LANE, E.C.
Original free online at: http://www.archive.org/details/theworldaswillan01schouoft