Objectivity In Science – Is This Even Possible?
Another exploration of Goethe’s scientific methodology.
A few months ago I wrote a piece about the connections between trees, plants, and fungi and the scientists who have researched this and who have suggested that trees, for example, communicate among each other. As a proponent of connectedness, this made total sense to me, almost to the degree of “Duh, what took them so long”.
The concept has its critics, however: scientists such as Justine Karst, mycologist and Assistant Professor at the University of Alberta, Jason Hoeksema of the University of Mississippi, and Melanie Jones, a biologist at the University of British Columbia are skeptical of the conclusions their colleagues have reached.1 In particular, they question the symbiotic relationship and cooperation between trees and plants and fungi that scientists like Suzanne Simard have suggested. This contradicts the evolutionary theory of natural selection which is based on the struggle for existence, they claim. It is deceptive anthropomorphism to posit that non-humans could care for each other or collaborate.
I emphatically disagree. Sure, trees don’t “whisper” to each other in a way that resembles human communication. Such an assumption is indeed ‘anthropomorphism’ – the attribution of human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities. But to deny that they have their own way of sharing information etc., entirely different from ours and therefore not easily perceptible to us, seems narrow-minded and somewhat hubristic.
This controversy seems like a good way to lead into another article about Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s scientific methodology (Here is the earlier one, in case you missed it). What he adds to the analytic, rational way of doing science is a complementary style which requires careful observation of the phenomenon. It includes and changes the observer, leading to an attitude towards nature more grounded in respect and responsibility.
To illustrate his way of examining phenomena, let’s look at some parts of Goethe’s Theory of Color.
Goethe’s long and involved preoccupation with the laws of light and color grew out of his interest in the arts: he was convinced that all great works of art are brought forth according to true and natural laws. After about ten years of living and working in Weimar/Germany as privy councilor (as well as friend and chief advisor) for Duke Carl August, Goethe felt that he needed some recreational time and in 1786 he took off for Italy. He had become immensely famous as the author of the novel The Sorrows of Young Werther and traveled incognito! Although fairly uncomplicated today, an overland trip from Germany to Italy must have been an adventurous undertaking at Goethe’s time: riding in a horse-drawn carriage on unpaved roads, crossing the alps via the Brenner Pass. What a remarkable experience.
The journey to Italy gave Goethe the opportunity to visit some of the greatest Italian masterpieces. As usual, his mind was not satisfied with mere esthetical enjoyment but raised questions about the nature of color combination, the use of light and dark, the reason for the inner experience of harmony when certain colors were put together. Neither artists nor scientists, however, could provide him with satisfactory answers. Artists could tell him much concerning composition, but when it came to color, the use of it seemed arbitrary. After his return to Weimar, Goethe studied several scientific works on color, based on Newton’s theory of white light being a composite of colored rays which become visible through refraction. This mechanical view which considered light only as a physical substance was of no value to Goethe’s inquiries. He finally decided to conduct his own observations and experiments, in order to uncover the truth about color. For this purpose, he borrowed some optical equipment, including prisms, from privy councilor Büttner of Jena, but was delayed with other work for several months. When a messenger from Büttner finally demanded the return of the instruments, Goethe was ready to give them back, but pulled out one prism in order to see Newton’s colors at least once. He looked through the prism at the white walls, expecting to see the colors of the rainbow, but, to his surprise, the walls remained white. Only when he directed the prism to the window, with its dark frame in sharp contrast to the in-streaming light, the liveliest colors appeared. Right away, Goethe realized the important role of darkness in the formation of color, and he exclaimed: “Newton is wrong!” The messenger had to return empty-handed, while Goethe embarked upon his exploration of the realm of light and color, which occupied him for over forty years.
Before describing his experiments with prisms and plates of black and white, we need to keep Goethe’s understanding of light in mind. It is not a “thing” consisting of particles but a living entity. Similarly, darkness is not simply the absence of light but something active in its own right. The interplay between light and darkness brings forth the colors: “Colors are the deeds of light, what it does and what it endures”, Goethe writes in his Preface to Theory of Color.
If possible, acquire a prism so you can follow along with his exercises.
In the first paragraphs of his Contributions to Optics (two short essays written earlier), Goethe encourages his reader to look through a prism at various objects, and gradually become accustomed to the arising colors. He warns his reader that the experience can initially be painful to some people’s eyes. This made me wonder if our eyes, so used to artificial light and glare, have become less sensitive.
After the initial wonder and amazement at seeing the colors, which creates a warm soul-mood, we develop an interest, a “desire to discover their laws and to find [our] way out of this brilliant labyrinth.” (Contributions to Optics). What began as entertainment and pleasure now moves into the realm of serious occupation. Several black-and-white plates help us to perform a set of experiments, all based on Goethe’s observation that color arises from the meeting of light and darkness.
We examine the conditions under which certain colors arise, the relationship of light to darkness necessary for the appearance of particular colors. With Goethe’s guidance, we discover two basic conditions or archetypal phenomena (Urphaenomene, as he called them), beyond which nothing more can be found out: when a black surface is above a white surface, red, orange, and yellow appear at the edge; when white is placed above black, we see blue and violet. Thus, we perceive two opposing sets of colors: the warm colors of yellow, orange, and red when darkness is above light, and the cool colors, blue and violet, when light is above darkness. The same archetypal phenomena can be perceived in nature: in the middle of the day, the light of the sun radiates into the dark cosmos behind it, (or, one could equally say, darkness shines through the light-filled air), and the cool colors arise. In the morning and in the evening, the sun’s rays are darkened by the dense atmosphere surrounding the earth (Goethe calls this turbidity), and we see striking oranges and reds.
When we look through the prism at a narrow band of white on a black background, both sets of colors appear: red and yellow on the upper edge, blue and violet on the lower, with a thin strip of white in-between. Moving the prism farther away from the paper, we see the bands of color widen until the yellow and blue overlap to form green, and white totally disappears. We now have the Newtonian color spectrum in front of us, which Goethe called “Spectrum of Light”.
His “Spectrum of Darkness”, not included with Newton’s colors, appears when we place a thin strip of black on white paper. When we look at this through the prism, we see blue and violet on top, red and yellow at the bottom; instead of black, we see a delicate magenta appear in the middle.
Again, it is important to remember that Goethe’s concept of light differed greatly from Newton’s. Whereas Newton was concerned with the physical aspect of light, the way it was conceived by Goethe, and contrasted with darkness as its opposite, is a purely mental/spiritual2 entity. This archetypal polarity finds expression within the colors as well. Goethe states that only yellow and blue are absolutely pure colors; they are opposite, without contradicting each other. When intensified, for example. painted with many layers of transparent watercolors, both of these colors take on a reddish shimmer: yellow gradually turns into orange, and blue becomes more purple. Yellow and blue, from their opposite poles, strive towards union. Red is the active mediator between the two poles, the highest of all colors which “contains partly actu, partly potentia all the other colors.” (Contributions to Optics). Green, on the other hand, results from mixing, rather than uniting, blue and yellow. It therefore has a more passive and calming quality. With great precision, Goethe explains the characteristics of the various intermediate colors, and the laws according to which some colors appear harmonious when put together. When he describes the moral qualities of colors, it becomes clear that he is not talking about mere pigments, but about entities which have an archetypal character of their own.
The primal phenomenon of two opposite polar forces which manifest as light and dark for example is for Goethe the very foundation of the whole universe. In addition to Newton’s gravity, Goethe imagined the earth to be surrounded by a field of force in every aspect opposite to the earth’s gravitational field, which he called levity. This was the only possible explanation for the miraculous fact that every plant and tree grows up, toward the light. To explain natural phenomena only through mechanistic formulae was never enough for Goethe. With imaginative thinking, he was able to grasp the living Idea, the archetypal phenomenon not as something transcendent, “above” or “beyond” the sense-perceptible world, but as the creative impulse within it. This view does not oppose the laws of physical science, it is rather an integral extension of it.
When I have fully realized that I am the world, I am no longer limited by the prison of personal likes and dislikes, and I can turn my attention to what goes on all around me. Goethe’s methodology offers the tools to practice this, and one doesn’t even have to be a scientist.
There is no good translation for the German concept of “Geist”. “Geisteswissenschaften” f.e., the study of philosophy, linguistics, literature etc., is commonly translated with “humanities”. It doesn’t have the religious overtone of spirit, nor does it mean “ghost” in this context.
Superb