The Henri Bortoft phenomenon

Henri Bortoft is a physicist and former student of David Bohm with an interest in continental philosophy. He is also a teacher at the Schumacher College in Britain. Bortoft's most well-known book is "The Wholeness of Nature: Goethe's Way of Science". His recent oeuvre "Taking Appearance Seriously" covers much of the same ground, but the emphasis has shifted from Goethe to Gadamer. It's also shorter than the Goethe book.

I originally assumed that Bortoft was an Anthroposophist, since both his works are published by Floris Books, an Anthroposophical press. In "Taking Appearance Seriously", Bortoft clarifies his relation to Anthroposophy, by stating that he isn't interested in the esoteric speculations of Rudolf Steiner, while regarding Steiner's strictly philosophical works (especially those dealing with Goethe's worldview) as very insightful. Bortoft seems to bemoan the fact that Steiner later left philosophy for somewhat more odd pursuits.

I'm not an expert on the subject-matter of this book, so I can't say if Bortoft's interpretations of Goethe, Heidegger and Gadamer are correct. I suspect that the author's project is to somehow fuse Heideggerian phenomenology with a Romantic evolutionism, using Steiner as a middleman. Nothing wrong with that, per se. I also get the impression that Bortoft's perspective is at bottom spiritual. Although he never explicitly ties his worldview with spirituality, it sounds like a dynamic form of pantheism. Indeed, it makes little sense outside such a context.

The book is difficult to summarize, but its main point is to do away with dualism, including subject-object, being-becoming or essence-appearance. At the same time, Bortoft wants to avoid relativism. To Bortoft, there is no distinction between an objective world "out there" and the way this world appears to us. The appearance (coming-into-being) of phenomena *is* the world. There is nothing beyond it or behind it. But doesn't the world appear differently to different observers? Isn't that relativism? Bortoft answers no: the world actually does appear in various forms and guises, each being equally true, each also being the same world.

The world is always One, but it's a "multiplicity in unity", which necessarily takes different forms. The world isn't a homogenous whole, seen from different perspectives by limited observers. No, it really is ontologically multiple. It's also dynamic, forever becoming and appearing anew. This sounds familiar to students of Hinduism, Buddhism or the ACIM, but Bortoft emphatically does not say that the phenomena we experience are illusions, or only relatively real. On the contrary, the various "worlds" which appear to us are robustly ontologically real, despite being completely different from each other and constantly evolving. A "Western" form of pantheism? At one point, Bortoft's make a positive reference to Ferrer's and Tarnas' "Revisioning Transpersonal Theory", reviewed by me elsewhere.

Bortoft applies his "dynamic way of seeing" to both the multiplicity found in nature, to literature and poetry, and to language. Thus, he rejects the idea that we should be looking for "what the author really intended" when analyzing a novel or a poem. This creates a dualism between the real meaning (forever beyond our grasp) and various interpretations (which are wholly subjective). Rather, a work of literature has multivalent meanings which change and evolve over time, all being equally true. Apparently, this is what Gadamer referred to as "tradition". (As a side point, this makes me wonder what Radical Orthodoxy, with its love for Gadamer, really means when talking about Christian "tradition"? See my review of "Introducing Radical Orthodoxy" by James K. A. Smith.)

I admit that I'm not entirely satisfied with Bortoft's arguments. They are easier to apply to some phenomena than others. It's easy enough to see how this hermeneutic could be applied to poetry, which often uses multivalent or evocative language. It's less obvious how it can be applied to, well, more or less everything else. Thus, when discussing language, Bortoft argues that language makes the world appear - at least to a human, there is no "world" outside language, not because language limits our perspective on a world "out there", but because no world can exist unless made to appear in and through language. Bortoft's example is a deaf and blind girl who felt something cold on her hands, and had a kind of revelatory experience when her teacher spelled the word "water" in her palm. This, evidently, was the appearing of water in her world. But the phenomenon we choose to call "water" clearly existed (and even had physical effects on the subject) already before the naming, making the example feel somewhat awkward. Bortoft also admits at two points in the book that there are bad or erroneous interpretations of literary texts, but how is *that* possible if everything is multiplicity-in-unity? What is the objective criterion, standing above the various interpretations? To Bortoft, plants are an example of the One being many, but there doesn't seem to be any objective criterion for "good" or "bad" plants. At another point, Bortoft says that what is "moral" depends on the situation. Perhaps the One sometimes manifests in a destructive, ridiculous or downright evil way? If so, nobody can claim that a crackpot interpretation of Goethe, the U.S. constitution or the Bible really is bad or wrong!

I'm not saying "Taking Appearance Seriously" is a bad book. It's probably the only readable book on phenomenology of any stripe I've seen. For that reason, I give it four stars. Nor can it be denied that Bortoft makes interesting or even valid points. Sure, the world is "multivalent". (Just look at the bewildering variety of schools within phenomenology!) But how far does the multivalence go? That is the question.

The world according to Albert Linderman

A review of "Why the World Around You Isn´t What It Appears" by Albert Linderman.

I admit that I didn't really like this book, a popularized introduction to the thought of Owen Barfield. Linderman is probably an Anthroposophist, although the back matter doesn't say. Nor does he mention Barfield's connection to Rudolf Steiner and Anthroposophy. He does mention Henri Bortoft, author of two books on Goethe and Gadamer, reviewed by me elsewhere. He also peddles the urban legend that Barfield decisively influenced C.S. Lewis, an idea Barfield himself rejected. The legend is, however, popular among Anthroposophists...

I happen to find many of Barfield's ideas interesting, so I don't necessarily disagree with everything Linderman is saying. The evolution of consciousness, the role of language in shaping our worldview, and the criticism of strict dualism are such interesting notions, although I doubt the evolution of consciousness is as neat and tidy as Barfield (following Steiner) seems to be suggesting.

My main problem with the book (and with Barfield and Bortoft, too) is the contradiction between the idealist idea that "our minds create the world", and the more reasonable idea that our minds "co-create" the world, but that the world is in some sense nevertheless objective.

Sometimes, Linderman takes the second position, as when arguing that Reason exists already before human minds learn to grasp it, or that Thinking precedes both subject and object. Another example is when Linderman argues that the world can be seen from several different perspectives, one of them being the spiritual one, while nevertheless being objectively real. Taking a cue from Barfield, he also regards the mechanistic worldview of modernity as idolatrous, and wants us to break with it, thereby revealing the *real* world. Bingo! So there is a real world, after all, somewhere underneath the modern idols?

However, most of the time, Linderman follows Barfield and Bortoft at their worst, claiming that the only "material" stuff that is real are the subatomic particles of the quantum flux, while objects (such as chairs and tables) are created by our minds through a process of "collective representation". The evolution of consciousness therefore means that *the world itself* is changing. Thus, medieval man didn't just experience the world differently from modern man, the world *really was* different 1000 years ago than it is today. But surely, this is absurd: if medieval man had been sucked into space, he would (of course) die of suffocation, just like modern man, despite imagining space to be nurturing, spiritual and full of meaning... (Perhaps NASA should recruit astronauts from pre-modern cultures in New Guinea?)

Linderman points out (correctly) that we don't see a table "directly", but only through applying a pre-existent concept of a table on a mass of sub-atomic particles. People who were born blind but get their sight restored in old age, don't really "see" a table, or much of anything else, since they lack the concepts necessary to organize the confused jumble of impressions suddenly thrown at their eyes. But this is *not* an argument for a mind-dependent world, but the exact opposite! It's precisely because the world *isn't* mind-dependent, that the formerly blind can't make much sense of it. Why can't they simply create a "collective representation" all their own? It's also ridiculous to suggest that the table isn't really "there", just because some humans don't see it, or don't see it as a table. I can assure you that they will run into the table and hurt themselves, regardless of what "concepts" or "representations" they have... That they won't know what hit them, is just tough. Finally, where does the concept of "table" come from in the first place? Why does this particular messy swarm of quantum particles give rise to a "table", but not to a "chair" or a "philosopher named Barfield"?

These may sound like pretty basic objections, so why do these people nevertheless insist on making the same errors, over and over?

What practical conclusions follow from adopting Barfield's worldview, according to the author? He mentions bio-dynamic farming, which is based on astrology, and various holistic health practices based on meditation, mind-over-matter control of the body, etc. Linderman hopes that a Barfield-inspired vision will lead to a more empathic and harmonious society, more balance between Man and Nature, and a reverential attitude towards life and the cosmos. Following Bortoft and Steiner, the author mentions "Goethean science" as an alternative to modern science. While this is all interesting, it is perhaps a bit too idealistic...

Perhaps that is why some groups of people need to believe that the world is their own "collective representation". A world that really does exist out there, independently of our puny little minds, is a world that doesn't necessarily bow to our wishes and wants. It may take different forms, and be seen from different perspectives, but it's not really ours to command.

For good or for worse, I think that's the only world there is...

Not really about Goethe

Henri Bortoft is a former student of renown quantum physicist David Bohm. He may also be an Anthroposophist. At the very least, he is some kind of "fellow traveller", since his book is published by an Anthroposophical press. Anthroposophy is a spiritual or religious movement, founded about a century ago by Rudolf Steiner. While Bortoft's mentor Bohm wasn't a follower of Steiner, it's nevertheless interesting to note that he did have spiritual interests. Bohm had contacts with Jiddu Krishnamurti. On a funnier note, I suspect that the character Kenneth Flume in Owen Barfield's "Unancestral voice" might be based on Bortoft. Barfield, of course, was an Anthroposophist of long standing.

"The Wholeness of Nature: Goethe's Way of Science" is a difficult book dealing with epistemology, ontology and the philosophy of science. It contains few direct references to Rudolf Steiner. Instead, Bortoft attempts to prove his case by way of Gadamer, Heidegger, Husserl, Cassirer and Bergson. However, many of the lesser known authors quoted are probably Anthroposophists. And yes, he mentions both Bohm and Barfield.

Nominally, the book is an analysis of Goethe's view of science. However, I'm not sure if Bortoft's exegesis of the famous German polymath stand up to closer scrutiny. Indeed, Bortoft admits at several points that his interpretation is unusual. My guess is that the author sees Goethe through the interpretive lens of Steiner, in effect turning the poet into a kind of early Anthroposophist. For instance, it seems that "Goethean science" is really a meditation technique which makes it possible to see the One in the many, something Bortoft dubs "multiplicity in unity". This entirely new way of seeing phenomena is possible only if a special organ of perception is developed within our minds, which once again suggests meditation or even mysticism of some kind.

I admit that I found the book hard to follow. It's not hard to read, quite the contrary. However, the ideas are so unusual and strange that "The Wholeness of Nature" becomes difficult anyway. A large part of the book sounds like a defence of quasi-sollipsist postmodernism, where no objective truths "out there" exists and everything is a matter of perspective. I admit that I find this kind of philosophy extremely annoying! Despite the "pomo" angle, the author does seem to regard a ever-changing, dynamic pantheist world-soul as an objective reality, independent of our perceptions. However, the phenomena of the objective world need to be perceived by a human consciousness to become fully themselves. The phenomena of the natural world are in some sense incomplete without a human participatory consciousness which blends subject and object in the act of perceiving them.

This does sound weirdly anthropocentric. While its true that colours or sounds need a consciousness to be perceived, which raises all kinds of intriguing questions if you believe in God or the World-Soul, why do phenomena need a specifically *human* consciousness to be fulfilled? Why not a bat? Or an angel or elemental, since Steiner believed in such? Of course, this question would be meaningless to orthodox Anthroposophists, who apparently regard a kind of spiritualized human as the progenitor of all living organisms.

"The Wholeness of Nature" also discusses archetypes, Platonic forms and universals. There is an extensive footnote criticizing Darwinian evolution. The author rejects Platonizing or proto-Darwinist interpretations of Goethe's ideas about archetypal plants or leafs. His own interpretation is difficult to follow, but apparently there is no reality "behind" the phenomena. Rather, the world-soul necessarily appears as a multiplicity. Only with the aid of participatory consciousness can we realize that every single phenomenon is wholly an expression of the One, in the same way as every single piece of a hologram contains the entire hologram.

Bortoft discusses the plant archetype at some length, claiming that every species of plant is an expression of a primordial plant, which is "its own explanation" and "cannot be otherwise". This suggests some kind of immutability (at least on the spiritual level). It obviously goes against the grain of Darwinian evolution, which explains all plants "mechanically", by way of mutation and natural selection. The Anthroposophical explanations are bound to be much more esoteric and nebulous, and one sometimes get the impression that there really isn't an explanation at all. The spirit bloweth where it listeth...and creates buttercups and water lilies as it goes along. There seems to be a tension in Bortoft's reasoning between a creative evolution of the spirit, and a more static perspective where preordained organisms simply pop up into existence according to never-changing archetypal patterns. (He does admit that "mechanical" causes enter as secondary causes once the plants have manifested themselves.)

It's not clear to me how many archetypes there really are. Goethe's Urpflänze is the One in relation to all plants. There are also mammalian, reptilian or human archetypes. Finally, there seems to be a One that is universal. Is there a hierarchical pattern within the One? If so, how static is the hierarchy? How can it be creative evolution if there is a cosmic pattern into which all organisms on our little planet fall rather neatly?

Somehow, I never understood the *real*point of "The Wholeness of Nature". It obviously isn't a simple discussion about some forgotten aspect of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's Weltanschauung (or herbarium). Perhaps it could be seen as a preparatio evangelica Anthroposophica? Although its quasi-pomo perspectivism really irritated me (not to mention the constant references to Gadamer's hermeneutics - how I hate that little word!), I admit that this is a strangely interesting tome, after a fashion.

For that reason, I give it four stars. I can only hope that you may understand it better than I did...