In ‘Beyond Good and Evil’, Friedrich Nietzsche (58-74) lists a number of ‘Epigrams and entr’actes’. In this essay, I will focus on a couple of them, largely for the reason that unlike many scientists and scholars, I have had the privilege of teaching people.
I appreciate how he gets to the point immediately. It’s just one sentence and he (58) totally nails what matters when you are a teacher:
“Genuine teachers only take things seriously where their students are concerned – even themselves.”
I pondered this for a moment, as I read this, but I totally agree. A lot of people take things, including, if not especially themselves, super seriously. If you’ve ever been a teacher, this matters for a student, there and then, because they think you are serious. To them, you are important. It makes sense, considering that you are the one, yes, the one, the person in charge of whatever it is that they are supposed to learn or, to be more productive, want to learn. Then again, you are important as a teacher only because of that and beyond that, you are not important, as such.
There is a downside to that as well, which is not addressed here by Nietzsche. When I teach, or supervise, I am thought of as someone superior. I understand that. I acknowledge that I am superior to them, albeit only in the sense that I happen to be in a certain position that allows me to exercise power over them and in the related sense that it is only likely that I know better when it comes to whatever it is that they are supposed to or, hopefully, want to learn.
The downside of that is that it comes with this weird aura. People think that I am like that, knowledgeable and serious, like all the time, all day, everyday. They think that I am, somehow, inherently superior to them, just because. They don’t see that I’m just some random person, like some dude, just like they are. There’s nothing that makes me or them somehow inherently better or worse, in this or that regard, but I do get treated like that’s the case.
I’m not particularly fond of that, because it creates the distance between me and other people. People contact me usually for advice, or for help. That’s fine when you are a teacher. That’s literally your job. You are there for them, to help them to learn and, more broadly speaking, for them to find their own way. It’s not fine when you are not their teacher, or when you are no longer their teacher.
To be candid, I am generally willing to bend over and backwards when people contact me. I’m happy to help them, if it is something I can help them with, even if I am not their teacher or supervisor. That’s just how I roll. It cab be bit tiring though. It’s not a great feeling when people contact you only when they need something from you. It’s like you’ve become a service to them.
Moving on to Nietzsche’s next point, which is not about teaching, but it is related to it, at least in the academic context. He (58) reckons that:
“‘Knowledge for its own sake’ – this is the final snare morality has laid; with it, we become completely entangled in morals once again.”
To unpack this, there’s this common sense belief that science, typically in the guise of natural sciences, is this about uncovering the truth. For that, you need to learn the scientific method. What you get out of it is then scientific knowledge and it is largely taken for granted that this is no belief or opinion, but facts.
To unpack this further, the problem with this common sense conception of knowledge is that it is incredibly naive and, dare I say, unscientific. It is supposed to be about the truth, like truly what’s what, and not some belief or superstition in some otherworldly entity or entities, i.e., God or gods, but it ends up working exactly the same way, as Nietzsche points out here.
It used to be that God was the truth and some priests would tell people how they should live. It works the same with knowledge and some academics tell people how they should live. Now, to be clear, many academics are reluctant to make broad or sweeping claims. It is often the various media outlets that make such claims, stating that … leads to … , even thought the academics themselves rather point out something much more modest, like how … appears to contribute to … which is known to be linked to … and may therefore cause … if … and … under … circumstances. As you can see, those claims are not even close to the same. That said, there is this popular belief, also espoused by many, but not all academics themselves, that they are dealing with facts, which then elevates them to positions of authority.
Nietzsche then connects his previous remark with another point he (58) makes:
“Knowledge would have little charm if there were not so much shame to be overcome in order to reach it.”
This is more connected to being a student than his previous remark. Here the point is that people want to study, not necessarily because they want to learn more, to better understand … better, but because it is considered shameful if you don’t understand … better. Simply put, being ignorant or stupid is not considered desirable, whereas being knowledgeable and smart is considered desirable.
The snare here with knowledge that he mentions is that there is no knowledge in itself comes to have by studying. There’s nothing out there waiting for us to uncover. Instead, people are expected to seek and gain knowledge that is, in fact, produced, by people, typically by a select few, for their purposes. This is also how it is with priests and deities. There are no deities, only people who claim that there are deities and that they happen to know how these deities want us to live.
To connect these points to the first point he (58) makes first about teachers, while I think it is important to take oneself seriously in teaching and supervision capacity, one should otherwise avoid taking things, including oneself, too seriously. I’m actually surprised by how seriously people take me, even though I’m far from a serious person most of the time. I rarely mention that I have a doctorate and avoid using the title, because it makes people take me very seriously, which is no fun at all. It also helps me from taking myself too seriously and from thinking too highly of myself. I have no interest in being a priest and I don’t think it is the job of an academic to tell people how they should live their lives. I can give suggestions, sure, and even advocate for this and/or that, but I think people, especially students, need to find their own way and do their own thing.
These remarks about knowledge are also connected to another point he (58) wants to get across:
“It is barbaric to love one thing alone, since this one love will be pursued at the expense of all others. This includes love of God.”
Now, to make sense of that, I’m going to work my way back, starting from the second sentence. Morality, what’s moral, is how one should live, while immorality, what’s immoral, is anything that deviates from how one should live. Some also conflate this with ethics, so that moral is the same as ethical and immoral as unethical, but that’s not strictly speaking the case. Morality is distinct from ethics in the sense that the former is more of a common sense notion of good and bad, whereas the latter is more of a set of explicit rules according to which something is deemed good or bad. In other words, morality is based on subjective presuppositions, like common sense notions, whereas ethics is not because everything has to be explicitly defined and agreed by people.
Baruch Spinoza’s ‘Ethics’ is a great example of how that distinction works. He is very adamant about how nothing is inherently good or bad and how, instead, it is we who define something as good or bad according to what we already desire. Ethics has this explicit acknowledgment of preference. Morality lacks this kind of transparency. It is simply taken for granted that something is good or bad, by which I mean that it is in itself good or bad and that is thought that it is why one desires or does not desire it.
What’s great about Spinoza’s ‘Ethics’ and why I subscribe to it is that there is nothing that is inherently good or bad, only what is good or bad for you. No matter what you do, you do it because it is desirable or undesirable to you. This puts you on the spot, because it is not at all clear that what’s desirable or undesirable to you is desirable or undesirable to someone else and because, one way or another, you got to do something. There is nothing that is in itself good or bad, according to which you should do whatever it is that you are about to do or refrain from doing it.
Anyway, back to Nietzsche (58), who warns against dedicating oneself to one thing. That used to be God, hence the importance of the second sentence. However, it can be anything, including knowledge, which is something that academics themselves risk forgetting.
There are many, many other good points he makes makes in this section of the book chapter. They not that connected to these remarks though, so I’ll see to them some other time. Some of them are a bit dated as well and thus not necessarily even that good either.
References
- Nietzsche, F. ([1886] 2002). Beyond Good and Evil (R-P. Horstmann and J. Norman, Eds., J. Norman, Trans.). Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press.
- Spinoza, B. ([1677] 1884). The Ethics. In R. H. M. Elwes (Ed.), The Chief Works of Benedict de Spinoza: Vol. II (R. H. M. Elwes, Trans.) (pp. 43–271). London, United Kingdom: George Bell and Sons.