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Xerox University Microfilms 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 74-3239

MACIOCI, Jr., Ralph Nikolas, 1941- RATIONALE AND ORGANUM FOR THE COMPLETION OF HUMANITY THROUGH THE ACQUISITION OF CONSCIOUSNESS.

The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1973 Education, psychology

University Microfilms, A XEROX Company, Ann Arbor, Michigan

Copyright© . by Ralph Nikolas Macioci, Jr* 1973 RATIONALE AND ORGANUM FOR THE COMPLETION OF HUMANITY THROUGH THE ACQUISITION OF CONSCIOUSNESS

Dissertation

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of the Ohio State University

By Ralph Nikolas Macioci, Jr., B. A*, M*A*

******

The Ohio State University 1973

Reading Coirmlttee: Approved by

Joseph J. Quaranta

Paul R. Klohr

Donald R. Bateman Adviser Department of Humanities Education ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to express my gratitude to Professor Paul Klohr, Facility of Curriculum and Foundations, and Professor Donald R* Bateman, Faculty of Humanities Education, Doth of the Ohio State University, for having belief in my ideas and for helping whenever they could* Special thanks to Professor Joe Quaranta, also of Ohio State University* I acknowledge Alfred A* Knopf, Inc* for permission to quote from the works of P* D* Ouspensky and the Viking Press for permission to quote from the works of Abraham Maslow. For her tolerance of my indecipherable handwriting, her dedication to the typing of the first draft, and her help with a myriad indespensable details, I offer no less than praise to MisB Kay Martindale* Additionally, I wish to thank Mrs* Nelda.E* Trentanelli for her perfect typing of the final copy* To my parents, Mr* and Mrs* Spiellman, my brother, Michael, and my aunts, Elizabeth LeBlanc and Ada Fountain, I owe my feelings of being loved and supported* R.N.M*

ii VITA

April 1, 1941* * * • B o m - Columbus, Ohio 1964 • •**•••• B.A., The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio 1964-1965 ...... Teacher of English, South Court Street Junior High, Circleville, Ohio 1965-1966 ...... Teacher of English, Training Institution of Central Ohio, Columbus, Ohio 1967-1969* Teacher of English, Franklin Junior High School, Columbus Public School, Columbus, Ohio 1970 «••••••• M.A. , The Ohio State University, . Columbus, Ohio 1969-1973* ***** Teacher of English, Yorktown Junior High School, Columbus Public Schools, Columbus, Ohio

PUBLICATIONS "Clarity” and "Each Winter" The Ohio State University Lantern. Vol. IXXXTflHo• 111 (March 9 , 1 902) ,p. 2* "Song of Emily Dickinson" and Declining Vulture" Ethos. Vol. I, no. 1, (Spring, 1963)* PP* 14-15* "Drosophila; Visit After Sunday School" Ethos. Vol* I, no.2 (Winter, 1964), p* 1o.

FIELDS OF STUDY Major Field: Humanities Education Studies in English Education. Professor Donald R* Bateman Studies in Curriculum and Foundations* Professors Paul R. Klohr-and Joe Quaranta. iii I

TABLE OP CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS * ...... ii VITA . •...... iii * INTRODUCTION...... 1 CHAPTER I. PREPARATION FOR PHILOSOPHICAL POSITION REGARDING CONSCIOUSNESS...... 5

Man's Solvability Limitation (26)— Man*b S olvability Limitation in the Province of Education (40)— First Premise; Man is an Incomplete Being (56)— The Possibility of the Acquisition of New Levels of Consciousness (62)— Third Premise; Consciousness AffectB Educational Ambience (65) CHAPTER II. THE NEW GENERALIZATION...... 76 Intuition and Science (8 8 )— Positivism and Science (91)— A Different Method (9 4 ) — Phenomena (97)— Noumena( 101)— Intuition and the Evolution of the Intellect (112)— Mysticism (116)— Unity of Experience as Proof of Mystical Experience (124)-:*-Coimmmicating Experience (136) — Religion as Proof for Validity of Unity of Mystical Experience (148) CHAPTER III. SELF EVOLUTION...... 157 • Two Systems of Psychology( 160)— Species Evolution and Individual Evolution(163) — Prerequisites for Becoming a Different Boing (168) — Definition of a Different Being( 170)— Man's Self-Deception (172)— Reason's for Man's Self- deception (186)— Duplicity of Appearances — A Special Reason for Man's Self-deception (189) Qualities Which Man Assumes That He PosBesses(l98) — Special Aspects of Consciousness (203)— The Four States of Consciousness (206)— Preliminary ' Realization Before Self-Study (216)— The Study of the Functions of Man As A Maohine (217)— iv Personality and Essence (223)— Connection Between Functions and Personality and Essence (226)— Speed of.Centers (229) — Positive and Negative Parts of Centers (232)— Subdivisions of the Centers (235)— Mechanical Habits Which Interfere with Self-Study (239)— Considering and Indentification( 242)— Levels of Man*s Being (244) CHAPTER IV. MAN AS A PROBLEM SOLVER ASKS THE WRONG QUESTIONS...... 250 Schools As A Focal Point for Effecting School Chahgos (254)— A Revolution of Consciousness (256)— Consciousness and Age (258)— Contradic­ tory Uso of Consciousness In Sohools (260)— Reiteration of the Basic Importance of Con­ sciousness In School Programs, Projects, and Strategies (261)— Environment and Conscious­ ness (266)— A Theory of Ambience (271) — Necessary Conditions Within An Ambience (283) — A Relevant Digression on Society And School (205)— Additional Conditions Noannnriry Within An Ambience (288)— Rolatodnooo of Finite Entities to One Another And to the Infinite (294) — Synergy (296)— Understanding and Knowing (299)— Psycho-Synergic Unity (301)— The Place of Schools on the Continuum of Relatedness (302) — Suggestions For The Creation of a Language Arts Content Area (312)— To Be Allowed To Talk as Well as to Listen (313)— Special Attention to the Teaching of Reading (316)— A Few Words About Why the Child Will Not Write (320)— Resources and Human Relationships in The Language Arts Classroom (321)— Five Domains to Which. A Student May Apply Himself (324)— Nucleus For a Language Arts Classroom Based on Ouspensky's Table of the Four Forms of the Manifestations of Consciousness (326)— Language Arts Area As A Paradigm For Creation of Nuclei for Other Subject Areas (331) EPILOGUE. ••••...... 332 APPENDIX...... 333 BIBLIOGRAPHY • . • • ...... 335 t v INTRODUCTION

Existent criticism of the school reflects incisive truths pertinent to the failure of education, particularly, during the last twenty—five years, and reveals the current temperment regarding corrective action* Furthermore, it is inaccurate to think that dehumanization and one-dimen­ sional humanity are peculiar only to modern schooling. The process of teaching has not changed in several thousand years or more despite an effort to reorganize, reconstruct, ro-structure, revitalize, and reanimate ideas, philosophies and theories which were, from their inception, lifeless and entirely mindless of the total human welfare. Denunciation of the abject and ineffectual conditions of schools reaches full expression in a number of critical publications by contemporary commentators. John Holt, William Glasser, Neil Postman, Charles Weingartner* Ivan Illich, Paulo Freire, and Charles E. Silberman are only a few of the men who have judged the state of education and schools to be disastrous. It is this ubiguitous opinion of schools, perforce, which must have led Freire to pronounce the disparity between education and schooling in order to preserve the inately favorable connation of . the word "education.w Criticism analogously supportive of Freire*s separation of terms may be inferred from Charles E. Silberman*s book Crisis in the Classroom* This book empirically exposes countless discreditable stratagems used to maintain the schooling preoccupation of allegedly educational undertakings. The awakening sound of Silberman*s effort has become the public's song of horror. Paulo Freire , who is equally sensitive to the horrific procedures and results of schooling, has moved beyond criticism and has developed a pedagogy for man's liberation from dominance. Realistically, what one word can better describe the essence of the schooling approach to education than "dominance." Notwithstanding the inevitable esprit de corps of Freire's devotees and the existence of a liberative process which self—justifies and self-illuminates through its own logic, the possibility of this pedagogy becoming an enactment, that is, a used rather than theoretically useful instrument, requires an additional momentum of phenomenological import. Such momentum has its origin in the psyche or more exactly, as this study will show, the consciousness. This investigation is predicated on the assumption

that • 'enactments of ameliocative theories and philosophies are foredoomed to annihilation or foredoomed to create deleterious effects unless the enactors and those for whom the benefit of such enactments are intended make . ~ » 3 determined effort to complete their humanity through the acqisition of new levels of consciousness. It is further assumed that the acquisition of hew levels of consciousness is the personal responsibility of every man, independent of all social institutions, as well as the organizational responsibility of all public and ' private enterprises. A final assumption maintains that through consciousness, a school ambience can be generated , which will encourage students to take their own lives into their hands to a greater extent creatively, self— knowingly, and consciously. This investigation proceeds within the dictates of a philosophical-logical-method of inquiry. Since the probe of this study extends as far as the universe, empirical validation, per se, is minimal. The major part of the research material rests on a theoretical base. The works of P.D. Ouspensky form the primary foundation on which this investigation is built. Whenever possible, other thinkers, who have a similar philosophical bent, are included for secondary support. Hopefully, this study will inspire administrators, teachers, curricular designers, curricular theorists, and anyone else in a position of dominance, to achieve a level of consciousness that will, in turn, allow students to grow toward a more complete humanity. Additionally, it is hoped that this study of 'consciousness will serve as a step ahead, a connection from J plan to practice, and a bridge from knowing into accomplish­ ment. Finally, it is desired that other investigators will take even the smallest, useful part of this investigation and continue to work toward the development of an educative environment that will promote and protect the individual growth process. The organization of this study is as follows: In chapter one, preparation is made for a philosophical position regarding consciousness. Particular ideas and premises are asserted in support of the underlying assumption that the acquisition of new levels of consciousness is imperative for the enactment of theories and philosophies which have as their aims the benefit of human beings. In chapter two, a detailed examination of dimensionality and its several constituent components is presented. Chapter three narrows the focus further and creates specific guidelines for the man who determines to acquire a new level of consciousness. Also a continual correlation is constructed between such guidelines and their educational implications. Chapter four projects a plan for the creation of an educational ambience. The idea of synergy is fused with the idea of ambience. Specific suggestions are made for the engenderment of a Language Arts content area. Afterwards, the area is used as a paradigm for other content areas. CHAPTER I PREPARATION FOR PHILOSOPHICAL POSITION REGARDING CONSCIOUSNESS

Whether man wishes to assume the complete respon­ sibility for his choices or to attribute the optionality of his decisions to an amorphous, predeterming power is a first consideration for a discussion of consciousness*

* Ironically, even the pre-determined man frequently displays the indomitable trait of choosing. Caught during an instant of non-conscious selecting and given an adequate awareness of himself, even the predestinarian must recognize that he has assumed power over his own destiny. Though neither the nucleus nor the periphery of this study has been under­ taken to fully examine and settle the philosophic dispute suggested in the foregoing comments, it appears, neverthe­ less , necessary to portray man as a being who makes choices regardless of the religio—philosophical posture from which he views the process. Ivan Illich succinctly ascribes this power to man when he says ^ "Reality itself has become dependent on human decision.” 1 The meaning of this state­ ment is replete with implications about choosing as well as *the level of consciousness on which the choices occur. 1 Ivan Illich, Deschooling Society. New York: Harper & Row, 1970, p. 109- An extension of Illich*s thought illustrates this points The same President who ordered the ineffective invasion of Cambodia could equally well order the effective use of the atom. The ’Hiroshima switch* now can cut the navel of the earth. Man has acquired the power to make Chaos overwhelm both Eros and Gaia. This new power of amn to cut the navel of the earth is a constant reminder that our institutions not only create their own ends, but also have the power to put an end to themselves and t o u s . 2 The import of this passage, as it bears on man’s freedom to choose, is explicit; however, less demonstra­ tive is the concernment with consciousness. Unless man is asleep when he makes decisions, and even this will be shown to be a level of consciousness in a later chapter^, the magnitude of his choice will inevitably reflect a particular plane of consciousness. Magnitude, here, indicates the constructive possibility as opposed to the destructive possibility, unification as opposed to separation, and the spatial consideration of universality favored over a myopic acceptance of the finite as real. * To the degree that the first particulars of each of the items in the aforementioned series are actualized in a

o . . Ibid. ^The term, "asleep** should be thought of as being synonymous with such words as "void,** "inanimate," or "unconscious." Clarification should be made at the outset so that "asleep" meaning "sluggishness" is not confused with the first lowest state- of consciousness which may also be referred to as "asleep." 7

person's decision, the decision becomes a mirror of* a definable level of consciousness. Accepting that man does exert some degree of will in the matter of choosing and that the making of choices reflects a specific and influential plane of consciousness, it yet remains to sanction a definition of consciousness that will be useful in this study. The word "consciousness" is an elusive term. Needless to say, numerous authorities maintain conflicting views about the component aspects and ultimate expressibility of the same term. Words such as "awareness,” "perception,” "knowing," "knowledge," "mind," "psyche," "opinion,"’ "existence," "self-knowledge," "transcendence," "inten- tionality," "values,” and "information" are frequently used interchangeably during a discussion of the concept of consciousness; furthermore, certain of these descriptive words are commonly offered as replacement terms for the word "consciousness." Coincident definitions are virtually impossible to discover among the numerous contributors on the subject. Consequently, a reasonable compromise would seem to entail compositing or, better yet, dis'tilling a workable explanation from the associative literature. A first move, then, will be to open the area of qualification to those definitions and ideas which ought to be considered as potential contributors to the 8

final extraction. Maxine Greene t speaking about "Curriculum and Consciousness” asserts that: Consciousness9 being intentional, throws itself outward toward the world. It is always consciousness of something - a phenomenon, another person, an object in the world. Reflecting upon himself as a conscious object, the individual - the learner, perhaps - reflects upon his relation to the world, his manner of comporting himself with respect to it, the changing perspectives through which the world presents itself to him.4 Her definition, thus far, suffers from at least one obstensible shortcoming; the over—preoccupation with the phenomenal world. She offers only a hint of attaching an importance to self-awareness when she says, "Reflecting upon himself as a conscious object..." The main thrust of her statement is directed toward a reflection "upon his relation to the world." A continuation of Professor Greene's definition yields no less a preoccupancy with the phenomenal world: This means remaining in contact with one's own perceptions, one's own experiences, and striving to constitute their meanings. It means achieving a state of what Schutz calls 'wide-awakeness...a plane of consciousness of highest tension originating in an attitude of

^Maxine Greene, "Curriculum and Consciousness," Teachers College Record, December, 1971, Vol. 73, No. 2, P. 258. 9

full attention to life and its requirements.*^ There is a circularity and ahstruseness about this latter part of Professor Greene's definition notwithstanding the reference to Schutz. Further perusal and a clarification of terms might produce a more lucid statement from which m m b l o concepts way bo inlcom Ho fnr, however, tho idoa of "intontionality" is Professor Greene's most significant contribution toward a definition of consciousness, and that is only the passementerie on the essential garment. Two alternative views of consciousness, relevant to education, are also expressed in Professor Greene's articles R. S. Peters, agreeing with his philosophic precursors that consciousness is the hallmark of mind and always 'related in its different modes to objects,* asserts that the 'objects of consciousness are first and foremost objects in a public world that are marked out and differentiated by a public language into which the individual is initiated.'6 Again, the concern is exclusively for the mind in relation to the external or phenomenal world. This might be expected when it is recognized that Peters is "...the exponent of an 'objective' or 'analytic' approach to curriculum, closely related to the objective approach to literary criticism."7 Professor Greene's continued

5Ibid. 6Ibid., p. 259* 7Ibid. 10 interpretation of Peter*s ideas only substantiates his tenacity with the physical world: He grants that the individual 'represents a unique and unrepeatable viewpoint on this public world*; but his primary stress is placed upon the way in which the learning of language is linked to the discovery of that separately existing world of 'objects in space and time.' Consciousness, for Peters, cannot be explained except in connection with the demarcations of the public world which meaning makes possible. It becomes contingent upon initiation into public traditions, into (it turns out) the academic disciplines.° Furtherment of a definition of consciousness is slight after having looked at the assertions of R.S. Peters. By looking onward to Philip H. Phenix, however, a step ahead is taken: Philip H. Phenix argues similarly that 'the curriculum should consist entirely of knowledge which comes from the disciplines, for the reason that the disciplines reveal knowledge in its teachable forms.' He, however, pays more heed to what he calls 'the experience of reflective self-consciousness,' which he associates specifically with 'concrete existence in direct personal encounter.'9 * Maxine Greene continues to explain that meanings from these personal encounters are primarily expressed for Phenix in existentialism. "They are, thus, to be considered as one of the six 'realms of meaning*

* through mastery of which man is enabled to achieve

8Ibid. 9Ibid. 11 solf-transcendcnce." 10 As Professor Greene points out, self—transcendence, ofr Phenix, entails a duality: The learner feels himself to be agent and knower, and the learner also identifies with wha*t he comes to know. 11 Self—transcendence and the self-awareness implied in such a phrase as "feels himself .to be agent and knower" are definite building blocks toward a conception of consciousness. The emphasis is directed, in part, to the outer world and, in part, to the phenomenology of the "knower." A concentration of "self" as partial fulfillment of a definition of consciousness brings the definition closer to the inclusion of the idea of a "magnetic center." 12 Self-awareness is indispensable for the creation of a magnetic center strong enough to motivate a person to want to attain a new level of consciousness. Self-awareness and intentionality fit well within the accepted matrix of consciousness so far constructed. In fact, Dr. Viktor E. Frankl, through implication, confirms the complementarity of self-awareness, intentionality, and consciousness when he Bays:

11Ibid. 12P. D. Ouspensky, The Psychology of Man’s Possible Evolution. New York: Alfred A. Knopr, Tj-S’so, p. 687 A further discussion of "Magnetic center" will be forth­ coming in Chapter III. 12 Man in not fully conditioned and determined; lie determines himself whether to give in to conditions or stand up to them# In other words, man i3 ultimately self-determine# Man does not simply exist, hut always decides what his existence will he, what he will become in the next moment# ; The degree of support offered hy two additional sources warrants the strategic placement of self- awareness as one of the consequential elements of con­ sciousness# First, Gordon W. Allport, in speaking about an individuals inherent urge to actualize his innate potentialities, says that the one urge most importantly felt hy the self-actualizing person is "•#•individuation, the formation of an individual style of life that is self-aware, self-critical, and self—enhancing.*' 1 A^ Though Allport presents three concepts in a series, it can easily he seen that concepts such as "self-critical” and "self-enhancing" are only characteristics of self- awareness. Taken with a minimum of definement, self- awareness includes a knowledge of self which leads toward constructivism; and obviously constructive existence would he over-shadowed hy the destructive agencies of personal­ ity if it were not for the active self-criticism which

1JViktor E# Frankl, Man*s Search for Meaning. New York: Pocket Books, 1971, p. 206. -^Gordon WV *Aliport, Becoming: Basic Considerations for a Psychology of Personality. New Haven: Yale TCTveralty Tress',"T955, p. '27 $ $ . 13 is innate to self-study or self-awareness* Nevertheless, Allport elevates self-awareness to an undeniably « significant position* C. G. Jung's book, The Undiscovered Self. is a document wholly in support of self-awareness* Though i * his intentions may differ from those of this study and though his terminology would suffice as an example of the interchangability factor mentioned earlier in this chapter, still, his book corroborates the contention that awareness is paramount to consciousness: As experience unf ortunately shows, the inner man remains unchanged however much community he has. His environment cannot give him as a gift that which he can win for himself only with effort and suffering* On the contrary, a favorable environment merely strengthens the dangerous tendency to expect everything to originate from outside — even that metamorphosis which external reality cannot provide, namely, a deep-seated change of the inner man, which is all the more urgent in view of the mass phenomena of today and the still greater problems of the increase of population looming up in the future. It is time we asked ourselves exactly what we are lumping together in mass organiza­ tions and what constitutes the nature of the individual human being, i*e*, of the real man and not the statistical man. This is hardly possible except through a new process of self- nouri ohment .15 The foregoing passage is important in two ways in the context of this study: First, it underscores the need for inner concentration as opposed to outer concentration

*1 c ^C. G. Jung, The Undiscovered Self. New York: Mentor Books, 1959» p» ^0. 14 in fulfillment of self—study and self-awareness* Secondly, as aforementioned, it directly emphasizes the primary position of self-awareness* Jung's use of the term "self-nourishment” is not in opposition to the term "self-awareness." On the contrary, Jung's term is significantly more explicit than the former expression* Certainly, self-exploration ■j is the nutriment which promotes a person's growth toward individuation. Furthermore, if individuation is taken as a distinct result of self-study and as a means of protection against over-shadowing by the external world, then Jung's further comment may be considered relevant: "Resistance to the organized man can be effected only by the man who is as well- organized in his individuality as the mass itself*" 16 And to what avail is self-study, self-knowledge, or self-examination, excepting the fringe benefits of individuation, if it is not undertaken ap a means to hew levels of consciousness which will help the individual to complete his humanity? Another confirmation from C. G. Jung may lend strength to this latter point: To this question there is a positive answer only when the individual is willing to fulfill the demands of rigorous self-examination and

16Ibid., p. 72. 15 self-knowledge. If he follows through his intention, he will not only discover some important truths about himself, but will also have gained a psychological advantage: He will have succeeded in deeming himself worthy of serious attention and sympathetic interest. He will have set his hand, as it were, to a declaration of hiw own human dignity and take the first step towards the foundations of his consciousness...*' If it were possible to pause historically and to site one book which, to date, embodies the temperment associated with criticism leveled against the oppression of mental and physical man and which grinds principles of revolution into a proxeological bullet that can be fired at the oppressors, it would unquestionably have to be Paulo Freire*s Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Prosaically speaking, Froiro1s book might bo thought of as a "How— to-do—it” for reformers. That witticism is not intended to be disparaging; tout au contraire. the book is a remarkable attempt, which does not entirely fail, to put into practicable terms a pedagogy of liberation which in the hands of a less able thinker would remain trapped * in a theoretical chrysalises. The workability of Freire's ideas will be discussed in a later section of this chapter. For the time being, Freire's contribution to a definition of consciousness will be the focal point.

17Ibid. , p. 101. 16 In reference to his method for a humanizing pedagogy, Freire quotes the following comment about consciousness from a work in preparation of the philosophy of science by Alvaro Visiro Pinto. The method is, in fact, the external form of consciousness manifest in acts, which takes on the fundamental property of consciousness - its intentionality. The essence of consciousness is being with the world. and this behavior is permanent and unavoidable• Accordingly, consciousness is in essence a 'way towards' something apart from itself, outside itself, which surrounds it and which it apprehends by neans of its identical capacity. Consciousness is thus by definition a method, in the most general sense of the word.18 Though the full credit for the origination of the foregoing passage belongs to Pinto, nevertheless, a different kind of credit, and not in the least condescend­ ing, must be given to Freire for sensing the worth of the ideas contained therein. Pinto's ideas open the way toward a broader definition of consciousness. The phrase "being with the world" is only a foreshadowing ♦ of tho greater explanation which says that "consciousness . . . *""* is in essence a 'way towards' something apart from itself, outside itself, which surrounds it and which it apprehends

18Paulo Freire. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Herder and Herder, “1970, p. 56. (quoted by Freire from a work by Alvaro Vievia Pinto.) 17 by means of its identical capacity.” Taken as a whole, the importance of Pinto’s thoughts derives from their tendency to relate consciousness to a vastness beyond the immediate, physical world. The further implications of his ideas lie partly hidden beneath a thin layer of abstruseness which is, to be sure, unintentional. The abstruseness results from the excision of these concepts from a larger field of explanation rather than from a lack of stylistic clarity. Certainly, ”world” is not to be solely equated, if at all, to "earth” and its in­ herent space limitation. And what exactly is the "something apart?" Where doeB it exist spatially? What sort of extension iB hinted at by the "identical capacity" of the "something" and the "it?" Much elucidation of these thoughts is forthcoming after a brief reference to the work of P. P. Ouspensky: By the world we mean the combination of all causes of our sensations in general. By the material world we mean the combination of causes of a definite series of sensations? Those of sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste, sensations of weight, and so on.*19 Ouspensky*s explanation is helpful and relatively digestible. However, his comments appertaining to "identical capacity" are a bit more difficult: iq ^P. D. Ouspensky, Tertium Organum. New York? Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 19&9, p* 2*77 18 By analogy, it is possible to regard the solid (the cube, sphere, pyramid) as a section of a four—dimensional body, and our entire three— dimensional body as the section of a four— dimensional space. If every throe—dimensional body is the section of a four-dimensional one, then every point of a three-dimensional body is the section of a four-dimensional line. It is possible to regard an 'atom1 of a physical body, not as something material. but as an intersection of a“"Four-dimensional line by the plane of our consciousness. The view of a three-dimensional body as the section of a four—dimensional one leads to the thought that many (for us) separate bodies may be the sections of parts of one four- dimensional body.^u Though Ouspensky's ideas are, to say the least, revolu­ tionary, they do not suffer from insufficient support. An extensive presentation of his system will comprise the bulk of chapter two and chapter three. Pending that, a meager acceptance of the meaning contained in the preceding quotations coupled with a careful reading of Pinto's words will yield a strong suggestion about dimensionality. The- "identical capacity" might easily be the result of two apparently "separate bodies" being "the sections of parts of one four-dimensional body." Hence, accepting this possibility, the definition of consciousness takes on a new aspect, dimensionality. Furthermore, if the particular dimensionality in question is. fourth dimensionality, and if, because of the very 19 definition, fourth dimensionality is a further extension into the vastness of space, i. e. , the cosmos, then the cosmos becomes a logical part of the appended definition of consciousness. A current publication by Charles A. Reich examines "the present Americal crisis" 21 and offers as a solution, v the acquisition of a new level of consciousness which he calls "Consciousness III." 22 Speaking of consciousness as a mass phenomenon, he says that: ...consciousness is formed by the underlying economic and social conditions. There was a consciousness that went with peasant life in the Middle Ages, and a consciousness that went with small town, preindustrial life in America. Culture and government interact with consciousness; they are its products but they also help to form it.^3 Reich makes the bold assumption that society forms the consciousness of the person. What sense would it make to self-study if that were the case? And what use to individualize? At another point in his book, though, he

» delivers a definition which proves to be more workable for the intent of this study: Consciousness, as we are using the term, is not a set of opinions, information, or values,

Charles A. Reich, The Greening of America. New York •• Bantam, 1971 •, p* 4. 22Ibid., p. 16 23Ibid. , p. 15 20 but a total configuration in any given individual, which makes up his whole perception of reality, his whole world view,24 Apparently, for his purposes, Reich does not feel the necessity to clarify or rcfino ouch terms ao "percep­ tion,*' "reality," "world," or "view," Still, if the entire line of abstract words is read several times consecutively and if the more universal interpretation, as well as the obvious one, is made for the word "world," then the full import of the line might resemble the previously accepted aspect, self-awareness. Yet, on closer inspection, it is seen that self-awareness is not the implied subject so * much as awareness. per se. Reich's contribution to the establishment of a definition of consciousness for this study is his implication about the totality of awareness. Some hint of the depth of P. D. Ouspensky's work was witnessed previously in support of the idea that third dimensionality extends into the fourth dimension. At this juncture, in an effort to add finishing touches to a definition of consciousness, his thinking might be useful: In tnonl. tinnon in ordinary lnngnn/:n tha word *consciousness• is used as an equivalent to the word 'intelligence* in the sense of mind activity. • _ _ _ . 24Ibid., p. 13. 21 In reality consciousness is a particular kind of* 'awareness* in man, independent from mind’s activity —— first of all, awareness of himself, awareness of who he is, where he is, and further, awareness of wEaTThe^knows, oT~“ what he does not know, and so on.^5 Ouspensky's definition exhibits three ideas: first, that consciousness is a particular kind of awareness; second, that awareness which is consciousness enables man to discern who and where he is as well as to discern what he does and does not know; third, that the awareness which is consciousness "exists independent from mind's activity," All of these ideas are valuable for a thorough definition of consciousness, but it is the latter two ideas which seem more valuable at the moment because it has already been determined that consciousness is, by its vastness and its inherent nature, equivalent to an awareness of totality. The second idea can be treated quickly if it is understood that Ouspensky is simply enumerating the several characteristics of self-knowledge which result from self-study. It is the last point, that consciousness is "independent from mind's activity which warrants serious attention. Prior to a consideration of the difference between mind and consciousness, a much

* closer look must be given to mind. This will be possible

2*5■\P# 3). Ouspensky, The Psychology of Man's Possible Evolution. New York: Alfred A. knopx, T^5a , p. 1b. 22 only after a clarification is made between the mind, the brain, and the psyche. Ouspensky says that:

% If we consider the brain from the standpoint of consciousness, then the brain will be part of the’world,* i.e., part of the outer world lying outside of consciousness. Therefore the psyche and the brain are different things. But the psyche, as experience and observation shows, can act only through the brain. The brain is that necessary prism, passing through which part of the psyche manifests itself to us as intellect. These remarks are sufficient to assert the difference between the brain and the psyche, but the proof validating such an assertion is lacking. The positivist would claim that thought cannot exist or act without a brain. And to this reproach, even Ouspensky has no conclusive evidence. He simply states: There are no proofs and there can not be any. The existence of the psyche without a brain (without a body), if that be possible, is for us a fact which cannot be proven like a physical fact.27 Though he cannot offer proof, he does present a convincing line of reasoning that is expressed in the following • thoughts: And if my opponent will reason sincerely, then he will be convinced there can be no proof* because he himself has no means of being convinced of the existence of a psyche acting xndependently ' o/r P. D. Ouspensky, Tertium Organum. trans. Nicholas Bessaraboff and Claude Bragdon (New York, 1969)> Alfred A. Knopf, p. 164* 27Ibid., p. 165. 23 of a brain. Let us assume that the thought of a dead man (i.e., of a man whose brain has ceased •fco act) continues to function# How can we convince ourselves of this? By no possible means whatever# We have means of communication (speech, writing) ' with beings which are in conditions similar to our own - i.e., acting through brains; concerning the existence of the psyche of those same beings we can conclude by analogy with ourselves; but concerning the existence of the psychic life of other beings, whether they do or they do not exist is immaterial, we can not by ordinary means convince ourselves that they exist# It is exactly this that gives us a key to the understanding of the true relation of psychic life to the brain# Our psyche being a reflection from the brain, we can observe only those reflections which are similar to itself#2” In lieu of proofs, Ouspensky's comments extend the viable logic used to determine a difference between the psyche and the brain to an acceptable position# The next obligation is to focus more closely on "mind.” The principal error concerning "mind" is to think that a person has only one mind. Within the context of Ouspensky's system, it is easily illustrated that there are several minds which are entirely independent of each • other and which have "separate functions and separate spheres in which they manifest themselves." Again, a positivistic proof is not available, but an extensive and logical analysis of these concepts of mind will be presented in chapter three. Furthermore, concerning "mind" and "brain," it is reasonable to accept the

28Ibid. 24 Thinking of ordinary psychology and to regard "mind" and "brain" as being similar centers which produce intellectual functions. It remains to confirm the original remark r that mind or mind's activity is independent from consciousness. It is in order, at this point, to remark about mem's consciousness of his consciousness. A more thorough investigation of this concept will be postponed until chapter three, but for the present, a brief look at the idea is highly relevant. To begin, "Only man himself can know if his pq consciousness exists at a given moment or not." J This means that "...the presence or absence of consciousness in man cannot be proven by observation of his external actions."30 This fact has long been established, but the importance of it has never been fully comprehended. One' reason for this lies in the habitual connection made between consciousness and "mental process or mind activity."-'■si To wit, "If man realizes that up to the • moment of this realization he was not conscious, and forgets this realization — or even remembers it — this

pq P. D. Ouspensky, The Psychology of Man's Possible Evolution. (New York, 19V1) , Alfred A. Knopf , P. l7. 3°Ibid.

31Ibid. . p . 16. 25 is not consciousness. It is only memory of a strong realization* "^2 So there is a separation of mental activity from consciousness. In order to further sub- # stantiate their distinctness and to delineate each as a unique entity, this study will quickly proceed with a brief description of mental activity and consciousness. "Mental activity" implies the activity of a mind, but this is not so. In truth, there are four separate minds, and each mind lies at the root of a function. These functions are thinking, feeling, instinctive, and moving.33 On the other hand, consciousness has visible and observable degrees. These degrees are duration, frequency of appearance, and the extent of penetration.34 A more detailed discussion of the "mind's activity" and of the degrees pertaining to consciousness will be under­ taken in chapter three. Mention of the foregoing characteristics is temporarily adequate for the delinea­ tion of the difference between "mind's activity" and consciousness. With the establishment of the separation between these two ideas, it remains to add the clarified concept, that consciousness is independent of mind's

3?Ibid« . p. T7 " ~ • 33Ibid. 34Ibid. , p. 18 . 26 activity, to the final definition of consciousness. Having closely examined some of the thoughts and definitions of consciousness expressed by several I eminent thinkers and having abstracted the most usable and defendable aspects of those thoughts and definitions, this final, composite definition results: Consciousness is a particular kind of awareness, intentional and independent from mind's activity. It is, first of all, awareness of oneself and of the faceted aspects of that awareness which include awareness of who, what, and where one is as well as what one does and does not know. Moreover, consciousness includes a perception of oneself in relation to the real world as opposed to the illusory world of three dimensionality. In other words, an awareness of oneself in relation to the fourth dimension and the cosmos. This, then, will be the accepted definition for the word "consciousness" throught this study. Man's Solvability Limitation Frequently, the obvious is the most distant from man. Man is closer to himself than to anyone or anything and, yet, farther removed from himself than even imaginable. It is an interesting paradox because it is the continuous fluctuation of this paradox which prevents man from having the level of consciousness necessary for the solution of his most profoundly human problems. This is to say that 27 man does not know himself* He simply dupes himself into beliving that ho possesses self-knowledge** Furthermore, he assumes a knowledge about the world, the universe, which it is impossible for him to have without first having a self-knowledge* The implications is that solutions to man's human problems will not proceed out of man's fogginess about himself, tittle self-knowledge creates a misleading consciousness, based on self-deception and inadequate self-study, which leads man to perplexity and immobility when he is faced with human problems* The reference to human problems is essentially a matter of perspective* There are, needless to say, problems which pertain specifically to npankind; nevertheless, any problem, even if it relates to lower animals and inani­ mate objects, for which man perceives himself to be the solver is a human problem* How successful can a man be as a problom solvor whon the oolf from which a solution is projected exists in an inadequately realized state? A'man cannot give that which he does not have without incurring a deficit; the deficit usually takes the form of consequen­ ces of wrong decisions based on a projection from an inadequately realized self, a self which has not been sufficiently studies* This is not the exception; It is the rule* The generalization conferring a lack of self- knowledge among men has become a truism. On the subject of 28 man’s absence of self-knowledge, Nietzsche strengthens the above-mentioned generalization: What, indeed, does man know of himself! Can he even once perceive himself completely, laid out as if in an illuminated glass case? Does not nature keep much the most from him, even about his body, to spellbind and confine him in a proud, deceptive consciousness, far from the coils of the intestines, the quick current of the blood stream, and the involved tremors of the fibers? She threw away the key; and woe to the calamitous curiosity which might peer just once through a crack in the chamber of consciousness and look down, and sense that man rests upon the merciless, the greedy, the insatiable, the murderous, in the indifference of his ignorance — hanging in dreams, as it were, upon the back of a tiger. In view of this, whence in all the world comes the urge for truth?35 To the question, "can he (man) even once perceive himself completely, laid out as if in an illuminated glass case?” , this study offers an unequivocal affirmative. It is true, as Nietzsche says, that nature does keep much concerning the body from man's view. Nor is the complexity of man's mind naturally conspicuous to him. This is not to imply that man has no accessibility to himself. As a matter of fact, chapter three is a design for an approach to "self.” In spite of this, man ought to activate the process of self-observing with genuine cautiousness lest he' remember Nietzsche's warning too late: "...woe to the

^Nietzsche, The Portable Nietzsche. trans. Walter Kaufman (New York ,^954 J, tL'he -Viking Press, p. 44. 2 9 calamitous curosity which might peer just once through a crack in the chamber of consciousness and look down, and sense that man rests upon the merciless, the greedy, the insatiable, the murderous•••" It is these latter, negative traits, and others of the same genus, that distort the pro— jected vision which man uses to solve his problems. Above all, a full appreciation of the state of the initiate into self—observation can be possible only after the double­ edge of "peer just once" is understood. To look once, and only once, into the abyss of self is to encounter defenselessly the distortions of self That would, doubtless, be a harrowing experience that would necessitate the immediate activation of denial. This denial would gradually disintegrate into a self-ignoranee not unlike that self-ignorance which existed before the "look down." On the other hand, what is there to say about a person who does not even make the effort to look "just once"? He is obviously, self-assigned to self— * ignorance from the outset. And what is the difference between self-ignorance and self—ignorance? That is to npk whr.it io tho difforonoo botwoon either to look "just once" or to look not at all if both postures yield the *

-^Subscribers to Freudian theory will want to interpret this to mean that the personality mechanisms ... are revealed. The implication in this study is more than that• 30 same result? Perhaps an effectual response would be to say that both positions lie on a negative continum, and that the advantage of the former, one look, over the latter, no look at all, is mostly a matter of degrees. Hope for constructiveness lies with the least negative degree when the measuring scale is a negative one. Ultimately, the most efficacious footing for man to take in relation to his self and his self-study is for him to acknowledge self—ignorance, to initiate the "look down,” and to endure the “look down." Only in this way, by this means, can man hope to know himself and himself in relation to the universe. Only by knowing himself can man hope to eliminate self—distortions and to prepare himself to be a solver of human problems. Self- knowledge, and the attendant level of consciousness, is man's foremost weapon against his solvability limitation within the arena of human problems. The phrase, • ♦ "solvability limitation" results from the research per*- taining to this study. Throughout the investigation, it became increasingly evident that in man's efforts to solve human problems, he frequently finds himself either admit­ ting the limitations of his ability or imposing an un- ♦ fortunate answer on a situation. The result of this latter behavior is either that the proposed solution to the problem is ineffectual or that the proposal worsens the original circumstances. Surely, no person will come away from this study believing that self-knowledge and a new level of consciousness will either eradicate the occur- ■ rence of or guarantee an immediate solution to mundane and materialistic problems. Although, even petty considerations become illuminated differently when they are viewed from self-illumined eyes and from a higher level of conscious­ ness. Nevertheless, the inference to be drawn from this study is that self-study and its attendant level of consciousness creates in man the ability to sec the whole of everything as opposed to man's present state in which he most frequently views only the pieces and evolves a sense of absurdity and an entanglement with pettiness. Is it not absurd to call the elephant's foot the whole elephant? And is it not equally absurd to starve the poor beast because the foot will not eat and because the level of awareness does not admit of the existence of an entire elephant? But this is the natural behavior of man when he is faced with his solvability limitation. Earlier mention was made of the most praxiological and practicable book currently available on the subject of human liberation. Paulo Freire's book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed is indeed, a quite usable plan for man's liberation from man. However, the prerequisite liberation on which man's liberation from man depends is man's liberation from himself. The logic underlying this may be seen after a brief recall of Fromm*s comment in Man for Himself; •..the logical fallacy is the notion that love for others and love for oneself are mutually exclusive should be stressed. If it .is a virtue to love my neighbor as a human being, it must be a virtue - and not a vice - to love myself since I am a human being too. There is no concept of man in which I myself am not included. A doctrine which proclaims such an exclusion proves itself to be intrin­ sically contradictory. The idea expressed is the Biblical "Love thy neighbor as thyself!” implies that respect for one's own integrity and uniqueness, love for and understanding of one's own self, can not be separated from respect for and love and understanding of another individual. The love for my own self is .inseparably connected with the love for any other self.37 Not only is Fromm's concept of self-love valuable both in and of itself and for prefiguring an aspect pertinent to self-studying, but 'it is also valuable in that the logic maintaining the concept is equally applicable to liberation. That is, a mem who is un­ liberated from himself cannot conceive of liberation for other human beings. In an effort to think of himself as a liberator, such a man appears to liberate others while in actuality, he becomes a stronger despot through the manipulative technique of tokenism. A man who is not liberated cannot liberate other human beings. A man who

^Erich Fromm, Man For Himself. (New York) , Holt, Rinehart, Winston, p. izb-izy. 33 docs not love himself cannot love other human beings. There is, in all of this equating an almost magnetic pull., back to self. It is the terminal, the roundhouse so to speak, of man's existence through which the other trains of his being run as well as stop occasionally for repair. If man does not, or but bearly, knows himself, he will be acting from an unknown center, and that is a poor starting place for a solver of human problems. Putting it another way, the first human problem that man must begin to solve, before he can successfully solve any other human problem, is his insufficient self-knowledge. The success in acting out of oneself is proportionate to the degree of self- claimable through self-study. Preire’s book manifests a plan of action. It is a plan that is workable, but it is not workable without the attendant level of consciousness which is the result of self-study. Preire's praxis, however, is for every human being. Yet, if a person with little or no self-knowledge attempted to rebel against oppression, assuming that he had a level of consciousness that perceived transformation as a possibility, his very liberation most likely would become the means to subsequent oppression of other human beings. To the degree to which that were true is the degree to which he would be thwarted by his solvability limitation. More realistically, though, would probably be his impossibility of conceiving of a personal 34 transformation: "A deepened consciousness of their (the oppressed) situation leads .men to apprehend that situation as an historical reality susceptible of transformation."J The presupposition in Freire's comment is contained in the phrase "a deepened consciousness." It is not possible to .just assume that man’s natural, that is initial, level of consciousness is "a deepened consciousness*' without committing a sizable phenomenological error. A higher level of consciousness is not inborn; it is achieved. - • " Additional statements from Preire's book can further illustrate his presuppositions and assumptions regarding consciousness. For example, he says: Those truly committed to the cause of liberation can accept neither the mechanistic concept of consciousness, as an empty vessel to be filled, nor the use of banking methods of domination (Propaganda, slogans - deposits) in the name of liberation."3" Preire's assumption in this statement is that man is conscious of his consciousness, and that .just is not the case. "Man is not conscious of himself. The illusion of his being conscious of himself is created by memory nQ J Paulo Freire. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. trans. Myra Bergman Ramos (New YorK, i^o) , herder & Herder,p.73• 39ibid.. p. 66 35 and thought processes."^0 Since man is not conscious of himself, he certainly is not conscious of his consciousness. This being the case, the remainder of Preire's assertion is refuted. Mechanicalness can only be overcome by conscious self-study. In another remark, Preire acknowledges the central place of consciousness within his pedagogy when he says "One of the gravest obstacles to the achievement of liberation is that oppressive reality absorbs those within it and thereby acts to submerge men's consciousness."^ Though the affirmation of the centrality of consciousness is handled obliquely in the foregoing statement, it is an affirmation, nevertheless. Another of Preire's declara­ tions affirming the middle place of consciousness in a pedagogy for liberation uses a substitute word for consciousness, but the declaration implies consciousness all the same. He states that: Functionally, oppression is domesticating. To no longer be prey to its force, one must emerge from it and turn upon it. This can be done only by means of the praxis: reflection and gction upon the world in order to transform

^°P. 3). Ouspensky, The Psychology of Man's Possible Evolution. (New York, 19V n) Air red A. Knopf, p. 19-20. ^Paulo Preire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, New York: Herder & Ilordor, 1970, p. 3o. 42ibia. 36 Reflection dependent on the degree of awareness insinuated by the use of the word in the above-quoted statement certainly must reach beyond simple thought processes, musings, and reveries. The intensity of knowing required to activate Preire's praxis can only come from a higher level of consciousness, a "reflection" through self to the universe. When Preire asserts his pedagogy, he also asserts the presupposition of the existence of a level of consciousness; though the terminology may differ periodi­ cally, the implication for consciousness bearly alters: The central problem is this: How can the oppressed as divided, unauthentic beings, participate in developing the pedagogy of their liberation? Only as they discover themselves to be 'hosts' of the oppressor can they contribute to the midwifery of their liberating pedagogy. As long as they live in the duality in which to be is to bio like, and to be like is to b£ lTIce"rEh.e oppressor, this conTribution is impossible• The pedagogy of the oppressed is an instrument for their critical discovery that both they and their oppressors are manifestations of dehumanization. ^ The word "discovery" in the phrase "critical discovery" cannot be interperted to mean less than consciousness and still be justifiable centered in this or any liberating pedagogy. Preire even allows the word "perceive" to acquire a similar connotation when he says, "In order for the oppressed to be able to wage the struggle

43Ibid. for their liberation, they must perceive the reality of oppression not as a closed world from which there is no • exit, but as a limiting situation which they can trans­ form."^ Note the use of "perceive** in relation to "limiting," If "perceive” is accepted as a substitute word in place of consciousness and if "limiting" is under­ stood to mean an impasse, the surmounting of which is directly linked to perception, then the concept asserted in this study concerning man's solvability limitation finds particular support in Preire's foregoing statement as well as substantial support in the previously cited material. Seeking additional validation for the assertion that man, in his effort to solve a human problem, frequently encounters his own solvability limitation and that his solvability limitation is proportionate to his acquired level of consciousness, this study focuses on Charles A. Reich. In his book, The Greening of America. Reich says: Current events are so overwhelming that we only see from day to day, merely responding to each crisis as it comes, seeing only immediate evils, and seeking inadequate solutions such as merely ending the war, or merely changing our domestic priorities. A longer-range,,yiew -is- necessary. 45

^ Ibid., p. 34• ^Charles A.. Reich. The Greening of America (New York. 1971), p. 4 ------: 3 8 Reich is suggesting that man is myopic in his problem-solving efforts, that he is willing to accept temporary reparation in place of permanent correction, and that man is inclined to hold the elephant's foot and call it a whole elephant* This latter point, bearing on man's concern for the finite instead of the infinite, organic whole, is further enlisted in Reich's commentarys What is the nature of the present American crisis? Most of us see it as a collection of problems, not necessarily related to each other, and, although profoundly troubling, nevertheless within the reach of reason and reform* But if we list their problems, not according to topic, but as elements of larger issues concerning the structure of our society itself, we can see that the present crisis is an organic one, that it arises out of the basic premises by whxch we live and that no more reform can touch it.46 Reich goes on to question, "What has caused the American system to go wrong in such an organic way?" 4 . 7 And he answers with this statements "The first crucial fact is the existence of a universal sense of powerless— ness*"48 Reich claims that whenever a person tries to confront America's problems, that person is overcome by a profound lack of understanding* Needless to say, this

46Ibid. 47Ibid., p. 8. 3 9 encountered lack of understanding is not merely pervasive

i among the masses* It "extends to the powerful, the well— educated, and the elite."49 This lack of understanding is not simply a lack of information or knowledge. "For it si • includes many people who possess more than enough infor- mation."^*50 What, indeed, is the essence of this "under­ standing" which exists as an impasse to man's effort at trying to solve his problems? Reich tends to think that he has an unequivocal answer; What is this 'understanding' that holds, such a key place in our contemporary situation? Clearly the word 'understanding* is inadequate, for we are talking about something much broader and deeper than 'understanding' usually connotes. To describe what we are talking about, we propose to use the term 'consciousness'.51 Some sort of full circle is completed and validated by this latter quotation. It is a circle which begins when man perceives that.he- has-a-problem which he wishes to solve. The engenderment of inadequate solutions follows, and the circle is completed when man assumes that he has solved his problem only to realize later, or, as in most cases, to half-realize, that the problem has not diminished in the least. For even the man with half—realization,

49Ibid., p. 12. 50Ibid. 5lIbid., p. 13. 40 there is the possibility that he will sense the inadequate diameter of the circle, open it where it ends , and extend’ ■ the circumferential line into consciousness. But then, that’s a powerful action which is not accessible to all people. To admit not to know what man prides himself on knowing is his first, most difficult, stop toward the self- knowledge which will load him to the higher level of con­ sciousness that will dissolve his solvability limitation and render his problems completely ended. A change of consciousness is at the heart of man's personal renascence, or as Reich says, "At the heart of everything is what we shall call a change of consciousness. This means a 'new head' - a new way of living - a new man."^CO

Man * s Solvability Limitation in the. Province of Education

The word ’province* appears in this section's heading because it connotes a kind of inclusiveness, a world of its own, a sphere. It is the totalness of education as an institution which must be perceived and examined if any significant, ameliorative change is to occur. The students of a school do not exist out of context of an actual school. The students are not the school. and the Bchool is not the administration. They

^2Ibid., p. 3* 41 may be, or become, victims and 'products* of each other,

* but not one of these entities is the totality* Though thin study mriy, at times, dwell on ono aspect of achooln, education, or schooling more than another, it must not be forgotten that the educational province is a totality, an organic whole, With this in mind, it will be reasonable to accept that the comments, concepts, ideas, and thoughts offered in this study are not only directed to teachers and to administrators, but to anyone involved in the educational province regardless of his official capacity. This section of the investigation will continue to examine several of the ideas which were , introduced in the previous sections and will attempt to apply them to the specific problem of education* Certainly, to- call today's educational situation a problem is neither an overstatement nor an exaggeration. Silberman pushes emphasis to the limit and calls it a "crisis." Ivan Illich doesn't even bother to emphasize; he simply advocates dispensing with the whole problem by "deschooling society." The amount of discourse ex­ pressing discontent and revolution is incalculable. It would require voluminous cataloging to present even a fair sampling of the educational and social critics who have acknowledged the problematic state of education and who have, or have not, offered alternatives. Since it is not part of the scope of this study to review the literature of educational criticism, per se, only two authoritative sources are used for general corroboration i of the contention that schools are in trouble. After that it is the intent of this study to go beyond the sorting, naming, classifying, and evaluating of educational alter­ natives and to investigate the idea of consciousness and its influence on man's ability to solve, his human problems « not the least of which is education. Linda Feirstein is the first offered source of confirmation for the contention that schools are failing. She says that: The failure of our educational system and the disillusionment and dissatisfaction that the failure ha3 engendered have reached ouch proportions that it is obvious that changes are going to have to take place in the way our children are educated.53 The other corroborant generalization is from Peter P. Drucker: V/e all know that the American school is in crisis. People even talk of deschooling America, and foresee a future in which there will be no school at all. This is not going to happen. But there certainly is ahead of us a long period of turbu­ lence , of rethinking fundamentals, and of building school systems very different from any we have yet seen.54

^Linda Peirstein, "The Educational Debate," Library Journal, May, 1972, Vol. 97, p. 1879* ^^Peter P. Drucker. "School Around the Bend," Psychology Today. June, "1972, Vol. 6., p. 49* 43 These remarks lend credence to the assertion that education is in a critical state of upheaval. Solutions ' to remedy this state are available to man; many of his conceptions of a solution are, however, shallow and temporary rather than permanently corrective. To a degree, this results from ignoring, not being conscious of, the whole and reacting uselessly to a part which is separate from the whole. William Glasser speaks fluently about this approach: In asking for my help, the schools expected that I would follow the traditional approach to problems, one used in every part of our society today. This approach is: Don't investigate the part played by the system in causing difficulties; instead, when difficulties arise, separate those in trouble from the system and treat them by specialists. Separation and treatment by specialists, a concept that guides almost all juvenile correctional and mental health programs in the United States today, has made a serious intrusion into the schools. The concept is somewhat erroneous for juvenile offenders and mental patients, but right or wrong, it makes little difference to the average man or to the country as a whole. For the schools, whose problems drawf the problems of mental health or juvenile correction in immediacy, concern to the nation, and the.numbers of people in­ volved, the concept of separation and treat­ ment by specialists is disastrous. 55 Which is to say that when a problem solver's level of consciousness permits him to conceive of the part as being the whole, then that person's level of’

^%illiam Glasser, M. D. , Schools Without Failure. (New York, 1969)» Harper & Row Publishers, p. 8. 44 consciousness is inadequate for the perception of totality which is required for significant problem solving. A person cannot escape himself as an entity, and if a person wishes to solve a problem by projecting the solution out of himself, then he must, first, now and understand himself. That is the way to higher consciousness. In a general fashion, the concept that levels of consciousness affect the outcome of man’s problem-solving efforts was presented previously in this study. The relevance of the application of this concept to the pro­ vince of .education is indispensable. A few examples will suffice to support this notion as well as to illustrate the contention that man frequently evolves a quite workable theory, philosophy, or plan of remediableness which, when * effected, is either ineffectual or disastrous because of the absence of a higher level of consciousness. Remember­ ing man’s tendency to substitute many other different words for the word "consciousness," the following statement from John Holt yields a new significance. When we better understand the ways, conditions, and spirit in which children do their best learning, and are able to make school into a place where they can use and improve the style of thinking and learning natural to them, we may be able to prevent much of this failure.56

“^John Holt, How Children Learn. (New York, 1970) , Dell Publishing Company, p • 10 • 45 The key to fulfilling the designs implied in John Holt's statement lies within the phrase "better understand*" The problems inherent in asking a person to confront such a phrase and to measure his own degree of understanding in the light of it, is twofold. First, the relevancy of the concept of understanding to the rest of the statement will be regarded as minor. "Better understand" will be termed an abstract, elusive phrase that is best glpssed over in favor of the more "practical" words such as "do," "make," and "use." Ironically, "do," "make," and "use" are Vseparations" from the whole organic situation. It is the "better" under­ standing that forms the matrix without which "do," "make," and "use" are nearly impossible to actualize. Without a clearly realized matrix of understanding, any other terms are fundamentally as abstract as the observer may think understanding to be. At best, the typical observer will translate "better understand" to mean more facts and information. Second, a person who possess a first or second level of consciousness will, because of defensive necessity, re- fuse to admit an absence of understanding in humans. 57

•^P. D. Ouspensky and Gurdjieff designate four different levels of consciousness. An explanation of these levels will be found in chapter two. At best, the admission will simply imply a paucity of* facts or information. The circular logic characteristic of this position is immediately apparent. Perhaps the most in­ clusively summational comment that can be made about both the first and second observers* perceptions of "better understand" is to say that neither observer recognizes that he does not understand the concept of understanding because neither observer understands himself. "Man does not know himself."^® At this point, another kind of circle is completed; it is a circle the perimeter of which traces from self-knowledge, to higher levels of consciousness, to understanding, and, finally, back to self-knowledge. It has been shown that a statement as elusively simple, and yet., as apparently workable, as the one quoted from John Holt, when analyzed in terms of its own terms, becomes dependent upon the pervasive entity of conscious­ ness for effectual enactment. A deliberate avoidance or . a helpless ignorance of this notion can only, as mentioned earlier, load either to ineffectual results or to deleterious ones. Thoughts which are similarly analyzable and reducible to a consideration of consciousness are abundant in .

•*®P. D. Ouspensky, The Psychology of Man*s Possible Evolution. (New York, 1971) * Alfred a 7 Knopf1",- p. n • 47 Teaching as a Subversive Activity, a book by Neil Postman and Charles Weingartner. The book is an imposing document of incisive criticism directed against contempory unaware— ness in education, and it is within its specific proposals and comments offered against atrocious teaching methods and outdated concepts of education that words highly suggestive of consciousness can be found. A striking example of this occurs in the introduction: It is the thesis of this book that change - constant, accelerating, ubiquitous - is the most striking characteristic of the world we live in and that our educational system has not yet recognized this fact. We maintain, further, that the abilities and attitudes required to deal adequately with change are those of the highest priority and that it is not beyond our ingenuity to design school environments which can help young people to master concepts necessary to survival in a rapidly changing world* The institution we call ’school* is what it is because we made it that w a y . 59 On what plane of phenomenological existence are such concepts as "recognized," "to desijgn," "can help," or "made" enacted if not on the plane of a specific level of consciousness? Additionally, it is a bit shortsighted

■^Neil Postman & Charles Weingartner, Teaching as a Subversive Activity. (New York, 1969) 9 Dell Publishing Company, p. x m . .48. to personify and then to attribute the cause of educational failure to an abstract body, the "system.1* * ■ Individual people constitute the system, and each of them has the choice to self-study and to aspire to a higher level of consciousness or to remain self-ignorant and to make life choices from a sloop levol of consciousness. Certainly, the "system" has a psyche of its own, but that should not obscure the existence of the actual people who comprise the "system." To what avail would it be to wait for a "system" to change itself? Early in chapter one of Postman and Weingartner*s book, it is asserted that "To the extent that our schools are instruments of such a society, they must develop in the young not only an awareness of this freedom (democracy) but a will to exercise it, and the intellectual power and perspective to. do. so effectively."^^ Once again, the concept of "awareness" functions as the keystone at the crown of ameliorative suggestions. Too many criticisms presented in the foregoing manner, may risk a strong implication for nihilism, the sort which would see any improvement plan as senseless and useless. Such is definitely not the case. This section of the study only hopes to illuminate a generally ignored concept and line of

60Ibid., p. 1. reasoning. The concept embodies a positive assertion con­ cerning the existence of quite different levels of con­ sciousness. The line of reasoning maintains that the ineffectuality, harmfulness, or success resulting from the enactment of any philosophy, theory, method, or plan is directly related to and.contingent on a specific level of consciousness. Ineffectuality, harmfulness, or success must he defined in terms of a positive scale of measurement for the maintenance of full or complete human life. Con- ultloration of othor lifo forms and minuto exploration of n philosophy, means, or method equally constructive for such beings is, by itself, beyond the purpose of this investiga­ tion. Paradoxically, however, this study has much to say about all other beings. To separate segments of reality. by this, incidentally, is not meant the physical world, and to order them into a hierarchy according to which shall be the object of a person’s consciousness is to deny the very core characteristic of higher levels of conscious­ ness. Te be conscious on a higher level of consciousness is, by definition, to be conscious of all at once. In the latter chapters of Teaching as a Subversive Activity. Postman and Weingartner present extremely useful and usable suggestions for working toward the improvement of teaching techniques and, consequently, contemporary education. This study of consciousness does not antagonize 50 the practicable solutions of serious minds wishing to up­ date and to change current practices in education. On the contrary, this investigation is founded on the belief that there does exist many solutions and means which are entirely workable and which, if activated from a higher level of consciousness, would surely eliminate some harmful educational situations and greatly improve others. At the risk of seeming redundant, one more example will be provided with the hope of redoubling the validity of the contention that a higher level of consciousness is indispensable for the successful enactments of constructive and ameliorative solutions to educational problems. Again, the focus is on Postman and Weingartner: You are a teacher in an ordinary school, and the ideas in this book make sense to you.•. what can you do about it, say tomorrow? 1• Your first act of subversion might be conducted in the following way: Write on a scrap of paper these questions: What am I going to have my students do today? What is it good for? How do I know? Tape the paper to the mirror in your bathroom or some other place where you are likely to see it every morning. If nothing else, the questions will begin to make you uneasy about shilling for someone else and might weaken your interest in 'following the syllabus.' You may even, after a while, become nauseous at the prospect of teaching things which have a specious value or for which there is no evidence that your anticipated out­ comes do , in fact, occur. At their best, the questions will drive you to reconsider almost everything you are doing, with the result that you will challenge your principal, your text­ books , the syllabus, the grading system, your own education, and so on. In the end, it all may cost you your job, or lead you to seek another position, or drive you out of teaching altogether. Subversion is a risky business — as risky for its agent as for its t a r g e t . 61 It would be arduous to ferret out more explicit directions relating to a change of attitude than those outlined in the foregoing passage. The steps are graphically presented. The reader is, so to speak, taken by the hand and led onward toward the objective. What could be more simple? And yet, there is, under­ lying this easiness and accessibility of fulfillment, a significant deception, the detection of which is not possible for the ordinary human being. This deception is the obstacle to man's fulfillment of any ‘plan, philosophy, or theory. It is a deception caused by man' acting from an assumed knowledge which he does not have; namely, the knowledge of himself. Furthermore, acting from an assumed knowledge of himself is equal to acting from an assumed level of consciousness. Of what value can any action be when it is exacted on an unreal founda< tion? Or better still, to what end will an action come when its inception*"Ties^in falseness and ignorance?

61Ibid.. p. 193-194. To frame this idea a bit differently, it might be asked how a person, who is afflicted by total blindness,’ can conceivably approach and look with satisfaction from the- precipice of reforms To be blind is not to see. It is a simple statement wherein lies the answer to whether or not a person is able to recognize a need for change. A higher level of consciousness is equal to readiness in man. The readiness is tantamount to change for the reason that possession of a higher level of consciousness, by its very nature, necessitates a negation of the unreal world in.favor of a total view of the real world. A man with higher consciousness exists among many millions of other men who believe the unreal world to be the real one. From this angle, it is soon possible to ascertain • » why man’s solutions to his human problems reach early failure: Man's answers to his human problems are as unreal as the unreality in which they originate. For man to lift himself above this unreal world is for him to see, first, that that which he has termed the "world" is but a shadow of the real world; second, that answers developed for problems in the unreal world are only temporary, surface corrections for a shadowy world; and third, that once having achieved a higher consciousness, man cannot look from the real world back to the unreal one without becoming overwhelmed by the compulsion to change as much of the unreal into the real as he can. Ironically, he can do little; what ho can and must do, ho does when he takes 0 tlio time and effort to self-study and, consequently, to acquire a higher consciousness. It is impossible for a man to give his higher consciousness to another man. Having acquired a higher consciousness, a man asserts himself from that level, thereby, exerting a kind of representative influence on other men. To this degree, and only to this degree, does a man "give” his consciousness to another person. Other­ wise , it is not possible to think of consciousness in terms of a fair exchange; there is no such thing. The best that a man of higher consciousness can do for the unreal world is to develop a revolutionary disposition and to develop a plan of action which will help to illuminate the perpetuation of unreality. If these ideas concerning the man of higher con­ sciousness and the man "asleep" in the unreal world are granted a minimum of credence, then the apparentness of the contingency on the acquisition of a higher level of consciousness for the actualization of a plan as readily available as that of Postman and Weingartner is immediately forthcoming. A man who is "asleep" or who is naturally conscious on only a lower level will rarely approach ideas which try to tell him of his sleeping state. Nor 54 will such a man find a need, a reason, or a way to discern the significance of ideas and plans which have as their object, the reformation of a status which he already re­ gards as being comfortable, manageable, advantageous, and real* It is not for such people, the multitudes, that Postman and Weingartner's book, is written; and that comment is, paradoxically, more veracious than clever. Acknow— ledgedly, books of that import ought to be the sin qua non of the sleeping man, but a certain contradiction is un­ avoidable: A book such as Postman and Weingartner's has as its theme, the awakening of man to the present unreality of teaching techniques, and man has as his object, the maintenance of his sleeping state. Poes this mean that books or ideas of a reformative or revolutionary nature are only understood.by the man of higher consciousness? The conclusive answer appears to be strongly affirmative. It is granted how numbers of people will voracibusly consume book after book and idea after idea. It is also granted that an infinitestimal and evanescent in­ fluence results from the ordinary man coming into contact with thoughts which are expressed from a higher level of consciousness. Nevertheless, a slight and transitory influence is not enough to render a man self-knowledgable, capable of knowing the real world, able to absort workable ideas, ouch as those expressed in Postman and Weingartner, and qualifiable for a higher consciousness from which it is possible to command the kind of awareness that allows■ for the permanent solution of human problems. The inherent value, then, of a theory, p!ten, way, philosophy, of literature advocating the change of existing conditions, regardless of the detailed and specific techniques offered, is proportional to and relijant on the level of consciousness of its proponent. The extrinsic value of the same theory, plan, way, philosophy, or literature, realized through actualization or enactment, is, no less, proportionate to and reliant on the level of consciousness of the actor or actuator. Thus it is that purposeful man and plans of significant action concur and succeed only when both pro­ ceed from a higher level of consciousness. Otherwise, one is out of step with the other, and a lopsided and delusory result emanates. An aware man acting from unreal theories goes back to himself haplessly and disenchanted. Usually, an aware person will not bother with unreal possibilities. His awareness, alone, prevents him from such involvements. On the other hand, an unaware man, though he does not recognize or understand real theories, proceeds to activate unreal ones from which nothing succeeds except temporary and deceptive corrections. Books, such as Postman and Weingartner's, containing usable ideas, succeed only when they are activated by men of higher consciousness. Men of 5 6 less consciousness do not understand these kinds of books.

k Such men proceed unknowingly, and the results of their • actions are always either ineffectual of deleterious.

First Premise; Man is an Incomplete Being

The majority of men are deceived. They are self- deceptive and they deceive other men. They are asleep. It is for this reason that they cannot see the real world and give it the real solutions which its problems require. Man is asleep and his solvability limitation is the result of this sleep. He cannot see; he does not know. He cannot solve his human problems because he attempts to solve them from a state of sleep. For these reasons, his answers are always incomplete. His seeing is always incomplete. His knowing and awareness are incomplete. He is an incomplete being; his inner qualities are undeveloped. P. D. Ouspensky considers man's incompletion to be the primary justification of a system for the acquisition of self-awareness: Our fundamental idea shall be that man as we know him iis not a completed being: that nature develops him only up to a certain point and then leaves him. to develop further, by his own efforts and devices, or to live and die such as he was bom, or g2 to degenerate and lose capacity for development.

^p. D. Ouspensky. Man's Possible Evolution, (New York, 1971), Alfred A. Knopf, p. B T ' The accepted pathways of current psychology are not directed toward understanding man as he is supposed to be. It attributes a consciousness to man which he does not have Ordinary psychology is very far from reality. The man it studies is an imaginary quantity. Han is not what he is supposed to be. We ascribe to ourselves ‘many qualities we do not possess. We are not conscious.63 It follows that if man is not conscious and not complete,' then he cannot have individuality, cannot have an Ego or an *1'. Though man does not possess these things, he assumes that he does. It is this fantasy which helps man to keep the illusion of consciousness. It is possible, however, for man to become conscious and, consequently, to become a complete being, but at the present time, he is neither conscious nor complete. Further illumination of the concept of complete and incomplete being is afforded by an extensive but illustrative passage from P. P. Ouspensky: It is very important to understand what is a complete being and what is an incomplete being, because if this is not understood from the beginning it will be difficult to go further. Perhaps an example will help to illustrate what I mean. Let us compare a horse-carriage with an aeroplane. An aeroplane has many possibilities that an ordinary carriage does not have, but at„the same time an aeroplane can be-used as era ordinary carriage. It would be very clumsy and inconvenient and very expensive,

d . Ouspensky, The Fourth Way. (New York, 1969) » Alfred A. Knopf, p. 27• 58 but you can attach two horses to it and travel in an aeroplane by road. Suppose the man who has this aeroplane does not * . know that it has an engine‘and can move by itself and suppose he learns about the engine — then he can dispense with the horses and use it as a motor car. But it will still bo too clumsy. Suppose that the man studios this machine and discovers that it can,fly. Certainly it will have many advantages which he missed when he used the aeroplane as a carriage. This is what we are doing with ourselves; we use ourselves as a carriage, when we could fly.°4 If the question is asked concerning why the "aeroplane" does . not-f ly,“ the answer must be given that it is because man does not know the machine. Man does not know how it works and he does not know how to put it into motion. The result of this ignorance is that the machine works at a very slow speed. Ouspensky says "The effect of this slow speed is much greater than if we compare a horse-carriage and an aeroplane."65 An observable consequence of man's incompleteness is his consequent mechanicalness. An interesting and useful allegorical description of ants and bees occurs in A New Model of the Universe. Actually, the depection of ants and bees is more than a symbolic expression of

64Ibid., p. 28. /

59 truths or generalizations. Beyond its fictional represen­ tation of a truth about man*s-mechanicalness, it portrays a similar truth about the ants and bees themselves: Indeed, when observing an ant-hill or a bee­ hive , we are always struck by two things, first by the amount of intelligence and calculation put into their primary organ­ isation and, secondly, by the complete absence of intelligence in their activities. The intelligence put into this organisation was very narrow and rigidly utilitarian, it calculated correctly within the given con­ ditions and it saw nothing outside these conditions. Yet even this intelligence was necessary only for the original calculation and estimation. Once started, the mechanism of a beehive or of an ant-hill did not require any intelligence; automatic habits and customs were automatically learned and handed down, and this ensured their being preserved un­ changed. ’Intelligence' is not only useless in a beehive or an ant-hill, it would even be dangerous and harmful. Intelligence could not hand down all the laws, rules, and methods of work with the same exactness from generation to generation. Intelligence could forgot, could distort, could add something now. Intelligence could again lead to 'mysticism,1 to the idea of a higher intelligence, to the idea of esotericism. It was therefore necessary to banish intelligence from an ideal socalistic beehive or ant-hill, as an element harmful to the community — which in fact it is.°° The preceding passage exemplifies the end state of organisms which have forfeited intelligence, will, freedom, and creativity for patent answers, conditioned responses, limited mental and physical boundaries, and scant

D. Ouspensky, A New Model of the Universe (New York, 1969) , Alfred A. Knopf, p. i. 60 inventiveness. In a word, such beings are "mechanical.” It is no different for man. Man is naturally a machine,’ and through his own kind of forfeiting, he augments his mechanicalness. The meaning of man as a machine and of his mechanicalness is readily describable: It means that he has no independent movements. inside or outsideof himself* He is a machine which is brought into motion by external influences and external impacts. All his movements, actions, words, ideas, emotions, moods, and thoughts are produced by external influences. By himself, ho is just an automaton with a certain store of memories of previous experiences, and a certain amount of reserve energy.67 Only by his own choice, however, is man foredoomed to remain a mechanical being. If, on the other hand, man \+- chooses to become otherwise, then he will diminish his mechanicalness. ”Man is a machine, but a very peculiar machine. He is a machine which, in right circumstances, and with right treatment, can know that he is a machine. and, having fully malls',od this, ho may find tho wayB to cease to be a machine."^8 A strong implication for development is emitted from this last thought, but "What does development mean? And what does it mean that man can become a different being? Or, in other words,

6^P. D. Ouspensky, Man»s Possible Evolution, p. 12.

68Ibid. , p. 13. 61 what lcind of change is possible in man, and how and when go does this change begin?" 5 Man's development definitely* cannot begin on the basis of his lying to himself. He must realize that he does not possess the qualities which he ascribes to himself. These qualities are "...capacity to do, individuality, or unity, permanent Ego, and in addition consciousness and will."'70 The tacit assumption in all of this is that if man admits the absence of qualities in hinutolf which ho claims to possosn, then the possibility of the possession of those qualities is more likely to happen, "...as long as he believes that he possesses these qualities he will not make right efforts to acquire them, exactly as a man will not buy costly things and pay a high price for them, if he thinks that he already possesses them." 71 Prom this, it can be concluded that the possession of consciousness is entirely within the realm of man's possibilities. Consciousness is one of those qualities within the possibility of man's possession only after he admits that he doeB not already possess it. A few lines from Ouspensky lend support to the notion that

*^Ibid.. p. 15* 70Ibid., p. 15-16. 71Ibid., p. 16. 62 man Can acquire consciousness: “The most important and the most misleading of these qualities is consciousness. And the change in man begins with the change in his understand­ ing of the meaning of consciousness and after that with his gradual acquiring command over it."'72 To regard conscious­ ness as "the most important" of the qualities within the possibility of man's possession iB to regard consciousness as the magnetic north on man's compass of existence. Such a comparison does not grant excessive and undeserved im­ portance to consciousness because it is consciousness as magnetic north which points man in, the direction of his t own being.

The Possibility of the Acquisition of New Levels of Consciousness

Based on the foregoing comments, it seems reasonable to assert that the acquisition of consciousness iB entirely within the range of man's possibilities. With the establish ment of this contention, it is necessary to gain a different ial view of tho lovolo of consciousness in order to cxpol the idea that all consciousness exists on the same level. A more profound explication of this concept appears in chapter two under the section headings concerned with dimehsionaltiy. For the present, it will BUffice to

72Ibid. 63 designate the various states of consciousness. "In all there are four states of consciousness.possible for man. There are two lowest states of consciousness. The first is called sleep and the second is known as the waking state. The third state of consciousness *is self-remembering or self-consciousness, and the fourth state of consciousness ' is called the objective state or cosmic consciousness. The means which leads toward the end result of acquired consciousness is self-knowledge. However, self- study is the sine quo non of self knowledge: Knowledge of oneself is a very big, but a very vaguo and distant, aim. Man in his present Btate is very far from self-knowledge. Therefore, strictly speaking, his aim cannot even be de­ fined as self-knowledge. Self-study must be his big aim. It is quite enough if a man understands that he must study himself. It muBt be man's aim to begin to study himself, to know himself. in the right way. Self-study is the work or the way which leads to self-knowledge.74 At the same time that a person is self-observing or self- studying, he must be aware of himself "... by holding the sensation of * I am here* — nothing more." 75 ^ Ouspensky'

7^P. D. Ouspensky, In Search of the Miraculous (New York, 1949), Harcourt, Brace & WorltTT Inc. p. 141^ 74Ibid., P. 105. 7^P. P. Ouspensky, Fourth Way, p. 5* 64 says that this is the "...fact that all Western psychology, without the smallest exception, has missed.Although- Ouspensky states that many pooplo came near recognizing the importance of this fact, none realized *'...that the state of man as^he is can he chapged ,,77 The steadfast and traditionally accepted belief that man is a fixed, immutable entity does not grant to either the complexity of his mechanism or the infiniteness of his psyche as much latitude for change as is usually claimed for the rock along the sea. Yet, man is ultimately the example, par excellence. of a being in the constant grips of fluctuation and change. More than enough extant testimony and facts are available to convincing support the idea that man has changed himself. And proof may continue to be heaped upon proof without successfully penetrating the sleep state of most human \ eings. For man to change himself, he must want to change hims elf. That statement has become a classic cliche. Man is s till-born in his living; that is his starting place. All else proceeds from that point. Nothing, however, can occur if man does not ignite himself. He must make the cliche a new thought. And taking that thought into himself and acting from its impetus, he can begin to change. The change that man must alert himself to

76Ibid. 77Ibid. is the change of perception and attitude toward self. He must learn to look at himself, seriously, intensely, frequently, and completely. Only in looking at himself in this way can man accomplish the self-knowledge which will give him access to a higher'level of consciousness. Assuredly, man can choose to give himself a pinch on the side which will cause him to awaken, and it is only when man is awake that he can successfully and completely solve his human problems.

Third Fromis: Consciousness Affects Educational Ambience

If one characteristic were forwarded which could epitomize that which is least existent in an American school student and that which numerous authorities equate with man*s only hope for survival in contemporary society, it would have to be the characteristic of change. However, like the paradox of progress, change can manifest in re­ gression as well as in creation. There seems to be an inherent self-deception in efforts to change just as there are inherent self-deceptions in efforts to move construc­ tively forward from one point to another. The deceptions frequently takes on the proportions of relativity in the strictest sense of the word: is it that a person is standing quite still when other men about are in a state of flux and change? Or is it that a man moves while the surrounding men are quite still? To answer this twofold question is to peel off the top layer of deception from * atop the greater core of deception Which lies beneath. That greater core of deception has the attributes of direction and motion. A person cannot change and progress while remaining at the same point. His actualized change would, by way of definition and fulfillment, necessitate a relinquishment of the point at which he started the process of change* In other words, a person cannot both change and not change. Actually, though, this is exactly the case for self-deceptive human beings , and the province of education seems to have an inbred, self-perpetuating mechanic for the on-going, ceaseless production of self— deceptive human beings. Teachers and administrators, as well as curriculum designers and curricular theorists, are mostly self-deceptive in meeting .the threat of change. Consequently, their investments and contributions are made self-deceptively* While believing that they are engen­ dering an environment in which students can develop the insights and attitudes necessary for survival in a con­ stantly changing society, such teachers, administrators, and assorted planners are actually creating a milieu in which self-truth and insights for survival are replaced by the preservation and perpetuation of techniques necessary for the maintenance of self-deception. Man 67 must be shown how to help himself to survive, to change, i and to surmount his mechanicalness. It is the most important of a school's functions to provide the time, the people, arid the atmosphere for the orgination of survival concepts: The Basic Function of all education, even in the most traditional sense, is to increase the survival prospects of the group. If this function is fulfilled, the group survives. If not it doesn't. There have been times when this function was not fulfilled, and groups (some of them are even called 'civilizations') disappeared. Generally, this resulted from changes in the kinds of threats the group faced. The threats changed, but the education did not, and so the group, in a way, 'disappeared itself' (to use a phrase from Catch-22)• The tendency seems to be for most 'educational* systems, from patterns of training in 'primitive' tribal societies to school systems in technological societies, to fall imperceptibly into a role devoted exclusively to the conservation of old ideas, concepts, attitudes, skills, and per­ ceptions. This happens largely because of the unconsciously held belief that these old ways of thinking and doing are necessary, to the survival of the g r o u p . 7o Even though survival in a stable society is con­ tingent on maintaining particular strategies that were developed in the past, a paradoxical situation occurs when change is the principal characteristic of the society itself: Then the task turns inside out - survival in a rapidly changing environment depends almost

^®Postman & Weingertner, Teaching As Subversive Activity. p. 207-208. 68 entirely upon being able to identify which of the old concepts are relevant to the demands imposed by new threats to survival, and which are not. Then a new educational task becomes critical: getting the group to unlearn (to 'forget*) the irrelevant concepts as a prior condition to learning*. What we are saying is that 'selective forgetting' is necessary to survival.79 Abraham H. Maslow understands the futility of teaching obsolete facts and senses a change of pace in history. For him, and for other serious thinkers, the high acceleration in the growth of facts, of knowledge, of techniques, of inventions, and of advances in technology requires a change in man's attitude toward himself as a man and toward himself as a man in relationship to the world. 8 0 Accordingly, Maslow says "...we need a differont kind of human being to bo ablo to livo in a world which changes perpetually, which doesn't stand still*" 81 Maslow's position toward change is similar to that of Postman and Weingartner. Maslow advocates the relinquishment of "tried and true methods of the past, in favor of trying to create a new kind of human being who is comfortable with change. 82

79lbid.. p. 208 80 Abraham H. Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, 1971), The Viking tress, p. 5BT 81Ibid. 82Ibid. 69 This new kind of human being is able to improvise, able to face an unforeseen situation with strength, confidence, 8 ^ and courage. J A passage from Maslow further explains the idea of the need for a new kind of person: What I'm talking about is the job of- trying to make ourselves over into people who don't need to staticize the world, who don't need to freeze it and to make it stable, who don't need to do what their daddies did, who are able confidently to face tomorrow not knowing what's going to come, not knowing what will happen, with con­ fidence enough in ourselves that we will be able to improvise in that situation which has never existed before. This means a new type of human being. Heraclitian, you might call him.°4 The need for the existence of the Heraclitian being is equal to the need to perpetuate society. If people are indifferent about the survival of their society, then they will also be careless about the kind of beings which they choose to become. .Therein lies the key to becoming any kind of human being: a person must choose. A man becomes what he chooses to become. Man is not bora into his humanness; he is only human when he chooses to be human. The quality of his humanness depends on the level of consciousness on which his choosing occurs. A man is not human without choosing to be* He is simply one of a species, an organism, a machine. Man cannot become a different kind

8^Ibid. 84Ibid.. p. 59. of human being until he first chooses to become a human t being per se» It is suspected, then, that the choice which man must make about his being, in order to survive and in order to sustain his society, is twofold instead of singular* The implication concerning man’s sovereignty of choice in becoming a different kind of human being is unequivocal in Maslow's mind* The key phrase from the foregoing quotation which exemplifies this assertion^ is "...trying to make ourselvos over into people. It is the "...to make ourselves..." which indicates the direction in which man's thinking about change should move. It is this phrase of the quotation which tells man that the power to choose to change lies within himself. From the above thoughts, it is easy to gravitate toward a criticism of the proverbial environment in which the thwarting of a person's responsibility to choose reaches the exactness of a mathematics or a science. It is loath­ some to encounter so apparent a contradiction in society as that which exists in the province of education. Therein, even a one-eyed, half-asleep observer can note the un­ mistakable cross-purposes of the typical enactment of a typical curriculum in a typical school. Used in this context, a definition of "typical" can be determined by a . « sort of circular logic: that which provides, be it enactment, curriculum, or school, sustainment for the "loathsome contradiction" is typical. Next, it is • * imcumbent to explicate the phrase "loathsome contradiction. There are multidudinous examples of significant contradictions discoverable within the educational province The contradictions are significant because they reflect the ineffectuality of most American, educational under­ takings. The same contradictions are ugly to look at and ugly to know about because they expose the truth about the wasted time of students* lives and about how that time is stolen from the purpose of self-actualization and used to feed the ungry, ravenous gut of an insensitive, institu­ tional routine. For these reasons, the contradictions often found in an educational environment is too prodigious to list anywhere except on an Egyptian schroll. If, however, just a few of these contradictions are pointed out, the idea,, can still be established that most school environments, and the practices used therein, are duplicitous, hypocritical, and deceitful. First of all, "Children in the usual classroom learn very quickly that creativity is punished, while repeating a memorized response is rewarded, and concentrate on what the teacher wants them to say rather than understanding ftc the problem." J Ironically, most school environments

85Ibid., p. 181. 72 are not conducive to the engendering, promoting, or sustaining of creative temperaments and of creative ac­ tivities. Neither the administration nor the staff in most schools is prepared to cope with change, innovation, or newness, and yet, it is these traits which are characteristic of the creative mind and of the creative output. The irony concerning the environment for the encouragement of creativity within the schools occurs because efforts are directed toward establishing the illusion of such an environment when, in actuality, no such environment ever exists. It is along these lines that mighty efforts of tokenism are made. For example, administrators may grant teachers permission to arrange the chairs in any manner desirable just as long as, in the end, a pattern suggestive of rows is still discernible. Equally self-sdefeating latitude is evidenced when teachers tell students that creativeness is at a premium when it is actualized in accordance with the confines of a pre­ scribed curriculum. This loathsome contradiction is the result of hypocracy; it is not the result of irony. Irony is but the, stage on which devious stratagems are enacted. The deliberate duality of intention, that is, the in­ tention only to appear to facilitate while actually intending to oppress, warrants the appellation of loathsomeness• 73 Another disagreeable characteristic of* most school environments is the distorted conceptualization of accomplishment. "Perhaps the most important thing they (schools) can do is to give the child a sense of accomp— lishment." 86 Maslow*s remark is delivered in response to the question, "What can the schools do to counteract the death wish in kindergarten, to strengthen the wish for life in the first grade?"07 Although accomplishment can be a strengthening factor in self-affirmation and, sub­ sequently, life-affirmation, the twisted perception of what exactly constitutes accomplishment in a typical school environment runs counter to any affirmation except that which perpetuates the schooling system.i Framing it another way, a distortion of a famous biblical admonition, descriptive of a sense of accomplishment in a school environment, might declare: let the school do unto you that which you should do unto it: serve in unthinking silence* A more exact framing of this thought might even reach this extreme: let the school do that harm unto you which you would never do unto yourself. Accomplishment, in terms of schooling, is equal to acquiescing to the schooling regimen and to acquiring a folio replete with

06Ibid.. p. 188. 07Ibid. 74 high marks* Disallowed is the mutual help among students in the same classroom and the evolvement of individual self-affirmation as the result of such mutual help. "Another important goal of intrinsic education is to see that the child's basic psychological needs are satisfied. A child cannot reach self-actualization until his needs for security, belongingness, dignity, love, respect, and esteem are all satisfied." 88 Assuming, which this quotation does, that self-actualization is something which the schools ought to facilitate by pro­ viding a conducive environment, a brief encounter with most students in most typical schooling situations re­ veals the environment to be promotive of insecurity, alienation, indignity, indifference, disrespect, and disesteem. Any particular example of a teacher subjecting a student to the inflexible authority of a school system would surely suffice to illustrate why self-actualization is minimal and why the thwarting of need fulfillment is maximum. Standing a child in a comer is a simple illustration of a complex crime. Through the enactment of this measure, a teacher kills the fulfillment of a student's needs for security, belongingness, dignity, love, respect,.esteem, and ultimately, self-actualization.

88Ibid.. p. 190. This is not the case if a student, who is subjected to I a » this measure, quickly determines that his life goal is to become human wallpaper; otherwise, such measures, which are accepted techniques of the traditional repertoire, only contribute to the final death of self. Maslow pro­ vides a statement which, in an of itself, is explicit of a certain fact and which taken emblematically suggests the horror resulting from a particular kind of deprivation found in most schools. "Hospital staffs have learned that unloved babies die early from colds." 8Q ?

" i b i d . . p. 193. CHAPTER II

. 4 1 ^ THE NEW GENERALIZATION

The center of gravity for this investigation has been, and will continue to be , a concentration on the concept of consciousness. Because consciousness holds a central position in this study, the objective of this chapter is to present substantial arguments both for the validation of the concept of consciousness, itself, and for the validation of the contention that levels of consciousness exist. An implication was made in chapter one that con­ sciousness is at the center of explanations which various authorities offer for the solvability of human problems. It was additionally indicated in the introduction that the thoughts of these investigators would, when necessary, be used as secondary sources to support assertions made in this study concerning consciousness. Furthermore, it was clearly stated that the work of P. 3). Ouspensky would provide the primary foundation on which much of this investigation would be built. There are fundamental reasons why the work of Ouspensky is being allowed to overshadow all other men's works in this investigation. First, higher concepts, by their nature, require a system for adequate explication and elucidation. Ouspensky*s work provides such a system. Second, mixing systems is a contradiction for the nature of systems. It is like pouring more water than wine into the same vessel in order to better understand the nature of wine , or, on the other hand, it is like pouring more wine than water into the same vessel and exclaiming ”Here is water! The wine has helped to make clear the nature of water!” Certain people may say that it is useful to pick a little from this system and to take a little from that one so that a new one might be built. This may be true, but only if the building of a new system is actually intended. Otherwise f tho only things that will occur will bo the violation of two separate systems and the accumulation of a hodgepodge of ideas. The third reason why Ouspensky*s work is being allowed to prevail over the work of other thinkers is be­ cause it is the most lucid, coherent, and enlightening system to date that deals directly with the concept of i' consciousness. Ouspensky*s system encompasses other systems which have attempted to accomplish the same task. The improtant difference between other thinkers and Ouspensky is that the former have retreated from bold theories and have failed to comprehend the space-related aspect of consciousness while Ouspensky has fearlessly 4 grappled with bold geheralizations and has succeeded in correlating cosmological considerations with consciousness. Unquestionably, the boldest generalization that - Ouspensky makes is the one hearing on space , time, and motion. In an introduction to one of Ouspensky's hooks • t Claude Bragdon says, "This generalization involves startling and revolutionary ideas in regard to space 9 time, and motion far removed from those of Euclidian geometry and classical physics.** Moreover, Ouspensky*i ideas relating to time, space, and motion are directly correlated with his concepts of consciousness: By a method hoth ingenious and new he (Ouspensky) correlates the different grades of consciousness ohservahle in nature - those of vegetable-animal, animal and man - with the space sense, showing that as consciousness changes and develops, the sense of space changes and develops too. That is to say, the dimensionality of the world depends on the development of consciousness. Man, having reached the third stage in that development, has a sense of three-dimen­ sional space - and for no other reason. 2 In the next lines-from the same passage, Claude Bragdon in restating Ouspensky*s conclusion regarding the correlation between space, time, motion and levels of consciousness, clearly indicates the monumental height to which Ouspensky has commended’consciousness: Ouspensky concludes that nothing except consciousness unfolds, develops, and as

1 Ouspensky, *Tertium Organum. p. 5. 2Ibid. . p. 4. there appears to he no limit to this develop­ ment, he conceives of space as.the multi­ dimensional mirror of consciousness and of time and motion as illusion - what appears to be time and motion in reality only the ^ movement of .consciousness upon a higher space. The word "higher** has a significantly exact meaning in that it bears directly upon the ultimate reach of ultimate consciousness. If awareness possessed the attributes of physical height then "higher space" could be taken as a symbolic expression connotative of the possible viewpoint obtainable from the level of conscious­ ness that is sometimes called cosmic consciousness. In other words v Ouspensky ultimately provides a logic which allows for the acceptance of a view of totality. The word or concept "totality" must be understood to mean "all." It is the allowance for this view of "all" which the higher logic of Ouspensky provides; this system of high logic is called Tertium Organium: I have called this system of higher logic Tertium Organium because for us it, is the third canon — third instrumenF"- of"Thought after those of Aristotle and Bacon. The first was the Organon. the second, Novum Organum. But the third existed earlier than the first. Man, master of this instrument, of this key, may open the door of the world of causes without fear.4

3Ibid. 4Ibid.. p. 236. 80 The new generalization, then, is predicated on the higher logic, and the concepts of higher logic deserve, in fact, necessitate, a careful depiction. First, however, the axioms which support the new generalization must he recognized and discussed in so far as recognition and discussion are possible. Id est. "The axioms which Tertium Organum embraces cannot be formulated in our language. If we attempt to formulate them in spite of R this, they will produce the impression of absurdities."^ How, then, is it possible to do the impossible? There is a way. "Taking the axioms of Aristotle as a model, we may express the principal axiom of the new logic (generalization) in our poor earthly language" But, what are the Aristotlelism and Baconian axioms on which the axioms of the Tertium Organum are based? They are ex­ pressed in the following excerpts from Ouspensky's work.

Our usual logic, by which wo live, without, which *tho shoemaker will not sow the boot,' is deduced from the simple scheme formulated by Aristotle in those writings which were edited by his pupils under the common name of Organon. i.e., the •instrument* (of thought). This scheme consists in the following:

5Ibid. 6Ibid. 81 A is A. A 1J3 not NOT-A. Everything is either A or NOT-A, The logic embraced in this scheme - the logic of Aristotle - is quite sufficient for observation. But for experiment it is insufficient, because the experiment proceeds in time. and in the formulae of Aristotle time is not taken into consideration. This was observed at the very dawn of the establishment of our experimental science - observed by Roger Bacon, and formulated several centuries later by his famour namesake , Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, in the treatise Novum Organum - the ’New Instrument* (of thought;• Briefly, the formulation of Bacon may be reduced to the following: That which was A, will be A. That which was Not-A. wTTl be Not—A. Everything was and will be. either A or Not-A. Upon these formulae f acknowledged or unacknowledged, all our scientific experience is built, and upon them, too, is shoe-making founded, because if a shoemaker could not be sure that the leather bought yesterday would be leather tomorrow, in all probability, he would not venture to make a pair of shoes, but would find some other more profitable employment .7 The illustration of the shoemaker and the leather, in addition to objectifying the formulae of logic of both AriBtotle and Bacon, exemplifies the restrictiveness of these same formulae.

[The formulae] are themselves deduced from the observation of facts, and do not and cannot

7Ibid. . p. 81-82. 82 include anything except the contents of these facts. They are not the laws of reasoning, hut the laws of the outer world as it is perceived by us, or the laws of our relation to the outer world Since these formulae "do not and cannot include anything except the contents of these facts," the formulae of logic of Aristotle is useful only as a model for the approximate expression of the Tertium Organum or the axioms of higher . logic: Taking the axioms of Aristotle as a model, we may express the principal axiom of the new logic in our poor earthly language in the following manner: A is both A and Not-A. or Everything is both A and Not—A. or Everything is All. But these axioms are in effect absolutely impossible. They are not the axioms of higher logic. they are merely attempts to express tne axioms of this logic in concepts. Xn reality the ideas of higher logic are inexpressible in concepts. When we encounter such an inexpressibility it q means that we have touched the world of causes.

6Ibid., p. 82. 9Ibid.. p. 235. 83 At this point, a pertinent question looms: What exactly is the nature of the higher logic? Or, exactly what is the difference between the other axioms of logic and the higher logic that permits the latter to apprehend the "All," or higher world, and the former to remain out­ side of the realm of comprehension? Part of the answer can be found after a brief but revealing look at mathematics:

...MATHEMATICS has already found the path into that higher order of things. Penetrating there, it first of all renounces its fundamental axioms of identity and difference. In the world of infinite and fluent magnitudes a magnitude may be not equal to itself; a part may be equal to the whole, and of two equal magnitudes one may be infinitely greater than the other. All this sounds like an absurdity from the standpoint of the mathematics of finite and constant numbers. But the mathematics of finite and constant numbers is itself the calculation of relations between nonexistent magnitudes, i.e., an absurdity. And therefore only that which from the standpoint of this mathematics seems an absurdity, can be the truth/1*) In order to apprehend the higher world, logic must also renounce "...its fundamental axioms of identity and difference.” It must follow along the course of mathmetics and ”... renounce itself., come to perceive the necessity for its own annihilation - then out of it

10ibid 8 4 a new and higher logic can arise." 11 It was this sort of phoenix-of-logic, consumed by its own limitations and yet reborn from these very same limitations, that arose from Kant • s Critique of Pure Reason* It was Kant who "... proved the possibility of transcendental logic." 12 Historical considerations of transcendental logic show that the formulae for this higher logic were given "Before Bacon and earlier than Aristotle, in the ancient Hindu scriptures*• • " 1 J^ Furthermore, "•*. the meaning of these formulae was rapidly lost. They were preserved in ancient books, but remained there as some strange mummeries of extinguished thought, the words without real content."^4 Century after century the principles always rediscovered by other thinkers, but the principles always remained incomprehensible, unintelligible, or recondite* Perhaps the meaning of the idea expressed by these principles was shrouded from comprehension by decorative and embellishing language* The truth of that supposition is not traceable* Nonetheless, even though

11Ibid. 12Ibid.

1 14Ibid. 85 - • 4 c the principles were obscured, "...the idea persisted.” 3 Mystical philosophy never considered the logic of Aristotle to be either adequately encompassing or all-embracing. Mystical philosophy ”••.built its system outside of logic or above logic, unconsciously going along those paths of thought paved in remote antiquity." 16 Ouspensky Bays that the system of mystical philosophy which was built "outside of logic" may be called intuitive logic or "...the logic of infinity, the logic of ecstasy."17 Ouspensky glibly professes the existence of intuitive logic in the following excerpt: Not only is this logic possible, but it exists. and has existed from time immemorial; it has been formulated many times; it has entered into philosophical systems as their key - but for some strange reason has not been recognized as logic. It is possible to deduce the system of this logic from many philosophical systems. The most precise and complete formulation of the law of higher logic I find in the writing of Plotinus, in his On Intelligible Beauty. It is of considerable avail, for an examination of higher logic, to look onward from Ouspensky*s assertion and to see precisely the formulation of the law of higher logic as it is presented in Plotinus* own words; here are

15Ibid. 16Ibid. 17Ibid. 18Ibid.. p. 236. >5

86 a few excerpts from On Intelligent Beauty; For light everywhere meets1 with light; since everything contains all things in itselT~an3T again sees all things^in another. So that all things are everywhere. and all is all, feach thing likewise is everything. End the splendor there is infinvEe*. For everything there is great, since even that which is small is great. The sun too which is there is all the stars; and again each star is the sun and all the stars... In each however, a different property predominates, hut at the same time all things are visible in eachP V The idea of unity, oneness, or wholeness which per­ vades this passage from Plotinus is further reiterated in a subsequent expression from the same treatise. 11 There each part always proceeds from the whole. and is at the same time each part and the whole. For it appears indeed as a part: but by him whose sight is acute. it will be seen as a whole.• • .**2 0 A last selection from the same work of Plotinus speaks about the origin of the wisdom possessed "by him whose sight is acute.11 Describing such wisdom, or knowledge, Plotinus says: And the knowledge which is possible there is insatiable...• For by seeing itself more abundantly it perceives both itself and the objects of its perception to be finite, it follows its own nature (in unceasing contem­ plation) • The life there is wisdom; a wisdom not obtained by a reasoning process,

l9Ibid., p. 253. 20Ibid. 87 because the whole of it always was. and is not in any respect deficient, so as to be in want of investigation* But it is the first wisdom, and is not de­ rived from another*21 The phrases "first wisdom" and "not derived from another" need not be interpreted quite literally. A literal interpretation is not as wrong as it is simply limiting. A "first wisdom" which "is not derived from another" is a wisdom independent of accessibility. Higher logic is its own sphere. There is no way for one man who possesses higher logic to knowingly give this wisdom to another man. Such knowledge is exclusive; it is its own. It is all. On the other hand, derivation is an applicable idea of higher logic if by deviation is meant a sequence of successive psychic changes. For example, man senses, and an aggregate of sensations eventually becomes a percept. The accumulation of percepts, after a certain effort to catagorize and to classify, results in a concept. The superfluity of concepts relating to and centered around a central, or common core can precipitate an intui­ tion. Even though the sequential change from sensation to intuition is a phenomenon accepted by numerous psychologists, the connection between concept and intuition is frequently viewed as the weakest link of the sequence. Similarly,

21Ibid.. p. 254. 88 if any one, separate factor of the total sequence is

» * questionalbe, it is probably "intuition," alone* Intuition and Science The word "intuition" is similar to such words as "happiness," and "fairness" in that these words are available for usage, but not apparently correspondent to anything in the "real" world* To put it another way, there exists a tendency to renounce as being "unreal," anything which cannot be put in the hand* It is entirely easy for a man to pretend to accept intuition or for a man to dupe himself into believing that he accepts it, but the intuitional intimates the mystical, and for this reason, intuition, as an existent entity, looses credence* Joyce Carol Oates claims that even when a thinker such ..."as H* D* Laing.insists that the 'mystical* experience is available in ordinary experience, the reaction of the average person even or especially the average intelligent person is to read no further." 22 An explanation for this quality of reaction might be that the "average person" wishes to remain on scientific ground* This wish to re­ main on scientific ground is usually predicated on the belief that no other kind of ground "really'* exists* In

^Joyce Carol Oates, "The Potential of Normality," Saturday Review. LV, Number.35, (August 26, 1972), p* 53» 89 defense of another ground, on which the non-limitation of knowledge is a characteristic, as well as in re­ pudiation of the scientific ground, on which the limita­ tion of knowledge is typical, Ouspensky offers an ex— i tensive pronouncement: Developing science, i.e., objective knowledge, is encountering.obstacles everywhere. Science studies phenomena; just as soon as it attempts to discover causes.it is confronted with the wall of the unknown, and to it unknowable. The question narrows itself Blown to this: is this unknowable absolutely unknowable, or is it so only for the methods of our science? At the present time the situation is just this: the number of unknown facts in every region of scientific knowledge is rapidly increasing; and the unknown threatens to swallow the known - or the accepted as known. One might define the progress of science, especially latterly, as a very rapid growth of the regions of nescience. Nescience of course existed before, and not in less degree than at present. But before, it was.not so clearly recognized — at that time science did not know what it does not know. Now it knows this more and more, and more and more knows it conditionality. A little more, and in every separate branch of science that which it does not know will become greater than •fchat wKTch it knows. In every department science itself is beginning to repudiate its own foundations. A little more, and science in its entirety will ask, "Where am I?,23 This pronouncement against the departments of science

2^Ouspensky, Tertium Organum. p. 210. 90 and against science, per se, taken as a whole, is offered as authoritative validation in support of the contention that science as a logical and instrumental method for the discovery of the higher world fails because of its self- imposed limitations. In other words, science fails be­ cause of its own nature or because it is science. Ouspensky*s opinion is more than adequately substantiated by the system of reason and logic which he utilizes within the boundaries of his system. The particular latitude of this investigation does not permit a complete and detailed analysis of the failings of science comparable to that which is indigenous to Ouspensky*s work. Consequently, it is hoped that reference to Ouspensky, who has within the scope of his own work decidedly illustrated the limitations of science, will suffice as authoritative justification.for similar views within this study. A discussion of Ouspensky*s entire system is malapropos to the intention of this study. That degree of involve­ ment with his system is unnecessary in this investigation. For corroboration of the ideas expounded in this particular study, only certain, key thoughts are used from the total work of Ouspensky. It is assumed that a fuller discussion of his ideas necessitates direct confrontation with Ouspensky*s own work. Positivism and Science » * To say that Positivism is the result of science is to speak a truth, but to say that positivism and science are synonymous is to be inaccurate* Science is basically a method of action* Positivism is a way of thinking about the results of that method of actions "Positive thinking — which conceived of its problem as the deducing of general conclusions from the findings of each separate science and all of them combined* •• Positivism claims to know the truth of a thing by means of description. Positivists falsely assume that to name an entity is to know an entity. Phenomena are the preoccupation of Positivists* Positivists believe that if man can know the physical existence of an entity, then he will know the entirety of that entity. Positivists do not allow for the existence of hidden knowledge of any entity. Hence, the positivists renounce mysticism and apotheosize science. The scientific concentration is on the examination of phenomena through the use of instruments that simply extend five of man's senses, sight, touch, taste, hearing, and smell. Resultantly, the best that the scientific enquiry can expect, as long as its concentration is Bolely on physical attributes, is only an elaborate

24Ibid.. p. 210. description of an object*a physicality. Ouspensky*s asseverations depicting positivism are entirely in agreement with the preceding comment! By positivism I mean, in this connection, that system which affirms, in contradiction to Kant, that the study of phenomena can bring us nearer to things in themselveB, i.e., which affirms that by going along the path of the study of phenomena we can come to an under­ standing of causes, and - this is important - which regards physico-mechanical phenomena as the cause of biological and psychic phenomena. The usual positivistic view denies the existence of the hidden side of life. i.e., it finds that the' hidden side consists of oloctro-magnotic phonomona and opono to us only little by little - and that the progress of science consists in the gradual unveiling of the hidden.25 The startling delusion which underlies the positivist's approach to the hidden knowledge of phenomena is sardonically portrayed by Ouspensky in a succeeding passage: •This is not know as yet.* says the positivist, when his attention is called to something 'hidden,* but it will be known. Science, going by the same path TiEai it has gone up to now, will discover this also. Five hundred years ago, Europe did not know of the existence of America; seventy years ago we did not know of the existence of bacteria; twenty-five years ago we did not know of the existence of radium. But America, bacteria and radium are all discovered now. Similarly and by the same methods, and by such methods only, will be discovered everything that is to be discovered. The apparatuses are being perfected, the methods,

25Ibid., p. 211 93 processes and observations are being refined. That which we did not even suspect a hundred years ago, has now become a generally known and generally understood fact. Everything that is possible to be known will become known after this manner. Thus do the adherents of the positivistic viewpoints speak, but at the foundation of these reasonings lies a deep delusion.20 There are regions, properly called districts of existence, toward which or into which science and positivistic thinking have never taken a single step. "There are multitudes of problems the solving of which science has not even attempted; problems in the presence of which the contemporary scientist, armed with all his science, is as helpless as a savage or a four-year-old child." 27 The scientific method is incomplete, inaccurate, and ineffectual when confronted by the problem of dis­ covering anything beyond the objective. But what is objectivity?. Ouspensky offers a laconic and useful definition of objectivity: We can define it in this way: because of the properties of our reception, or because of the conditions under which our psyche works, we segregate a small number of facts into a definite group. This group of facts represents in itself the objective world, and is accessible to the investigation of science.20 The inherent implication in Ouspensky*s definition suggests

26Ibid. 27Ibid., p. 212. 28Ibid. , p. 213. 94 that something more exists, beyond "this group of facts" and beyond the segregation of "a small number of facts" which is not knowable through the limited receptivity of science* By the aid of the scientific method only a particular and limited kind of knowledge can be acquired: •••we can discover the chemical composition of remote stars; can photograph the skeleton within the human body, invisible to the human eye; can invent a floating mine which can be controlled from a distance by means of electrical waves, and can in this way annihilate in a moment hundreds of lives; but by the aid of this method we cannot tell what the man standing beside us is thinking about. No matter how much we may weigh, sound or photograph a man, we shall never know his thoughts unless he himself tells them to us. BUT THIS 15 TRULY QUITE"X DIFFERENT-- METHOD.29 A Different Method

If a "different method" of investigation permits the revealment of hidden knowledge, then it can be said that the enactment' of the tenets upon which this investigation is founded necessitates the acquirement of a "different method." A method which is able to discover hidden knowledge must also be a method that is able to transcend the three-dimensional world. The objective knowledge derivable from the scientific method may grow depending on the development of its apparatus and the improvement of its experiments and observations. But, however re­ fined or rarefied the scientific method may become, it cannot transcend the limits of the three-dimensional

29Ibid., p. 212. 95 world. It cannot transcent "...the conditions of space

* and time, for the reason that objective knowledge is created under these conditions, and the conditions of the existence of the three—dimensional world are the conditions of its existence."3® Objective knowledge is bounded by the conditions of time and space, and for objective knowledge to be otherwise, it would simply have to cease to exist. "Perpetual motion, i.e., the violation of the fundamental laws of the three-dimensional world as we know it, would be the only victory over the three- dimensional world in the three—dimensional world itself."^■ai It seems that, at this point, the perimeter of the circle which races onward toward a way of knowing is coming back to its starting place to meet with the original question: what is the "different method"?

To begin. i* 1 to describe the nature of the "different method," the possession of essential information is pre­ requisite. First, it is "...necessary to remember that objective knowledge does not study facts, but only the perception of facts." ■ao The recipient of man's per­ ception is matter. Matter is three-dimensional, and "This three-dimensionality is the form of our receptivity.

30Ibid., p. 214. 31Ibid. 32Ibid. 96 Hatter of four dimensions would imply a change in the form of our receptivity• For a change in receptivity to occur, a change in perception must happen, "IN ORDER THAT OBJECTIVE KNOWLEDGE SHALL. TRANSCEND THE LIMITS OP THE THREEJDIMENSIONAL SPHERE, IT IS NECESSARY THAT THE CONDITIONS OF.PERCEPTION SHALL CHANGE."34 The limited psyche of animals is evidence in support of the foregoing statement. An animal*s psyche, such as that of a dog or a cat, is vastly more limited than that of a human being. The dog and cat are, by nature, locked in the second- dimension. The limited psyche of a dog or of a cat is directly reflective of the dimension in which such an animal exists. For this reason, "It is impossible to convey to a dog the idea of the sphericality of the earth; to make it remember the weight of the sun and the distances between the planets is equally impossible."From the «■ preceding, it is safe to assume that the objective knowledge of a dog and of a cat is limited because of their limited perception or receptivity. "Thus we see that objective knowledge depends upon the properties of

33Ibid., p. 213* 34Ibid., p. 214. 35Ibid. j

9 7 the psyche."3*’ One intended implication of the foregoing paragraph is to establish the idea that another kind of knowledge exists in addition to objective knowledge; this other kind of knowledge has been called "hidden knowledge." A more exacting examination of both kinds of knowledge, inde­ pendent of one smother and in relationship to one another, is the immediate and pertinent task of this study. Before that kind of examination occurs, however, the renaming of * terms is of first concern. Phenomena

So far, objective knowledge haB been used inter­ changeably with the word "phenomena." For the remainder of this study, the term "phenomena", will be preferred over the phrase "objective knowledge." Nevertheless, phenomena taken as a concept requires additional attentions According to our method of apprehending them and by the form of their transition into one smother we discern three orders of phenomena: Physical phenomena (i.e., all phenomena studied by physics and chemistry); -phenomena of life (all phenomena studied by biology and TTs subdivisions); psychic phenomena (thoughts, feelings, sensations, etc•).Si Physical phenomena are known by means of sense organs or by apparatus. "Many recognized physical

36Ibid. 37Ibid.. p. 122. 98 phenomena are not observed directly; they are merely projections of the assumed causes of our sensations, or those of the causes of other phenomenaThe temperature of absolute zero is a case in point.39 The direct observation of phenomena of life isnot possible. "We cannot project them as the cause of definite sensations. But certain groups of sensations force us to assume in certain groups of physical phenomena the presence of the phenomena of life.**40 In manner of speaking physical phenomena, in a certain grouping, forces the recognition of the phenomena of life. Additionally, the procreative power of organisms intimates the presence of the phenomena of life.4^ The feelings and thoughts that man knows to be in himself by direct sensation is proof of the existence of physhic phenomena. AO There are these means for assuming the existence of psychic phenomena in other mens "(1) from analogy with ourselves; (2) from their manifestation in

^ 38Ibid. 39Ibid. 4QIbid. 4^Ibid.. p. 123. 42Ibid. f 99 actions and (3) from that which we gather by the aid of speech.”A-i Ouspensky offers a significant insight into the transformations of phenomena: Physical phenomena transform themselves into one another completely*. * .But physical -phenomena do not transform themselves into the phenomena oT life,...Insimilar manner physical; chemical and mechanical phenomena cannot themselves produce the - phenomena of consciousness, i.e., of thought.44 Positivists claim that all three orders of phenomena are the result of one cause which lies within the realm of physics. This cause is allegedly identical with physical energy. Such an idea, however, appears to be entirely arbitrary. Physical phenomena cannot create the phenomena of life and the phenomena of consciousness. For this roason, it is rightly suspootod that oomothing exists in the phenomena of life and in the phenomena of consciousness which does not exist in physical phenomena. Furthermore, the measurement of physical, biological, and psychic phenomena cannot be accomplished by a similar unit of measurement. Only physical phenomena can be measured, and the ultimate meaning of this measurement is, nonethe- less, questionable. 45 ^

43Ibid. 44ibid.. p. 123. 45ibid. 100 Having briefly established the differences amont phenomena, a question yet remains of consequence to the examination of phenomena: What is phenomena taken independently of man's receptivity and sensation of them: Ouspensky provides a curt reply to this question when he says "We know a phenomenon just as much and just as far as it is irritation, i.e. , to the extent that it provokes sensation."4^ Ouspensky, in the following passage, delineates the fallacy in the positivist's philosophy that sees electro-magnetic energy as the basis of all phenomena: The positivistic philosophy sees mechanical motion of electro-magnetic energy as the basis of all phenomena. But the hypothesis of vibrating atoms or of units of energy - electrons and cycles of motion, combinations of which create different 'phenomena' - is only an hypothesis built upon a perfectly arbitrary and artifical assumption concerning the existence of the World in time and space. Just as soon as we discover that the conditions of time and space are merely the properties of our sensuous receptivity, we absolutely destroy the validity of the hypothesis of 'energy' as the foundation of everything; because time and space are necessary for energy, i.e., it is necessary for time and space to be properties • of the world and..not properties of consciousness. Thus in reality we know nothing about the causes of phenomenal? In other words the positivists are wrong to assume that

46Ibid., p. 127. 47Ibid. 101 the thing—in-itself can be known by studying the phenomenon: The question concerning the relation of the phenomenon to the thing-in-itself, i.e. , to the indwelling reality, has been from far back the chief and most difficult concern of philosophy. Can we , studying phenomena, get at the very cause of them, at the very, substance of things? Kant has said definitely: No!— by studying phenomena we do not even approach to the understanding of things in themselves. Recognizing the correctness of Kant's view, if we desire to approach to an understanding of things in themselves, we must seek an entirely different method, an utterly different path from that which positive science, which studies phenomena. is treading.48 The "thing-in-itself” is a phrase which suggests the hidden knowledge that is the essence of any phenomena. A necessary examination of the concept regarding hidden knowledge will proceed with more linguistic ease after a second effort to rename terms has occured. Noumenon

The phrases "thing-in-itself" and "hidden knowledge though conveying specific and unique connotations, can be justifiably counted as being two aspectual considerations of a more encompassing idea, the idea of noumenon. More­ over, to facilitate an approach to the examination of the essence of phenomena, forthwith, the phrases "hidden knowledge'* and "thing-in-itself" will be subsumed within . # • • * the more inclusive idea of "noumenon."

48ibid. 102 So it is that noumenon exists in the minds of positivists as the incomprehensible truth of any phenomena. The positivist cannot know the truth or noumenon of an object by studying the object's appearance: The positivistic scientist finds himself in the presence of nature almost in the position of a savage in a library of rare .and valuable books. For a savage a book is a thing of definite size and weight. However long he may ask himself what purpose this strange thing serves, he will never discover the truth from its appearance; and the contents of the book will remain for him the incomprehensible noumenon.49 The existence of the difference between phenomena and noumena is actual. Attesting to this difference is the usual quality of man's knowledge. After diligent and unremitting confrontation with the appearance of objects, man's knowledge deposit consists largely of accumulated descriptions: the noumena behind the appearance of the confronted objects continues to lie beyond the receptivity of man. And, the noumena is the only knowledge which depicts the essences of phenomena. There is an intended insinuation regarding the idea of "meaning" in the fore­ going statement. To say that meaning is meaningful is not so much sophistry as it is a clear indication of the logic characteristic of a man of higher consciousness who sees beyond or behind the phenomena. To put it another way,

49Ibid., p. 129. 103 the man who knows the noumenon of a phenomenon also knows the meaning of that phenomenon, and consequently, he knows the meaning of meaning. In plainer words, such a man knows the meaningfulness of meaning. An understanding of the idea that "logos is deeper than logic"*^ seems to he a presupposition for the apprehension of the elusive quality of a phrase such as "The meaningfulness of meaning." Suffice it to say that the quality of the ideas conveyed to the head through the effort of examining appearances is decidedly different from the quality of the experiences claimed by the higher consciousness that penetrates beyond appearances. Proportionately, meaning varies with the quality of the ideas and experiences from observed phenomena to perceived noumena. A man needs only to search within the memory of his own ineffable reservoir of accumulated meanings in order to discern the more meaningful meanings from the less meaningful meanings* This is the kind of sorting that allows man to begin to sense the difference between phenomena and noumena. With some little ability in reasoning and in classifying, he will easily be able to construct a dichotomy on one side of which he will align knowledge derived from observed phenomena with less meaningful meanings and on the other side of which he will

50Viktor Frankl, Man Search For Meaning, p. 188. 104 align knowledge derived from the perception of noumena with more meaningful meanings. And, when he is finished dichotomizing for the purpose of learning the quality of the meanings rightly associated with phenomena and with noumena, he will have taken the first step toward under­ standing the difference "between objective knowledge and hidden knowledge. He will have begun to know that there is only one true knowledge: the knowledge which comes from knowing the noumenon hidden behind the phenomenon. An admonition which expresses the necessary predisposition for perceiving the noumenon of a thing is presented in the following poetic manner: Go out and find a tree. Find it doing no more than being a tree. Stagger back at its treeness and say that it is good to see a thing in its own way. Indeed, it is "to see a thing in its own way” which » • * reveals the hidden causes or the hidden knowledge of phenomena. This difference between the observable effects or causes of phenomena and the hidden effects or causes of phenomena, the latter being the same as noumena, is 105 graphically illustrated in the following excerption from Ouspensky: In all textbooks on the history of literature we are told that in its time Goethe's Werther provoked an epidemic of suicides. What did provoke these suicides? let us imagine that some ’scientist' appears , who, being interested in the fact of the increase of suicides, begins to study the first edition of Werther according to the method of exact, positive science. He weighs the book, measures it by the most precise instruments, notes the number of its pages, makes a chemical analysis of the paper and the ink, counts the number of lines on every page, the number of letters, and even how many times the letter A is repeated, how many times the letter B, and how many times the interrogation mark is used, and so on. In other words, he does everything that the pious Mohammedan performs with relation to the Koran of Mohammed, and on the basis of his investigations writeB a treatise of the relation of the letter A of the German alphabet to suicide.51 Succeeding this passage, Ouspensky presents two more examples which help to explain the noumenal aspect of a thing as opposed to the phenomenal aspect of the same object. First, he presents the scientist who is studying painting. Second, a picture is drawn of a savage studying a watch: Or let us imagine another scientist who studies the history of painting, and decides to put it on a scientific basis, starts a

^Ouspensky, Tertium Organum. p. 128. 106 lengthy series of analysis of the pigment used in the pictures of famous painters in order to discovor the causes of the different impressions produced upon the beholder by different pictures. Imagine a savage studying a watch. Let us admit that he is a wise and crafty savage. He takes the watch apart and counts all its wheels and screws, counts the number of teeth in each gear, finds out its size and thickness. The only thing that he does not know is what all these things are for. He does not know that the handcompletes the circuit of the dial in half of twenty-four hours, i.e., that it is possible to tell time by means of a watch.52 In later sections, Ouspensky further explains the difference between phenomena and noumena by proceeding with the previous example: Just as it is impossible for a savage to attain to an understanding of the nature of a watch by a study of its phenomenal side - the number of wheels, and the number of teeth in each gear — so also for the positivistic scientist, studying the external, manifesting side of life, its secret raison chetrl? and the aim of separate manifestations will be forever hidden. To the savage the watch will be an extremely interesting, complicated, but entirely useless toy. Somewhat after this manner a man appears to the scientist-materialist - a mechanism infinitely more complex, but equally unknown as regards the purpose for which.it exists and the manner of its creation.-^ All of the preceding examples have at least one thing in common: they all illustrate the failure of

52Ibid., p. 128-129 53Ibid., p. 131. 107 attempting to know the noumenon of an object by its phenomenal aspects# In other words, the examples of the book, the paintings, and the watch demonstrate the idea that objective knowledge does not reveal hidden knowledge# Though an examination of each object's outward appearance occurs in each example, the primary question regarding the meaning, nature, or noumenon of each object remains unanswered. Finally, what is Werther? Ultimately, what is the wondrous essence of any famous painting? What is a watch? These kinds of questions will never be answered by a positive scientist# Self-restriction is built into the methods of positive scientists who believe "...that in studying phenomena we are gradually approaching to noumena."^^•5 A Another extensive citation from the work of Ouspensky can help to explain why positive science's approach to the discovery of noumena is incorrect, inaccurate, and incomplete: The noumena of phenomena science considers to be the motion of atoms and the ether, or the vibrations of electrons; it conceives of the universe as a whirl of mechanical motion or the field of manifestation of electromagnetic energy taking on the 'phenomenal tint' for us on their reception by the organs of sense. Positivism affirms that the phenomena and

94Ibid# . p. 132. psychic phenomena are simply the functions of physical phenomena, that without physical phenomena the phenomena of life, thought and emotion cannot exist and that they represent only certain complex combinations of the foregoing; and, furthermore, that all these three kinds of phenomena are one and the same thing in substance - and the higher, i.e., the phenomena of life and of consciousness, are only different expressions of the lower, i.e., of one and the same physico-mechanical or electro-magnetic energy. But to all this it is possible to answer one thing. If it were true it would have been proven long ago. Nothing is easier than to prove the energetic hypothesis of life and the psyche. Just create life and thought by the mechanical method. Materialism ana energetics are those 'obvious* theories which cannot be true without proofs. because they cannot noTT have proofs if they contain even a little grain of truth. But there are no proofs at the disposition of these theories; quite the reverse: the infinitely greater potentiality of the phenomena of life and the psyche compared with physical phenomena assures us of the exact opposite. The simple fact, above shown, of the enormous liberating, unbinding force of psychic phenomena is sufficient to establish quite really and firmly the problem of the world of the hidden. And the world of the hidden cannot be the world of unconscious mechanical motion, of unconscious development of electro-magnetic forces. The positivistic theory admits the possibility of explaining the higher through the lower, the invisible through the visible. But it has been shown at the very beginning that this is the explanation of one unknown by another unknown. There is still lesB justification for explaining the known through the unknown. Yet that 'lower* (matter and motion) through which the positivists strive to explain the 'higher* (life and thought) 109 itsep-f unknown. Consequently, it is impossible to explain and define anything else in terms of it, while the higher. i.e., the thought. this is our sole known; it is this alone that we do know, that we are conscious of in ourselves, that we can neither mistake nor douht. And if thought can evoke or unbind physical energy, and motion can never create or unbind thought (out of a revolving wheel no thought ever arose)so of course we shall strive to define, not the higher in terms of the lower, but the lower in terms of the higher. If the invisible, like the contents of a book or the purpose of a watch, defines 'Ey HTtself the visible , so also we shall endeavor to understand not the visible, but the invisible.55 A somewhat rhapsodic expression of the vastness of infinity preceded by a summarizing effort to explain the , difference between the phenomenal and noumenal aspects of the world also warrants inclusion at this points The principal difference between the phenomenal and noumenal aspects of the world is contained in the fact that the first one is always limited. always finite; it includes those propertiesof a given thing which we can generally know as phenomena; the second, or noumenal aspect,“is always unlimited, always infinite. And we can never say where the hidden functions and the hidden meanings of a given thing end. Properly speaking, they end nowhere. They may vary infinitely, i.e., may seem various, ever new from some new stand­ point , but they cannot utterly vanish, any more they can cease, come to an end. All that is highest to which we shall come irT~the understanding of the meaning, the significance, of the soul of any phenomenon, will again have another meaning, from another,

55Ibid., p. 132-133 110 still higher standpoint, in still broader generalization - and there is no end to it! In this is the majesty and IKeTbrror of* infinity.56 The difference which exists between phenomenon and noumenon in regard to a relatively simple physical object, pertains no less in regard to the world or even the cosmoses. Discernment of the noumenon of an object, instead of restrictive discernment of only the phenomenal aspects of an object, is reflective of the level of consciousness on which or from which the discerning viewpoint occurs. For this reason, viewpoint and level of consciousness are coincident. Additionally coinciden­ tal with viewpoint and level of consciousness is the form or method of knowledge the result of which is one quality or another of understanding. The world is one kind of world when it is viewed from a lower level of consciousness, and it is quite a different whole when it is viewed from a higher level of consciousness. "Let us also remember that the world as we know it does not represent anything stable. It must change with the slightest change in the forms of our knowledge• 57 ' For example, to see a chair only in relation to itself is not to see the relatedness

56Ibid., p. 138. 57Ibid. 111 of that chair. That is, it is not to see the chair in its actuality. The same might he said of a man's fingers in relationship to his hand. To know the noumenon of any one finger is a knowledge surpassing the feeble, objective knowledge which results from apprehending only the phenomenon, but it is, nevertheless, a limited knowledge unless it activates or inspires.an understanding of the finger's relatedness to the hand, the hand's relatedness to the arm, the arm's relatedness to the shoulder, and so forth. Once again, it should be reiterated that grasping the "whole" or "all" of anything is necessarily dependent i * on the viewpoint or method of knowledge both of which are reflective of a particular level of consciousness. A more than adequate fusion and synthesis of the preceding comments occurs in an excerpt from Ouspensky: Phenomena which appear to us as unrelated can be seen by some other more inclusive con­ sciousness as parts of a single whole. Phenomena which appear to us as similar may reveal themselves as entirely different. Phenomena which appear to us as complete and indivisible, may be in reality exceedingly complex, may include within themselves different elements, having nothing in common. And all these together may be one whole in a category quite incompre­ hensible to us• Therefore, beyond our view of things another view is possible - a view, as it were, from another world, from 'over there.♦ from 'the other side.' Now 'over there' does not mean some other place, but a new method of knowledge, a new understanding. And should we regard phenomena not as isolated, but bound together 112 with inter-crossing chains of things and events, we would begin to regard them not from over here. but from over there.58 Intuition and the Evolution of the Intellect

Ouspensky*s reference to a "new method of knowledge" is no less than a direct reference to higher logic, intuition, or mysticism* This being the case, the present study comes full circle again, challenged by the need to define the term "mysticism." It will be recalled that higher logic was defined as a kind of logic which surpasses Aristotelian and Baconian logic in its capacity to en­ compass the "all." Besides, higher logic was shown to be a form of logic based on intuition. Consequently, intuition was defined as the natural result of accumulated concepts. Therefore, the last term at the end of this particular circle which stands in need of definition is "mysticism." Since the heart of mysticism is intuition, before a defining process is undertaken, it seems wise to review the evolution of the intellect which ends with intuition. Selections from Dr. Bucke afford a reasonable explanation of the separate aspects and the total course of the evolution of the intellect: In this evolution these are four distinct steps. The first of them was taken when upon the primary quality of excitability

58Ibid. , p. .139- • 113 sensation was established. At this point began the acquisition and more or less perfect registration of sense impressions — that is, of percepts. A percept is of course a sense impression. If we could go back far enough we should find among our ancestors a creature whose whole intellect was made up simply of these percepts. But this creature had in it what may be called an eligibility of growth, and what happened with it was something like this: Individually and from generation to generation it accumulated these percepts, the constant repetition of which, calling for further and further registration, led, in the struggle for existence and under the law of natural selection, to an accumulation of cells in the central sense ganglia; at last a condition was reached in which it became possible for our ancestor to combine groups of these percepts into what we today call a recept. This process is very similar to that of composite photography. Similar percepts (as of a tree) are registered one over the other until they are generalized into the percept of a tree. Now the work of accumulation begins again on a higher planes the sensory organs keep steadily at work manufacturing percepts; the receptual centers keep steadily at work manufacturing more and yet more recepts from the old and the new precepts; the capacity of the central ganglia is constantly taxed to do necessary registration of percepts, the necessary elaboration of these into recepts; then as the ganglia by use and selection are improved they constantly manufacture from percepts and from the initial simple recepts, more and more complex, that is, higher and higher recepts. At last, after many thousands of generations have lived and died, comes a time when the mind has reached the highest possible point of purely receptual intelligence; the accumulation of percepts and of recepts has gone on until no greater stores of impressions can be laid up and no further elaboration of these can be accomplished on the plane of receptual 114 intelligence* Then another break is made and the higher recepts are replaced by concepts* The relation of a concept to a recept is somewhat similar to the relation of algebra to arithmetic* A recept is a composite image of hundreds, perhaps thousands of percepts; it is itself an image abstracted from many images; but a concept is that same composite image — that same recept - named, ticketed, and, as it were, dismissed* A concept.is in fact neither more nor less than a named recept — the name that is, the sign (as in algebra), standing henceforth for the thing itself, that is, for the recept* Wow it is clear as day to anyone who will give the least thought to the subject, that the revolution by which concepts are substituted for recepts increases the efficiency of the brain for thought as much as the introduction of machinery increases the capacity of the race for work — as much as the use of algebra increases the power of the mind in mathematical calculations* To replace a great cumbersome recept by a simple sign was almost like replacing actual goods — as wheat, fabrics and hardware - by entries in the ledger. But, as hinted above, in order that a recept may be replaced by a concept it must be named, or in other words, marked with a sign which stands for it - just as a check stands for a piece of goods; in other words, the race that is in possession of concepts is also, and necessarily, in possession of language. Further it should be noted, as the possession of concepts implies of language, so the possession of concepts and language (which are in reality two aspects of the same thing) implies the possession of self—consciousness* All this means that there is a moment in the evolution of mind when the receptual intellect, capable of simple consciousness only, becomes almost or quite instantaneously a conceptual intellect in possession of language and self-consciousness. Our intellect, then, today is made up of a very complex mixture of percepts, recepts, and concepts* 115 The next chapter in the story is the accumulation of concepts* This is a double process, each individual accumulates a larger and larger number while the individual concepts are becoming constantly more and more complex* Is there to be any limit to this growth of concepts in number and complexity? Whoever will seriously consider that question will see that there must be a limit* . No such process could go on to infinity* We have seen that the expansion of the perceptual mind had a necessary limits that its continued life led inevitable up to and into the receptual mind; that the receptual mind by its own growth was inevitably led up to and into the conceptual mind* A priori considerations make it certain that a corresponding outlet will be found for the conceptual mind* But we do need to depend upon abstract reasoning to demonstrate the necessary existence of the supra-conceptual mind, since it exists and can be studied with no more difficulty than other natural phenomena. The supra- conceptual intellect, the elements of which instead of being concepts are intuitions, is already (in small numbers it is true) an established fact, and the form of consciousness that belongs to that intellect may be called and has been called - Cosmic Consciousness*59 A brief explanation which justifies the extensiveness of the foregoing quotation involves several considerations: first, there is usually a reluctance to accept the validity of intuition or intuitional knowledge on the basis that such knowing and knowledge are improvable* On the other

59Ibid*, p* 287-289* (quoted from Cosmic Conscious ness by UTBucke ). 116 hand, validity for the acceptance of the existence of concepts is no more or less available than is validity for the acceptance of the existence of intuition* Second, the knowledge derived from intuition creates, and is, therefore, an integral part of, the mystical experience* Consequently, acceptance of the validity of intuitions and intuitional knowledge is prerequisite for an accep­ tance of the mystical experience* The mystical experience includes that higher, logical view of the ,,A11" which is typical of the higher level of consciousness; hence, the mystical experience is regarded as being an indispensible instrument in helping a man to attain the higher level of consciousness* Third, it is assumed that the foregoing passage quoted from Dr. Bucke unfolds in such a logical and reasonable manner as to allow for the acceptance of intuitions and intuitional knowledge and, consequently, for the acceptance of the major component of the mystical experience* A shorter excerpt from Dr* Bucke's work would surely interrupt the logical movement and interlocking steps of his presentation and, ultimately, render his assertions less acceptable* Mysticism

A return to a consideration of the term "mysticism" is required in order to complete the investigation and the definition of the several questionable terms which were 117 introduced earlier in this chapter* To attend to a discussion and an investigation of the term •‘mysticism1* is, at this point, a natural extension from the previous discussion concerning "intuition* •' To speak of "mysticism” is to raise the hair on the hack of positive science. "As regards science I have already said that it has shown little interest in mysticism, assigning it to the sphere of pathology, or at hest to the sphere of imagination"^0 On the other hand, the establishment of other states of consciousness, the proof of which lies beyond the realm of ooionoo, in pronontly rooogniaodi Such a summary of the aspirations of humanity to penetrate into the realm of the incomprehensible and the mysterious is especially interesting at the present time, when the psychological study of man has recognized the reality of states of consciousness which were long considered pathological, and has admitted their cognitive value, that is to say, the fact that in these states of consciousness man is able to know what he cannot know in ordinary states* But this study has come to a standstill and has gone no f u r t h e r . c1 It is at this stopping point that full recognition occurs concerning the ineffectuality of the scientific method as a method for establishing the existence of other states of consciousness* It has been established,

®°Ouspensky, Model of Universe. p* 18* 61Ibid* * p. 17. 118 however, "that in other states of consciousness, which are rare and have been studied very little, we can learn and understand what we cannot understand in our ordinary state of consciousness." 62 This accessibility to other states of consciousness and the logical content of these states established the idea that "••.the’ordinary* state of consciousness is only a particular instance of consciousness, and that our •ordinary* conception of the world is only a particular instance of conception of the worldBeyond this point, further study of the mystical states of consciousness is minimal or altogether wanting. To define a mystical state of consciousness by means of ordinary psychological terminology is a somewhat difficult task.^4 A particularly misleading impression is created when a mystical state of consciousness is judged by overt, physical clues. "Judging by outward signs such a state has much in common with somnambulistic and psycho- pathological states." 6*5 ^ Although such "signs" are mis­ leading, validity of the mystical state of consciousness is not impossible. Religion has long been a source which

62Ibid. 63Ibid. 64Ibid. 65Ibid. 119 acknowledges the existence of mystical states of con­ sciousness • The following passage from Ouspensky is useful as a recapitulation of the assertion that religion is a source of acknowledgement for the existence of mystical consciousness: There is nothing new about the establishing of the cognitive value of 'mystical* states of consciousness. This fact is new only to 'science.* The reality and value of mystical states of consciousness have been acknowledged by every religion without exception which exists or has ever existed. According to the definition of the theologians of the Orthodox Churchy mystical states of consciousness cannot dis­ close or add new dogmas, but they disclose and explain the content of dogmas which are already known by revelation. It is evident from this that mystical states of consciousness are not opposed to basic revelation, but are, as it were, re­ garded as phenomena of the same nature, but of less power. An effort to describe the outward signs which are associated with mystical states of consciousness is a relatively profitless undertaking when such an effort is compared to the more manageable task of defining the term "mysticism." Describing the outward signs of mystical states of consciousness inevitably ends in inapplicable generalizations; whereas, defining the term "mysticism" leads to a specific kind of identification. "The word 'mysticism' is used in very different senses, for instance,

66Ibid. , p. 17-18. in the sense of a certain kind of theory or teaching." 67 Additionally, a dictionary definition of the word "mysticism" is often abstruse and recondite. Such a definition usually "includes all those teachings and beliefs concerning life beyond the grave, the soul, spirits, hidden forces in man, Divinity, which do not enter into the ordinary and recognized religious teaching." Obviously, this sort of imprecise definition is inadequate for a word which bears as much persuasive weight as the word "mysticism" must bear in this study. Ouspensky's investigation of the term "mysticism" yields a more exact definition than either the dictionary or most teachings. For this reason, a close look will be taken of Ouspensky's thoughts concerning the word "mysticism." Afterwards, the foregone intention to accept his definition as the one suitable for this study will prevail. It is clear, from the beginning, that Ouspensky means for the word "mysticism" to be thought of only "in its psychological sense, that is, in the sense of special states of consciousness, and ideas and conceptions 6q of the world directly resulting from these states." *

^ Ibid., p. 18. 68Ibid. 69Ibid. 121 Although Ouspensky hounds his consideration of "mysticism" within those thoughts which pertain to "special states of consciousness," taken in a "psychological sense," the area within those boundaries is no less vast in terms of re­ quired confrontation. That is to say that even though Ouspensky has eliminated numerous particulars from his consideration of a definition of "mysticism," the remaining, specific characteristics require serious examination. The fabric of Ouspensky's thoughts concerning mysticism are no less tightly interlocked and interwoven than are any of his thoughts concerning other subjects. For this reason it is less damaging to Ouspensky's thought pattern and certainly more advantageous as authoritative reference to quote several passages intact rather than to extract a few threads of. opinion and to risk destroying the entire cloth: ...'mystical states of consciousness* are closely bound up with knowledge received under conditions of expanded receptivity. Until quite recently psychology did not recognize the reality of the mystical experience and regarded all mystical states as pathological ones - unhealthy conditions of t£e normal consciousness. Even now, many positivist—psychologists hold to this opinion, embracing in one common classification real mystical states, pseudo-mystical perversions of the usual state, purely psychopatic states and more or less conscious deceit. This of course can be of no assistance to a correct understanding of the question. Before going further let us therefore establish certain criteria for the identification of real mystical states: Professor James enumerates the following: ineffabilityt noetic quality, transiency, passivity* But some of these characteristics belong also to simple emotional states, and he fails to define exactly how mystical states can be distinguished from emotional ones of analogous character. Considering mystical states as 'Knowledge by expanded consciousness,' it is possible to give quite definite criteria for their discernment and their differentiation from the generality of psychic experiences* 1• Mystical states give knowledge WHICH NOTHING ELSE CAN GIVE. * « 2. Mystical states give knowledge of the real world with all its signs and characteristics. 3* The mystical states of men of different ages and different peoples exhibit an astonishing similarity, sometimes amounting to complete identity. 4* The results of the mystical experience are entirely illogical from our ordinary point of view* They are super-logical, i.e., Tertium Organum. WHICH IS THE I ® "T8 MVSfrlCAL EXPERIENCE, is applicable to them in all its entirety. The last-named criterion is especially important - the illogicality of the data of mystical experience forced science to repudiate them* Now we have established that illogicality (from our standpoint) is the necessary condition of the knowledge of truth or of the real world* This does not mean that everything that is illogical is true and real, but it means absolutely, that everything true and real is illogical from our standpoint* We have established the fact that it is impossible to approach the truth with our logic, 123 and we have also established the possibility of penetrating into these heretofore inaccessible regions by means of the new canon of thought. The consciousness of the necessity for such an instrument of thought undoubtedly existed from far back. For what, in substance, does the formula tat twam asi represent if not THE FUNDAMENTAL A X T W W 'fcTGHfeR LOGIC? Thou art That means: Thou art both Thou . and not Thou, and corresponds to the super—logical formula A is both A and Not—A. If we examine ancient writings from this standpoint, then we shall understand that their authors were searching for a new logic. and were not satisfied with""the logic of the things of the phenomenal world* The seeming illogicality of ancient philosophical systems, which portrayed an ideal world,as it were, instead of an existing one, will then become comprehen­ sible , for in these portrayals of an idea world, systems of higher logic often lie concealed*70 It has plainly been established in this study that > . , a system of higher logic is indispensable for an under­ standing of hidden knowledge. Furthermore, the idea has been clearly presented that phenomena, in and of itself, is neither reality nor an accurate reflection of reality. The noumena of phenomena are the constituents of reality; tmly noumenon is real. Correspondent to the receptivity of noumena is a particular level of consciousness. In the previous pages of this chapter, specific characteristics

^°Ouspensky, Tertium Organum. p. 251-252. 124 have been associated with a certain level of consciousness called the "higher level of consciousness." These characteristics are intuition and the mystical experience. Having asserted Ouspensky*s theory concerning the evolution of intellect, with the intention of establishing authorita­ tive proof for the validity of the idea of "intuition," and having reviewed Ouspensky's pronouncements regarding mysticism, with the motive of discovering a definition of the term "mysticism," it yet remains to establish a proof for the validity of mystical experience before the entire consideration of higher logic can be put aside in favor of a closer look at levels of consciousness. Unity of Experience as Proof of Mystical Experience • If, as Ouspensky suggests, attention is paid to "neither the religious nor the scientific view" and if, instead, attention is paid to "description of the mystical . experiences of people of entirely different races, different periods and different religions,"'71 then a proof of the validity of mystical experiences may be constructed by way of an inference known as "unity of experience."72 The phrase "unity of experience" means that "in mystical

. _ _ » • "^Ouspensky, Model of Universe. p. 18. 72Ibid. 125 states utterly different people in utterly different conditions learn one and the same thing.73 OuspenBky’s following comments reiterate the unitive trait among the mystical experiences of different people: In mystical states utterly different people in utterly different conditions learn one and the same thing and, what is still more striking, in mystical states there is no difference of religions. All the experiences are absolutely identical; the difference can be only in the language and form of the description. In the mysticism of different countries and different peoples the same images, the same discoveries, are invariably repeated. As a matter of fact there may be enough of this material upon which to build a new synthetic religion.'4 Ouspensky’s last remark in the foregoing passage which says that "there may be enough of this material upon which to build a new synthetic religion" i£ not an advocation for the establishment of a new religion. It is only his linguistic technique for introducing the idea of "reason" into a consideration of the unity of mystical experience. He means to make it quite clear that the mystical experience generates its own, unique kind of reason. It is by way of his spurious proposal for "a new religion"'that he makes his transition from a mention of reason to a description of the inexpressible and in­ communicable essence of a mystical state:

73Ibid. 126 But religions are not built by reason. Mystical experiences are intelligible only in mystical states. All that we can get from an intellectual study of mystical states will be merely an approximation to, a hint of, a certain understanding. Mysticism is entirely emotional, entirely made up of subtle, incommunicable sensations, which are even more incapable of verbal expression and logical definition than are such things as sound and color and line.75 An inclusive examination of the numerous people who have claimed to have had mystical experiences is too great a task to be included within the focal limitations of this study. Instead, authoritative assertions from Ouspensky, whose opinions are based on extensive research, will be used to support the idea that unity of experience is both valid and existent. The first person arbitrarily chosen to head the list of people who have had mystical experiences is Jacob Boehme. Jacob Boehme was a common shoemaker in the German town of Goerlitz during the end of the XVI and the beginning of the XVII century. According to Ouspensky, a whole series of remarkable writings was left by Jacob Boehme in which the latter describes revelations vouchsafed him in momonto of illumination. Jaoob Boehme's firot myotioal experience occurred in 1600 A.D., when he was twenty-five years old. 76 A brief account of Boehme's first illumination

/^Ouspensky, Tertium Organum, p. 254. 127 portrays the dramatic and the significant difference between perceiving the innermost nature of things and perceiving only the phenomenal aspects of things: Sitting one day in his room, his eyes fell upon a burnished pewter dish, whicITlFeflectea the sunshine with sucn marvelous splendor that he fell into arfinward ecstasy, and it seemed to him as if he couTd now look into the principles and deepest foundations of things* He believed that it was only a fancy, and in order to banish it from his mind he went out upon the green. But here he remarked that he gazed into the very heart of things, the very herbs and grass, and that actual nature harmonized with what he had inwardly seen* He said nothing of this to anyone, but praised and thanked God in silence*77 «0f the first illumination Boehme*s biographer says: 'He learned to know the innermost foundation of nature, and acquire the capacity to see henceforth with the eyes of the soul into the heart of all things*...”'7 8 A second example of a person who has had a mystical experience comes from one of the Christian saints, Saint Ignatius: St. Ignatius conferred one day to Father Laynez that a single hour of meditation at Manfesa had taught him more truths about heavenly things than all the teachings of all the doctors put together could have taught him.••• One day in orison, on the steps of the choir of the Dominican Church, he saw in a distinct manner the fil&n of divine wisdom in the creation of the world.•9

77Ibid. 78Ibid. 79Ibid. ,. p. 258. 128 Saint Teresa is another person who affords testimony of having had a mystical experience: 'One day, being in orison,' Saint Teresa writes, •it was granted me to perceive in one instant how all things are seen and contained in God. I did not perceive them in their proper form and never­ theless the view I had of them was of a sovereign clearness and has remained vividly impressed upon my soul. It is one of the most signal of all the graces which the Lord has granted me.... The view was so subtle and delicate that the understanding cannot grasp it*.80 M. V. Lodizhensky*s book, Superconsciousness and the Paths to its Attainment. is a study of the writings of the mystics of the Greek Orthodox Church. These writings are collected in the books The Love of Good which comprise "five large and formidable volumes." 81 M. V. Lodizhensky had studies these books and .found therein remarkable examples of philosophical thought." 82 The citing of several examples of mystical experiences, from those selected by Ouspensky from the book by M. V. Lodizhensky, will lend additional strength to the contention that a unity among mystical experiences actually exists. Brief excerpts from the writings of Saint Basil the Great, Saint

B0ibia. B1ibid. , p. 259. 129 Theognis, and Clement of Alexandria comprise the following material offered in support of the validity of the mystical experience: St. Basil the Great says about the revelation of God: absolutely unutterable and indescribable are the lightening-like splendors of Divine beauty; neither can speech express nor hearing apprehend. Shall we name the brilliance of the morning star, the brightness of the moon, the radiance of the sun - the glory of all these is unworthy of being compared with the true light, standing farther from it than does the gloomiest night and the most terrible darkness from midday brightness. This beauty, invisible to bodily eyes, comprehensible to soul and mind only, if it illumines some of the saintB leaves in them an unbearable wound through their desire that this vision of Divine beauty should extend over an eternity of life; disturbed by this life, they loathe it as though it were a prison. 3 The next excerpt, from the writing of Saint Theognis, intimates the possibility of man's acquisition of a higher consciousness: St. Theognis says: A strange word will I say to thee. There is some hidden mystery which proceeds between God and the soul. This is experienced by those who achieve the highest heights of perfect purity of love and faith, when man, changing completely unites with God, as His own, through ceaseless prayer and contemplation. From the second century, Clement of Alexandria writes about the ineffableneBs of truth:

83Ibid., p. 261. 84Ibid. 130 11; appears to us that painting appears to take in the whole field of view in the scenes represented. But it gives a false description of the view, according to the rules of the art, employing the signs that result from the incidents of the lines of vision. By this means, the higher and lower points in the view, and those between, are preserved; and some objects seem to appear in the fore­ ground , and others in the background, and t others to appear in some other way, on the smooth and level surface. So also philosophers copy the truth, after the manner of p a i n t i n g . The contribution that the foregoing passage makes toward validating the concept of the unity of mystical experience rests in its intellectual acumen instead of in its emotional clarity. So far, it has been appropriate to include those men's experiences through which has run the unifying thread which bespeaks a kind of experience predicated on a higher level of consciousness. Most of these experiences have been primarily emotional in nature. That characteristic does not invalidate the use of such mental states for proof affirming the concept of the unity of experience. Commonality of the levels of consciousness among those people who claim higher knowledge is more important than the particular route of mind by which they arrived. Therefore, the previously quoted writing of Clement of Alexandria is purposeful toward furthering the idea of the unity of mystical experience because, though

85Ibid 131 void of exalted and extreme emotionalism, it attests to the level of consciousness on which his experience occurred. Coincidently, the experience that he relates intellectually is synonymous with the level of consciousness on which the experience occurred. Clement of Alexandria "reveals one very important aspect of truth, namely, its inexpressibil- ity in words and the entire conditionality of all philosophical systems and formulations." 86 The cosmic implications of Clement's observation are eloquently interpreted by Ouspensky: What time and labor would be saved, and from what enormous and ■unnecessary suffering would humanity save itself, should it but understand this one simple thing: that truth cannot be expressed in our language. Then would men cease to tETnk that theypossessed truth, would cease to force others to accept their truth at any cost, would see that others may approach truth from another direction, exactly as they themselves approach it, by a way of their own. How many arguments f how many religious struggles, how much of violence toward the thoughts of oxhers would be rendered unnecessary and impossible if men would only understand that nobody possesses truth but all are seeking for it, oach in his own w a y . 87 Clement's heightening of thought is obviously more inclusive than that which is typically associated with

86Ibid. 87Ibid.. p. 261-2. individual experience. Clement sees all while, at the same time, ho sees nothing. There ia an implied fuaion among all of thoae people who have claimed to have had myatical experience and who have claimed to have experienced the infinity of a second. It ia as if they all atood on the precipice of eternal time and could see the laat minute coming. People on thia level of know­ ledge have shared the experience of a higher level of consciousness. They have shared the paradox explicit in Clement's writing ahout truths to wit, possession of the truth is possession of the knowledge concerning man's inaccessibility to the truth. The all is nothing, and in the void is everything. Clement's mystical experience concerning truth is not devoid of emotion. The foregoing comments may be mis­ leading in that they suggest an intellectual response as opposed to an emotional one. Few experiences are so lopsided in the distribution of psychic energy. Clement's experience concerning truth appears to be more intellectual than emotional because of the nature of the verbal expression of his experience. Forthwith, the difference is a matter of vocabulary. Whereas Saint Basil the Great, in reference to the revelation of God, exclaims "Absolutely unutterable and indescribable are the lightening-like 133 splendors of Divine beauty," 88 Clement , with considerably more reserve, concludes that "philosophers copy the truth, gq after the manner of painting. * Both men, Saint Basil the Great and Clement of Alexandria, are speaking about experiendes which they have undergone on a higher level of consciousness. . Though in actuality the slant of one man*s experience may appear to be intellectual while the other man's experience seems to take more of an emotional bent, there is never a complete separation between intellect and emotion that results in a preponderance of one at the complete exclusion of the other. Again, it should be mentioned that the expression of any particular experience will tend to appear to be either more intellectual or more emotional depending on the linguistic approach that is used to communicate the experience. One additional consideration should be brought into focus before summarizing and dismissing those mystic testimonies which have been provided as proof in support of the concept of the unity of experience. The preceding comments may have accomplished much in convincing the reader that no significant difference exists between intellectual and emotional experience. In

aaibld.. p. 161. 89lbid. 134 a way it is precisely true that no significant difference exists between intellectual and emotional experience, but the way in which it is true remains to be clarified. Experience is neither intellectual nor emotional. At the risk of reducing an ontological theory to an almost un- platable simplicity, it can be said that experience is simply experience. Whence, then, comes the difference? The answer is that the difference lies in the receptive apparatus of the perceiver. Because of the imperfect balance that man maintains among his various functions experience is frequently perceived through a mental and physical eye that apperceives with a particular slant. Man, who may be regarded as a human machine, has seven qi different functions.3 Two of these seven functions are thinking (or intellect) and feeling (or emotion). This designation of two specific functions is relevant to a discussion of the perceptual preference by which man encounters experience. An excess of either emotion or intellect will yield two significantly different kinds of men. A man is an emotional man if the emotional function predominates over the intellectual function in him. A man in whom the intellectual function predominates

^°The concept of functions will be given special attention in chapter three. ^Ouspensky designates seven different functions. Again, more consideration will be given to this topic in chapter three. 135 over the emotional function is said to he an intellectual man. The significance of the specification of these two types of men regarding determinants which control qualities of perception should he immediately apparent. It might he said that experience is what happens to a person's mind when he activates his receptive apparatus. Someone may question whether or not purely physical confrontation can qualify as experience? In answer to that question, it can easily he asserted that in all cases, except in the rare instance of lobotomy, the hody does not act independ­ ently of mind. The question is not one of whether or not there exists a separation between the mind and the hody. The pertinent enquiry seeks to know the degree of balance between the mind and the hody as well as the degree of balance among the remaining functions which constitute the machine called mein. It follows naturally from a designation of the difference between the two ways that emotional man and intellectual man perceive and receive experience that either type of man will choose to dress his experience in verbal clothing that befits his type. An intellectual man, whose experience will already be largely cerebral, can be expected to express himself in words which are relatively free of instant, emotional connotations. The emotional man, to the contrary, is surcharged with 136 I feeling and seeks to express himself with words that are suggestive of both excitement and enthusiasm. . Neither type of man can claim a significant degree of control over his mechanicalness until he has brought his emotional function and his intellectual fumetion into better balance. Never­ theless , each man, regardless of the predominance of. either the emotional function or the intellectual function, shares a common, epistemological result. That is to say that both men may, at some given point, share similar knowledge which they have experienced and acquired differently. Undeniably, the most personally influential common denom­ inator between two such different perceivers as Saint Basil the Great and Clement of Alexandria is their receptual apparatus, and the idea of receptual apparatus is obviously and easily translated into the idea of higher consciousness. Communicating Experience

In summation, proof for the validity of the concept of unity of experience rests in the realized essence of each man*s experience rather than in each man's method; and the realized essence of those men who claim to have had a mystical experience contain similar qualities which reach beyond any language vehicle that man has, as yet devised. Consequently, most men who have had a mystical experience have but two alternative ways by which to frame 137 the experience verbally. The first way appears to be a contradiction to the very idea of verbalization since it is characterized by a lack of language. The nonverbal approach to a mystical experience typifies a prevalent attitude con­ cerning the inexpressibly psychological aspect of any experience. The person who adheres to the nonverbal * attitude believes that it is futile to try to express experience in language. This belief emphasizes the . startling limitations of discursive language and how, more often than not, language fails to delineate the nuance of psychological interpretation peculiar to individual experience. The second way of viewing the use of verbalization as a means by which to attempt to communicate experience is to see a proportional relationship between the number of words and the kinds of words used and the relative success or unsuccess of communication. This method of approach might be more aptly described as the bombardment method since success seems to depend mostly on the quantity (and sometimes, quality) of words used to communicate experience. Nevertheless, even those people who choose to believe in the success of the bombardment method are frequently hard put to explain by what means they have been able to measure the occurrence of 138 communication. Expressed more prosaically, it might be asked of* adherents to this latter approach just how it is possible for them to determine that they have successfully communicated? Faced with a need to attempt to communicate an experience, the majority of men will choose one of the two previously designated methods. There is a third alter­ native , and whether or not this third alternative is open to all who persevere or open to only those who possess innate aptitude is not an investigative topic which can . justifiably claim space in this paper. Nevertheless, as small as the number may be, there are such men who con­ clude that there is a third alternative solution to the problem of successfully communicating experience. Probably, the one most inclusive word that can be used to describe both the adherents to and the approach of the third alternative is "creative." In connection with an alternative solution to a profound problem which besets all men, it might be questioned whether or not a word as generally misinterpreted as "creative" is adequate terminology. Without making reference to the tomes of definitive drivel which has been written about creativity and the creative person and without taking contemporary misuses of the term "creativeness" too seriously, an « * understanding of the third, alternative solution will be more successful if the word "creative*1 is treated simplistically. For even a partial understanding of the third alternative, a person must return to the initial definition of the word "creative.*1 Basically, to create means to bring into existence. Adherents of the third alternative believe that the closest a person can come to successful communication of an experience depends upon the transformation of that experience into an art form which can evoke new responses. This theory purports to take the psychic energy of, say, a mystical experience and to use that energy to bring an entirely new ecperience into existence. For example, if a person has experienced so simple a thing as the majesty of a swan and if this person wishes to attempt to communicate the experience, then in observance of the dictates of the third alternative, he would endeavor to create a work of art which would embody the essence of that psychic energy which resulted in a reaction to the idea of the majesty of the swan. In other words, the creator's task is to evoke the idea of the t majesty of the swan in another person*s mind. The demands that the creator must make on himself and on his craft will be fiercely intense if this approximation of ex­ perience is to come to pass. Those people who adhere to the theory of the creator are no less hard put to produce evidence of successful communication than are the adherents of the second alternative. As a result of this indefiniteness, some ad­ herents to the latter theory have modified one of the theory*s tenents so as to make the alternative solution more consistent with testable evidence. The most salient change adhered to by this subsidiary group is that manner with which they regard the finished object of art. Unlike the former group who assume that they have locked their experience into the art object and who believe that it is imminently possible for their exact experience to be un­ locked for other people, the subsidiary group believes that they can embody their experience in an art object, but they do not believe that there is any way to guarantee \ » that other people will have either the same experience or a similar* experience when the art object is encounted. At best, the subsidiary group only hopes to embody ex­ perience in the art object and to create enough stimulation in the next person b o that the latter can have his own experience whatever its rudiments and implications may be. The preceding discussion of communication and experience is only seemingly digressive. It is important in establishing proof for the concept of unity of experience that adequate space be accorded a discussion of the variety of ways in which a person can attempt to communicate his experience. Perhaps another way of making the same point is to say that many people may have essentially experienced the some thing but that they may have expressed the remembrance of their experiences differently* In that case, ironically, it would appear as if each person had had a different experience* Consequently, there would not appear to be any unity among the various experiences, and that inaccuracy would tend to destroy the validity of the proof which is necessary to support the idea of the unity of mystical experience. Language often badly serves to represent the essence of experience* As improbable as it may seem to be, a man who has had a mystical experience, will frequently turn to one of the aforementioned alternatives, one which uses language as a vehicle, with the hope of communicating personal experience to another * * person. This has been the procedure of all of those men whose writings were cited earlier in this chapter as proof for the validity of the idea of the unity of mystical experience. If, as it has already been suggested, verbalization is an ineffectual method for attempting to communicate experience, then why have the excerpts from men who claim to have had mystical experience offered as proof for an idea which, from the outset, is regarded as being nebulous and unlikely? The answer to that question is one which . t ( Sherlock Holmes himself would appreciate. The answer lies in one word, "clues•** To be even more exact, the answer I

142 lies in verbal clues* It is one thing to reject the idea that experience can be communicated by means of verbaliza­ tion, but it is quite another matter to think that certain verbal clues are not indicative of particular thoughts and of particular states of mind* This latter opinion can be substantiated by referring to several lineg of writing which have previously been presented in this chapter* Even though Saint Teresa writes "it was granted me to porooivo in ono instant how all things are soen and contained in God,"^2 it can be presumed that no person who reads that line will be caused, by having read that line, to have a mystical experience comparable to the one * * which Saint Teresa had* The value of the line as proof supportive of the.idea of the unity of mystical experience stems from the clue which the line contains concerning Saint Teresa*s attitude and state of mind* She is obviously attempting to communicate an esoteric feeling which is the direct result of having had an esoteric experience* Of codrse* a presentation of the experience in descursive language renders its possibility of being communicated to be even less than it would have been if the experience had been communicated via an art form* Even this latter

920uspensky, Tertium Organum. p* 258. 143 possibility, which is a reflection of alternative three, can not promise that any kind of experience will occur. Nevertheless, an idea about the state of Saint Teresa's mind is communicated. Therein lies the clue. By employing the process of elimination, a reader can quickly discern that Saint Teresa is not talking about an everyday ex­ perience. On the other hand, it is entirely discernible from her verbal clues that her experience has occurred on an unusual level of consciousness. Bespite the individual denotation of each of the words which she employs to convey her experience, the effect of the sum total of the words creates the impression that she has had an experience on a plane of higher consciousness, a mystical plane. Closely aligned to the clue in the line from Saint Teresa is a similar clue in a line from a previously cited excerpt of Saint Theognis. "A strange word will I say to thee. There is some hidden mystery which proceeds between God and the soul."^ Again, it is entirely evident that the experience about which Saint Theognis speaks is, essentially, an ineffable experience which has occurred on a higher level of consciousness. If the closest that Saint Theognis can verbally bring a reader to her experience is manifested in a phrase such as "hidden mystery,11 then it * .

^ Ibid. , p. 261 • 144 is immediately conclusive that language is not a reliable vehicle for communicating experience. Nevertheless, and despite the limitations of language , some feeling or some idea has been communicated. Both Saint Teresa and Saint Theognis have successfully communicated the idea that they cannot successfully communicate their experiences. This point, taken in conjunction with the kinds of word choices which are made to function as the descriptive vehicle of their experiences, leaves little doubt as to the existence of the "beyondness" aspect of their experiences. It is obvious from the passages of Saint Teresa and Saint Theognis that temporary existence on a higher level of consciousness i£3 the experience. So, in actuality this kind of communication problem is twofold. First, ex­ perience cannot be communicated; at least it cannot be successfully communicated verbally.^Q4 Second, conscious­ ness most definitely cannot be communicated. Only the person himself knows if he is conscious. Still, there are ways of knowing about another person's experience as opposed to knowing another person's experience. Verbal clues, meaning the total effect of a passage of words as well as the implications of individual words, afford one way of knowing about another person's experience.

94Ibid.

i To further substantiate the idea that verbalizations can provide clues for determining whether or not a person has experienced a higher level of consciousness or a mystical insight, it might be a worthwhile project for someone to analyze a significant number of written accounts attesting to the experience of higher consciousness and to group single words and phrases from these accounts according to their frequency of usage and according to their total ability to suggest the event of mystical ex­ perience and of higher states of consciousness.' Another worthy project might be to collect those writings which suggest that their subjects have experienced a higher level of consciousness or a mystical experience. This latter proposal suggests the importance of numbers in and of themselves. Certainly an accumulation of data, which is the intention of this latter proposal, would serve a better purpose if it were subjected to some kind of analyzation and classification process instead of simply being collected and offered in bulk to serve as proof for the validity of the concept of the unity of experience. Nevertheless, there is, in this case, a value just in the number of writings which can be amassed on the subject of personal testimonies of people who have had experiences of higher consciousness and mysticism. Without analyzing minutely, it is still entirely possible to make a few general and valid judgments from a number of accumulated writings* It is quite reasonable, for instance, to say that the meager Bample of writings offered in this chapter is pervaded by an effort to communicate a feeling of other worldness. This kind of deduction does not require arduous analyzation; it simply relies on a minimal per­ ceptive ability that allows the perceiver to note the direction of intended meaning in which the entire syntax of the quoted material moves* The point, then, is that valuable deductions can be gleaned from observing the obvious characteristics of language in a passage which is under scrutiny* It is this latter approach on which a portion of this chapter rests its evidence for the proof of the validity of the idea of mystical experience. Those passages which were previously cited as proof for the validity of mystical experience were not scrupulously analyzed. Neither the framework nor the intent of this particular investigation is predisposed to the analyzation of language as language* \ That project, as had already been mentioned, will be left to the scholar who thinks that it is a worthy cause. Nevertheless, even though that portion of this chapter which cites mystical testomonies has not been subjected to rigorous analysis, it still serves to support the idea of the unity of mystical experience* The previously quoted passages of testimony Berve to support the idea of the unity of mystical experience in the following ways. First, all of those previously quoted excerpts include words which suggest other worldness. It needs to be understood that the phrase other worldness is used to imply a different kind of perception as well as a different kind of reception. Even a scant observation of those previously quoted passages will yield the impression of other worldness. Second, a reader of those previously quoted passages can quickly discern a tendency of the testifiers* to describe their experiences. Again, the reader can immediately understand that the testifiers do not des­ cribe their experiences out of preference; description, alone, is necessitated by the nature of the kind of ex­ periences which the authors are attempting to communicate. It is not difficult for a reader to determine that these authors must describe their experiences because these kinds of experiences cannot be communicated. Third, and as a direct consequence of the second, the reader can deduce that all of the testifiers speak as if they are knowledgable about that which they speak. There appears to be a uniform vision that is shared by those who claim to have had a mystical experience. The vision does not seem to be at all restricted to physical vision, that is, seeing with the eye. In fact, the yision exemplified by 148 the testifiers seems to move beyond even mental vision. It is as if such people have seen the "all” with the all of themselves. Religion as Proof for Validity of Unity of Mystical Experience

Certainly, this kind of shared experience is a partial reason for accepting the validity of the idea of the unity of experience. Additionally, the other part of the proof does lie in numbers. The idea of numbers referred to here is not meant to imply the accumulation of the single experiences of individual people. The implication intended for this moment of this study is of the amassed memberships of those religions which are founded on and sustained by mystical experience. The number of human beings who sub­ scribe to these kinds of religions is prodigious. Numbers alone, does not make a proof worthy of serious consideration as a factor validating the idea of the unity of experience. Still, when numbers are intrinsically the result of com­ puting the quantity of people whose experiences adhere to the three descriptions of ways in which experiences can support the idea of the unity of mystical experience, then numbers become a proof contributory to. the larger framework of proof needed to validate the idea of the unity of mystical experience. For this reason, then, the number of people involved in religions which adhere to teachings 149 about mysticism constitute a proof of significant influence which can be used as a part of the validation for the idea of unity of mystical experience. It practically goes without saying that all of the members of religious groups which base their proceedings on mysticism will not have had mystical experiences." On the other hand, many of them will have experienced a mystical state. Even those who have not experienced mysticism are eligible to function as a kind of peripheral proof. This latter point is based on the notion that even though some members of mystical religions have not had mystical ex­ periences , such members choose to^ continue to be members of the religions based on mysticism. Something which occurs within the milieu of the mystical religions is compelling enough to sustain the membership of those people who have not even experienced a mystical state. This might be called proof by association, and it is a phenomenon » that is peculiar to all religionsIn the strictly mystical religions, an aura of mysticism prevails. It is probably of this aura that the non-experiencing members partake. It is much the same in religious groups which are not based Bolely on mysticism and the mystical experience. In the non—mystical religions, it is still the effects of the aura, which is the result of particular religious beliefs and procedures, which mainly attract and sustain those 150 members who have not had a religious experience per se. Most likely the particular beliefs and practices of a specific religious group are not the causes of the aura which affects members who have not had a religious ex­ perience. Most probably, it is the mystical thread which runs through even non-mystical religions that wotfks its effect on the religiously non-experiencing segment of any religion's membership. Ouspensky says, "Mysticism QK penetrates into all religions ,** and proof of that very point may simply lie in the observation that even people who have not had a religious or mystical experience are, nevertheless, affected by the aura which emanates from those people who have had such an experience or from circumstances which are deliberately designed to help engender a mystical or religious experience. It has previously been explained that this study has not been designed to accommodate the analyzation and classification of data pertinent to a close examination of those testi­ monies which were written by people who claim to have had mystical experiences, likewise, the framework of this investigation is also unaccommodative to a profound con­ sideration of religions in and of themselves. Those religions based largely on mysticism are no exception.

95Ibid., p. 267. • I , »

■.'Mi ; •- I 151 , 1 This investigation simply is not directed toward a study of religions. Notwithstanding that point, part of the proof for establishing the validity of the idea of the unity of mystical experience rests in the conviction that numbers, alone, become significant proof when numbers reflect the quantity of people who are, in one way or another, drawn into the membership of a particular religion because of a mystical influence regardless of how remote the influence may be. Because certain religions which are based on mysticism attract a significant number of people and because numbers, taken in this sense, provide part of a necessary proof, it seems justifiable to scan, at least, three of the more ostensible religions which are associated with mysticism. Buddhism, Hinduism, and Mohammedanism are all religions which center around mysticism. Buddhism is a religion of eastern and central Asia which grew out of the teaching of Gautama Buddha. Buddhists believe that suffering is' inherent in life and that a person can be liberated from it by mental and moral self—purification. Hinduism, however, is a body of social, cultural, and religious beliefs and procedures which are indigenous to India's subcontinent. Khrma is a force which both Buddhists and Hinduists believe is generated: by a person's actions'; Buddhists and Hinduists alBO believe that the 152 force of Karma can perpetuate transmigration and, by doing so, determine a person*s destiny in his next existence. Mohammedanism centers around the doctrine of Islam which, in turn, is based on the Koran and the Sunna, or traditions. The latter is the sayings and deeds of Mohammed which were collected after his death my Moslem leaders. Though Buddhism, Hinduism, and Mohammedanism all have separate doctrines by which they proceed, mysticism pervades all three of these religions regardless of their characteristic separateness. Ouspensky provides a quote from William James which is useful in supporting the idea that mysticism permeates religions: In India, [Prof. James says] training in mystical insight had been known from time immemorial under the name of yoga. Yoga meanB the experimental union of the individual with the devine. It is based on perservering exercise; and the diet. posture, breathing, intellectual concentration, and moral dis­ cipline vary slightly in the different systems which teach it. The yogi, or disciple, who had by these means overcome the obscurations of his lower nature sufficiently, enters into the condition termed samadhi. 'And he comes face to face with facts which no instinct or reason can ever k n o w . * 96 •. .when a man comes out of samadhi Vedantists assure us that he remains * enlightened, a sage, a prophet, a saint, his whole character changed, his life changed, illumined.*

96Paul Anikieff, **Mysticism of St. Simeon The New Theologian,** St. Petersburg, 1906. 153 The Buddhists use the word samadhi as well as the Hindus; but Phyana is their special word for the higher states of* contemplation* Higher stages still of contemplation are mentioned — a region where there exists nothing, and where the meditator says: *There exists absolutely nothingf* and stops* Then he reaches another region, he says: ’There are neither ideas nor absence of ideas,' and stops again* Then another region where, 'having reached the end of both idea and perception, he stops finally** This would seem to be, not yet Nirvana* but as close an accroach to it as ihie life affords.97 In another excerpt, which can be regarded as additional support for the idea that mysticism pervades religion, Ouspensky indicates the existence of mysticism in Mohammedanism: In Mohammedanism there is much of mysticism also* The most characteristic expression of Moslem mysticism is Persian Sufism. This is at the same time a religious sect and a philosophical school of high idealistic character, which struggled against materialism and against the narrow fanaticism and the literal understanding of the Koran* The Sufis interpreted the Koran mystically* Sufism - this is the philosophical freethinking of Mohammedanism, united with an entirely original symbolical and brightly sensuous poetry which has always a hidden mystical character* The blossoming of Sufism occurred in the early. centuries of the second millennium of the Christian era. Sufism remained for a long time incom­ prehensible to European thought* Prom the point of view of Christian theology and Christian morality the mixing up of seneuousness and religious ectasy is incomprehensible, but

^Ouspensky, Tertium Organum* pp* 267-268. * 154 in the Orient the two coexisted with perfect harmony.98 t • . That European thought should find Sufism incomprehensible is not at all surprising since mysticism, the bedrock of Sufism, is held in low esteem by rationalists. Ironically, mysticism also pervades European religions, and the knowledge obtained through mysticism is every bit as valid as that knowledge gained from so called rational thought. In so far as it is possible to establish proof for the validity o.f the idea of the unity of mystical experience within the designated framework of this investigation, the foregoing discussion is offered as significatn evidence. A summation of the belief that the idea of unity of experience is valid proof for determining the existence of mysticism can be found in an excerpt from Ouspenskyi In mystical sensations all men feel definitely something in common, having a similar meaning and connection one with another. The mystics of many ages and many peoples speak the same language and use the same words. This is the first and most important thing that speaks for the reality of the mystical experience. Next is the complete harmony of data re­ garding such experience with the theoretically deduced conditions of the world causes; the sensation oT”the umTty or all, so characteristic of mysticism; a new sensation of time, the sense of infinity; joy or horror;

' 98Ibid., p. 268. 155 knowledge of the whole in the part; infinite life and infinite consciousness* All these are real sensed facts in the mystical experience! Xnd these facts are theoretically correct* They are such as they should be . according to the conclusions of The Mathematics of The Infinite and of The Higher Logic* This is all that is possible to say about them. y With this summarization from Ouspensky, the last arc is placed on the circle of interlocking concepts which constitute this chapter* Progressively, this section of the investigation has moved from a discussion of the new generalization to proofs in support of the validity of the idea of the unity of mystical experience. The conceptual area between these two considerations has also been given due thought and development. Because, however, of the circularity and interlocking characteristics of that material which lies between, it seems, at this point, an appropriate choice for the sake of clarification to re­ iterate the major concepts of this chapter in the order by which each one precedes its counterpart. Initially, it was asserted that a system of higher logic is indispensable for an understanding of hidden knowledge* Next, the idea was introduced that phenomena neither constitute reality nor an accurate reflection of reality* It. was shown that only noumenon is real and that correspondent to the receptivity of noumena is a particular

" i b i d *. p* 277. 156 level of conscibusness. Certain characteristics, were associated with a certain level of consciousness called the "higher level of consciousness." These characteristics are intuition and the mystical experience. Ouspensky*s theory concerning the evolution of intellect was then asserted with the intention of establishing authoritative proof for the validity of the idea of intuition. Succeeding this, a definition of n^sticism was formed. Finally, proofs were evolved to validate the idea of the unity of experience which, in turn, became the proof for the mysti­ cal experience itself. From so headlong a plunge into so strange an epistemology, the reader might have a moment of quintes­ sential urgency and ask of what consequence is the new generalization? The answer is deceptively easy. * The new generalization is of consequence because it foreshadows the emergence of a new kind of man, a different kind of man who. possesses a different kind of knowledge. It is, perhaps, through this new knowledge that people will eventually be able to reconcile the cosmic paradox exemplified in the words of W. H. Audens Cosmic trivia we all are, but none of us are unessential.100

'100W. H. Auden. Epistle to a Godson and Other Poems (New York, 1972) , p. * J ■ -

CHAPTER'THREE ■ SELF—EVOLUTION

The different man is the new man who possesses new knowledge* He possesses this knowledge because his state of consciousness is different. It is altered* To alter a state of consciousness is to undertake self-evolution the success of which can only be claimed by a minority. This has been true for any time in the history of man. Solf-evolution n••.is tho question of personal efforts, and in relation to the mass of humanity evolution is the rare exception. It may sound strange 9 but we must realize that it is not only rare, but iB becoming more and more i rare.” The rise in the level of consciousness which differentiates the majority of modem men from their ancestors is the result of species evolution. The effects on consciousness which are obtained from species evolution are undoubtedly minimal when compared to the effects on consciousness which are derived from self-evolution. Furthermore, the pathway to acquiring the New Knowledge and,

^Ouspensky, Possible Evolution, p. 9« 157 consequently, to becoming a different human being lies only in the direction of self-evolution. To move in that direction requires relentless determination and inordinate desire. It is a commitment to a unique kind of self- discipline. "The chief idea is that in order to become a different being mein must want it very much and for a very long time. A passing desire or a vague desire based on dissatisfaction with external conditions will not create a sufficient impulse.” 2 Nonetheless, it is a popular motion, these days, that to alter consciousness is as easy as digesting a pill. Implicit in such a statement is a criticism not of the ubiquitous misuse of hallucinogens but a criticism of the infinite misconception concerning the origin of an altered state of consciousness. "In other words, people fail to distinguish between the method (drug •a use) and the goal (altered consciousness)."'3 Such a distinction intimates the need for a further discussion of the connection between drugs and altered consciousness, and even though the design of this investigation does not provide for an exhaustive treatment of the topic of hallucenogenic drugs, an adequate discussion of the association between consciousness and drugs will be given

2Ibid. ^Andrew Wiel, The Natural Mind (Boston, 1972) , p. 39- **59 due attention at a later point in this chapter* Before that distance is covered, however, it is imperative to fashion a suitable beginning. To speak of the New Man or the different being, the New Knowledge or the hidden knowledge, and self-evolution or self-awareness is unvariably and inevitably to speak of consciousness. Phrased another way, man*s existence is the result of consciousness. All that he was and all that he will become depends on consciousness. To say., then, that consciousness is important is to apply an anemic adjective to a condition of mind which deserves no less than intellectual exaltation. As Andrew Weil puts it, consciousness is "...the only problem worthy of total intellectual effort. It is the concern of all the world's philosophies and religions, other problems being less precise statements of the same thing.**4 Consciousness is the concern of all men, but, as previously indicated, not all men confront the problem of consciousness equally. **A11 of us are working on the problem of consciousness on some level, and the conclusions we come to determine what we think about ourselves and the un±verse, how we live, c and how we act.w^ * ' 4Ibid., p. 1-2. 5rbid., p. 2. % 160 Two Systems of Psychology

It is not a startling observation to note that "the 1 conclusions we come to as a direct result of ''working on the problem of consciousness on some level.•••" lie in the domain of psychology* For this reason it can be conclu­ ded that consciousness and psychology are complementary. Study of man's possible self-evolution to a new level of consciousness necessitates the study of a particular system of psychology, to wit, a system of psychology which views the potential of what man can become instead of a system of psychology which examines man in a state of twarted self-evolution* The distinction between these two systems of psychology is major. In fact, the difference is significant enough to cause Ouspensky to delineate both systems separately by way of illustrating which one can be disregarded and which one must be maintained for a study of self-evolution: ••.note that all psychological systems and doctrines, those that exist or existed openly and those that were hidden or disguised, can be divided into two chief categories* First: systems which study man as they find him, or such as they suppose or imagine him to be. Modern””*"scientific* psychology, or wKat*"Ts known under that name, belongs to this category* Second: systems which study man not .from the point of view of what he is, or 161 what he seems to be, but from the point of* view of* what he may become; that is, from the point of view of his possible evolution* These last systems are in reality the original ones, or in any case the oldest, and only they can explain the forgotten origin and the meaning of psychology. When we understand the importance of the study of man from the point of view of his possible evolution, we shall understand that the first answer to the, question, what is psychology, should be that psychology is the study of the principles, laws, and facts of man's possible evolution.6 The implicit irony of the definition of psychology which underlies a discussion of man's possible evolution » is generated by the misconception that such a psychology is esoteric and untried when, in actuality, the psychology associated with the idea of manfs possible evolution is thousands of years old: For thousands of years psychology existed under the name of philosophy. In India all forms of Yoga, which are essentially psychology? are described as one of the six systems of philosophy. Sufi teachings. which again are chiefly psycholo­ gical, are regarded as partly religious and partly metaphysical. In Europe, even quite recently, in the last decades of the nineteenth century, many works on psychology were referred to as philosophy. And in spite of the fact that almost all subdivisions of philosophy such an logio, the thoory of cognition, othico, aesthetics, referred to the work of the human mind or senses, psychology was regarded as inferior to philosophy and as relating only to » the lower or more trival sides of human nature.'

^OuBpensky, Possible Evolution, p. 6.‘ ^Ibid. , p. 4. 162 Not only has psychology been obliterated under the name of philosophy, but religion has, for an even longer time, subsumed psychology into its ecclesiastical format. This in no way means **. ^.that religion and psychology were ever one and the same thing, or that the fact of the connection between religion and psychology was recognized.*® Nevertheless, there is little doubt that nearly every known religion "...developed one or another kind of psychological teaching connected often with a certain practice, so that the study of religion very often included in itself the study of psychology. While the association existed between psychology and philosophy and between religion and psychology, a similar connection could be noted in art'. "Poetry, drama, sculp­ ture , dancing, even architecture, were means for trans­ mitting psychological knowledge. For instance, the Gothic cathedrals were in their chief meaning works on psychology. Eventually, of course, philosophy, religion, and art took separate forms, but in ancient times, psychology manifested itself in the Mysteries of such countries as Egypt and Greece.

8Ibid. ^Ibid., p. 5» 10Ibid. I . 163 Symbolical Teachings followed the disappearance of the Mysteries and "... were sometimes connected with the religion of the period and sometimes not connected, such as astrology,, alchemy, magic, and the more m o d e m Masonry, occultism, and TheoBophy."\^ From this brief sketch of the ways in which psychology has been relegated to a subordinate position, if not al­ together ignored, it is no wonder that at the present time, psychology continues to stand at a low level. "It has lost all touch with its origin and its meaning so that now it is even difficult to define the term 'psychology*: that is, to say what psychology is and what it studies." 12 Species Evolution and Individual Evolution

The matrix in which this chapter proceeds to establish a regard for the possibility of man's evolution iB synony­ mous with Ouspensky's preferred definition of psychology. Namely, psychology is the study of that which man is not and of that which man may become. In a word, psychology is the study of man's possible evolution, but the psychology roforrod to in this chapter is not a Btudy of species evolution. This investigation subscribes to the former definition.

11Ibid., p. 5-6. .12Ibid.. p. 3. Previous assertions maintained the opinion that the results of species evolution are barely consequential when compared to the results of personal evolution# The crudest record of man's history attests to the fact that certain character!sties of a majority of the entire human raco have changed significantly from prehistoric times. Although this is true, the magnitude of the kind and quality of change which has been associated with the species has been and will again be eclipsed by personal evolution. Change, of course, implies movement from a sleep state of consciousness, to a waking state of consciousness, to a t state of self-consciousness, and, finally, to a level of objective consciousness. The species, taJcen as a whole, or taken in part, has never attained the third or the fourth level of consciousness. The human species is a collective abstraction that generates an equally abstract psyche. The abstract psyche of the human species is not amenable to the requirements necessary for evolution to the fourth level of consciousness within the same life span of time during which it is entirely possible for an individual to evolve into a different being. During any particular era of time, when it has appeared that a majority of the species have acquired, through evolution, a better quality of awareness and a consequent rise in their degree of consciousness, two 165 prevailing facts have frequently been overlooked. First, no evolution of the species, including that which appears to be occurring at the close of the twentieth century, has ever produced a collective consciousness that even approaches self-consciousness or the third state of consciousness. Second, during almost every era of human time, from which usable clues have survived, it is possible to ascertain that the consciousness of a small number of individuals has exceeded the conscious level of the species in quality and duration, This second observa­ tion should not be freely interpreted as a statement which openly advocates the egocentric fulfillment of the indivi­ dual's selfishness. Such fulfillment, in the end, would only impede a person's progress toward the attainment of a higher level of consciousness. The second observation is made simply to reiterate the fact that the only signifi­ cant evolution, and perhaps the only evolution, is the evolution of the individual man. A human being must not depend on his race to provide the change of consciousness which can only occur as a result of personal evolution. It is a kind of cosmic racism which man indulges in when he takes the consciousness of the human race to be his own. Furthermore, a man who gladly and lazily identifies the level of his own consciousness with that of the human race will not, if the first observation is at all correct, 166 nocoBsarily bo complementing himself, Ouspensky's following comments leave little doubt that only one definition of evolution suffices for the development of mans As regards ordinary modern views on the origin of man and hiB previous evolution I must say at once that they cannot be accepted. We must realize that we know nothing about the origin of man and we have no proofs of man's physical or mental evolution. On the contrary, if we take historical mankind, that is, humanity for ten or fifteen thousand years, we may find unmistakable signs of a higher type of man, whose presence can be established on the evidence of ancient monuments and memorials which cannot be repeated or imitated by present humanity. As regards prehistoric man or creatures similar in appearance to man and yet at the same time very different from him, whose bones are sometimes found in deposits or glacial or pre- glacial periods, we may accept the quite possible view that these bones belong to some being quite different from man, which died out long ago. Denying previous evolution of man, wo must deny any possibility of future mechanical evolution of man: that is, evolution happening by itself according to laws of heredity and selection, and without man's conscious efforts and understanding of his possible evolution.1’ In the preceding quotation, the phrase "historical mankind" suggests the same indefinite vastness which the

13Ibid.. p. 7.

>■ word "species" conveys* Additionally, Ouspensky's pre­ ceding comments corroborate the position which claims, first, that species evolution is wholly questionable and, second, that the only significant evolution is man's conscious evolution of himself* This latter statement implies a kind of cyclical process* For example, self­ evolution is facilitated by consciousness, and, ultimately consciousness is one of the qualities resulting from Belf- evolution. Common analogy may be the most efficacious method by which to explain this seemingly contradictory cycle* A person who does not know how to ride a bicycle rides one in order to learn. The beginning bicyclist is involved in the cycling process despite his incompetency. By degrees, he becomes a more capable bicyclist .than he was at the outset* Always in the process, though, he was a bicyclist; in this sense, the means partakes of the end while the end continues to exist independently of the mean’s* To be a beginning bicyclist is not the same as to be a superb bicyclist* Yet, at any point in the process, a learner is, nevertheless, a bicyclist. The foregoing analogy reflects the situation of a person who seeks to .change his level of consciousness by becoming a different human being. Just as there are few people doing anything superbly, including bicycling, there, are even fewer who have attained the highest level 168 of consciousness. Prerequisites for Becoming a Different Being

The complete man is he in whom the highest level of consciousness has been attained. Man, in his present state, is an incomplete being: ... man as we know him is not a completed being; that nature deveTops him only up to a certain point and then leaves him, to develop further, by his own efforts and devices, or to live and die such as he was bom, or to degenerate and lose capacity for development.14 The evolution of incomplete man to completion i • involves"... the development of certain inner qualities and features which usually remain undeveloped, and cannot 1 c develop by themselves." J Certain men with sufficient # * desire and sufficient help may attain a higher level of consciousness and may become a different being. From the preceding remarks, it is evident that not all men have ever been, are, or will be representative of a higher level of consciousness and a different capacity of being. Belated to that observation, two interrelated questions become imminent. "Why cannot all men develop and become different beings? Why such an injustice?" 16

14Ibid., p. 8. l5Ibid. »16Ibid.. p. 9. 169 Satisfactory responses to both of these latter questions are, again, available from the work of P. D. Ouspensky. In answer to the first question he says that all men cannot develop and become different beings "Because they do not want it. Because they do not know about it and will not understand without a. long prepara­ tion what it means, even if they are told"^7 Likewise, in a subsequent passage, Ouspensky adds further develop­ ment to his answer, "the evolution of man depends on his understanding of what he may get and what he must give for it." 18 Prom this simple idea, Ouspensky draws additional conclusions for his answer. "If man does not want it, or if he does not want it strongly enough, and does not make necessary efforts, he will never develop." 1Q* the question of injustice, as it relates to the concept that all men cannot develop and become different beings, is quickly answered once the realization is di­ gested that most men do not want, or want enough, to be­ come different beings. Consequently, Ouspensky is able to assure that "... there is no injustice in this. Why should man have what he does not want? If man were forced to become a different being when he is satisfied

17Ibid. 18Ibid., p. 10. ‘l9Ibid. 170 with what he is, then this would he injustice.”20 To become a different being, then, implies Beveral conclusions for the individual. First, a man must recognize that he is an incomplete being; second, he must have an inordinate desire and enough will to choose to become a different being; and third, he must proceed to become.a different being by adhering to the principals of a psychology which sees man from the point of view of what he may be­ come; that is, from the point of view of man’s possible evolution. Although these conclusions form the boundaries within which man must exist if he is to become a different being, the territory assigned to this process of self-evolution can quickly deteriorate into an arid plot of desolation if man does not clearly understand what it means to become a different being. Therefore, it be­ comes crucial, at this place in the investigation, to assiBt in defining the phrase ’’different being.” Definition of a Different Being

Ouspensky strongly admonishes the necessity of ”... asking ourselves what a different being means." 21 His evolvement of a definition begins with a concentration on the qualities and powers which man does not already possess:

20Ibid. 21Ibid. 171 If we consider all the material we can find that refers to this question, we find an assertion that in becoming a different being man acquires many new qualities and powers which he does not possess now. This is a common assertion which we find in all kinds of systems admitting the idea of psychological or inner growth of man.22 The phrase ”... many new qualities and powers” deserves additional explanation. It is certain that when Ouspensky says ”new,” he means exactly that. The qualities and powers which man acquires in becoming a different being are ones with which he is completely unaccustomed. That observation is not surprising; in point of fact, it is as it should be. To possess a higher level of consciousness implies the possession of those powers and of those qualities indigenous to the higher level of consciousness. Ouspensky*s reason for using the term "new” to describe those qualities and those powers associated with a different being results not from an urge to cite the obvious but from a desire to subtlely introduce the truth of another kind of fact: There is a missing link in ordinary known.theories, even in those I already mentioned which are based on the idea of the possibility of evolution of man. The truth lies in the fact that before acquiring any new faculties or powers which man does not know and does not possess now,

22Ibid. 172 he must acquire faculties and powers he also does not possess. but which he ascribes to himself; that Ts, he thinks that he knows them and can use and control them. This is. the.missing linkt and this is the most important point. By way of evolution, as described before, that is, a way based on effort and help,' a man must acquire qualities which he thinks he already possesses, but about which he deceives himself.*3 Man*s Self-Deception

The concept that man does not already possess those qualities and those powers which he assumes that he possesses is the most important idea underlying this chapter. The success of this chapter, at least this portion, depends on whether or not the reader recognizes

« and defeats his own adherence to a self-defeating idea. The defeat aspect manifests itself in the man who is com- placent about those powers and those qualities which he assumes that he already possesses but which, in actuality, he does not already possess. It is obvious, then, how this kind of deception leads easily to defeat. The Belf- imposed absence of the possibility of acquiring those powers and those qualities which are characteristic of the •» different being and of the highest level of consciousness certainly*designates the ultimate psychological defeat.

»23Ibid.. p. 10-11. 173 It is a pitiable condition for man to be so self-ignorant when, at the same time, he prides himself on being adequately self—knowledgeable. It is even more pitiable to understand why this condition persists. Man continues in self-ignorance because he assumes that he is not self—ignorant. He cannot bear to know that he does not know what he thinks he knows. It is this attitude which actually prevents him from knowing. Why should a man want to bother to accomplish that which he assumes he has already accomplished? Furthermore, when the subject of accomplishment is the man himself, then he assumes correctness of knowledge about himself from an indisputable position. Only man himself can know if he is self-deceiving. That is why the work of becoming a different being or of acquiring a higher level of consciousness is so formidable. It is the self which must answer to the self. Deception is the intervening conversation between those two entities. In the end, through deception,.one only loses the self, and a self is easy to live without if a person is self-deluded. Self-delusion and self-deception predominate man9s ideas about himself. He thinks that he possesses qualities and powers which he does not possess; he thinks that he does the work which will provide him with a clear vision of himself, but he does not do such work; and 174 finally, man believes that he knows himself; he believes that he has self-knowledge, but in this, he is ultimately self-delusive: Man does not know himself* He does not know his own limitations and his own possibilities* He does not even know to how great an extent he does not know himself. Man has invented many machines, and he knows that a complicated machine needs some­ times years of careful study before one can use it or control it* But he does not apply this knowledge to himself, although he himself is a much more complicated machine than any machine he has invented*24 Man's misconceptions about himself are numerous, and all of them originate from the central misconception about his self-knowledge. He does not know himself because he thinks that he already possesses self-knowledge. He cannot improve this state because he is self-deceived and believes that there is no need for improvement. This cyclic deception is one mechanical aspect of the mind of a machine that cannot even see that it is a machines He [man] has all sorts of wrong ideas about himself. First of all, he does not realize that he actually is a machine. What does it mean that man is a machine? It means that he has no independent movements. inside or outside himself. He is a machine which is brought into motion

24Ibid., p. 11-12. 175 by external influences and external impacts. All his movements, actions, words, ideas, emotions, moods, and thoughts are produced by external influences. By himself, he is Just an automaton with a certain store of memories of previous experiences, and a certain amount of reserve energy. We must understand that man can do nothing. But he does not realize this and ascribes to himself the capacity to do. This is the first wrong thing that man ascribes to himself. That must be understood very clearly. Man cannot do. Everything that man thinks he does, reaTly happens. It happens exactly as • it rains, * or ' it -thaws • * In the English language there are no impersonal verbal forms which can be used in relation to human actions. So we must continue to say that man thinks, reads, writes , loves, hates, starts wars, fights, and so on. Actually, all this happens. Man cannot move, thinkf or speak of his own accord. He is a marionette pulled here and there by invisible strings. If he under­ stands this, he can learn more about himself, and possibly then things may begin to change for him. But if he cannot realize and under­ stand his utter mechanicalness. or if he does not wish to accept it as a fact, he can learn nothing more, and things cannot change for him. Man is a machine, but a very peculiar machine. He is a machine which, in right circumstances, and with right treatment, can know that he is a machine, and, having fully realized this, he may find the ways to cease to be a m a c h i n e . . Before the implications of Ouspensky*s conviction, % that man is a machine, are expatiated, it might be interesting

•25Ibid., p. 12-13 176 to include a passage from Erich Fromm for contrasts First of all, the concept of the infinite malleability of human nature easily leads to conclusions which are as unsatisfactory as the concept of a fixed and unchangeable human nature* If man were infinitely malleable then, indeed, norms and institutions unfavorable to human welfare would have a chance to mold man forever into their patterns without the possibility that intrinsic forces in man's nature would be mobilized and tend to change these patterns* Man would be only the puppet of social arrangements and not - as he has proved to be in history - an agent whose intrinsic properties react strenuously against the powerful pressure of unfavorable social and cultural patterns. In fact, if man were nothing but the reflex of culture patterns no social order could be criticized or judged from the standpoint of man's welfare since there would be no concept of 'man*'26 A page later in the same work, Fromm's opinion of man reaches the point of undeniable clarity. The passage is quoted here as a means of complementing the previously cited passage and of offering a more complete point of view with which to contrast Ouspensky*s position. Finally, it is hoped that through this particular contrast, Ouspensky* s ideas concerning the nature of man will become more tinderstandable and, consequently, more acceptable* Here, then, is the other quotation from Fromm which complements the first passage taken from his works

2^Erich Fromm, Man for Himself. p* 21-22. 177 Man is not a blank sheet of paper on which culture can write its text; he is an entity charged with energy and structured in specific ways f which, while adapting itself , reacts in specific and ascertainable ways to external conditions* If man had adapted himself to external conditions autoplastically, by changing his own nature, like an animal, and were fit to live under only one set of conditions to which he developed a special adaptation, he would have reached the blind alley of specialization which is the fate of every animal species, thus precluding history* If, on the other hand, man could adapt himself to all conditions without fighting those which are against his nature, he would have had no history either* Human evolution is rooted in man’s adaptability and in certain indestructible qualities of his nature which compel him never to cease his search for conditions better adjusted to his intrinsic needs.27 Maximum explicative results can be achieved if Fromm’s quotations are given first priority, if the contrast between Fromm's ideas and Ouspensky’s ideas are examined second, and if Ouspensky*s convictions are scrutinized last. This kind of sequence will not only guarantee maximum explicative results, but it will also permit a logical continuation of Ouspensky's thoughts from the point at which his major premise about the nature of man will reach its ultimate clarification. Erich Fromm does not entertain any misgivings about the nature of man* To Fromm, man is a being who possesses

27Ibid., p. 23* 178 the energy and the force to create destiny. No explanation is actually necessary before the reader can discern that the quotations from Erich Fromm's work are primarily socialogical. Even so, the psychological thread that twists among the sociological observations of Fromm are patently evident. If the reader will recall Ouspensky's definition of psychology, which is the definition sub­ scribed to throughout this study, then it will become obvious that Fromm's psychology of man is radically different from Ouspensky's psychology of man. From the previously quoted passages, Erich Fromm's psychology of man can be cited among the sociological concepts. Of course, Fromm's entire psychology of man is not determinable from so scant a sampling of fragments. Nevertheless, certain of Fromm's phrases and word' clues point unquestionably to a definite predisposition re­ garding a psychology of man. The pattern of this investi­ gation cannot afford to include a definitive discussion of Fromm's beliefs about the capacity of human beings to determine their own lives against the odds of mechaniza­ tion. It is, however, entirely feasible, in fact, imminently needed, to work toward an interpretation of Fromm's basic feeling about the psychology of man by attending sufficiently to those clueB which are contained in particular words and phrases. * 179 Referring back to the first passage quoted from Erich Fromm in this chapter, the idea is advanced that in acting against the "... norms and institutions un­ favorable to human welfare..." the ”... intrinsic forces in man*s nature would be mobilized and tend to change these patterns.” Soon after that line occurs, Fromm goes on to describe man as ”... an agent whose intrinsic properties react strenuously against the powerful pressure of unfavorable social and cultural patterns.” Approaching the second long passage of Fromm’s, two more descriptions of man can be added to the cumulative pile of clues from which it is possible to educe a feeling about Fromm’s psychology of roan. First, Fromm says that man is ”... an entity charged with energy....” Second, Fromm says that "Human evolution is rooted in man's adaptability and in certain indestructible qualities of his nature which compel him never to cease his search for conditions better adjusted to his intrinsic needs.” Note, particularly, the inclusion of the word "energy" in the first brief quote and the in­ clusion of ! the phrase "certain indestructible qualities" in the second quote. The sum of the word clues and phrase clues indicates the obvious direction in which Fromm's psychology of man leans. Precisely what that direction is becomes the question most directly in need of an answer. The word and phrase clues extracted from Fromm’s 180 primarily sociological observations constitute a blatant sentiment which maximizes a belief in the nomechanicalness of man. Fromm freely attributes to man those qualities which are rarely evident in any, man. The "energy” and "certain ‘indestructible qualities" are decidedly those which allow man to "... react strenuously against the powerful pressure of unfavorable social and cultural patterns" and to act against the "... norms and institutions unfavorable to human welfare...." Neverthe­ less, neither social change nor personal aggrandizement require more than a human being's susceptibility to"... external influences and external impacts." Fromm’s psychology of man insinuates that man has the capacity to do as well as the will to make the doing significantly individual. Furthermore, Fromm indubitably supports the idea of man's individuality, and individuality that causes and controls destiny. The empowerment to control himself in the ultimate sense is ascribed to man by Fromm for less them a nominal effort. The ultimate control which a man can attain is the control over the use of those powers and those qualities which help him to acquire a higher level of consciousness. In truth, most men would do well to acquire any level of consciousness beyond the sleep level.

% 28 Ouspensky, Possible Evolution, p.. 12. 181 This point will be expanded later in this chapter* Notwith­ standing Fromm*s outright gift to man of those qualities and those powers which are required to attain a higher level of consciousness, man still has not shown the correct effects indicative of higher consciousness* Man still reaches out for the self he does not have. In spite of Fromm*s ascription of a "self" to man, the modern human being con­ tinues to exclaim about the abstract injustice of the universe and about the inequity from trying to exist in a "civilized” world* This is not surprising when it is realized that m o dem man does not possess those attributes which Fromm finds so easy to ascribe. That in actuality man differs significantly from Fromm's estimate of him, in the kinds and qualities of attributes which he possesses, is not a major concern. What is of profound concern in this study is that Fromm*s tendency to view man as the doer, empowered with those qualities which cause him to think that he is responsible for what happens, only prevents man from beginning to see his mechanicalness. In later works of Fromm, the author exerts much effort to convince the reader that man is not an automaton and that man should strive to protect himself from society's overwhelming propensity to mechanize and to dehumanize. Such a viewpoint is in direct contradiction to the facts. First, man is a machine, a mechanical being. Second, society is, a I

182 reflection of the men who comprise itf and more than the majority of men are mechanizing and dehumanizing. It is as if Fromm were telling the wolf to protect itself from itself by pretending to be a lamb. The major misrepresentation for which Fromm is responsible is caused by his attributing qualities and powers to man which, in actuality, are not possessed. The major psychological implication of Fromm’s attribution is that man will not make the effort to acquire certain powers and qualities if he believes that he already possesses them. Erich Fromm is guilty of strengthening and of supporting a false belief. Much of the foregoing commentary and criticism has appeared to lacerate both Fromm's predominant feeling about the psychology of man, based on fragments ex­ cerpted from only a few passages, and Fromm, himself. Neither Fromm's ideas nor the man himself deserve to be pilloried, and the principal use of Fromm and his ideas in the foregoing comments and criticism was largely symbolic. Ironically, the work of Fromm has, in numerous ways, created the ground on which the early rudiments of this investigation took root and grew. It is a privilege to acknowledge the debt, but it is a responsibility of this investigation to proceed in the way of its own truth regardless of indebtment. 183 Acknowledgment that the use of Fromm's ideas in this investigation is symbolic does not preclude recognition of the innate identity of the ideas themselves* It seems to be true that Fromm does ascribe certain powers and qualities to man which, in actuality, man does not already Lr possess. There is the obvious value of using this belief as a vehicle of contrast by which to further substantiate the correctness of Ouspensky*s views* It ie^ somewhat possible to contrast each of Fromm's ideas concerning the psychology of man with each of Ouspensky*s ideas concerning the same subject* It is, however, impractical to do that in this study. Equally as efficient is a method of contrast which uses a symbolic approach* The key factor in the symbolic approach to contrast is the ubiquity of, that which is being symbolized. For example, within the frame work of Fromm's exposition, certain ideas are presented with a logic which suitably accommodates them. The ideas are intellectually substantial because their treatment reflects serious thought* Additionally, the ideas in Fromm's exposition have both influenced the development of similar or complementary ideas in other thinkers and have given support to similar or complementary ideas that were already extant. The number of people who have been inspired by Fromm's ideas is proof enough of the ubiquity of hi$ influence* Inversely, to speak of Fromm's ideas 184 is to speak of ideas which are supported by a significant number of people. For this reason, the ubiquitous aspect necessary for symbolization is present. In short, Fromm’s ideas represent a point of view, and this point of view has become the sight of innumerable minds. It is primarily for this reason that many of Fromm*b ideas can be regarded symbolically. They symbolize or stand for a contemporary and popular view of the nature of man. Henceforth, reference to Fromm or to his ideas concerning the psycholoby of man will signify reference to a ubiquitous belief which, taken symbolically, represents the viewpoint of a multitude of people. Essentially, this symbolic viewpoint is equivalent to those ideas which run counter to Ouspensky*s thoughts concerning the psychology of man. • • It appears that Fromm, in so many words and in so many ways, espouses the belief that man already possesses certain qualities and powers which, in actuality, only the rarest man possesses. It is entirely conceivable that Fromm does not intend for his assertions to be in­ terpreted in this manner. Be that as it may, certain verbal clues lead the reader in one of several definite directions. It seems nearly unquestionable that one of those directions delineates man as the unmechanical, self-willed creator of his own destiny. It was previously implied that this viewpoint is both contemporary and 185 popular* There is one observation about its contemporan­ eousness and several reasons to justify its popularity which warrant mention in the context of this investigation* The occurrence of the attitude that man already * possesses consciousness, as well as other qualities oq previously described, ^ is, in and of itself, a contem­ porary lagniappe given from one ignorant person to another* It is a cliche to note that in all periods of human history there have been people who have prided themselves on their possession of rare and worthwhile human qualities* Nevertheless, at no other time in the history of man have so many people arrogated the attributes of consciousness as well as made claim to consciousness itself than at present in the contemporary arena of man's self-per jury. It truly is a parade of fools who wave false certification of awareness in each other's face and then desperately seek outside themselves for the stimulation that will cause them to become that which they profess to be already* The lie begets a lie, and the self-lie begets self-decep­ tion. If self-knowledge is derived from self-observation and if self-observation is conducted in conjunction with a self that is deceptive, then the resultant knowledge will be false* This paper is not meant to be a sociological

29A more definitive explanation of theBe qualities will pccur later in this chapter* 186 document. At any rate, it seems perfectly safe to say that contemporary society creates and awards self-deceivers.

Reasons for Man * s Self-deception

It is a popular notion that man already possesses certain qualities and powers which he does not, in actuality, possess. This notion is popular for several apparent reasons* First, it is less work, in fact, no work at all, if man believes that the greater effort has already been exerted. Man will admit that he has some finishing touches to apply to hia perfection, but man will not freely admit his imperfection and mean it. This first reason, which characterizes man as the shirker of self-work, might graphically be called cosmic laziness. The second aspect of this first reason implies the in­ volvement of the ego; this aspect can develop to such proportions in a person that it actually becomes separated from the first reason and evolves into a second reason. It is a proclivity of the ego to flatter itself. Its diet consists of approximately ninety-nine percent fantasy and one percent truth. There is no apology in order here for the antropomorphizing of the ego. The ego is entirely like a separate, living entity in man which agonizes and entices him into countless wastelands. Notwithstanding that aspect of the ego which causes man to compensate and to turn his destructive drives into constructive ones, ther is another aspect of man’s ego which remains unnamed hut which, nevertheless, makes its existence readily felt. This latter aspect may be called the veneer of the ego, and its characteristic functions are to ward off violations to itself and to maintain, through the repellency of threats to itself, a deceptively earned position of dominance over the other psychic elements. The ego resists the truth about itself with undue success. It does not wish to realize its own fragmentation and its own disunity. It prefers to project these negative attributes to other men’s egos and, in so doing, to rid itself of imperfection and to continue to maintain a deceptive self-image. With these characteristics of the ego in continuous operation, it is not at all surprising to find man attributing to himself qualities and powers which, in actuality, he does not possess. This being the case, it is no wonder that man is offended at the suggestion that he does not already possess the capacity to do, individual­ ity, unity, permanent Ego, Will, and consciousness. Few men will deliberately and freely admit the absence in himself of any of the above-mentioned qualities. Only in jest, and with only a facetious intent, can man’s ego allow^itself the risk of denouncing those qualities which 188 it assumes that it possesses* For example, no man is sincerely going to admit that he is not a conscious being* It is inconceivable* The risk involved is too formidable* The closest that he will come to this kind of admission is to simulate the outward signs and signals of confession and to utter a phrase or two calculated to dupe his ego as well as another person who may be listening* Inside, however, the confessor admits nothing. To admit the ab­ sence of any of those qualities which, in actuality', are not possessed, is to create a vacant spot in man's image of himself; enough vacant spots can merge into a kind of desolation that is capable of swallowing the efficacy of the fragmented ego*

The third reason that man assumesi that he possesses qualities which, in actuality, he does not possess lies in the duplicity of appearances* Man is quickly and easily fooled by what he sees through both his inner vision and his outer sight^ The concept of duplicitous appearances is a social fact as well as a psychological one* Again this investigation does not provide the scope for serious consideration of the sociological implications of psychological concepts or for the earnest contemplation of sociological concepts per se* Nevertheless, what is said horo about tho psychological reaotlon to tho concept of the duplicity of appearances also pertains, in only a 189 slightly modified way, to sociological reactions. * ' » Duplicity of Appearances — A Special Reason for Man’s Self-deception

Duplicity of appearances is a concept the name of which partly defines its idea. In other words, the concept is revealed in its name; furthermore, the name itself, implies an irony, the irony supported by the indomitable ego. Even though this third reason is not ego-originated, it, nonetheless, reflects a degree of ego-influence. In protecting itself from deficiency, the ego creates a distorted self-image thereby distorting actuality. The resultant situation is ironic because man then proceeds to accept himself as a being who possesses certain qualities * which he actually does not possess. He is convinced that he has done the necessary work and that he has, as a result, acquired certain outstanding qualities not the least of which is a higher level of consciousness. If irony can, at all, be defined as that which in contrasted with that which should be. then it is plain how ironical man’s psychological condition is. Moreover, as previously indicated, the irony is conjunctive to ah explainable cause, the duplicity of appearances. Man appears to be incurable evaluative and judgmental. Too frequently, he attempts to judge and to evaluate I illusions. That is, he makes self-assured estimates of 190 that which does not actually exist as if the nonexistent were actually there. This latter statement could suggest the insidious work of the ego giving itself protection against offensive reality. The ego, however, is only one respondent to the duplicity of appearances. On the other hand, the entire mind, facilitated by one of a combination of, or all of the sensory impute, is the entity most often duped by appearances. It is certainly understandable how man is easily fooled by the duplicity of appearances into believing that he actually does possess certain qualities. For example, if man A observes man B, then man A will probably conclude that he is aware of man B, that he is conscious of man B. Too frequently in this simplistic kind of situation, man B it3 not even observed'' by man A. In essence, man A exemplifies the behavior of a person who looks but who does not see. Furthermore, the looking of man A becomes for him convincing proof of his awareness. He appropriates the attribute of awareness quito naturally. In connection with the idoa of the duplicity of appearances, it is easy for man A to rest assured that, through awareness, he has understood man B. The behavior of man B creates an appearance. It is to this appearance that man A directed his response. At best, it can only be said that man A possesses surface awareness of man B. The actual behavior of man B is not 191 understood by man A because the appearance of the behavior of man B suffices to dupe man A into believing that his mind has penetrated beyond surface observation. Closely aligned to man's inaccurate observation of that which lies outside himself is man's equally inaccurate observations of himself. In the foregoing example of man A and man B, it is quickly seen that for man A to be so duped by the appearance of behavior outside himself, he must also be duped by misleading appearances within him­ self. Clearly, man A is able to see man B jump from a cliff, but the question is what does man A understand beyond the appearance of the action of man B jumping from the cliff? The answer, of course, is that man A assumes that he does understand beyond the appearance. The next, obvious question is on what basis does man A make his assumption? In addition to the two previously expounded reasons, reason three indicates that man A makes his assumption about understanding the action of B on the basis of a second assumption which entails an understanding of self. Man A trusts his eyes, his ability to reason, his self-understanding, and his general know­ ledge of people. For these reasons, man A is certain that he knows what he is talking about when he assertb that he understands man B beyond the appearance of the action of man B. Actually, man A probably does not even % 192 understand the appearance of the action of man B. least of all does man A understand beyond the appearance. That man does not understand beyond appearance is an idea indicative of and reminiscent of the idea con­ cerning the difference between phenomena and noumena. For the present discussion, however, the focal point is predominately psychological instead of philosophical. The latter viewpoint is obviously not entirely omitted, but the prime emphasis in this chapter is on a psychological inquiry into the nature of man*s possible evolution. For this reason, it is only possible to know why man A assumes an understanding beyond the appearance of man B by examin­ ing more closely the interior self-deception of man A. It has already been mentioned that man, for the most part, tends to trust the actuality of what he sees with his eyes, to trust the truth of his conclusions from his ability to reason, to trust the knowledge that he assumes that he gains from a distorted version of self-understanding, and to trust the knowledge of people in general which he professes to gain while ignoring their individualism. Although man is prevented from understanding beyond most appearances because of his unquestioning truBt in those results which he professes to gain and which were enumerated in the foregoing lines, the result of which, by far, most provniitn him from undarntanding bayond nppaaranoon in tho 193 distorted view he gains of himself* There is an interior appearance of man's self which is equally as subject to duplicity as the exterior world of appearances* Man is fooled into believing that he possesses certain, rare qualities by looking at the in­ side of himself with, the same kind of eye and the same kind of self-trusting attitude which prevented man A from understanding beyond appearance* It is almost as if, in the case of man A, a certain kind of self-trusting is equivalent to self-deception* In other words, man frequently trusts his knowledge in spite of ignorance* For example, does man A, seeing man B jump from a cliff, understand anything about the jump beyond the appearance of it? Man A assumes that he does* Man A assumes that man B jumped from the cliff because he is an expert diver and because there is twenty feet of water below the em­ bankment. Is this a safe assumption for man A to make regarding the action of man B? That it appears to be a safe assumption for man A to make is precisely the condition which generates duplicity* In order for man A to make the foregoing assumption, he must rely on those self-trusting entities of hiw own mind which were enumerated previously* He knows that man B jumped from the cliff because he relied on his own physical viBioh to see that action. From that point, man A accepts all other deductions of his self—trusting mind with equal facility. He knows that man B is an expert diver. He may, incidentally, only know this because he has read about it or because someone has told him about it. In either case, the source may be questionable. Nevertheless, man A accepts the diving expertise of mail B. In addition to this acceptance, he trusts his capacity for logic to deduce an understanding of the reality which .existed beyond the appearance of the dive made by man B. Finally, man A is satisfied to accept a reason for the appearance of the dive. Obviously, he tells himself, since man B is an expert diver and since there is twenty feet of water rippling below the cliff, man B desires to go swimming. After all, he again tells himself, this would be true of almost all other men in circumstances similar to those in which mein B is.found. Unfortunately, man A must wait until morning headlines are printed in order to learn about the suicide of man B. In the example of man A and man B ignorance became the result of self-trust. In accordance with this comment it would seem that the contention at this moment is to disfavor self-trust. On the contrary, it is not the discouragement of self-trust which the preceding commentary advocates; the preceding emphasis has been on the% discouragement of self-trust which is founded 195 on the self-knowledge that, in turn , is derived from false assumptions about self instead of from direct and intense self-observation. Certainly a man is lucky who trusts himself because he has based his trust on hard- earned self-knowledge. The unfortunate man is he who bases his self-trust on admonitions from the ego and■on inaccurate self-knowledge• Turning again to the example of man A and man B, the observation is clearly imminent that man A fs vision beyond the appearance of the action of man B is inaccurate. Such vision originates in and is projected from an incom­ plete man. How can man A hope to know about man B when, in actuality, man A does not even know himself or even know that he does not know himself? It is as if. man A were an empty wine vessel which could talk and which could say, "Tip me over your glass. I am full of sweet wine." It is equally absurd for man A to profess a full­ ness of self-knowledge and, on the basis of wrong assumptions, to be able only to pour forth nothing. In summarizing the example of man A and man B, it can be observed that the primary psychological mistakes of man A are two. First, he assumes that he understands the appearance of the action of man B. Second, man A assumes that he understands himself well enough to extend that understanding into a situation from which he assumes 196 that he has extracted an understanding of. another person* The word "extracted" is fittingly used here because it connotes mechanicalness, and mechanicalness connotes a sterile routine involuntarily activated* Furthermore f the word "mechanical" was employed earlier in this chapter to describe the actual state of man as contrasted with that state in which he assumes that he exists* A return to a further discussion of the idea of man's mechanical­ ness will occur presently* In the meantime, it is essential to say a final word about the mistaken assumption on which man A proceeds to base his understanding of that which lies beyond the appearance of the action of man B. The mistaken assumption of man A is a psychological error* He assumes that he can understand another man before he understands himself. Ouspensky chides the men who commit this psychological error. It is evident in what way and for what reason Ouspensky's reproof pertains to man A: If you formulate your aim from the point of view that you wish to understand other people, you must remember one very important school principle: you can understand other people only as much as you understand yourself and only on the level of your own being. This means that you can judge other people *b knowledge, but you cannot judge their being* You can see in them only as much as you have in yourself* But people always make the mistake of thinking that they can judge other people's being.*3

30Ibid* * p. 107. 197 Man A cannot understand man B because man A does not understand himself* He does not recognize the self-restric­ tions of his own possibilities* He does not even recognize to what extent he does not know himself* Man A is mechanical; he is a machine* Being a machine, man A cannot sensibly attribute to himself those qualities and powers which are only attributes of a non-mechanical being* Nevertheless, at this point, the value of continuing to examine the example of man A and man B has diminished* Of more consequence, at the moment, is the subsumption of man A within the larger category of man and the return to a discussion of man's mechanicalness* Man is a machine and cannot possess certain qualities which are contrary to mechanicalness* The only way for man to possess these qualities is for him to become less mechanical, and the first way in which he can begin is to recognize that he is a machine* Such a recognition inevitably implies that he will also recognize that he does not possess certain qualities which he previously assumed that he did possess* A description of those qualities is necessary proof for substantiating their rarity* Once man begins to understand the degree of work necessary for. the possession of certain qualities, then he will also begin to understand why it is foolish for him to think that he possesses such qualities simply by telling himself that I he does. 198 Qualities Which Man Assumes That He Possesses

Those qualities which man assumes that he already possesses but which, in actuality, he does not are the capacity to do, individuality, permanent ego, consciousness, and will* These qualities were mentioned earlier in this chapter, but, now, it seems an opportune time to briefly explicate each quality. By way of the explication it may become more evident that these qualities are not available simply for the asking. They must be earned by hard and con- stand work. The work of man is the Work of acquiring these qualities. In closely examining these qualities, it is not so much convenient as it is accurate to view consciousness as the most important quality. Consciousness tends to form the matrix in which it is possible for the other qualities to occur. Consequently, the order of explication of these several psychological qualities will be consistent with their ultimate importance: First of all, what man must know is that he is not one; he is many. He has not one permanent and unchangeable 'I' or Ego. He is always different. One moment he is one, another moment he is another, the third moment ^ he is a third, and so on, almost without an end. Because man is not one does not imply that he is fragmented in the popular sense of personality

31Ibid. . p. 13. 199 disintegration. It is true that the disunity of "I’s," to an extreme, could result in severe mental disorientation, but usually, disunity of "I's” simply results in a more or less mechanical man, Moreover, it is the wont ofthe mechanical man to sustain himself on the illusion of unity. This, of course, continues to perpetuate his mechanicalness. Certain innate aspects of man himself contribute to the illusion: The illusion of unity or oneness is created in man first, by the sensation of one physical body, by his name, which in normal cases always remains the same^ and third, by a number of mechanical habits which are implanted in him by education or acquired by imitation,' Having always the . same physical sensations, hearing always the same name and noticing in himself the same habits and inclinations he had before, he believes himself to be always the same*. In reality there is no oneness in man and there is no controlling center, no permanent *1! or Ego.32 If man is to understand that he does not possess a permanent Ego, then he must realize that each of his thoughts, feelings, sensations, desires, likes, and dislikes represents an "I." Furthermore, man must under­ stand that these ,,I,s" are neither integrated nor conjoined, * • * Impressions and external circumstances predict the changes that manifest the appearance of either one HI" or another.

32Ibid. 200 Even though there is no co-ordination or connection among the "1*8," there are, nonetheless, certain groups of "I#s" which have a kind of natural affinity. To correctly regard this natural attraction among certain groups of "I*s," man must realize that such groupings are the result of specific kinds of accidents. "Now we must try to understand that there are groups of •I,st connected only by accidental associations, accidental memories, or quite imaginary similarities."^ In the strictest sense, however, each "I" is a separate entity which vies with other "I»s" for dominance. The "I" of any given moment represents only a minuscule part of a man's brain, mind, or intelligence. In actuality, though, the "I" tends to represent itself as being the whole. "When man says *1* it sounds as if he meant the whole of himself, but really even when he himself, thinks that he means it, it is only a passing thought, a passing mood, or passing desire."^ At any moment when a single "I" is dominating and representing itself as the whole, man tends to establish a belief in that "I" for as long .as it lasts. Shortly thereafter, man may express an equal and comparable belief in>a different "I." For the most part, man does * • » not remember his previous convictions

^ I b i d . . p. 14* 3^ibid., p. 15- 201 In most cases he believes in the last 'I1 which expressed itself, as long as it lasts: that is, as long as another *1* — sometimes quite unconnected with’ the preceding one — does not express its opinion or its desire louder than the first.35 It is unfortunate that man lives with the illusion of wholeness and that he does not live with the reality of his disunity. If man could recognize that he is a different "I” at almost every given moment and if he could recognize the tendency of a dominant "I" to represent it­ self as the whole, then man could begin to unify himself into a permanent "I," establish a.permanent ego, and evolve an individuality. Likewise, man would necessarily become a different being whose potentially imminent acquisi­ tion would be a higher level of consciousness. There is an interdependence among the qualities which man is capable of possessing but which he does not already possess. The interdependence, as well as inter- functioning, is entirely obvious among Will, capacity to do, and consciousness. Man assumes, as he does about all other qualities, that he can possess the capacity to do and to will simply by willing himself able* The contradiction is never evident to him. He professes to use a power which he does not have to engender that very power. Man cannot do what he does not have the will to do. The

35Ibid. 202 capacity to do is based on will and the power to will is based on 'consciousness. Things happen. Things also happen to man, and he assumes that he possesses adequate will, capacity to do, and consciousness to take credit for their happening. To take such credit is for man to assume further that he controls events among which he is one. It is absurd to think that man controls himself to a significant degree. He lacks control of himself because he does not know himself, and he does not know himself because he does not study and observe himself. Consequently, among other deficiences caused by self—ignorance, man's level of consciousness rarely exceeds the sleep level. His capacity to do and to will, as well as his capacity to acquire other psychic qualities, is dependent on and concomitant with the acquisition of a new level of consciousness. The quality of consciousness has previously been cited as being the most important and the most misleading of those qualities which man professes to possess. Because consciousness is the most important quality of man's mind and because consciousness forms a kind of matrix in which the other qualities of mind occur, additional attention should be given to several aspects of consciousness which are frequently ignored*

% 203 Special Aspects of Consciousness

A distinct dichotomy exists among modem schools of psychology regarding the existence of consciousness* The schools on one side of the dichotomy deny the concept of consciousness altogether, hut as Ouspensky says ”*.. this is simply an extravgance of misapprehension.”3** On the other side of the dichotomy, other schools acknowledge states of consciousness, hut these schools confuse thoughts, feelings, moving impulses, and sensations with actual consciousness* This is not an infrequent mistake that authors and psychologists, themselves, make when they . are writing ahout the subject of consciousness. Ouspensky*s view of consciousness opposes hoth of those views which create the previously mentioned . dichotomy: The fact is that consciousness has quite visible and observable degrees, certainly visible and observable in oneself* First, there is duration: how long one was conscious. Second, frequency of appearance: how often one became conscious* Third, the extent and penetration: of what one was conscious, which can vary very much with the growth of m a n * 37

36Ibid. .37Ibid. 204 The possible evolution of consciousness in man is equal to the possible evolution of man himself* In reference to the first two degrees, it is possible to present an example which illustrates that consciousness can be made continuous and controllable* Though extreme efforts and intense study, man can grow into a different being whose level of consciousness is sustained and controlled. Ouspensky affords the example which best illustrates the idea of the possible evolution of consciousness* The entire passage is quoted here in order to avoid any disruption of the unique phraseology of Ouspensky which is capable of shaping an elusive idea into an understandable thought: I shall try to explain' how consciousness can be studied* Take a watch and look at the second hand, trying to b£ aware of yourself. and concentrating on“the thought, *I am feter Ouspensky,1 *1 am now here.* Try not to think about anything else, simply follow the movements of the second hand and be aware of yourself, your name, your existence, and the place where you are. Keep all other thoughts away. i You will, if you are persistent, be able to do this for two minutes* This is the limit of your consciousness. And if you"Tfry to repeat W e experiment soon after, you will find it more difficult than the first time. This experiment shows that a man, in his natural state, can with great effort be conscious of one subject (himself) for two minutes or less* 205 The most important deduction one can make after making this experiment in the right way is that man is not conscious of himself. The illusion oif KTs being conscious of himself is created by memory and thought p r o c e s s e s . 38 That memory and thought processes can convince man that he is conscious of himself is easily evidenced by the example of the man who attends a party and who, afterwards, professes to have been conscious all the time. . If he is already accustomed to the other guests and to the setting, then he will be especially impervious to these things. Nevertheless, he will behave as if he were aware; he will observe and enjoy. In addition, he will remember the party as a whole and the new faces which he encountered there• He may even remember what he liked and what he disliked about the party. When the party is over, he will go home and profess to himself to have been, conscious all the while. It is his memory which facilitates the illusion of consciousness. Memory and such thought processes as reasoning, thinking, and observing maintain the self- deceptive conviction that consciousness is present when it actually is not. As a result of this deception, man has no doubts about his consciousness, but in actuality, it is this self-assurdedness which(becomes the most inobvious obstruction to the acquisition of consciousness.

38Ibid.. p. 19-20. 206 The Four States of* Consciousness

Continuing with a discussion of consciousness and for the sake of general description, it is possible to conveniently classify man's states of consciousness into four kinds. Man has the possibility of the sleep state of consciousness, the waking state of consciousness, self-consciousness, and objective consciousness. The latter state of consciousness, objective consciousness, is synonymous with cosmic consciousness which was a phrase that was used during the early part of this investigation, but which now, at this juncture, is less descriptive of and less in keeping with that further reach of self- awareness for which guidelines are given in this chapter.

* In preparation for an acceptance of that self—work which is necessary and indispensable for the fulfillment of the guidelines, a closer examination should be given to those states of consciousness which constitute a result correspondent to the amount of man's psychological effort. The lowest, or first, state of consciousness is sleep. "This is a purely subjective and passive state. Man is surrounded by dreams. All his psychic functions work without any direction. There is no logic, no sequence, no cause, and no result in dreams." The

,39Ibid. . p. 31. 207 sleep level of consciousness is further characterized by reflections of either former experiences or of vague r perceptions of the moment. These perceptions' may be the result of man sensing his own body, sensing slight pain, or sensing muscular tension. These sensations reel through the mind and leave only a trace on the memory. Frequently, though, no trace is left at all. When man awakens, he awakens into the second state of consciousness, waking consciousness or clear consciousness. In this state of consciousness man works, talks, and imagines himself to be a conscious being. This second state of consciousness is a relative consciousness because sleep does not disappear when man arrives at the second state. Sleep remains and keeps all its dreams and impressions intact. The primary difference between the first and second level of consciousness lies in the more critical attitude which man takes toward his own impressions. Additional characteristics peculiar to the second degree of consciousness are connected thoughts, disciplined actions, desires, and feelings. The feeling of contradiction or impossibility is also extant during the second level of consciousness. The feeling of contradiction or impossibility causes the dreams from the first level of consciousness to become as invisible M... as the stars

* 208 and moon become invisible in the glare of the sun."40 Nevertheless , the dreams continue to remain existent and continue to influence man’s thoughts, feelings, and actions• The implication of what, in m o d e m psychology, is called the subconscious or the subconscious mind pervades the concluding thoughts of the preceding paragraph. In discussing the overlap of dreams which occurs between the first two states of consciousness, it is inevitable that musings associated with the concept of the subconscious mind will be considered. To constrain this reaction, another point of view must be allowed to supercede. A clarification from Ouspensky can possibly dispel the misconception regarding the existence of the subconscious mind. "There is nothing’ permanently subconscious 'in us ■ i because there is nothing permanently conscious; and there is no ’subconscious mind' for the very simple reason that there is no 'conscious mind.'"4^ A further elaboration of the second degree of consciousness necessitates the acknowledgment that man is less subjective than he is in the first state of conscious­ ness. In the second state of consciousness, man "... distinguishes *1' and 'not I* in the sense of his body

4QIbid. . p. 32.

41Ibid. , p. 33.

t 209 and objects different from his body, and he can, to a certain extent, orientate among them and know their position and qualities."42 All the same, it cannot be said that man is awake in the second state of consciousness because he is still strongly influenced by dreams. In fact, "All the absurdities and all the contradictions of people, and of human life in general, become explained when we realize that people live in sleep. do everything in sleep, and do not know that they are asleep."43 Contrary to man's self-opinion concerning his natural acquisition of the higher states of consciousness, is the fact that man's consciousness is divided between two states, sleep and waking sleep. These are the two states in which man lives. Potentially, there are two other, higher states of consciousness to which man can aspire, but such aspiration entails hard and prolonged effort. The two higher states of consciousness are called self-consciousness.and objective consciousness. It is the state of self-consciousness which man most readily ascribes to himself. Man believes that he already and automatically possesses self-consciousness. That is, man assumes that he is conscious of himself. He assumes that he knows all

; 42Ibid.

43Ibid. 210 about himself and that this knowledge is predicated on accurate self-study and self—observation* "Self-conscious­ ness is a state in which man becomes objective towards himself."44 In the fourth state of consciousness, objective consciousness, the full truth about everything can be known. It is possible to study "things in themselves"4^ in the fourth state of consciousness. Objective conscious­ ness is that state in which man comes into contact with the real or objective world "... from which he is now shut off by the senses, dreams, and subjective states of AC consciousness." Objective consciousness is that state about which more than the majority of men know nothing. The objective state of consciousness"... is so fp.r frorA us that we cannot even think about it in the right way, and we must try to understand that even glimpses of ob­ jective consciousness can only come in the fully developed state of self-consciousness."47

44Ibid., p. 35. 4^Ibid. 46Ibid. 47Ibid., p. 35-36. 211 There does exist, according to Ouspensky, another point of view from which the four states of consciousness can he defined* The reference point for this additional explication is the possible cognition of truth characteris­ tic of each of the four levels* On the first level of consciousness, sleep, man cannot know anything of the truth. This does not imply the preclusion of real perceptions; instead, it implies ophumornl purity of’ thnun pornnptiomi which occur on the sleep lovel. Such perceptions become mixed with dreams. Furthermore, it is characteristic of a man's mind in the state of sleep to be incapable of distinguishing between dreams and reality. In the second state of consciousness, waking sleep, man can know only relative truth. For this reason* the second level of consciousness can be thought of as the level of relative consciousness. Truth on this level is relative to that which exists on the fourth level. Truth on the second level is, moreover, the result of that differentiation which happens between dreams and reality. On the fourth level, truth is all and all is truth, but on the second level, man hardly begins to distinguish between the imaginary and the real, his own chimera and the truth. On the third level of consciousness, self-consciousness, • 212 man possesses the complete truth about himself*# On this level, man has accomplished the learning of those tech­ niques which lead to accurate self-observation. The correct observation, in turn, leads to a self-knowledge which I manifests itself in self-consciousness. The full truth about man is revealed at this level, and the revealment is the direct result of difficult and consistent work rather than the effect of coincidence or naturalness. In the fourth state of consciousness, objective consciousness, man is able to know the complete truth about everything. On this level man is able to study a thing in itself. That is, man is able to understand the psyche of each entity as a thing unto itself as well as to understand the contribution of each separate entity to « the whole of everything else.' At the present time, this i kind of sight is remote from man. ”This (objective consciousness) is so far from us that we cannot even think i about it in the right way, and we must try to understand that even glimpses of - objective consciousness can only come in the fully developed state of self-consciousness.” If the preceding statement is true, then it behooves the man who aspires to the highest level of consciousness to acquire first a complete understanding of himself• At this point, however, it should be reiterated that the first obstacle in the way of the development of self-consciousness 213 in man is his conviction that he already possesses self- consciousness. Worse yet, if he does not already possess it, then he assumes that he can possess it any time he has the desire. It is not an easy accomplishment to persuade a man to see that he is not conscious. Of course, it is admittedly true that one person does not compel another person to see anything. At best, one person can cause another person to look. It is the person himself who chooses to see. Nevertheless, nature is capable of effecting a trick which dupes man into believing that he is conscious when he is not. The trick which nature plays on man, in relation to

\ his consciousness, is depicted in a brief passage frpm Ouspensky: If you ask a man if he is conscious or' if you say to him that he is not conscious, he will answer that he is conscious, and that it is absurd to say that he is not, because he hears and understands you. And he will be quite right. although at the same TfTme quilTe wrong." This is nature^s trick. He will heright because your question or your remark has made him vaguely conscious for a moment. Next moment consciousness will disappear. But he will remember wha-t you said and what he answered, and he will certainly consider himself conscious.48 This passage illustrates the idea that nature facilitates man in his self-lying. This is not to imply

48Ibid., p. 36-37. • 214 that man should not he held responsible for his self- deception. The point is made to underline the fact that the work which results in the acquisition of consciousness, in this case self-consciousness, is exceedingly difficult. Man must work hard to overcome the notion that he possesses qualities which, in actuality, he does not possess and to overcome the trick which nature plays to fool him into believing that he is already conscious. Man cannot agree to work if he thinks that he already possesses the very thing which can only be the result of his work. Con­ sequently, the first necessity is for man to become convinced that "... he possesses neither self-consciousness nor all that is connected with it, that is, unity or individuality, permanent *1," and will. Ouspensky judges that the only effective and efficient method for developing self-consciousness, unity, permanent •I* and will is given by schools: Men on the level of relative consciousness cannot- find these methods :s. themselves: and these methods cannot he described in looks or taught in ordinary schools for the very simple reason that they are different for different people, and there is no universal method equally applicable to ail. In other words, this means that men who want to change their state of consciousness need a school. But first they must realize their heed. As long as they think they can do something by themselves they will not be able to make any use of a school, even if 215 they find it. Schools exist only for those who need them, and who know that they need them. y A discussion of the kind of school intimated in the foregoing quotation will not he undertaken in this investi­ gation, first, because this particular study focuses more on that preliminary work which man can accomplish before a special school becomes the next, inevitable step in his progression toward self-evolution and, second, because it is assumed in this particular study that the man who accomplishes the preliminary work will prefer to proceed on his own investigatory initiative to ferret out those schools and those teachers most accommodative to his specific needs. A discussion, however, of the positive influence which Ouspensky's idea of school can exert on the popular, yet traditional, concepts of both private and public schools will be given special attention in chapter four. Furthermore, the preceding quotation does not, in any way, imply that man can do nothing without a special school. Even though it is true that the basic work of self-evolution must, except in the rarest cases, be accomplished in a special school, wherein direction and support are natural characteristics, man is, nevertheless, capable of accomplishing much toward preparation for self- evolution and school if he can realize several things about himself in the meantime.

49Ibid., p. 37-38. 216 Preliminary Realization Before Self-Study

Those things that man can realize about himself are, first, that he is not conscious, second, that he does not possess permanent 'I,' Will, or individuality, third, that he does not know himself, and fourth, that he does not know that he is a machine, a machine which can be studied* If, as it has been previously indicated, psychology means the study of man's possible evolution and if man's possible evolution is contingent on self-study, then it must be recognized that psychology really means self-study. The study of self, however, cannot proceed unless man ack­ nowledges that he is a machine. "... one must study oneself as one studies any new and complicated machine."^50 Man will acknowledge hi3 mechanicalness when he begins to see and to understand that he does not possess the* will to make anything happen. What happens to man is the re­ sult of circumstances and not the result of man's power to will. Man does not possess the power or capacity to do. At the present, he is only free to allow things tc> happen to him. Such self-restriction is a mockery of that potential liberation which mem negates by remaining self-ignorant. Assuming that he accepts his mechanicalness and proceeds to study himself from that point of view, man

50Ibid., p. 23. 217 must further realize the importance of knowing the parts of that machine which he calls himself, its chief functions, j the conditions of right work, and the causes of wrong work. The Study of The Functions of Man As a Machine

According to Ouspensky, self-study must begin with the study of the machine's functions. There are seven functions: 1. Thinking (or intellect). 2. Feeling (or emotions). 3. Instinctive function (all inner work of the organism)• 4. Moving function (all outer work of the organism, movement in space, and so on). 5* Sex (the functions of two principles, male and female, in all their manifestations)• 6. Higher emotional function (state of* self-consciousness)• 7. Higher mental function (state of objective consciousness).51 Although there are actually seven functions of the human machine, Ouspensky insists that self-study should begin with the study of only the first four functions. His reasons for discouraging the immediate study of the last three functions are quickly understood. Regarding the sex function, OuspenBky says that it

51Ibid.. p. 23-24. 218 can only be studied much later. It is important to understand the functions of thinking, feeling, instinct, and movement first. Because the sex function is actually posterior to the first four functions in its appearance in life and because these other four functions are responsible for conditioning the sex function, the sex function can be useful to self-study only after the first four functions are fully understood in their various manifestations. Referring to the last two of the seven functions, Ouspensky assures man that "As we are not in these states of consciousness we cannot study these functions or experiment with them, and we learn about them only in­ directly from those who have attained or experienced them.”-'52 It should also be noted that there is a more abundant accumulation of material available attesting to the experience of objective consciousness than there is of material attesting to the experience of self-conscious­ ness. Nevertheless, self-consciousness must always precede objective consciousness. It is logical to begin a closer examination of the * first four functions by starting with the thinking function because all mental processes are included there: "realiza­ tion of an impression, formation of representations and concepts, reasoning, comparison, affirmation, negation,

52Ibid. , p. 24. 219 formation of words, speech, and imagination.""^ It is clearly possible to take for granted what is meant by the thinking function. The second function is feeling or emotions. This function encompasses 3uch feelings as fear, joy, sorrow, and astonishment. K A The most important point concerning the study of emotional functions which can be made for the person who is seriously interested in self-study is to learn to know clearly the difference between emotional functions and thinking functions. It is easy to mix feelings and thoughts in ordinary conversation and thinking. For that reason, the person who hopes to self-study must learn to know which of his functions are thoughts Euid which of his functions are emotions. The moving function and the instinctive function are two functions which are more difficult to understand, first, because they are often confused for one another * and, second, because the instinctive function includes four different classes which must be recognized. In delineating the four different classes of the instinctive function, it is wise to refer directly to Ouspensky's own words because they are successful in presenting a complex representation succinctly:

^ Ibid. , p. 25 54Ibid.

\ 220 FIRST: All the inner work of the organism, all physiology, so to. speak; digestion and assimilation of food, breathing, circulation of the blood, all the work of inner organs, the building of new cells, the elimination of worked-out materials, the work oif glands of inner secretion, and so on* SECOND: The so-called five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch; and all other Senses such as the sense of weight, of temperature, of dryness or of moisture, and so on; that is, all indifferent sensations - ... sensations which by thcmsclvoo are neither pleasant nor unpleasant. THIRD: All physical emotions; that is, all physical sensations which are either pleasant or unpleasant* All kinds of pain or unpleasant feeling such as unpleasant taste or unpleasant smell, and all kinds of physical pleasure, such as pleasant taste, pleasant smell, and so on* FOURTH: All reflexes, even the most complicated, such as laughter and yawning; all kinds of physical memory of taste, memory of. smell, memory of pain, which are. in reality inner reflexes*55 To the moving function belong such actions as walking, writing, speaking, eating, and remembering of them. For example, if a person catches a falling object without thinking, then the function utilized is the moving function and not the thinking function* It is important to understand this example so that it can serve as a paradigm for diciphering similar situations* It is • also important to understand that the main difference between the moving function and the instinctive function

55rbid., p. 26-27. 221 is that all instinctive functions are inherent and that there is no necessity to learn them; whereas, none of the moving functions are inherent and they must be learned. At first, the ability to distinguish among functions appears to be an impossible undertaking. The truth is that with practice and concentration the recognition of which function is operative becomes progressively easier. Of additional benefit in the study of functions is any information derived from previous efforts. Ouspensky, who has sufficiently studied the functions and the inter­ action of functions offers expert information for the man who is just beginning to study the functions. For example, he says that it is useful to observe the different relationships between different functions and different states of consciousness. He further indicates specific, raanifestative arrangements between the functions and the levels of consciousness: Let us take the three states of consciousness — sleep, waking state, and possible glimpses of self-consciousness - and the four functions — thinking, feeling, instinctive, and moving. All four functions can manifest themselves in sleep, but their manifestations are desultory and unreliable; they cannot be used in any way, they just go by themselves. In the state of waking consciousness or relative consciousness, they can to a certain extent serve for our orientation. Their results can be compared, verified, straightened out; and although they may create many illusions, still in our ordinary state we have nothing else and must make of them what we can. If we knew the quantity of 222 wrong observations, wrong theories, wrong deductions and conclusions made in this state, we should cease to believe ourselves altogether. But men do not realize how deceptive their observations and their theories can be, and they continue to believe in them. It is this that keeps men from observing the rare moments when their functions manifest themselves in connection with glimpses of the third state of consciousness; that is, of self-consciousness.56 From the above quotation it is easy to conclude that

• « the four functions can manifest themselves in each of the three states of consciousness. Depending on the specific arrangement of functions on a particular level of con­ sciousness, the results are entirely different. It is the responsibility of the man who is studying himself to learn to observe closely the relationships between functions and different levels of consciousness. Before, however, a man commences, to consider the difference in functions in re­ lation to various levels of consciousness, it is important that man understand that his consciousness and his functions are entirely different phenomena. Functions and conscious- * • • ness have different causes and different natures. For these reasons, "Functions can exist without consciousness, and consciousness can exist without functions." 57 Before furthering the guidelines along which a man can advance toward acquiring that information which is necessary

56Ibid. , p. 28-29. 57Ibid., p. 30. 223 for self-study, several of the preceding thoughts should t he restated. First, the four functions must be under­ stood in all their manifestations. Second, the functions must be observed in oneself. Third, self—observation must proceed with a preliminary understanding of the relation­ ships between different functions and.different levels of consciousness. These ideas constitute the beginning of the - r - * basis for self-study. Personality and Essence

The next step in constructing guidelines for self- study is to signify the division in man between the real and the imaginary. It is difficult for man to study him­ self and to know himself when he does not know what is * real and what is imaginary in him. Furthermore, it is impossible for man to study himself as a whole when, in fact, he is divided into two parts. One part, in some cases, can be almost all real, and the other part, in some cases, can be almost all imaginary.^58 In most cases these parts are intermixed in man although they can be clearly distinguished from one another. In Ouspensky's system of psychology, these parts are called personality and essence. Personality is what is acquired in man and essence is what is b o m in man.

58Ibid. , p. 41. 224 "Personality is what is not his own. Essence cannot be lost, cannot be changed or injured as easily as personality. Personality can be changed almost completely with the change of circumstances; it can be lost or easily injured."-^ A discussion of, first, personality and, then, essence will yield the following comments. Personality is all that is learned consciously or unconsciously. The word •'unconsciously" is meant to imply imitation. Through both imitation and imagination man acquires likes and dislikes which contribute to the construction of his personality. It is easily possible for man's personality to become dominate in him. When this happens, essence is subjugated and overshadowed. The domination of essence by personality is what-allows * man to like what is bad for him. A description of essence is no more or less than a description of man's physical and mental makeup. "For instance, one' man is naturally what is called a good sailor, another is a bad sailor; one has a musical ear, another has not; one has a capacity for languages, another has not. This is essence."60 The main problem in the mutual relationship between personality and essence is domination. If essence

^Ibid. , p. 42. 60Ibid. 225 dominates personality, then man will probably like what is good for him. Furthermore, if essence dominates person­ ality, man's personality can be quite useful. If, on the other hand, personality dominates essence, man will be inclined, as previously mentioned, to prefer that which is bad for him. From the foregoing pronouncements, it is possible to determine that personality is something that a person should try to eliminate in himself. That, however, is not the case. Personality can be quite useful. In fact, personality is necessary for man. "One cannot live without personality and only with essence. But essence and personality must grow parallel, and the one must not outgrow the other."^ A person must simply be wary of personality because it is full of wrong ideas about itself. A person does hot need to look too far in order to ♦ find imbalance between the personality and the essence in man. Among uneducated people cases of essence outgrowing personality may frequently occur. Such people may be very good, but their capacity to develop is limited in a way which is not true for people with more developed personality. On the other hand, copious examples can be

61Ibftd.. p. 43. 226 found among more cultured people of* personality over­ shadowing essence. Oftentimes, a more cultured people will overemphasize the growth of personality at the ex­ clusion of the growth of essence. When, for example, the growth of personality is quick and early, "... growth of essence can practically stop at a very early age, and as a result we see man and women externally quite grown-up, but whose•essence remains at the age of ten or twelve.” 62 Needless to say, the conditions of modern life are conducive to the underdevelopment of essence. For example, in contemporary society, there is an infatuation with those involvements which accent and stress a person's i outward behavior while ignoring, or obliterating, the innermost qualities of the person. Those involvements • * which necessitate conformity, while emphasizing personality, are the most cruel to essence. Ouspensky says that sports, particularly games, "can effectively stop the development of essence, and sometimes at such an early age that essence go is never fully able to recover later." J Connection Between Functions and rornonali ty and Knnonco

The next, logical step in building guidelines which can begin to facilitate man's self-study is dependent on

^Ibid. , p. 44. 63Ibid. 227 illustrating the connection between the functions and the two parts of man, personality and essence. Ouspensky assorts that from ordinary psychology, as well as from ordinary thinking, man knows that ”... the intellectual functions, thoughts, and so on, are controlled or produced by a certain center which we call 'mind' or 'intellect,' or 'the brain. Furthermore, Ouspensky avers that the other functions are also controlled each by its own mind or center: There are four minds or centers which control our ordinary actions: intellectual mind, emotional mind, moving mind, and instinctive mind. In further references to them we shall call them centers. Each center is quite independent of the others, has its own sphere of action, its own powers, and its own ways of development An additional point that is relevant to the struoture of centers is two fold. First, the capacities, strong sides, and defects of centers belong to essence. Second, all that a center acquires, its contents, belong to personality. In order to construct usable guidelines for self- study, it is necessary to present a more detailed examina­ tion of centers. Even though, in reality, each center occupies the whole body, each center also has its own center of gravity. "The center of gravity of the

64Ibid. , p. 45. 65Ibid. intellectual center is in the brain; the center of gravity of the emotional center is in the solar plexus; the centers of gravity of the moving and instinctive centers are in the spinal cord,” 66 Ouspensky says that ordinary science9 and even anatomy, has no present way of verifying the contents of this latter quotation. He says that even though the centers are hidden, it is still possible to observe the functions of centers which are entirely open. Furthermore, Ouspensky illustrates the usual course of science when it encounters an impasse to investigation. ”... when we cannot reach the facts or objects or matters we wish to study, we have to begin with an investigation of their results or traces.”^?7 It follows naturally from this comment that if a person deals with the direct functions of centers, which are observalbe, then what is established about functions can be applied to centers. With this in mind, it is the present responsibility of this investigation to build detailed guidelines for the observation of functions and centers which are based on models taken from the work of Ouspensky.

66Ibid., p.77. 67Ibid. Speed of Centers

One of the most important principles in relation to centers is the great difference in their speed. The slowest is the intellectual center. The next centers, in terms of increased speed, are the moving and instinc­ tive centers. These two centers are nearly equal in speed. The fastest of all centers is the emotional center although Ouspensky warns that ”... in the state of *waking sleep* it works only very rarely with anything approximating to its real speed, and generally works with the speed of the instinctive and moving centers.”68 It is both important work of the system of Ouspensky and important work of the self-studying person to observe the speed of centers in himself. Much can be learned through this observation. A person should try, for in­ stance , to compare the speed of mental processess with the speed of moving functions. If a person who is driving a car rapidly over a bad road tries to make this kind of self-observation, then he sees at once that he cannot observe all of his movements. Ouspensky comments about man trying to make this kind of self-observation in.this way; ”You will either have to slow them down or miss the greater part of your observations; otherwise you will risk

68Ibid. , p. 78. 230 an accident and probably have one if you persist in observing.”^ There are many similar observations which man can make and does make, but man rarely knows the value of his observations, the value which is reflective of self-study. At this juncture, it may be interesting to speak about the speed of centers in a more definite manner. Although ordinary means are not suitable for the calculation of the difference in the speed of centers, a figure exists which will facilitate a kind of mathema­ tical observation of the speeds. It is a strange figure with a cosmic meaning. In fact, the figure is used to divide ♦ * many cosmic processes from each other. This figure is 30,000. ’S.* the moving and instinctive centers are 30,000 times faster than the intellectual center.' And the emotional center, when it works with its proper speed, is 30,000 times faster than the moving and instinctive centers.”70 ' This idea of different speeds for different centers is also important because of its implication about times It actually means that different centers have a quite different time. The instinctive and moving centers have 30,000 times longer time than the intellectual center, and the emotional center has 30,000 times longer time than the moving and instinctive centers.

69Ibid., p. 79- i

231 Do you understand clearly what 'longer time * means? It means that , for every kind of work that a center has to do , it has so much more time. However strange it may be, this fact of the great difference in the speed of centers explains many well-known phenomena which ordinary science cannot explain and which it generally passes over in silence, or simply refuses to discuss* I am referring now to the astonishing and quite inexplicable speed of some of the physiological and mental processes. ?1 An example of the actualization of the comments in the foregoing quotation can be observed when a man drinks a glass of whiskey or even a glass of water. Immediately, he experiences many sensations and feelings. He probably experiences feelings such as relaxation, contentment, relief, and in the case of the whiskey, warmth. The drinking can even cause such unexpected responses as anger and irritation. The difference in speed among the many processes which takes place from simply swallowing a liquid are miraculous. In fact, the processes themselves are miraculous. Yet, a man who is accustomed to these phenomena rarely realizes how incomprehensible they are. On the other hand, a man who has never thought about himself and who has never tried to study himself will not be amazed by those miracles which occur within himself. In reality, there are many complicated processes between

71Ibid. , p. 80. 232 the time a man swallows a liquid and the time when effects become manifest. The man who is oblivious to his centers will not appreciate the fact that any substance which enters the body by way of the mouth has to be analyzed and, then, accepted or rejected. The fantastic idea here is that all of these processes happen in a second or loss. It has already been stated that this is a miracle, and yet, if man knows the difference in the speed of centers and if he remembers that the instinctive center has 30,000 times more time than the intellectual center, which is the center by which man measures ordinary time, then man can discard the concept of miracles and begin i to truly know how processes in himself happen. The fact that man thinks that those processes in himself happen with extraordinary speed is simply one more illusion to which man subjects himself when his deficit is self- knowledge, The only conception of time which man has is that which is provided to him by the intellectual center. In that case it can be said that in the cosmic sense, man is ignorant of time in much the same way and for many of the same reasons that he is self—ignorant. Positive and Negative Parts of Centers

In furthering the guidelines of this chapter and of the particular subject of centers, it is necessary to try 233 to understand another, additional, idea. Centers are divided into two parts, positive and negative. This division is clearly more visible in the intellectual center, the instinctive, and the moving center than in the emotional center. The work of the intellectual center is divided into affirmation and negation. Whenever man is thinking, either affirmation outweighs negation or negation out­ weighs affirmation. In rare instances an equal strength is maintained between the two parts. In terms of useful­ ness, the-positive part is as important as the negative part. In fact, according to Ouspensky, mental disorders are the result of diminishing strength in either one or the other part. i life orientation is clearly dependent upon the instinctive center. Beneficial life conditions are indicated by pleasant sensations of taste, smell, touch, temperature, warmth, and coolness. Whereas, on the other hand, conditions which are harmful to life are indicated by sensations of oppressive heat, extreme cold, bad taste, bad smell, or unpleasant touch.'72 It is vital that the instinctive center functions in man. Man is guided away from illness, danger, and death by his instinctive center. If, for example, man were to conquer his unpleasant Ben-

72Ibid. , p. 83. 234 sations, then he would make himself vulnerable to a number of mistakes which could lead to his distruction. The moving center requires minimal examination be­ fore its negative part and positive part can be understood. In terras of practical observation, the moving' center has no meaning. Either a person is moving or at rest. Beyond this logical interpretation, there is little more to say. Of all the centers, the emotional center is the most difficult and the most deceptive center to analyze. At first glance the division appears to be quite simple. Joy, affection, and sympathy would appear to belong to 4 the positive part while boredom, irritation, and jealousy would appear.to-belong to' the negative part of the emotional center. All of this seems too simple, and it is. In actuality, the emotional center is much more complicated. In the first place, there is' no negative part in the emotional center. Most negative emotions belong to the emotional center proper and are based on in­ stinctive emotions. Furthermore,"... positive emotions such as 'love,* 'hope,* 1faith,* in the sense in which they are usually understood — that is, as permanent emotions — are impossible for a man in the ordinary state consciousness.*'^^ Positive emotions require the

^Ibid. , p. 84- 235 possession of inner unity, self-consciousness, permanent "I," and Will, A person could argue that such emotions as joy, sympathy, and affection are positive emotions and that he knows that he possesses them. At any moment, however, joy can turn into sadness, sympathy can turn into irritation, and affection can turn into hatred. Even a purely in­ tellectual emotion can become mixed with emotions of a negative kind such as self-pride or vanity. Prom this it is possible to say that man does not have any positive emotions. In addition, it can also be stated that man does not have any negative emotions without imagination and i identification wliich are two of four psychological aspects which thwart man's development. These four psychological aspects will bo examined later. At present, it is sufficient to proceed with an explanation of centers. Subdivision of The Centers

Man possesses four centers, and it has been stated that each center can be, with the emotional center re­ maining the questionable center, divided into two parts, positive and negative. Besides the division into two parts, however, each of the four centers can be divided into three parts. These three parts bear the same names as the centers themselves. "The first part is 'mechanical,' 236 including moving and instinctive principles, or one of them predominating; the second is •emotional, • and the third is •intellectual#*"74 The center is divided into positive and negative parts# Each of these two parts is divided into three parts. Consequently, each center actually consists of six parts. Additionally, each of these six parts is subdivided into a mechanical, an emotional, and an intellectual part# The intellectual center can serve as an example for a closer examination of this concept of divisions# The division of the intellectual center into three parts is quite simple. The mechanical part works automatically. ■ This means that even then circumstances are completely changed, the mechanical part continues to 4 * • work in the same way in which it worked before circum­ stances were affected. The mechanical part of the intellectual center is responsible for registration of impressions, memories, and associations. This is all that falls within the normal range of its work. If, however, other parts of the center do not do their work, then the mechanical part of the intellectual center will reply to questions outside of its domain. "Unfortunately, in actual fact, it is always ready to decide and it always replies to questions

74Ibid.. p. 107• 237 of all sorts in a very narrow and limited way, in ready-made phrases, in slang expressions, in party 7 ( 5 slogans •" The mechanical part of the intellectual center which produces ready-made responses is called the formatory apparatus or the formatory center: It is always possible to recognize *formatory , thinking.* For instance, the formatory center can count only up to two. It always divides every­ thing in two: .’bolshevism and fascism,' 'workers and bourgeois,* 'proletarians and capitalists,' and so on. We owe most modern catchwords to formatory thinking, and not only catchwords but nil modern popular theorinn. Perhaps it in possible to sny that at all times all popular theories are formatory.76 The emotional part of the intellectual center con­ sists of what Ouspensky calls an intellectual emotion. m Examples of the intellectual emotion are the desire to know, the desire to understand, satisfaction of knowing, dissatisfaction of not knowing, and the pleasure of discovery. Even though the work of the emotional part demands full attention, in this particular part of the center, attention does not require any effort. It is compelled and held attracted by the subject itself. The intellectual part of the intellectual center requires the kind of attention that is predicated on will 1 75Ibid>. , p. 109- 76Ibid. 238 and effort* In fact, this part cannot work without attention. The capacity for creation, construction, in­ vention, and discovery are characteristics of the in-• tellectual part of the intellectual center. In the preceding descriptions, the word ‘'attention'* appeared strategically. That is as it should be since attention is the chief criterion in studying parts of centers. Ouspensky has much to say about this idea, and it is valuably to keep his thoughts intact and to quote the entire passage in which "attention" is the main interests If we take them from the point of view of attention we shall know at once in which part of centers we are. Without attention or with attention wandering, we are in the mechanical part; with the attention attracted by the subject of observation or reflection and kept there, we are in the emotional part; with the attention controlled and held on the subject by will, wo are in the intellectual part. At the same time, the same method shows hows to make the intellectual parts of centers work. .By observing attention and trying to control it, we compel ourselves to work in the intellectual parts of centers, because the same principle refers to all centers equally, although it may not be so easy for us to distinguish intellectual parts in other centers, as for instance the intellectual part of the instinctive center, which works without any attention that we can perceive or control.

77Ibid. , p. 110-111 239 The study of centers requires a certain degree of consciousness. The degree which is required is certainly not that degree which is the final result of self-study. In other words, the degree of consciousness required for the successful study of centers is equal to partial awakening or to the beginning of awakening. Also, man requires attention to study his centers. Again, the study of attention, itself, necessitates partial awakening. A sufficient understanding of the difference of functions of the different parts of different centers will yield the kind of self-knowledge which is characteristic of the man who possesses higher consciousness, but that understanding does not come into existence without a struggle. Man must struggle against his state of sleep and against those characteristics which are typical of that state. Man cannot acquire those habits which will lead him to con­ sciousness unless he eliminates in himself those destructive habits which prevent him from self-observation. Self- observation is important, and in observing himself, man should remember that self-study is his first step towards self-evolution. Mechanical Habits Which Interfere With Self-Study

Speaking in general about those habits which are mechanical and which interfere with man's self-study, it ^ t 240 is possible to name four harmful features. The first is lying and can be defined simply as "... speaking about things one does not know, and even cannot know, as though one knows and can know.*' 78 As long as a person remains mechanical it is impossible to escape lying. The more a person thinks that he is free from lying, the more he is in it. lying in this contest is not intended to imply any moral* judgments. The implication intended is that lying is harmful to self-study and to self-development. Man lies to himself about himself. He answers questions about everything when, in actuality, he knows almost nothing about anything. He fools himself into believing that he knows and understands and he, likewise, attempts to fool others in a similar manner. He never escapes being the victim of his own illusion. He never stops lying. A second harmful feature of mechanical man is imagination. When man begins to observe himself, he soon learns that imagination interfers with observation. At that point when he trys to self-observe, imagination will change the direction of his mind and will carry him away from a moro conscious direction. Imagination is as bad as lying in that it results in lying to oneself. "Man starts to imagine something in order to please himself, and very soon he begins to believe what he imagines, or

78Ibid. , p. 48. 241 at least some of it."'?7Q A third manifestation of mechanicalness in man is negative emotions. Since the concept of negative emotions has been previously enunciated in this study, it is sufficient at this point simply to account for its existence and to add a necessary comment. Man ordinarily

* accepts the expression of negative emotions as being entirely natural. Man dupes himself into this acceptance and then thinks of it as being sincere. "Of course it has nothing to do with sincerity; it is simply a sign of weakness in man, a sign of bad temper and of incapacity to keep his grievances to himself." 8 0 Man becomes aware of his lack of control over negative emotions when he tries to oppose them. In addition, he also realizes to what degree he is mechanical and to what degree that mechanical— ness creates obstacles to self-study. The fourth mechanical feature which obstructs self- study and self-observation is talking. It is not that talking is a harmful vehicle of expression; it is that with some people, especially with those who notice it least, it really becomes a vice. They talk all the time, everywhere they happen to be, while working, while

79Ibid., p. 49. 80Ibid. 242 traveling, even while sleeping,” 81 Every person has, at one time or another, been distracted by his own or by another person's talking. That from which the person was distracted probably counted as little more than a dis­ traction itself. Nevertheless, interference was created 9 w by talking which changed the direction of the mind. Man must realize that silence is not necessarily cause for guilt. He must relinguish his tendency to talk just for the sake of talking. Man will have difficulties in observing lying, imagination, the expression of negative feelings, and unnecessary talking in himself because he is utterly mechanical. He forgets to observe himself. He falls asleep again and must be awakened before he can continue to self-study. Considering and Identification

There are two features which are peculiar to man's falling asleep. The first one Ouspensky calls "identification,” and he ^ays about it that it "... is a curious state in which man passes more than half of his Qp life." To say that man spends more than half of his life identifying is to say that man lacks the impartiality of objective consciousness. That is no surprising thought

81Ibid., p. 50. 8^Ibid., p. 51. * *

243 since this entire investigation is founded on the belief that man does not possess objective consciousness, or,for that matter, self-consciousness* Certainly, identification is one more obstacle to acquiring any kind of consciousness* As long as man identifies, he will forego objective consciousness and will continue to be absorbed by the idea, the feeling, or the object that attracts him. "Such manifestations as lying, imagination, the expression of negative emotions, and constant talking need identification. They cannot exist without identification."8^ What this quotation implies is that if man could rid himself of identification, then he could expect to lose those mechani­ cal manifestations which prevent him from successfully studying himself. Similar to identification is another.phenomenon which produces a sleep state. It is called "considering" and might be more accurately viewed as being synonymous with the sleep state instead of being only conducive to it. Considering is a state in which man worries about what 4 other people think of him. Considering can become an obsession for some people. "All their lives are filled with considering - that is, worry, doubt, and suspicion - Q A and there remains no place for anything else." The

83Ibid. 84Ibid. . p. 52. 244 "anything else," of course, refers .to self-knowledge. Both identifying and considering, which is simply identification with people, must be diminished if knowledge of self is to occur. Along a similar line of thought, man must see that only full knowledge of identification and considering can diminish them. Ouspensky suggests that if a person cannot detect identifying and considering in himself, then he should look to see them in other people. This does not mean that an essential aspect of self-work is contingent on the construction of a critical view of other people. Ouspensky's thought is meant only to serve as a reminder to man of the existence of a certain kind of equality, the equality of innate self-ignorance. Levels of Man1s Being

Continuing to speak about man from the point of view of centers, it is possible to indicate a convenient categorization for the man who is never conscious, for the man who is struggling to become conscious, and for the rare man who is already fully conscious. The need for a categorization arises from a specific language problem. To wit, ,l... the word 'man' in ordinary language does not D r admit of any variation or any gradation." 3 Consequently,

85Ibidt., p. 53. 245 it is important to utilize a system of categorization for the word "man*1 in order to classify some of the ideas concerning consciousness and centers. Because Ouspensky*s classification is particularly useful and inclusive, it will be presented here in its entirety: The first three categorizes are practically on the same level. Man no . 1 , a man in whom the moving or instinctive centers predominate over the intellectual and emotional, that is, Physical man. Man no. 2, a man in whom the emotional center predominates over the intellectual, moving, and instinctive. Emotional man. Man no. 3, a man in whom the intellectual center predominates over the emotional, moving, instinctive. Intellectual man. In ordinary life we meet only these three categories of man. Each one of us and everyone we know is either no. 1, no. 2, or no. 3« There are higher categories of man^ but men are not born already belonging to these higher categories. They are all born no. 1, no. 2, no. 3, and can reach higher categories only through schools. Man no. 4 is not bora as such. He is a product of school culture. He differs from man no. 1, no. 2, and no. 3 by his knowledge of himself, by his understanding of his position, and, as it is expressed technically, by his having acquired a permanent center of gravity. This last means that the idea of acquiring unity, consciousness, permanent 'I,* and Will - that is, the idea of his development - has already become for him more important than his other interests. It must be added to the characteristics of man no. 4, that his functions and centers are more balanced, in a way in which they could not be balanced without work on himself, according to school principles and methods. 246 Man no* 5 is a man who has acquired unity and self-consciousness* He is different from ordinary man because in him, one of the higher centers already works, and he has many functions and powers that an ordinary man - that is, man no* 1 , 2, and 3 - does not possess* Man no. 6 is a man who has acquired objective consciousness. Another higher center works in him* tie possesses many more new faculties and powers, beyond the understanding of an ordinary man. Man no. 7 is a man who has attained all that a man can attain. He has a permanent *1* and free Will* He can control all states oT con­ sciousness in himself and he already cannot lose anything he has acquired. According to another description, he is immortal within the limits of the solar sys'temT8‘6 The existence of a categorization of man not only permits a broader possibility for a discussion of man’s levels of being, but it also allows for the possibility of finding the right solution to another problem. For instance, there are certain extant ideas concerning Art and the Artist which are foolish and insupportable. The wholesale acceptance of the product of art as exemplary of a supra-conscious mind and the equally wholesale acceptance of the artist as the embodiment of an unimpeachable human being are two such foolish and insupportable ideas. The problam from the acceptance of these ideas obviously occurs when empirical evidence is in direct contradiction to expectation. For example, how is it possible'that the

86Ibid., p. 53-55. artist, a creator of beauty, can kill his neighbor and not feel the irreconcilableness between the act of destruction and the allegedly constructive nature of himself, the artist? If reference is made to the categorization of man, then it becomes immediately apparent that such con­ tradictions are explainable. In fact, it can be seen at once that the artist who destroys another human being is definitely one of the men who comprise the lower part of the seven categories of man. Actually, what this says is that a man can be an artist who creates art and who, nevertheless, murders his neighbor. This viewpoint further implies that man as the artist can appear on any one of the seven levels of being. Furthermore, the classification of man into seven categories precludes acceptance of the concept of artist as a static, inflexible mold into which all producers of art objects must be forced to fit if they are to be recognized as being an artist. Just as the single word "man** does not adequately allow for differences of consciousness among men, the word "artist” disallows the truth concerning the different levels of consciousness among artists. It follows naturally from this explanation that similar differences must exist among men who are philosophers, scientists, or teachers.. "There must be an, art of man no. 1, an art of man no. 2, an art of man no. 3; science of man no. 1 , 248 science of* man no. 2, science of man no. 3, science of man no. 4, and so on.11 87 The classification of man into seven categories, then, according to his.control over centers and consciousness, affords an additional instrument that is useful for self-study. If man is to become conscious, then he must, first, observe himself in ways which are uncommon to him. Man must realize that to observe himself means more than simply to account for his peculiar capacities, tastes, and desires. To self—observe implies the necessity of man to recognize himself as being a machine and to learn the structure of that machine. To know the structure of his machine, man must learn its parts, the functions of different parts, and the conditions governing their work. So, man must study himself, and to study himself, he must observe himself. This work cannot be done for man; he must do it for himself. He must realize that it is necessary to observe different functions and to distinguish among them. And, he must, at the same time, keep in his mind the idea about different levels of consciousness and about the harm from falling asleep. If man can do these things, then he will soon achieve results that are satisfying to him. He should, however, be prepared to accept that about himself which irritates him as well as

87Ibid. , p. 56. 249 that about himself which pleases him. In studying himself, he is bound to like that in himself which helps him to develop and to dislike that in himself which thwarts development. Nevertheless, he must continue to observe himself regardless of those unfavorable odds which originate both within himself as well as outside himself because self-observation is the first and indispensable step towards possible evolution and the acquisition of consciousness. CHAPTER.POUR Man As A Problem Solver Aslcs The Wrong Questions

The distance is long between the definition of the word "consciousness'1 and the establishment of a practicum which offers suggestions for an educational setting in which a different kind of human being can develop. That distance, though, must be traveled if man is to become a conscious being and if he is, subsequently, to solve those problems which have remained, heretofore, unsolved. Man frequently searches for the solutions to his problems within his own institutions and foolishly disregards the fact that the total conceptions of the institutions are reflective of the cause of the problems themselves. It is often possible to observe how man perpetuates his problems when he trys to solve them. In the name of mental and physical progress, man reaches higher, but he most often reaches from the same level. There are a number of practical examples which, though pathetically simple, furnish the same point. Two such examples will suffice. If a man is reaching for the ceiling of a room by standing on a pile of three books, and if he is short of 250 251 his target hy an inch, then he will naturally add a fourth book to the pile if a fourth hook is available. It would be senseless- for a man in this position to simply exchange the first three books for three others which are equally as high. It will make no difference whether or not the new books are handsomely bound or illustrated. The man's reach will remain the same. Equally as foolish is the man on a ladder who expects to reach the trough under the eaves of his house and who refuses to go higher than the third rung. Instead, he challenges the manufacturer of the ladder and insists on a replacement. Of course the replacement will be of no avail for as long as the man continues to remain stubbornly on the third rung. He, however, is not able to understand why the new ladder does not help him to solve his problem. In the end, the man decides that what he needs is a taller ladder. In a sense, the foregoing examples are exaggerated, but in another sense, they exemplfy a stark truth about man. t In a problem situation, he frequently asks the wrong questions and, consequently determines causes which are inappropriate to the problems. Andrew Weil makes a similar observation about the questionable data which is yielded from research techniques on psychoactive drugs. He says that those people who are concerned with the experimentation 252 on psychoactive drugs ”... have asked the wrong question. In particular, you have tried to make something a causal variable that is not a causal variable.” For all of man's alleged progress, he remains ignorant about the harmful effects which his progress causes. He works to correct harmful effects with the perspective of an ant. That is, he throws his entire effort into the removal of one particle of earth and rarely.sees, and. never foresees, the heavy foot behind him. The implication, here, is that man assumes that the solutions to his problems lie within the material world. A deduction from this statement suggests that the elimination of drug problems, pollutants, overpopulation, crime, and war is contingent on the manipulation of material entities not the least of which is the human being. It follows from these comments that man's inventions and discoveries are frequently opposed to actual progress. Man's sleep level of consciousness is directly associable with those, contradictions which typify his state of existence. Everett Reimer calls this deception the myth of progress and says that such a myth is ”... facod with a set of very hard facts, which contradict its assumptions.” 2 Reimer goes on to imply that consciousness is primary in

Veil, The Natural Mind, p. 8. ^Everett Reimer, School is Dead (New Yorks 1972) , p. 43* 253 detecting the myth of progress: How are these contradictions reconciled? They are kept from consciousness primarily by the ritual of research - the continuing quest for new knowledge , new insights, new techniques# Research is a very important non—ritual fact, but it is also an important ritual — inducing the belief that new discoveries change the whole picture, that every day, is a new day with a new set of rules and possibilities# This is clearly false. Even the most important new discoveries and inventions leave almost everything else unchanged #3 The gyrations which are characteristic of men in progress often cause them to bump into one another# Their directions are diverse and their positive accomplishments are few. Their minds garner information pertinent to a description of the physical world and neglect with con­ sistency the real world of causes, the noumena behind the phenomena. It is a lack of consciousness which explains man's tendency to ask the wrong questions and to proceed to solve his problems on the wrong bases# "Wrong" may be thought of in terms of ineffectuality# From the preceding paragraphs it is easy to establish the idea that the underlying contention of this chapter, in fact, the underlying contention of this entire study, advances nonmaterial factors as the cause of material effects. It is for this reason that a deliberate avoidance occurs in this chapter of specific programs and proposals

^Ibid. , p. 43-44# 254 which simply amount to a manipulation of physical objects in the name of amelioration. The harmful effects of man’s institutions,- in fact, of all of man’s ameliorative efforts, will continuo to bo ineffectual as long as his perceptions originate on a sleep level of consciousness and as long as his consequent procedures from that level are directed toward only the manipulation of the material world. Schools As A Focal Point For Effecting Social Change

Of those institutions in which man must confront the harmful effects of his own self-ignorance, the institution of school looms as the most controversial. The occurrence of innumerable volumes, which indict schooling strategies, attests to the quantity of people who are awakening to the technological predisposition of schools. Everett Heimer speaks concisely, but eloquently, concerning this point: Schools treat people and knowledge the way a technological world treats everything: as if they could be processed. Anything can, of course, be processed, but only at a price, part of which involves ignoring certain aspects of the thing and certain by-products-of the process. The price of processing people is intrinsically high. They tend to resist. What has to be left \ unprocessed may be the most important part of the person. Some of the by-products of educational processing are already evident. The greatest danger, however, lies in the prospect of* success. A successfully processed humanity would lose the little control of its destiny that has always disj tinguished man from the rest of the world• An acceptable interpretation of Reimer*s concluding comment could be that a successfully processed human being loses his potential for becoming more fully developed which, in Ouspensky*s terms, implys becoming a different human being. « Schools are a justifiable focal point for an ameliocative program for institutions because schools create social reality. Schools create and perpetuate the reality in which all other institutions exist. If different human beings are to become a common characteristic of a society, which in turn will become different, then schools must take the responsibility.for the occurrence of different human beings. There is, incidentally, no naivete behind that statement. It is made with a full awareness of the political network which prevents any proposal that is strictly designed for human benefit from reaching actualization. Those who machinate against human benefit take an unequivocal position toward their own self-actualization and the self-actualization of other people. First, such machinators have undoubtedly denied their own

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ' ' ■ j 4Ibid., p. 35. 5Ibid. , p. 31. 256 ’ self-actualization as illustrated by the fact that they could not belong to a political network which rejects self-actualization and, yet, claim self-actualization for themselves* It is a manifold contradiction of principles, intentions, commitments, and practices. Second, machinators against human benefit cannot afford to allow their social charges to self-actualize because self- actualization entails the acquisition of a level of

■ consciousness which would become an imminent threat to tho political network# In other words, schools do not intend to acquaint students with the responsibility of living with freedom. On the contrary, schools demand that students learn how to live without it. If social change is significantly dependent on schools and if schools are largely governed by people who, for political reasons, cannot afford to allow students to become^aware of themselves and their oppression, then society will, likewise, remain populated by a cowed and supressed majority. These dour thoughts seem to portend futility, and for too many years, they have. A Revolution of Consciousness

Currently a different inclination toward change is occurring. There is a growing consensus among writers and thinkers that a revolution of consciousness is taking 257 place. The kind and quality of consciousness indicative of this revolution is not to be confused with any of the higher levels of consciousness which have been explicated in this study. On the other hand, that consciousness which typifies the revolution of consciousness is pertinent % and useful for social change. Even though it is not of the cosmic proportions which characterize Ouspensky*s conception «of consciousness, the consciousness which is becoming widespread is of notable benefit to the possible engenderment of the higher levels of consciousness. There are three reasons for this possibility. First, possessors of the new consciousness are intolerant of that blindness which has created and perpetuated poverty, law making by private power, un­ controlled technology, the destruction of environment, the docline of democracy, the artificiality of work and culture, the absence of community, disorder, hypocrisy, war, corruption, and the loss of self.** Second, and as a direct result of the first reason, the people of new consciousness clearly view the alternative of self-actuali­ zation to bo tho moot suitable antidote by which to counteract these daily evils, aB well as the long range effects of psychological oppression, which are present

^Charles Reich. The Greening of America. (New York: 1971) , p. 4-7. " T " 258 in Ainoricnn nocity. Third , thono name people of now consciousness, having barely sampled the full effect of a higher level of consciousness, have experienced enough awakening power of mind to want to strive further for the acquisition of the ultimate power of mind, objective consciousness. This, in part, explains the contemporary drug preoccupation. It has, however, been assumed falsely by many people that the way to higher consciousness is through psychoactive drugs. Robert S. DeRopp calls the pursuit of man's inner powers the "Master Game" and dis­ claims the use of drugs as an agent which can successfully help man to acquire higher consciousness: ... the Master Game, which involves the awakening of the powers latent in man, can no more be played by swallowing a pill than can a difficult mountain peak be ascended by sitting in an armchair.drinking beer and indulging in daydreams. If the spiritual heights could be ascended by taking psychedelics, then both the Sufis of Islam and the yogis of India would long ago have discovered the fact, for the subtlest and most 'spiritual* of all psychedelics (hashish) has been available in the East for centuries.' C onsc1pushess and Age

Working inversely from the proposition that social change is dependent on schools and remembering that a new consciousness is prevalent, it is conceivable that the

/ ^Robert DeRaim. The Master Game. (New York: 1968). p. .23-24• ------new breed of educators will infiltrate this new conscious­ ness into the schools# This does not mean that the entire amelioration of those sources of harmful effects in schools must be dependent on relatively young people. The dependency is on consciousness and not on age. It is possible for an older person, who has been steeped in self-ignoranee to emerge into consciousness by availing himself of the same methods that a young person uses. The difference between those people who are conscious and those people who are not conscious is not a matter of age. Becoming conscious is a matter of willingness, work, and right conditions. Furthermore, it is not accurate to assume that one person*s consciousness breeds consciousness in another person for much the same reason that it is not sensible to assume a person's guilt by association with another person. In both cases, there is an active in­ volvement and a passive positioning. If a person's passive position can activate acrime, then the instance is an exception to the rule. A point which was made earlier in this study prevails again. A person cannot both act and not act at the same time. Consciousness is dependent on active work. A person cannot become conscious simply through wishful illusions. Many of today's young are making the effort to become conscious because they under­ stand the need for a new level of awareness. If older ♦ 260 people become acquisitive of a new level of awareness, it will be for the-same reason. Contradictory Use of Consciousness In Schools

The infiltration of consciousness into the schools through people who have worked seriously and consistently at self—actual!zation is not enough to effect the change that will dissipate the harm that is done to students. Again, it is neither safe nor sensible to rely on the passive transference of consciousness from one person to another. The presence of conscious persons, or of persons who are becoming conscious, in schools is relatively use­ less unless such persons are part of a total endeavor which emphasizes awareness. The quickest way to blunt the awareness of a conscious person is to require him to act in accordanco with programs that are based on illusion. Likewise, the surest method for preventing people from becoming conscious is to continually subject them to the demands of a program which places the premium on the un­ questioned acceptance of illusion as truth. Consciousness under these conditions is either irritated and twisted into a psychic disorder or discouraged and prevented from ever coming, into existence. The escapee, whose con- « sciousness is preserved, is rare. 261 * Reiteration.of The Basic Importance'of Consciousness In School Programs. Projects, and Strategies

Though it has been indicated that certain kinds of school programs warp existent consciousness and, in other cases, prevent evolution into consciousness, this investi­ gation is not conc.erned with the sorting of school programs into either a category of acceptability or a category of unacceptability. The only discrimination of school programs that lies within the boundaries of this investi­ gation is that which comes by way of a general pronounce­ ment against the existence of any school procedure or * or curriculum which undeniably thwarts self-observation, self-study, self-actualization, and, consequently, consciousness. In terms of enumeration, explication, and justification, neither those specific programs which thwart self—evolution nor those alternatives which provide for self-evolution will be given space in this investigation. There is an important reason for this decision which stems from one of the principal convictions which underlies this study. The reason is crucially linked to the conviction which avers that the acquisition of consciousness must bo a first consideration before man can fulfill programs, strategies, or projects which presuppose the possession of consciousness. 262 ' The foregoing statement implies a more subtle meaning than that which is conveyed through simple inter­ pretation. For example , it is one of the central beliefs of this study that educational programs, strategies and projects are too frequently poor and unsuccessful sub­ stitutes for consciousness. In so far as educational innovations are concerned, it is inadmissible that the innovations, themselves, are blameworthy because of apparent failure or praiseworthy because of evident success. If this seems an obvious observation, it is. Its obviousness, however, cannot be taken for granted without overlooking a rudimentary aspect: people are directly responsible for the creation and fulfillment of all educational programs, strategies, and projects. That idea, in and of itself, is not at all profound, but what is * engrossing to the mind is the realization that all people who create and who attempt to fulfill educational programs, strategies, and project's endeavor to do so on a specific level of consciousness. For this reason, causes deserve closer attention them effects. It is not, for example, the open classroom or the Free School which deserves first consideration; it is the levels of consciousness of those people who are responsible for actualizing the open classroom alternative and the Free * School movement which are of first importance.

» * * ' • f 263 In speaking about the concept of* Free School, Jonathan Kozol alludes to a passage from a book called The Storefront by Ned O'Gorman. The allusion to the passage evidently helps Mr. Kozol to support his thesis and to underscore certain prerequisite characteristics of a Free School*’ "This passage, brief and offhand as it seems, says a great deal of what I have been trying to t *express about the sense of consciousness, of permanent struggle, and of immediate, unmanipulated, honest activism Q within the- context of a Free School.” It is "the sense of consciousness" which precedes the other items on Kozol*s list of attributes necessary for the maintenance of the proper climate within a Free School. Herbert R. Kohl implies the need for consciousness when he says that "A teacher has to learn to go with the class, to respond to their desire to learn about things and not cut off their enthusiasm in the service of getting Q through the curriculum."^ Consciousness should precede, or at least accompany, that learning which will allow a teacher to "... go with the'class." Otherwise, a teacher who responds to students from a lower level of consciousness, regardless of the nature of the plan, is likely to replace understanding with manipulation.

Q Jonathan Kozol, Free Schools, (New Yorks 1972) , p. 64- ^Herbert Koll, The Open Classroom. (New York: 1969), P- 31 • 264 Tho pormcntion of consciousness must appertain to tho student milieu as well as to the staff who are legally responsible for students. Students are just as prone to exist on a lower level of consciousness as those teachers who are wrongly valued for having an awareness which, in actuality, they do not have. A passage from Jeffrey Schrank supports the opinion that most students do proceed on a lower level of consciousness. Before the presentation of that passage, it is important to recall a previous idea. It was indicated earlier in this study that authors oftentimes employ key words the meaning of which un­ equivocally suggest consciousness* Mr. Schrank uses the word •'know** for example, in such a way as to leave little doubt about its implication for consciousness; * Y/hat kids do 'know' is just as, if not more, dangerous than what they don't know. This is especially true if they have already been subjected, to six or more years of compulsory schooling. So running through this cookbook of ideas is the theme of 'unlearning.' Starvation is a cause of death to be pitied and fought but far more people die because of what they do eat than die of what they lack. The same is true of education. Ignorance may be more dramatic, but knowledge is just as dangerous.10 Among the numerous implications which the foregoing passage contains for consciousness, the most salient implication is synonymous with an interpretation of the

1 oJeffrey Schrank, Teaching Human Beings, (Boston: 1972), p. xii. 265 word "unleamingi" "To unlearn," in Schrank*s context, means to become conscious. For example, the child is not what he thinks he is. He does not know what he thinks he knows. Ironically, the emphasis is on those negative self—attributes.which a school forces a child to accept instead of those positive self-attributes which most people claim for themselves without engaging in the necessary works Some knowledge which a vast number of teens have learned and which desperately needs to be un­ learned iss I am not important; my feelings cannot be trusted and should be,controlled; I need permission to do things; adults usually know better; I am controlled by outside forces; I must hide my real self; learning is something others give to me; I must become what others want me toJ1 The preceding might be more aptly called "anti- knowledge" or "wrong knowledge" than simply "knowledge." Nevertheless, the implications for consciousness are strong, and the implications are evident if much of the content of chapter three of this study is recalled. For a person to presume to control the inner life of another person is a double error against consciousness. First, the presumptuous person is unquestionably acting from a lower level of consciousness. Second, the person who » is being controlled is also being deprived of an environ­ ment that is conducive to personal evolution toward

11Ibid. 266 consciousness. This does not mean that evolution toward * consciousness cannot exist in spite of nonconcurrent environments* It can, but why should barriers be left standing which impede positive self-growth? The "why” is no more or less than a matter of consciousness. Consciousness, or the lack of it, pervades all and every­ thing. That is why it is senseless to speak of the efficacy of one school program and of the uselessness of another. In any schooling project, program, strategy, or alternative there will be minimal efficacy and much uselessness until the builders and enforcers of educational cpnstructs accept and utilize a concept which underlies all human mutuality. That concept is environment. Environment and Consciousness

There is every reason to believe that environment is an influential condition which cuts across all educational endeavors. Two people cannot work together without generating an environment by which they will mutually affect ono another. Such affecting, however, requires additional explanation which will be given shortly. In the meantime, it is sufficient to understand that environment is often the primary contributor to successful educational experiences as well as the primary contributor to unsuccessful educational experiences. 267 It was mentioned in the preceding paragraph that environment cfreates an influence that cuts through or « ♦ across all educational endeavors* This thought couldi have profound impact on those people who think that educational success and failure are only dependent upon the imposition and enforcement of one kind Of curriculum or another* It is common sense, on the other hand, to accept one educa­ tional framework over another if the former allows for that which is growthful for human beings* Beyond that consideration, it is foolish to debate the merits and deficiencies of the traditional approach as compared with the merits and deficiencies of any innovative approach. Year after year, one educational brainstorm iB sub­ stituted for another. Philosophies shift, curricula are remolded or removed, disciplinary strategies are over­ hauled , teachers are rotrainod, now buildings arc constructed, and students are filed into one fashionable seating pattern or another. The end result of such manipulation is not human development; it is the perpetua­ tion of a configuration of mind which bypasses the actual world of causes* Therefore, this study is not concerned with the manipulation of effects. There is a direct effort in this chapter to avoid the encouragement of the manipulation of effects or wrong causes. For this reason, critiques of particular schooling and educational proposals 268 have been deliberately avoided. The faith of this chapter rests with the conviction that environment exerts an influence which far exceeds that influence which is the . result of half^-conscious adherence to any of tho various schooling strategics. Aside from the manipulation of physical objects, environment is regarded as being uncontrollable or non- s existent. On the contrary, the most influential aspects of environment are both as controllable and as existent as consciousness itself. For that matter, it is acceptable to align consciousness with the most influential aspects of environment. Ultimately, environment, as it will be presented in the following pages, can be understood to be simply another manifestation of consciousness. Inasmuch as consciousness can exist on specific levels, certain aspects of environment can also exist on correspondent levels. Deficiency in consciousness is a deficiency in v. environment. The dynamics of consciousness are immediately reflected in environment. If environment is neglected and fails, then consciousness is directly to blame. A failure of consciousness is strictly an individual matter, a personal result of personal evolution. The beginnings of self-observation, which can eventually lead to consciousness/might easily occur in any school if the concept of environment is closely and * 269 seriously examined from.the point of view of consciousness. Environment which is the result of consciousness will be as successful in a school which advocates open classrooms. The prerequisite for developing an environment in which students can begin to self-observe, to self-study, to acquire a higher level of consciousness, and to become complete human beings is not contingent on the color of the drapes and the style of the furniture. The necessary environment for self-development is one which is engendered by people who are already .conscious and by people who are working at evolving into consciousness. School environ­ ments fail to meet these requirements because they are, moire often than not, engendered by people who are on the sleep level of consciousness and who, as a relfection of their stat£ of consciousness, conceptualize environment to be that which is only constituted by physical objects. For an environment to come into existence which will reinforce students* efforts to become conscious, the present facsimiles of environments must be at least noticed as representing a lower level of consciousness. This is not a contradiction. It does not take conscious people to create an environment in which consciousness can develop. Many people who are not yet in possession of even self- consciousness are, nevertheless, sufficiently aware to become fully responsible for the creation of an environment in which their own evolution toward conscious­ ness as well as their student's evolution toward conscious­ ness can occur. There is an explicit mutuality in the creation of that environment which permits the completion of humanity through the acquisition of consciousness. The first step in creating an environment which will permit pcrnonn.1 evolution is to hocomo aware of the detriment to such evolution which constantly happens in an environ­ ment created from the arrangement of physical objects by people who are on the lower level of consciousness. To become aware, a person might begin to notice. To notice

* is the first prerequisite for change. Much of the failure of a typical school environment is unnoticed by administrators and teachers. It is the students who suffer the longest and the hardest. This is not to say that some few administrators and teachers have not felt similar sufferings. As a matter of fact, it is primarily this minority on whom the reformation of education mostly depends. Nevertheless, students are repeatedly compelled to tolerate an environment which kills, in a -deceptive, hypocritical manner, almost any possibility of self-actualization. Without Belf-actualization, which presupposes self—observation, self-study, and self-knowledge, the acquisition o£ a higher level of consciousness is quite impossible. Remedial consideration must be affordod the 271 concept of "environment” if prospects for the possibility of self-actualination in the schools are to brighten* Obviously then, a closer look at "environment” is necessary and apropos* • A theory of Ambi enc e

There is a considerable difference between the reality commonly associated with the term "environment” and the reality which is associated with the term "influence*” A brief explication of these different realities is necessary for a more complete knowledge of the difference between environment and influence* The reality commonly associated with the term "environment” is an object reality. That is, most people, so it seems, think only of objects as the contributors to the creation of any environment* The contention in this study insists that, influences, both from an object source and from a human source, are the creators of environment. To further differentiate the environment of objects from an environ— . ment of influences, the word "ambience" seems to be a more definitive term than "environment.” Ambience is suggestive of atmosphere, and man must always exist in an atmosphere of some type. Influence creates an1 atmosphere, and an atmosphere is an ambience* . At best, in the last ten, years, a handful of people have sensed that physical objects, of a certain size, weight, and color, arranged in various patterns can arouse certain feelings and thoughts in the people who are subjected to such arranged patterns. The implication of this psychological fact has rarely been investigated and V developed to any.influential degree. For example, who > has stopped long enough to note that even those positive* effects occurring in human beings as the result of the ”successful” selection and placement of physical are barely minimal and are the outcome of substituting an object environment for a human environment. A human environment is comprised of human beings; but, that thought is dangerously simple. Just as a desirable physical environment is not created only by the random and careless location of objects, so the human environment is not just the simple, aggregate of human bodies as objects. In the arrangement of non-human objects attention is often paid to the aura of those objects. A person will not readily admit to hearing a chair speak; and yet, it is not infrequently that a person exclaims about how a certain chair makes him feel. Is it not the same when a person is confronted by another person? Person A may say of person B, ”He makes me sick!” or, on the contrary, ”He makes me feel beautiful.” when, actually, person B has not uttered a word and haB barely moved. How is it so? It seems aB if two things are . 273 happening at once. Though this appears to be true, it is not so much a matter to know that two things are happening at once, as it is a matter of perceiving and knowing the two natures of a single thing. The first perceivable nature of an object is its physicality. This is the aspect which man’s senses first encounter. The second nature of the object is what the object actually is. For example, the first nature of D. H. Lawrence’s Women in Love would take into account the book’s physical properties. It is a book containing a certain number of pages, a certain number of words, and a certain number of characters. The number of pages may vary from edition to edition, and the variablen nnnocifitod with book designing are also liable to change. A person might even choose to classify the attributes of this book a bit more specifically. How many monosyllabic words are in this book? How many symbols? Are there more short sentences in this book than long ones? These kinds of questions can be answered.. It is not a difficult task, but such answers only explain the first nature of the object. It can be said that the first nature of an object is describable. This means that language enables man to know the second nature of an object. On this level of apprehension, man either knows or he does not know. It is that simple. 274 To assert that man either knows or he does not know the second nature of an object is not to becloud this discussion with metaphysical cobwebs. Such an assertion is a matter of fact. To validate this, it is only necessary to return to the example of the book. After a relatively thorough classification of its physical characteristics, it is soon discoverable that language is of no use in determing what Women in Love is beyond its 4 physicality. It is not a foolish question to ask what it is beyond its physical attributes. Obviously it is something else; it has a second meaning: the meaning of inself. Almost any person who reads Women in Love

4 will know that the book has two natures. This is true of any book and of any other physical object. When man knows a book, he has experienced that book; and this he does not bother to try to put into words. He understands that there is no language that can help him say what he knows. Knowing is its own language. Concerning all of this, in what ways are chairs and people alike? For this present discussion they can be considered to bn al.iko in two wnyn: First, both ft chair and a man regarded only as physical objects are, neverthe­ less, capable of exerting an influence. This point does not suppose that a chair takes on animative characteristics or that man's receptivity is not paramount in actualizing the influence. Perhaps it would he more exact to say that the physical presence of a chair causes main to cause himself to be affected. In the end, it amounts to the same thing; the chair is a cause. Its first nature is a cause for man’s reaction. Second, both a chair and a man have a second nature in addition to their first nature, and this second nature is as equally capable of exerting an influence on a person as the first nature is capable of eliciting a response. The second nature of the chair * is its chaimess. It is the nature which goes beyond description and classification. It goes beyond all but knowing. Nevertheless, this second nature exerts a force which is every bit as influential as that force which is exerted by the first nature. Consequently, an environment which is dependent' on the patterned arrangement of physical objects is also an environment in which two influences are exerted simultaneously: namely, the first and the second natures of each object. The degree of re­ sponse that a person makes to either one or the other, nature depends upon that person’s receptivity. Not unlike the first nature of objects, human beings (can) pattern as objects a specific locality and exert an influence susceptible to man’s receptivity. At this level, human bodies are objects in much the same way and for much the same reason that chairs and tables are objects; 276 in either case, restriction is the primary characteristic of a thing at the object level or level of first nature. The confinement of physical, mental, or psychical motion is what is meant by restriction. It is obvious that by comparison, the restriction of non—human objects renders them nearly frozen. Even man is relatively frozen in his first nature. However, a man's body may be entirely still while his mind is quite in motion. In this case, man's second nature prevails and exerts an influence which is usually predominant over the influence exerted by his first nature. Prom the foregoing discussion, it is suggestive that a separation between the first and the second natures of any object. This is not true, and any suggestiveness in * * that direction is the consequence of a certain type of necessary explication which, by its method, has only examined each nature separately and not meant to imply a separation in actuality. On the contrary, both natures * ‘ of any one object exist simultaneously. Man may be more receptive to one nature of an object than he is to the other nature; one of the natures, itself, may predominate over its other nature, but there is no actual separation between the natures. The similarity between the first nature of any physical object and the physicality of man is the result of 277 restriction. It is when man's body, mind, and psyche are relatively still, that he most resfembles an object. It is when man's body, mind, or psyche is in considerable motion that he least resembles an object, and it is at that point ihrft man begins to contribute to the creation of an human environment. Man as an entity, can overcome * restriction to his object nature. He can will himself to do that. In this way, he eclipses three, less significant natures which create environment. First, he eclipses the first nature of objects; after he overcomes himself as an object, his meaning is more than an object. Second, ho eclipses the second nature of an object because ho in loos restricted than an object when it comes to generating the motion from which meaning comes. Third, man is able to bypass the first nature of his own object state in * favor of his second nature which lifts the restriction from bodily, mental and psychical motion. The implication is for a hierarchy of natures the degrees of which influences an environment. A sort of summarizing schematic, Exhibit A of Appendix, will serve an illustrative purpose most aptly. Three observable ideas on this schematic are particularly noteworthy: First, the hierarchical arrange­ ment from the first nature of the physical object to the second nature of a human being is also indicative of the ascending degree of the "specific entity's contribution to the creation of a human environment; Second, it is significant to note that the second nature of a physical object and the first nature of a human being are ex­ tremely similar# Particularly is this true when their contributions to the creation of a human environment arc compared# Third, it must be noted that the strongest contribution to the creation of a human environment comes from the second nature of a human being. It is a mistake to think that the second nature of a human being, once its body, mind, or psyche iB set into motion, will automatically contribute constructively to the creation of a human environment# Actually, the second nature of a human being can exude negative forces;1 and although the cause of such negative forces is a human being, the negative quality of the force counteracts the positive or constructive force that is an inherent aspect of the definition of a human environment# The teacher who commands the student to "stand in the comer" is exerting a second nature influence, but to what ultimate avail is it being exerted? Has the teacher helped the student to self-actualize? If self-actualization occurs within this teacher's domain, it will be in spite of, not because of, the exudation of negative forces# ' The teacher who tells 279 a student to "stand in the comer" is creating an anti- *■> human environmont humanly. That is , through his bodily, mental, and psychical motions, such a teacher is creating i . ' an environment not unlike the worst physical environment. There is little difference for a student between standing in a corner and sitting in a black, odoriferous room for the same period of time. Though there is a different complex of variables which yield particular effects in each case, nevertheless, the end result of blackness, insecurity, alienation, and indignity are peculiar in either case. It is to the nature of light rather than darkness that the focus of this study turns next. A kind of light is generated by human beings. For thin rnnnon, nvioh light may bn termed "human light." I The principal characteristic of a human environment is human light, and the main characteristic of human light is positive or. constructive force. Man possesses the ability to choose to generate human light in a human environment. In other words, man possesses the ability to choose to create a human environment. It iB the implicit contention of this study that without a human environment in the schools, self-observation, self-study, self-knowledge, and self-actualization are nearly im­ possible or, at best, minimal. In addition, since the acquisition of a higher level of consciousness is dependent on self-study and self-actualization, and 280 environment which devaluates "self,” is also an environment which precludes the acquisition of* higher consciousness. It is possible for a person to self—study and to self— k k ' actualize under the influences of the first three en­ vironments listed on the schematic. In a typical school circumstance,‘however, teachers most often exert their influence from their second natures; and, too frequently, the characteristic result of their exertions is blackness instead of human light. Because it is common for teachers to put themselves in motion and to generate blackness, it is more immediate and more valuable to speak about the second nature of a human being and the choice to generate blackness rather than human light. Part of the cause of the generation of blackness is tradition. It is an accepted part of the past history of American education to regard the student as the oppressed and to regard the teacher as the oppressor. Such acknowledgement does not often alarm people; it simply becomes interalized and accepted as a part of "things as they are supposed to be.*1 Currently, though, the impetus of oppressed voices arid the sound of sympathizers of the oppressed are flowing together to make a disturbingly high screech in modem society. 37he result off this sound is another kind of confusion, and the result of the confusion is a loathsome contradiction. 2 8 1 Two aspects causing this- confusion can be examined* First, people in administrative, educational positions, strategic in so far as exercising dominance and * * , ' ■ , oppression, are, themselves, beginning to feel pressure from coalesced numbers of the oppressed. The plan which these administrators have designed for themselves, in order 4 to escape this pressure, is hypocritical. That is, such administrators appear to liberate the oppressed when in actuality, the appearance of liberation is just one more reinforcement for the machination of oppression. If the actions and intents of those kinds of administrators wore translated into a verbal expression, it would say some­ thing akin to "let it appear that the oppressed are being . • liberated, but for God's sake, don't let it happen." The result of this kind of duplicity is both a contradiction in actuality and a confusion for the teachers who are assigned to enforce the contradiction. The second aspect, then, causing the ultimate confusion which leads to a loathsome contradiction is the teacher's unauthenticity. A teacher who, through deliberate intention, looks as if he is authentic and who, also through deliberate intention, in actuality, remains unauthentic is ultimately a lie incarnate. How can this kind of person exact human light from his second nature if such an exertion requires the same expenditure of motion 282 from mind, body, and psyche that is used for the main­ tenance of the contradiction? The exertion of blackness has traditionally become the sine qua mon for enforcing the contradiction; An unauthentic human being is less successful as a creator of an environment in which self- actualization can occur than the first nature of an object* Before the contradiction and confusion can be dispelled, both administrators and teachers must, together as well as independent of one another, recognize the immediate q and ultimate value of self-actualization. Hopefully, and more likely than not, once enouch teachers and administrators begin to "know" what self-actualization means, then, and only then, will a slow dissolution of the confusion and contradiction occur. If this "knowing*' or recognition does not occur, to some degree, in the teachers and administrators, then any transformation of the schools, for which they can be considered to be the responsible agents, will be* conceived of as well as enacted from a lower level of<* consciousness and will create a second r' nature environment in which such people exert blackness. * This blackness will not allow students to self-actualize; its purpose is to perpetuate the contradiction. It is only within the human ambience filled with human light that it is fully possible to allow students to self-actualize and to allow oneself to care for the child, that is, enjoy him and his growth and self-actualization. 283 Necessary Conditions Within An Ambience

Assuming the existence of a human ambience filled with human light, it is, then, sequentially logical to examine those conditions which must be operative within the ambience before full development of the human being can occur. Again, it is necessary to turn to the writing of Ouspensky who speaks about the conditions necessary for development: The first of these conditions is that man must understand his position, his difficulties, and his possibilities, and must have either a very strong desire to get out of his present state or have.a very great interest for the new. for the unknown state which must come wi-fch the change. Speaking shortly, he must he either very strongly repelled by his present state or very strongly attracted by the future state that may be attained. Further, one must have a certain preparation. A man must be able to understand what he is told. Also, he must be in right conditions externally; he must have sufficient free time for study and must live in circumstances which make study possible. It is impossible to enumerate all the conditions which are necessary. But they include among other things a school. And school implies such social and political conditions in the given country in which a school can exist, because a school cannot exist in any conditions; and a more or less ordered life and a certain level of culture and personal freedom are necessary for the existence of a Bchool.12

12Ouspensky, Possible Evolution, p. 63-64* 284 The foregoing quotation deserves a brief explication beginning with the word "school**1 To Ouspensky, the idea of "school" is an integral part of his total system for man's possible evolution, and even though a concept of school in that sense is not wholly compatible with the concept of school as it must be regarded in this study, Ousponsky's ideas are still pertinent* For example, the idea that man must have "•*. a very strong desire to get out of his present state*.•" is a concept that can be made compatible with classroom procedures* In creating and working within a human ambience, it is a teacher's responsibility to encourage students to quest ".*. if or ttye new, for the unknown state which must come with the change*" Furthermore, those "*.. right conditions externally..." are the internally indispensible conditions of a human ambience filled with human light. "Personal freedom" which must, of course include "... free time for study*.."is an indispensable feature of an educational effort which allows for the acquisition of consciousness. Particular social conditions must exist before a school based on Ouspensky's ideas and teachings is possible* For example, Ouspensky says that "••• ho school could exist in Bolshevik Russia, or in Hitler's Germany, or in Mussolini's Italy, or in Kemal's Turkey." J Although one

13Ibid., p. 64* 285 of the intentions of this study is to introduce certain of Ouspensky*s ideas iyito the area of education and not to adopt his entire developmental program, which takes the form of special schools, it is nonetheless important that social conditions he complementary. It is immediately obvious what difficulties arise when a school which stresses consciousness appears in a society in which con­ sciousness is viewed as a threat. There are few societies which escape this contradiction. M o d e m America is no exception. The majority of American schools attest to this point; they teeter on the edge of constant hypocracy. Such schools display the look of freedom to cover an intricate system of oppression. The only freedom lies in the existence of the edge, but an edge is not enough. A Relevant Digression on Society And School

Perhaps the most vivid statement concerning the complimentarity between schools and society has come from ! John Holt who claims that it is a contradiction to expect good schools to exist in a bad society. Holt finds an underlying commonality between the existence of a good school and the existence of a good society which parallels the advocation of this study that the acquisition of consciousness will allow man to knowingly create institu­ tions which will provide for the total human welfares 286 To put'this a bit differently, I do not think we can treat as separate the quality of education in a society and the quality of life in general. Many free school people say this, said it before I did, but I suspect we may mean something quite different. I think they are saying that only in a good society can we have good education, by which they mean good schools, because in a bad society the powers that b e , will not allow good schools. What I am saying goes much further than that. I am saying that truly good education in a bad society is a contradiction in terms. In short, in a society that is absurd, unworkable, wasteful, destructive, secretive, coercive, monopolistic, and generally anti-human, we could never have good education, no matter what kind of schools the powers that be might permit, because it is not the educators of the schools but the whole society and the quality of life in it that really educate. This means that whatever we do to improve the quality of life, for anyone, and in whatever part of his life, to that degree improves education."■ 4 Two of the latter comments from this quotation lend further support to contentions which have been previously examined in this investigation. First, Holt's opinion that "... we could never have good education..." because "... not the educators of the schools, but the whole society and the quality of life in it..." is that which really educates is an idea directly supportive of the view that attention should be given to the underlying cause of educational and social failure instead of to the engenderment of innovations which only hide the cause.

^John Holt, "Truly Good Education in a Bad Society Is a Contradiction in Terms..•," New School Exchange. Number 60, p. 20. 287 Second, Holt*s enumeration of the means by which the improvement of life and, consequently, the improvement of education can occur includes looking, asking, thinking, choosing, and acting. At a later point, Holt discloses that ”... what men need above all else is a society in which they are to the greatest possible degree free and encouraged to look, ask, think, choose, and act.” 3 This, then, would mean ".•• that whatever we do to improve the quality of life...” must include emphasis on looking, asking, thinking, choosing, and acting. The similarity is distinct between those qualities which Holt recommends for the improvement of the quality of life and those qualities which Ouspensky associates with consciousness. Consequently, it is possible to jassert syllogistically that consciousness is the means for improving the quality of life. Another corroborator for the contention that change in schools and change in society are inseparable is Jeffrey Schrank. His ideas in the following passage are relatable to the immediate classroom situation in that they indicate the direction in which a teacher should move in 9 order to create and to maintain a human ambience filled with human light: *

1 288 It is impossible to separate change in the schools from change in society* Educational critics and radical reformers are asking schools to become agents of change instead of preservers of the status quo* They are asking schools to change, the culture; they are hot asking schools to do a better job within the existing culture* If that can be done, I donft know. What I do know .is that there are, teachers and group leaders out there fully capable of enabling people, some­ times called students, to help themselves grow and learn* They have learned that the river can9t be pushed, that love and caring are more important than any grade or degree, and that even schools can be places of growth* For teachers to learn "••• that love and caring are more important than any grade or degree*•*N requires maximum awareness* For teachers to actualize a classroom ambience in which *'• *. love and caring are more important than any grade or degree*requires, at least, the beginnings of consciousness* Additional Conditions Necessary Within an Ambience

The thoughts on the last several pages have been digressive in that they have interrupted a discussion of those conditions which are necessary within a human ambience if the acquisition of consciousness is to occur* From another point of view, however, the digression iB useful* This is true for two reasons* First, it emphasizes the extreme importance of the mutuality between 16 Schrank. Teaching Human Beings, p* xii-xiii* .

i 289 school and society* Second, it prepares the way for the acceptance of the theory of synergy which will be presented several pages hence* For the present, it is relevant to proceed with a discussion of those conditions which must exist within a human ambience if growth toward conscious­ ness is to occur* In reference to a line from a previous quotation from Ouspensky, it was stated that one of a teacher9s responsibilities is to encourage students to quest *'••• for the new-, for the unknown state which must come with the change*n In other words, it is the teacher9s respon­ sibility to create an influence that will encourage students to want to become conscious* From this idea it is easy to generalize about the. kinds of influences which are necessary in a human ambience* Influences are, yet, another condition which must exist within a human ambience* Even though there are three major influences, Ouspensky designates only two as being primary* He says that man lives mostly under two kinds of influences: The first kind consists of interests and attractions created by life itself; interests of one9s health, safety, wealth, pleasures, amusements, security, vanity, pride, fame, etc* The second kind consists of interests of a different order aroused by ideas which are not created in life but come originally from schools* These influences do not reach man 290 directly* They are thrown into the general turnover of life, pass through many different minds and reach a man through philosophy, science, religion, and art, always mixed with influences of the first kind and generally very little resembling what they were in their beginning* 17 Ouspensky goes on to say that most ment do not recognize "••• the different origin of the influences of the. second kind and often* explain them as having the same origin as the first kind* Even though man does not know the origin which lies behind each of the kinds of influences, he responds to the influence, nevertheless* Man’s identification with these influences is not equal* He may be strongly compelled to react to the first kind of influence and not compelled at all to react to the second kind of influence* "Or he can be attracted and affected by one or another of the influences of the 18 second kind* The result is different in each case*** Actually, the result is indicative of whether or not a man will self-develop or remain as he is* Ouspensky says that the first kind of influence, which he calls Influence A, is less consequential in causing man to self-develop than the second kind of influence, which he callB 9 influence Bs If a man is fully in the power of influence A, or of one particular influence

^Ouspensky, Possible Evolution, p* 66* 18Ibid., p. 67. 291 A, and quite indifferent to influence B, nothing happens to him, and his possibility of development diminishes with every year of his life; and at a certain age, sometimes quite an early age, it disappears completely* This means that man dies while physically remaining still alive, like grain that cannot germinate and produce a plant* But if. on the other hand, man is not completely in the power of influence A, and if influence B attract him and make him feel and think, results of the impressions they produce in him collect together, attract other influences of the same kind, and grow, occupying a more important place in his mind and life*19 In a human ambience which allows for the development of consciousness, it is one of the teacher9s responsibility to provide a source for the kind of influence characterized by influence B* Ideally, the teacher, himself, should be an example of influence B* A direct result of sufficiently strong attraction to influence B is the formation of a magnetic center* For the outset, Ouspensky warns against confusing this center with intellectual, moving, instinctive, or emotional o centers* nIt must be understood at once that the word 9center* in this case does not mean the same thing as the 9intellectual9 or the 9inoving9 center; that is, 20 centers in the essence*1* The magnetic center is in personaltiy and it is **••• simply a group of interests

l9Ibid* 20Ibid., p. 67-68* i 292 which, when they become sufficiently strong, serve, to a 21 certain degree, as a guiding and controlling factor." The importance of the magnetic center is that it "... turns one*8 interests in a certain direction and helps to keep 22 them there." The magnetic center is indispensable for directing man away from indifference and toward a desire to change his level of being and, consequently, his level of consciousness. Enough of influence B in a classroom »■ can cause a student to want to become conscious, and a sufficiently strong influence B can create a magnetic center which will guide the student in the unequovlcal direction of consciousness. Additional conditions which constitute the interior of a human ambience take the forms of specific kinds of » work. Ouspensky calls these kinds of work "lines." The lines of work rauBt proceed simultaneously. "One line of work, or two lines of work, cannot be called real 'school work."23 The difference between Ouspensky*s definition of the word "school" and that definition which describes almost all public and private educational undertakings has already been discussed in this chapter. In speaking about "lines," however, the difference should be thought

______t______

■ t * 21Ibid.. p. 68. 22Ibid. 23Ibid. . p. 70. 0

293 ’ of as being nonexistent* The lines of work which are indigenous to OuspenBky’s particular school should be an integral part of any classroom* Ouspensky designates three lines of work: 4m The first line is study of oneself and study of the system y or the * language *• Working on this line, one certainly works for oneself* The second line is work with other people in the school , and working with them one works not only with them but for them* So in the second line one learns to work with people and for people* This is why the second line is particularly difficult for some people* In the third line, one works for the school* In order to work for the schooi, one must first understand the work of the school, understand its aims and needs* And this requires time unless one is really well prepared, because some people can begin with the third line, or in any case find it very easily*24 It is extremely necessary that all three lines of work be pursued simultaneously* The simultaeity creates a sort, of operation of counterchecks which keeps a man from falling asleep when he is suppose to be trying to over­ come his mechanicalness: Even now you can understand the chief reason of the necessity of three lines of work if you realise that man is asleep, and whatever work! he. starts, he soon loses interest in it and continues mechanically* Three lines of work are necessary, first of all, because one line awakes i

24Ibid* . p. 66 * 294 a nan who falls asleep over another line* If one really works on three lines, one can never fall asleep completely; in any case one cannot sleep as happily as before; one will always awake and realize that one's work has stopped.23 . The interlocking effect of studying by these lines of work is unavoidable if people talk together , work together , and become useful to the school. "So it means that working in the first line, people study the second line, and working in the second line, they study the og third line." In this way, students share interests. They share the interests of one another and they share the interests of the school. Furthermore, the school shares their interests. The result of such unification is a completeness which suggests the interconnection of parts to make a whole, and such a wholeness has imich more cosmic significance than the fragmentary separateness to which current educational efforts are predisposed. Relatedness of Finite Entities to One Another And to The Infinite

i One of the signs of an awakening consciousness is the ability to perceive the relatedness among finite entities. Progressively, consciousness should become encompassing enough to perceive relationships between 1 finite entities and the infinite. The ultimate

25Xbid.. p. 71-72. 26Ibid., p. 71. • • I

I 295 consciousness is that which perceives all, knows all, and understand all. This is objective consciousness or cosmic consciousness. Perhaps the most obvious and practical apprpach that a person can take to change his perception in accordance with cosmic vision is to try to begin to see the interrelatedness among finite entities. Man should reject his blindness for a vision by which he can clearly perceive the-mutual complementarity of the individual and society of which the school is an institutional reflection. Frank Goble is a writer who affirms the existence of a realtionship between the individual and society. To support his affirmation, he cites a passage from the work of Abraham Mas low. The quote is re-quoted here to lend similar support to a similar affirmation: We can now rejeot, as a localism, the almost universal mistake that the. interests of the individual and of society are of necessity mutually exclusive and antagonistic, or that civilization is primarily a mechanism for controlling and policing human instinctoid impulses. All these age-old axions are swept away by the new possibility of defining the main function of a healthy culture as the fostering of universal self-actualization.27 It is both a logical and a necessary step to proceed from the affixmation of the idea of the mutual comple­ mentarity, between the Individual and society to a discussion of the concept of synergy.

2^Frank Goble, The Third Force.(New York* 1971) » p. 111. ““ Synergy

The word and the idea which Ruth Benedict, and subsequently, Abraham Maslow, used to describe mutual advantage is "synergy*" Frank Coble, who has expertly condensed the ideas of Abraham Maslow says "Dr* Maslow got the word and the idea for the synergic society from Ruth Benedict (1887-1948), a professor of antropology at Columbia University, who gave Maslow her notes from a series of lectures she delivered at Bryn Mawr College in 28 1941*" Ruth Benedict was displeased with the concept of cultural relativity* "She struggled to develop a way t of comparing various societies as a unitary whole, or., in 20th Century terms, as a system."29 After trying and, then, abandoning a number of approaches, "She finally decided that the basic differences were in what she oalled the function of behavior, rather than the actual behavior itself• In other words, it was not how they behaved so much as why they behaved that w a y . " 3^ Ruth Benedict noted that suicide means different things in different cultures* For example, in Japan, it was an honorable act* In America, it signified an inability to cope* Finally, she decided that two kinds of soolety exists

28Ibid* 29Ibid* 30Ibld*. p. 112. The terms that Ruth Benedict finally choose to describe the two types of societies were *high synergy* and ’low synergy* • The high synergy societies were those where people cooperated together for mutual advantagef not necessarily because they were unselfish, but because the customs of society made cooperation worthwhile* In her words, * Societies where non-aggression is conspicuous, have social orders in which the individual, by the same act and at the same time,

serves his own advantage and that of the group*••« * Non-aggression occurs, not because people are unselfish and put social obligation above personal desires, but when social arrangements make these two identical ••*• Their institutions,* insure mutual advantage from their undertakings* Dr. Maslow, who had discussed the subject of synergy with Ruth Benedict, adopted her viewpoint and, eventually, incorporated it into his own work* The idea of Bynergy fit "••• perfectly into Dr* Maslow*s conception of a scientific basis in human nature for right and wrong behavior*1,32 Dr* Maslow found the definition of good and bad societies to be merely an extension of his concept of the scientific basis of human behaviprs The synergy concept can also be applied to individual behavior* When two individuals arrange their relationship in such a way that one person* s advantage is the other person* s advantage also, the arrangement is synergic; when one person*s advantage is another person's-, disadvantage, the arrangement is anti-synergic• The ideas of: Ruth Benedict left an ineradicable impression on Dr* Maslow* After her death, he continued

31Ibid* 32Ibid* * p. 114. 33Ibid: 298 to investigate the concept of Bynergy* His writings reveal specific, feelings about American society* He feels that American society is one of mixed synergy* He says that there is a disceraable amount of generosity in America, but he also says that there are institutions in America which set people against one another* ’He cites the simple example, of the grading system used in most colleges, which makes one man's gain another man's loss* Hr* Maslow's ultimate feeling concerning synergy and society is that society **••• can be synergic with human nature, or it can be antagonistic to it*"34 following passage is acceptable as further support for the need for. a human ambience as well as support for the idea of the mutual c&nplementarily between the individual and society: The synergic society, or what Maslow in his later works referred to as the Bupsychian society, is a society which creates an environment where people can develop their potential and satisfy their innate psychological needs* The good society is one which is fulfilling and makes self-actualization possible* 'A healthy society would be one which fulfills the most potentialities of the greatest number of men*' Maslow flatly rejects the idea that the interests of the individual and his society are necessarily mutually exclusive and antagonistic* This is a basic premise of Freudian theory* Maslow envisions a society with psychologically. healthy people where there will be less crime, less mental illness, less need for restrictive i 299 . legislation* Such a society 9 rather than protecting;itself from people's instincts, as Freud saw it, would encourage the strengthening of instincts and would encourage people to develop their potential for love, cooperation, achievement, and growth*35

The concept of synergy is a legitimate point of view from which a person can estimate the degree of unity of .both finite and infinite entities* Man's ability to understand the unity of an entity is dependent of varying degrees of consciousness* Understanding finite unity requires a lesser degree of consciousness than under­ standing the infinite unity of the cosmoses* A person must study himself and understand himself before he can hope to understand entities of which he is only a small part* Understanding and Knowing

The concept of understanding deserves closer attention* It is not enough for a person to assume that * he understands if he does not even know what understanding

What is understanding? I Try to ask yourself this question and you will isee that you cannot answer it* You have always confused understanding with knowing or having information* Hut to know and to under­ stand are two quite different things, and you must learn to distinguish between them*

35Ibid., p. 114-115. 300 • i _ In order to understand a thing , you must see its connection with some bigger subject , or bigger wjtiole. and the possible consequences of this connection* Understanding is always the understanding of a smaller problem in relation to a bigger p r o b l e m * 36

Understanding, then, is neither the same as knowing nor the same as consciousness* If9 however, alignments wore to be made, then it would be possible to see a similarity between consciousness and understanding before it would be possible to see a similarity between con­ sciousness and knowing or between knowing and understanding* The similarity between understanding and consciousness occurs for at least two reasons* First, only the person, himself, can know if he is conscious and if he understands* Second, both consciousness and understanding are ineffable* To know is to have knowledge or information which can be talked about, that is, put into language and passed along to someone else* On the other hand, it is impossible, as well as a contradiction in terms, for a person to think that he can successfully transfer any of his consciousness * * and understanding to another person* Consciousness and understanding are nontransferable* They are limited to the person .who acquires them* That is why self-work is necessary for the acquisition of both consciousness and i understanding* They are not the same thing; they are only

^Ouspensky, Possible Evolution, p* 99-100*

i ■ . - * / ; 1

( • . 301 ’ similar and mutually confluent* The acquisition of each requires inordinate desire and extreme self-discipline* There is no other way* ; Psycho-Synergic Unity

The inner unity which evolves in a person as a result of self-study might be called a psycho-Bynergic unity* The man who tries to gain control of his mechanioalness is seeking a unification of the four centers within him­ self* He is trying to establish a synergic society within himself • The result of the establishment of . such a society within himself would be the acquisition of a level of consciousness that would allow him to understand the need for the establishment of a similar kind of synergic society outside himself in the physical world* The change toward a synergic society must begin within people* It cannot begin in the mythical assumption that society'has a mind independent of the people who form the society* It is true that after a point 9 it is. possible for the institutions of a; society to encourage individual men to seek inner unity 9 self-actualization, and conscibusness9 but the institutions of a society cannot begin to do this honestly until- those people who i. represent the institutions begin to awaken themselves* Mutuality cannot be one-sided and still be mutuality 9 and synergy is a conoept of mutuality* 302 The Place of Schools oh the Continuum of Relatedness

Schools have oftentimes been described as miniature societies. In that schools reflect many of the organized patterns of a larger society9 that description is accurate* More noteworthy, however, is the View that schools are one of the constituents of a larger entity, society, in much the same way that the individual is a constituent of the larger entity, school* Such inner-relatedness can be .. traced either downward to microscopic entities or outward toward cosmic entities* Any entity may be viewed as being interrelated to that entity which exists immediately downward or outward from it* For example, entity B is related to entity A on the one side end entity C on the other side* .A man*a viewpoint of entities does not have to progress sequentially* It is possible for a man to view entity C and to understand automatically the related­ ness of entity C to entities A and B as well as entity C's relatedness to entity D* Such relatedness occurs from the microscopic to the infinite* All entities are interrelated i the interrelatedness of entities creates the All, and the

i i All can bej experienced only through consciousness* * i Every one of the entities on the continuxn of relatedness, which is dependent on man, is capable of ■ . • synergic development* For the purposes of this study, 303 that comment is meant to insinuate the entities of the individual and the school and, to a lesser degree, to insinuate the entity of society* If man is to become conscious and to become valuable to his society for having become conscious, then society must become an entity which values consciousness* If society is ever, to reach the evolved position of valuing its conscious people, then, ! there must, first of all, be conscious people* Such mutuality can occur simultaneously only after it is given impetus by enough individual men* Synergy is a mutual advantageousness between the individual and society which must begin in the individual* With only minor shift in emphasis, a number of the comments in the foregoing paragraph can be shown to apply to the relationship between the individual and the Bchool* For example , if an individual is to become conscious within the confines of a school and to become valuable to his school for having become conscious, then school muBt beoomo on entity wherein consciousness is valued* Furthermore, if schools are ever to reach a position of valuing its conscious people, then, again, there must first of all be consoious people* Synergy in a school vt means mutual advantageousness between the individual and the school, but just as in the case of the individual ■ r . and society, mutual advantageouBness between the individual and the school can only begin after consciousness has begun to* be acquired by the individual. The creation of a school in which the premium is on consciousness must begin with emphasis. on a human ambience filled with human light* Within the ambience, it is necessary to adhere to specific conditions* These conditions were previously discussed and were shown to be an indispensible means for acquiring consciousness* At thiB point, having concentrated primarily on the ac- quisition of consciousness, it seems relevant to focus closer on that which may be accomplished in terms of specific content within a classroom ambience where necessary conditions have become operative* The specific content area which will be given this kind of attention is the area of language Arts* Before this can be done, it is essential to make preparatory comments about the learning process' itself* Two Viewpoints of the Learning Process

Regarding the learning process, there currently appears to be two extremely different points of view* One viewpoint is many years old, but, nevertheless, it continues to be the viewpoint which is adopted by the majority of people who are associated with education* This viewpoint regards education and sohooling as 305 synonymous. In fact, people who adhere to this viewpoint assume that the inevitable result of schooling is education. For that reason, education is relegated to the position of least attention while concepts of schooling and of schooling i techniques are given maximum attention. People who sub­ scribe to this viewpoint are supporters of an approach to learning which has become known as "Survival schooling. ** Survival schooling cripples a student by confining him to what he knows. It shackles his mind to the past. W. B. Wees gives a most accurate description of survival schooling: Survival schooling, extended as a descriptive term from primitive to modem education, is a name that we may now apply t o ‘ that practice of education which undertakes to force upon each new generation only what the old ones know, to keep it in the grip of the same time. Perhaps this was all right for the Eskimos before the White man came. Perhaps it was all right when I was a boy. But is the type of schooling that shackles the future to the past ever all right? It becomes more and more evident that each generation must explore and* •learn* a new environment. But each generation doesn't. Packed into the containers that we call schools the youngsters just sit and con that pile of particles of inert knowledge that the teacher's tongue showers out, hoping that they can keep the knowledge in their heads at least until test time, Then because the knowledge is of so little use to them they ^promptly forget it. Alfred North » - Y/hitehead says that the inert knowledge of the classroom doesn't keep any better than fish.37

3?W. R. Wees, Nobody Can Teach Anybody Anything. p. 12-13. V 306 The description of procedures in the preceding quotation accurately depicts an approach to education which has come to be known as the traditional approach* The underlying fallacy of the traditional approach to education is based on the wrong idea about how learning actually occurs* Traditionalists believe that it is physiologically possible to transfer knowledge from one person9 s head to another* It is not important that traditionalists do not openly profess or admit this physiological belief* Their admission comes by way of their practice* Traditional methodology proceeds on the assumption that a teacher does the learning for his students* .. The other point of view regards learning’ from a nearly opposite position* This viewpoint contends that it is not possible to teach anyone anything* Carl Rogers and W* R. Wees are two writers 9 among many, who espouse this contention* Perhaps the one most difficult realiza­ tion which separates the traditionalists from this con­ trary viewpoint is the fact that "••• whatever the child learns he learns on his own*M^ Traditionalists assume that they teach; adherents of the opposite viewpoint know betters The teacher may think that he is teaching him when he telle* the child thus and so* but 'j w

38Ibid.. p. 73, 307 all that he is really doing is making vibrations in the air .with his breath, vocal cords, pharynx, tongue, nose, teeth, and lips - all the physical and physiological paraphernalia with which man makes sounds and variations of sounds* Whatever change occurs in the child's mind (any change that we may call educational) occurs only because the child himself makes it happen* Even the tell-and-listen kind of teaching of which we have had such an overdose for so many centuries can occasionally be effective, but only because the child makes it so* And he makes it so only because by himself and for himself he makes a meaningful experience of the end product of the series of physical phenomena that begin when the sound waves are caught in the shell of the child's ear* The same thing happens if and when the child learns from a textbook* Thinking is the child's own intimate perogative; nobody else in the world can do his thinking for him* Even in the perception of such basic components of thought as those provided by the senses, the meaning of the sense experience is the child's own creation*39 The preceding passage has been quoted in its entirity because it offers one of the clearest statements yet written in denouncement of that assumption about learning which underlies traditionalist philosophy and traditionalist methodology in the field of education* The thrust of the denouncement derives from an under­ standing of psychology and physics in their most rudimentary application to mental phenomena^ For example, one person cannot enter the head of another person except by the process of surgery, and certainly no surgeon has ever performed an operation with the intention of

39Ibid. 308 transplanting knowledge. This example seemB to be absurd, and yet it is the basic assumption, that the transplantation of knowledge is possible, which forms the foundational a* logic of almost all traditional efforts in the area of education. 4 * i The second viewpoint of learning is more favored in this investigation than the first viewpoint. The reason for this favoritism lieB in the belief that it is easier to create a human ambience filled with human light where and when the second viewpoint prevails than it is to create a similar ambience amidst traditionalist restrictionism. It is possible to create a human ambience filled with human light where and when traditionalism prevails, but under the pressures of traditionalist strictures, such an ambience would fare about as well as a house of cards in a strong wind. Even though it is possible to create an ambience filled with human light in a traditional school, the operativeness of such an ambience in such a school would be minimal. The possibility of the engenderment of consciousness is the first and most important responsibility of a school and of a society after basic needs are fulfilled. A human ambience filled with?human light can occur under almost any oiroumatanoasl' but suoh as ambienoo can reaoh its fullest operativenesa only amidst conditions which are, again, mutually complementary* It is a belief held in this investigation that any schooling alternative, strategy, or program which adheres to the second viewpoint of learning can offer the mutual complementarity necessary for the fullest operativeness of a human ambience filled with human light* A final comment from W. R* Wees will clarify the definition of the kind of education which results when the second viewpoint is incorporated into schooling procedures: The new definition that education seems to be working toward is not really new: it is at least as old as Socrates, who said that as a teacher he was but a midwife at the birth of an idea* It's new only in the sense that we are at last catching on to the fact that the child is going to make himself his own man anyway* And a good thing, too* If it were . not so , man would still be using the walls of caves as the only medium upon which to depict his culture* The new meaning and practices of education are-based upon the assumption that 'The mind is what it is by virtue of making all things*' Applying this assumption to the education of ohildren, 'all things* that the mind makes fall into two categories; (a) The child makes himself; (b) The child makes his w o r l d . 40 This investigation is in total agreement with Wees* idea .that "Each person creates his own world Inside himself and outside himself*.*w4^ and that **••• each .one reads

40Ibid* , p. 99-100. 41Ibid*. p* 101. 310* into the world his experience of it."42 The mind of each person is the cause of each person*s world* "To make a thing is to create a form, and to create a form is to perceive relationships among things, ideas, concepts^ and put them together to make new forms* *As the hand is the tool of tools, so the mind is the form of foxmB*'"43 Man's power to think iB equal to man's power to create forms and, consequently, to create his world* For this reason, it is a teacher's responsibility to nurture the power of thought in himself and in his students* "To nurture" is an apt infinitive beoause it suggests facilitation instead of occupation* That is, a teacher cannot reside within the heads of his students and cannot, therefore, form thoughts and relationships within the headB of his students* A teacher's occupancy of a* student's mind can only be informative; it cannot be formative* A student must cause his pwn formation of thought, his own perception of relationships, his own self- ♦ * knowledge, and his own consciousness* "Nobody can perceive and form ideas and concepts for anyone else, which is what Carl Rogers meant when he said that nobody can teach 44- anybody else;"^

42Ibid. 43Ibid* 44Ibid., p. 107. V

3 11 From this conclusion it would seem that teaching is a futile effort. That is not the case if teaching is defined as the nurturing of the power of thought. Man *s power to think has increased enormously because of his increased language fluency, and his increased lan­ guage fluence has developed entirely sequentially: In the first place, he had tagged each idea with a label and thus could find and identify it quickly. In the second place, he had classified ideas into classes that we call concepts and had tagged his concepts with word labels, too. Thus, when he was thinking about something, creating a new relationship, a new form, all he had to do was to assemble the right labels and he had it. At the conceptual level of language (because each concept word might represent a million human experiences) , the number of new forms that man can make approach infinity. ' Then came the second step in symbolization, the provision of alphabetical symbols to stand for oral symbols. By this means man extended his thinking to defeat both time and. space. But he did more: He made it possible for the thinker to clarify his thinking. Speech* after all, is only vibrant air, and the thinking in it can be lost with the turn of the wind. In the written word, thought can be clarified, purified; and it ensures.45 11, Before suggestions are made for the organization of a Language Arts content area, it is important to recapitu­ late various assumptions and their corollaries in a few sentences. To begin, it is essential to understand that the mind is the primary creative force of man.

45Ibid.. p. 103-104. t

312' The mind orders and arranges "... its perceptions, ideas9 and concepts to oreate form within itself and in its world."4^ The process of creating form is called thought, and language is the symbolism that man has invented "... to accelerate9 clarify9 and communicate..."47 his thought. There are 'three basic ideas that are derivable from these recaptitulative comments. First, since the mind uses its own creative force to form thought 9 nobody can do a child*s thinking for him. Second 9 thinking is9 or should be, the center of gravity for all educational and schooling efforts because thinking creates form from perceptions9 ideas, and concepts. Third, language is the most significant aid that man has to help him to think. For these reasons it is desirable to introduce suggestions for the creation of a Language Arts content area that will free the student to do his own thinking and that will value the thinking which the student does. Suggestions For the Creation of ■ a Language Arts Content Area

The suggestions which will be made for the creation of a Language Arts content area are arbitrarily, but conveniently divided into three categories. The first.. category is simply a brief collection of preliminary ideas

, 46lbid. . p. 104. 47Ibid. 3 1 3 which, altogether, express an opinion about the approach to freedom which would facilitate thinking and learning in a Language* ArtB content area* The second category presents a discussion of the five domains to which thought can • i apply itself in relation to Language Arts* In the third category, Ouspensky's table of the four forms of the manifestation of consciousness is introduced as a source for a nucleus in a Language Arts content area which has as one of its primary aims the provision of an ambience in which a student can begin to acquire consciousness* Up to a point, prescription in all three categories has been deliberately avoided* The only reasonable pre­ scription for educators 1 b that which specifies guidelines for the acquisition of consciousness* Practicable ideas for the classroom, or for any area of.school, which pre­ scribe instead of suggest are premature and assumptive because most educators have not acquired a. level of consciousness that allows them to understand the human wrong which they cause from employing educational pre­ scriptions for oppressive ends* To Be Allowed To Talk As Well As To Listen

The opening idea in the first category related directly to the definition of education as the nurturing of thought* f • R* Wees Bays that St*-Augustine "••• gave. us a clue when he said in the Concessions. 'And so I learned not from those who taught, hut from those who talked with me,' What he discovered was the effective difference between talking at and talking with*"40 Shis is a dis­ covery which most educators have yet to make* It is a teacher's common misconception to think that to talk to a r , student is to teach a student* Talking should occur9 but it should be the students who do most of it* The • * students should not talk primarily with the teacher; they should talk with each other* Even if this idea became widely accepted, there would be a time infringement that would significantly minimize each child's dally participa­ tion* This is an impasse which a teacher could effectively overcome by shifting the class emphasis from himself to group work* W* R* Wees expresses the problem and its resoltuion with clarity and brevity: In school, however, in our form of mass » education, there is a good deal more to be done than merely shutting the teacher up to give the children time to talk* For example, as I figure it, even if the teacher never said a word, each or thirty-five children would still have only nine minutes a day in which to speak his mind* The organization of children for research and development, to use industrial jargon, is. however, only a technical problem: Dividing the class into seven groups to give each child seven times as much talking time, and the rest of the time for listening with both ears and mind *q is already being tried successfully in many schools* 9

40Ibid. 49Ibid*. p. 105. To be allowed to talk le an indiepensable characteria tic of the total concept of that freedom which must exist in a Language Arts content area if children are to begin, to explore those thoughts which will assist them in completing their humanity through the acquisition of consciousness* To be allowed to talk is just one of four indispensable concerns and consequent aspects of freedom to which the Language Arts teacher must give serious attention* Listening, writing, and reading are the other three* There is nothing particularly new about this enumeration* What is new, in the sense that it re­ mains unfamiliar to most educators, is the idea that the student teaches himself these skills with assistance from the teacher* For this reason, the teacher functions

* more as a facilitator than as a teacher* To be allowed to **talk with" is to be allowed to engage in all four modes of expression* This is true because "Writing is soundless speech and reading is soundless listening* Children who are allowed to work « * in groups ’in order to pursue a common purpose use all four language skills: talking, listening, writing, and reading* Speech and listening, however, should be first considera­ tions in a Language Arts content area because "•*• any 316 ■ t • classroom in which children don't have as much time as they want and need for rapid-fire speeoh and rapid-fire listening doeB very little to fire thought As a consequence of the deprivation of speech and listening experiences, students have little or no thought with which to penetrate the meanings of the words which they read. Special Attention to The Teaching of Reading

Reading instruction suffers from a separate core of misinformation the consequences of which are severe enough to warrant special attention. In most schools, reading is used to reinforce an authoritarian framework and to support the teacher's position as oppressor. In an authoritarian setting, discipline is a main concern. When the concept of teaching is to tell and the concept of learning is to take in what is told, it is possible to employ reading for an oppressive end. To take in what is told implies comprehension, but mere comprehension is not education. Why, then, is so much time spent in the so-called process of teaching reading? Perhaps part of the answer is afforded by W. R. Wees who says that **••• schools still have not got over the nineteenth-century battle with 'illiteracy.* Reading is still the in thing, the most Important subject in school."^2

51 Ibid. 52Ibid.- p. 135* Reading ±b , of course, important; the abilities to speak intelligently and to listen well are equally as important, * though, as the ability to read* "McLuhan would say, ■ technology is about to make listening the in thing and reading obsolete everywhere else*99^3 Pending the realization of HcLuhan's prediction, it still behooves teachers of Language Arts to discover why most of their efforts to teach reading fall drastically short of their projected goals* W* R* Wees offers a reason for this failure which derives, again, from the most basic misconception that educators maintain, the misconception which assumes that a teacher can teach a student anything and that a teacher is directly respon­

sible for making thoughts in a student9b mind: The main difficulty in teaching reading is that our schools have gone at it backward* They have tried to teach reading, not from the child9s own thoughts, not from his own sound symbols, but nearly always from somebody else9 s; for- the child the process is like trying- to put together the scattered bones of a skeleton* On the other hand, let the child have a thought, let him speak his thought, give him the printed symbols of his own speech and the child can read them - provided he can truBt the teacher and [-know that she has given him the right symbols* - It is presumptuous of a teacher to think that a child starts to school with no preparation for reading* When

53Ibid* 54Ibid* . p. 132. * 318 a child begins school, he is already able to express thought in sound. "The child has learned how to make t a sound or combination of sounds stand for an idea. All he has to do now is leam how to make the alphabetical ' symbols stand .for his own sound symbolsThe questiony then, becomes.one of how to help the child render those alphabetical symbols as permanent in thought as on the page of a book? The difficulty lies in the removal of the alphabetical symbol from direct experience. The sound symbol is directly related to experience. The alphabetical Bymbol is twice removed from direct experience. First * there is the oral symbol of the perception; then, there is the alphabetical symbol of the oral symbol. This is why if a child is not allowed to talk, then he will not be able to road adequately.. If a child is not allowed to talk, then there will also be no thinking; "Of course plenty of people who talk can’t read. But the two have to go together if the alphabetical and oral symbols are to have mutually supporting meanings One way to cause the bond between oral symbols and alphabetical symbols is to motivate students to inquire. The bond that is sought is not "... a mechanical bond like 9 A is for Apple9 or 9o-a-t spells cat.9 It9s a

55Ibid. . ^ Ibid.. p. 137. 319* dyna m i c , causal bond*"97 W* R* Wees speaks of two examples from his personal experience which are illustrative of the "causal bond" that must occur between the oral symbols and the alphabetical symbols before a child can have meaningful reading experiences: I*ve heard four or five youngsters who have read the same book sit around a table and go at each other hammer and tongs arguing the meaning of it* On the other hand, I’ve heard a similar group arguing a difference of opinion among themselves until somebody said.’look! We're talking ourselves hoarse from ignorance* eg Let's stop and get some evidence in the library*'3 In trying to teach reading, teachers make the mistake of trying* to teach it as a thing in itself* Xhe problem begins when the teacher assumes that he is responsible for giving the student the tools with which to read* £he same error applies when a teacher, assumes that he is responsible for giving a student the tools and the abilities with which to think* Actually, the child is b o m with the only tool he* needs, his mind: With this tool he can create, must create, all the other tools that he can use, the ideas, concepts, and abilities that these provide. In short, teachers don't give the child tools to think with; what teachers do is to provide him with things to think about* Then by thought the child creates his own instruments for t h o u g h t . 59

57Ibid.*, p. 139* 58Ibid., p* 139-140. " i b i d . . p. 133. A Few Words About Why The Child Will Not Write

Turning to the idea of writing, it is immediately evident that this skill suffers from the same ignorant abuse which distorts the previously mentioned skills of talking, listening, and reading* The teacher regulates the natural flow of a child•s thought as it appears on paper by imposing the cut-and-dried laws of writing* This imposition freezes the child into silence and causes him, in the future, to keep those thoughts to himself which ho would have willingly sharedi So they write what they cannot talk, usually with the same fluency that they enjoy in speech* Of course, if teacher insists on pretty printing or that awful nuisance called spelling, well, OK, 1911 print pretty and 1*11 spell good, but the ideas are all off in the woods somewhere, and teacher, dear teacher, I am afraid that you and I will never ever get them back, not on paper, that is*60^

If teaching is to be defined as the nurturing of thought, then the skills of talking, listening, reading, and writing should be directed toward the facilitation and * creation of thought and not utilized as means to prevent or thwart creative mind activity* The first positive Btep that a language Arts teacher can take to prevent the misuse and abuse of these skills is to atop assuming that he is direotly responsible for creating thoughts in a

60Ibid., p. 107. student's head* Once a teacher accepts that it is not he who is responsible for thought formulation in a child's mind, then the teacher is in a reasonable position to do what he can do that will make a difference in the child's mind* The Language Arts teacher can continuously furnish his students with ideas "... that ought to go together to 61 make form and don't*" Thinking becomes intense when students want to fit ideas together and they can't* The language arts skills can be effectively learned and used. *r when a child regards them as means to an end which has as its goal effective thinking for the solution of a problem which is intimately personal* Allowing students to relate language skills to problems which are intimately personal is the same as allowing students to relate language skills to their humanity, and there is nothing more important to people than people* Why should school be a place where this is an exception? Resources and Human Relationships In The Language Arts Classroom

/ In turning to the second category to discuss the five domains to whioh thought can apply itself in relation to Language Arts, it is immediately necessary to establish the idea that school is not a plaoe of exception where

61Ibid., p. 108. * 322 students’find their humanity to be unimportant* On the contrary, humanity is people and people are the primary resources of the school* People make the school* W. R* Wees says that the child himself and his thinking mind , all the other children, and the teachers are the primary resources of the school* "These resources are so in­ trinsic to school that without them we have no school**®2 Accepting that the ^pftdmary resources of a school are people, it unquestioningly follows that relationships among people should be a natural concern for members of the school* Relationships among people are not restricted to intellectual concepts, although people oftentimes apply thought to the concept of human relationships in order to increase that khowledge which is: required to understand people and to live successfully among them* In school, the participation in human relationships and the application of thought to human relationships should happen con­ currently* The participation will happen fairly naturally; the occurrence of the application of thought to human relationships may, at first, have to be a bit contrived*. Contrivances, however, should be permitted only until students are able to find their own direotion independently* ... 4 62Ibid* * p. 119.

f 4 The language Arts classroom is, by nature of its definition, an ideal setting in which to ply students with opportunities to think about human relationships 9 but the idea of human relationships is general enough to require specification before it can be approached intelligently* W* R* Wees specifies five domains to which thought may apply itself ‘in relationships* Several of the relation­ ships or domains may be questioned in terms of their pertinence to the general concept of human relationships* Such relationships would be those which emphasize "things9* instead of people* It is, nevertheless, acceptable to regard such relationships as human which require human perception and human thought for recognition* It is alBO permissible to reduce the consideration of the kinds of human relationships to two divisions* : First, there are those relationships which include only people* Second, there are those relationships which include things and which depend on man*s perceptual ability and his thinking

> v + - ability for recognition* The main difference between the first and second division is manvs epistemological ad­ vantage over objects, an advantage which does not exist in people relationships which are exclusive of objects* 9 Relationships of things to things also belong to the second division and become a kind of human relationship when man includes himself psychically through, perception 324 and thinking* W* H* Wees does not bother to make such fine distinctions because his efforts are directed toward ♦ simply specifying the kinds of relationships to which thought may apply Itselfy whereas it is the immediate effort of this study to qualify all five of Wees* de­ signated relationships as being essentially human relation­ ships* Five Domains To Which A Student- May Apply Himself

W* R* Wees says there are five domains to which a student can apply his thinking about subject matter in a classroom* They are the relationship of man to man; people to people; the relationship of people to things; the relationship of students y themselves y both to people and to people and things; the relationship of things to things; and the internal relationship of mental faculties to the process of thinking about thinking* Additionally y Wees offers three reasons for the existence of his class­ ification of domains: My only reasons for reclassifying subject matter into the five domains of thinking are (a) to suggest to the integrators an exhaustive - set of curcibles into which they might toss their disciplines for melting down into more unified compounds and (b) to suggest to teachers a check list from which children are certain to draw the topics that they want*to think about, topics within which children'are also certain to integrate their experience into their own conceptual patterns* There is a third reason: (c)to help teachers ensure that the resources of the school are appropriately balanced among people, things, and the children9 s relationship to them. For the world of the twentieth century the study of things has monopolized the years* ox’ schooling for the child, as things themselves have mono­ polized and polarized the driving forces of their parents* . The materialism of the society which gave birth to the school and the materialism of the school which fed its product back into the society have gone hand in hand *63 It is the third reason of Wees and his subsequent explanation which suggest the urgency in education to recognize that the primary resource of schools is people* Only from this repognition will proper action be taken within the schools that will cause a shift from programs that emphasize the perpetuation of man's mechanicalness to alternatives that stress the Importance of human evolvement* If Language Arts teachers can begin to approach talking, listening, reading, and writing in accordance with those suggestions which were, made earlier in this chapter and if Language Arts teachers, in fulfilling these suggestions, attempt with awareness to foster a classroom viewpoint which sees participation in and thinking.about human relationships as valuable, then literature in the Language Arts classroom will become self-teaching by its mere existence* Literature concerns

63Ibid*. p* 116-117* people and their relationships* When things, as well as

6 * people are components of a relationship, the relationship is, nonetheless, human* The relationship between Keats and the Grecian Urn and between Hart Crane and The Bridge are human in so far as such relationships depend on the contribution of human thought and perception for their . existence and in so far as -the effects or results of such relationships are absorbed by human beings* For teachers to view literature, and to allow their students to view literature, as a source of insight into human relation- i ships which, in turn, can be used to evolve thinking that, likewise, can be used to originate, strengthen, and main­ tain those relationships which have been encouraged in the ambience of the Language Arts classroom is to open the way 'j for the acquisition of a preliminary awareness of man's incompleteness which may, with continued encouragement, develop into a desire to acquire full humanity through * the acquisition of consciousness* * Nucleus For A Language Arts Classroom Based on Ousnensky's Table of the Four Forms of the Manifestation of Consciousness

In a Language Arts classroom where one of the pur­ poses is to provide for the acquisition of consciousness, Ouspensky's table of the four forms of the manifestation fc of consciousness (see Appendix, Exhibit B) may be regarded as a source of suggestions which could form a nucleus of purposeful direction. The nucleus derived from the

chart would assist teachers in* preparing specific procedures for the Language ArtsIS classroom and provide an overall plan of progression from the attribute of simple sensation to the characteristic of cosmic consciousness. The nucleus derivative of Ouspensky's table is not to be equated with the idea of a curriculum. The nucleus, like the idea of. a curriculum, does indicate a general ■ direction in which teachers and students could progress, but unlike a curriculum, the nucleus does not dictate or prescribe, in any way, specific procedures for the attainment of goals which are projected from it. The preciseness of approach should be left to the discretion of a shared decision between teachers and studentB. For the most part, the nucleus would serve the purpose of a touchstone. Occasional reference to the nucleus would help a teacher to evaluate whether or not the underlying direction of his classroom activities, involvements, and attitudes have deviated from the direction in which the possibility of the acquisition of consciousness lies. On the other hand, consistent adherence to the nucleus, does not guarantee the acquisition of consciousness. The benefit derivable from adherence to a nucleus based on Ouspensky*s chart lies in the contribution that such adherence makes to the creation of a total ambience in which it is possible for students to begin to cause I

328 » themselves to become conscious* To build a-nucleus for the Language Arts classroom from Ouspensky's table of the four forms of the manifes­ tation of consciousness it is necessary to approach the table imaginatively and inventively* Along the top the table specifies designations such as Psychology, logic, mathe­ matics, forms of actions, and morals* These designations represent areas of mental behavior* For example, morals is an area of mental behavior which reflects the continuum of ethical reaction which begins with man's unconscious actions on a sleep level and ends with* man's emancipation from submission to group-consciousness* Along the; left, vertical margin of the table, the four levels of con­ sciousness are designated* The word "form" is simply a substitute for the word "level*" The four forms range from the lowest level of consciousness, the first form, to the highest level of consciousness, the fourth form* - These four forms also correspond respectively to the * * previous designations of sleep level, waking-sleep level, self*-consciousness, and objective consciousness* Ouspensky obviously intended his table to be used as a kind of summation of the characteristics which pertain to specific, levels of consciousness* It seems additionally obvious that Ouspensky intended for his table to l>e used for contrasting different levels of consciousness

4* ♦ 329 as well, as for comparing areas of mental behavior on the same level* These are certainly justifiable reasons for creating such a table 9 but eifter a point 9 the use of . summarization reaches a state of inertness* The information on the table becomes nonfunctional* The idea of building a nucleus for a language Arts content area from Ouspensky9 s tablo is an effort, to omploy the table9s information beyond its function as a device of summarization* To build a nuoleus for a language Arte classroom from Ouspensky9 s table 9 it is necessary to align the concept of language Arts with one or more- of the areas of mental behavior designated along the top of the table* In accordance with the commonly accepted definition of language Arts, it seems that the area of psychology would be the most appropriate* Under that specific heading are listed particular characteristics which correspond to a . certain level of consciousness* It then becomes the teacher9 s responsibility to select those characteristics which best reflect the level of consciousness toward which particular students will be able and willing to aspire* -

Such a selectioni would constitute the nucleus of the. .. language Arts classroom and would, of course, depend on a number of variables* The nuoleus, itself ,.jwould become a variable which would need to be ohanged from time to time and even, perhaps, from student to student* 330 * Actually, there is no set procedure beyond a definition for determine the area of mental behavior which

best corresponds to the L a n g u a g e Arts area* If, in the future, the presently accepted definition of a Language Arts area should change to the degree that it would include scientific explanations, then the nucleus for such an area would include the characteristics under the heading "Forms of science" as well as the characteristics under

« the heading of psychology* After the nucleus is created, its function is one of guidance rather than dictation* For example, adherence to a nucleus composed of characteristics from.the heading of psychology would simply imply a subtle infusion of those characteristics into a Language Arts area* Specifical— ly, the classroom activities should allow for direct ex­ posure to experiences which promote understanding of concepts, words, judgments, syllogistic, reasoning, reasoning, itself, written language, allegory, and emotions* Whether or not the characteristics are selected for correspondence to the third level of consciousness, as illustrated by the ones in the previous example, the best procedure is to regulate the selection in accordance with students9 present level of consciousness and to proceed from there* The specific characteristics, such as words and judgments, can be made to be as obvious as 331 the title of a classroom activity, or they can be the invisible results of activities which go under a different guise* TheBe sorts of decisions are prescriptive and should be left to each teacher's judiciousness* Language Arts Area As A Paradigm For Creation of Nuclei For Other Subject Areas « The method of creating other nuclei for other subject areas is the same as the method which is used to create a nucleus for a Language Arts area* For that reason^ the method for the creation of a nucleus for a Language Arts - area can serve as a paradigm for the creation of nuolei for other subject areas* For each subject in a school, at least one of the headings on Ouspensky* s table is appropriately correspondent to the commonly accepted definition of the subject* It may be questionable whether or not a subject such as Home Economics has a suitably correspondent, heading on the table, but a closer examination of the table will immedia­ tely yield a positive answer* The heading of Morals could very easily form the nucleus for a Home Economics olass as well as form the nucleus for other subjects* A certain amount of overlap of headings among subjects is both * inevitable and necessary* After all, the eventual goal of a school should be igholexless, not fragmentation* I EPILOGUE

Just as the eventual goal of a school should be wholeness and not fragmentation, so should the goal of all teachers be the provision of an ambience in which they, as. well as their students, can escape .human fragmentation * and achieve, instead, a vision of the infiniteness of themselves and of the worlds beyond the world. For this achievement there is ho worth in either the claim for teacher training or the claim for student preparation. Self—readiness is the only measure for man to take toward self-unification, and unity of self means the completion of humanity through the acquisition of consciousness. Without consciousness, man will continue to be the purveyor of destruction and the puppet of illusion, the illusion that he is already what he has not yet become*, glan must give up the lie of himself and must begin to search inwardly before he can change the world. Man • should not look, beyond himself to find the world.

332 EXHIBIT A A TABLE OP THE POUR NATURES WHICH CONTRIBUTE TO THE CREATION OP AN AMBIENCE

Considered Contribution to Resulting Enitity Type of Nature Environment Creation of Human Environment

First nature Strictly object Physical object environment minimal

Physical object Second nature Object environment more than minimal plus aura 333

Human being First nature Mostly object more than minimal environment plus some aura •*

**« Human being ^ Second nature Entirely human immH wiirn environment • EXHIBIT B F F F Foui D S 1 let okm m k o m k o ft u.

m i' *IBinwif*>ka TV rwn « il - lM i «f n rtw V T a k > * f i w n i B I * 1 . H i m S n M H ■ ■ *. *. ■ ■ H M n S m i H . m . 1 h anJml M anJml h 1

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£ Tk'wwi m * M M A n W t a l r t y W i S W T t a f r r W V T (W aWL L W a W i( h W T ‘ I'! BIBLIOGRAPHY Adler, Alfred. The Education of Children. New Yorks Greenburg !Publishers, 1 9^0 • Bennett, H. No More Public -School. New York and Berkeleys Random House and The bookworks, 1972. Bradley, David G. A Guide To The World»e Religions* Spectrum Books. Englewood Cliffs, h. «r. : Iprentice- Hall, Inc, 1963. Cooper, David. The Death of the Family. New York: Pantheon, T 9 7 T I Camus, Alfred. The Myth of Sisyphus and Other essays. Translated 1'rom the French by Justin O'brien. Vintage Books, New York: Random House, 199?. Cretjer, J. W. Patrick. Lost for Words: Language and Educational Failure. Baltimore; Penguin Books. 1972. deChardin, Teilhard. The Future of Man. Translated by Norman Denny. New York: Warper & Row, Publishers, 1969. deOhardin, Teilhard. The Phenomenon of Man. Translated by Berfiard Wall. The cathedral Library, New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1969. ‘ DeRopp, Robert S. The Master Game. New York:Dell Publishing Company , Igob. i Fitzgerald, F. Scott. • The Crack-Up. New York: New Directions^,; 1996. Fromm, Erich. Man for Himself. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. ig7i • Fromm, Erich. The Art of Loving. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, i 9bb • Fromm, Erich. The Revolution of Hone: Towara a Humanized Technology. New York: bantam House.1971. Frankl, Viktor E. The Doctor and the Soul.Translated by Richard & Clara Winston, bew Vork: Bantam Books, 1971. Frankl, Viktor E. Man* a Search for Meaning: An Introduction to Logotherapy. Translated by n e e Leech, hew York: : pocket books, 1971. * ■ # 336 Freire, Paulo, Pedagogy of the Oppressed* Translated by Myra Berman !ftamos* toew Vorfc: herder & Herder, 1970* Glasser, William, M* B* Schools Without Failure* New York: Harper & Row, 1969* • Goble, Frank* The Third Force : The Psychology of Abraham Mas low. Socket Books. Mew York: Simon & &ohuster. • r g m r Goodman, Paul* Growing Un Absurd* Vintage Books, New York: Random Mouse , igoo. . * . ‘ A '* . Harris. Thomas A* I*m OK — You*re OK: A pratical Guide to Transactional Analysis* kew xork: Hamer &' Row, '1969* ------Herrick, C* Judson* The Evolution of Human Nature* New York: Harper & Brothers, 1965. Holt, John* How Children Fail* New York: Dell Publishing Company7 • Holt, John* How Children learn* New York: Bell Publishing Company , 1 9671 • Illich, Ivan B* Celebration of Awareness* Garden City: Doubleday and Company, inc., 19&9* Illich, Ivan B* Deschooling Society* New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, i9'/i • Janov, Arthur* The Primal Scream* New York: Bell Publishing Company, 197 V* Jung,. Carl G. Man and His Symbols* Garden City: Boubleday . and Company, 1969* Jung, Carl G* The Undiscovered Self* Translated from the German by K* k. c. hull. Mentor Books, New York: The New American Library of World Literature. Inc*. 1958. Kaufmann, Walter* The Portable Nietzsche* New York: The Viking Press,-19^4* Kohl, Herbert R* The Open Classroom* Vintage Books, New York: Random House, 1909* Kosol. Jonathan* Free Schools* New York: Bantam Books. 1972.------337' Rumen, James Simon* The Strawberry Statement: Notes of a College Revolutionary* Mew York; Avon Bootes* 1976* . 1 Laing, R* D* Knots* Pantheon Books, Now York: Random House, 1970• Maslov/, A* H* The Farther Reaches ocf Human Nature* New York: The Viking Press, 197*1* 4 Maslow, Abraham H* Towards a Psychology of Being* New Yorks Van Nos*brand Keinhoid company, 1 • May, Rollo* Love and Will* New York: W* W* Norton & Company, inc • , 1 £b9• Moffett, James* Teaching the Universe of Discourse* Bostons Houghton, Mifflin Company, igbti* Mumford, Lewis* The Transformations of Man* Collier Books, New Yorks Harper & Brothers, 1962* Murray, Donald A* A Writer Teaches Writings A Practical Method of Teaching Composition* boston: houghton HX'fT O n"CompanyV ------Ouspensky, P* D* A New Model of the Universe* New Yorks Alfred A* Knopf, 1969* Ouspensky, P* D* In Search of the Miraculous* New Yorks Hare our t, Brace & World, 1949* Ouspensky, P* D* Tertium Organums A Key to the Enigmas of The World* New York: Alfred knopr, 19b9. Ouspensky, P* D. The Fourth Way* New. Yorks Alfred A* Knopf, 1969* Ouspensky. P. D* The Psychology of Man*s Possible Evolution* New Yorks Alfred A. khopr,l9t>9* Peters, Fritz* Boyhood with Gurd.jieff * The Penguin Metaphysical Library* Baltimore: Penguin Books, Inc., 1972* Postman, Neil and Weingartner, Charles* Teaching as a Subversive Activity* A Delta Book* New Yorks liiell P u i n i 'rih'lng',’ ' Reich, Charles A* The Greening of America* Bantam Books, New Yorks Random house, 1971* 338* * Reimer. Everett. School is Dead: Alternative a in Education. Anchor Books, New York: boubleday & Company, Inc. 1972. Roszak, Theodore. The Making of a Counter Culture. New xork: Anchor Ikooks, Vy&9. Rossman, “Michael. On Learning and Social Change. Vintage Books, New York: Random House, 1972. Sartre, Jean-Paul. Being and Nothingness. Translated by Hazel E. Barneeu New York: Pill loa ophi cal Library, Inc., 1956. Schrank, Jeffery. Teaching Human Beings: 101 Subversive Activities for the classroom. Boston: Beacon Press • m ------Wees, W. R. Nobody Can Teach Anybody Anything. New York: Tower Publications, 1971. Weil, Andrew. The Natural Mind. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, T9727 PERIODICALS Drucker, Peter. "School Around The Bend," Psychology Today. June, 1972, pp. 47-49, 86-89. Greene, Maxine, "Curriculum and Consciousness,” Teacher*s College Record. IXXIII (December, 1971) , pp. 253-269* Holt, John, "Truly good education in a bad society is a . contradiction in t e r m s * New School Exchange Newsletter, #60, p. 20. Pournelle, Jerry. "Can We Save Our Schools by Demanding Results?" The American Legion Magazine. August, 1972, pp. b-io, 42-45*