Around the beginning of the last century, in 1909, when German science could still boast a world-class reputation, the great American William James expressed himself in a rather unflattering way about the German professor in a lecture titled „A Pluralistic Universe“:
“In Germany the forms are so professionalized that anybody who has gained a teaching chair and written a book, however distorted and eccentric, has the legal right to figure forever in the history of the subject like a fly in amber. All later comers have the duty of quoting him and measuring their opinions with his opinion. Such are the rules of the professorial game – they think and write from each other and for each other and at each other exclusively” (my emphasis).
A man to whom America and the world owe not only a classic work on psychology (Principles of Psychology) but also one of the most profound explorations of the phenomenon of religion — in The Varieties of Religious Experience, James poses the still-relevant question of what religious motivation actually consists of and in what manifold ways it can manifest itself — such a man can certainly also allow himself to examine the then still-admired, envied, but also much-ridiculed German professor from up close and with critical intent. His scathing criticism is, of course, exaggerated. German universities have always been a refuge for decent and intellectually outstanding individuals, providing them with material security, but James’s rule is not wrong just because there are shining exceptions to it.
If the great American’s observation is correct, that a kind of tribal mentality prevails in the academic milieu, where the privileged members of the inner circle write and think exclusively from, for and at each other, then this also alludes to the second aspect of this mentality: namely, the attitude towards outsiders who presume to intrude into their own territory and potentially „mark“ it. I am deliberately using this term from behavioral science, where such a ritual is known to play a special role, but also provokes the sharpest reactions — right up to the merciless tearing apart of the bold intruder.
What am I trying to say with this introduction? Why am I rousing William James from his hundred-year slumber and referring to the behavior of professors as territorial defenders? Well, because with my book on Die Brüder Ludwig und Georg Büchner („The Brothers Ludwig and Georg Büchner“), I apparently became an intruder myself, someone who has ventured unauthorized into a strictly guarded territory.
In this book, which the small publisher „ibidem“ was kind enough to publish, I had to practice due modesty, because regarding the poet Georg Büchner, the small body of work he left behind, and the sparse records of his biography, surely everything that professional detective work could possibly uncover has already been said. So, I only needed to dutifully draw from existing research: from Jan-Christoph Hauschild’s Georg Büchner, from Michael Hofmann and Julian Kanning’s Georg Büchner – Epoche – Werk (Georg Büchner – Era – Work), and — with the greatest profit — from Hermann Kurzke’s Georg Büchner. But a great poet inspires new reflections. I integrated the teachings from these sources into a theory of art, inspired by none other than the cultural historian Jacob Burckhardt. I contrasted the art of depth, which the Weimar Classicists sought, with an art of protest and renewal, of which Georg Büchner can be considered an eclectic master. With this analysis and a philosophical discussion of the two poles of security and freedom, which orient every work of art, I go beyond the usual mode of presentation in the first part of my book. But it’s only in the second part, where I deal with Georg’s younger brother Ludwig, that I set out on a previously untrodden path, for a monograph dealing with the similarities and contrasts in the thinking of the two brothers on the one hand and their vastly different impact on the other had until now not been written. So it was worth targeting Ludwig Büchner, who is all but forgotten today, but had in his time drawn attention to himself with nothing less than a world bestseller on science. Both brothers were famous in their own way, one during his lifetime, the other only much later: three-quarters of a century after his death.
Wouldn’t the publication of such a monograph have been an opportunity for German professors—especially those of German studies and Büchner specialists—to refute William James‘ somewhat disparaging remark and disprove it as a baseless insinuation?
Wouldn’t the publication of such a monograph have been an opportunity for the German professor — particularly the professor of German studies and especially the Büchner specialists — to refute that somewhat disparaging remark by William James, to disprove it as a baseless allegation?
One would think so. Given that ever-lurking culture of envy and quarrelsomeness which — as malicious tongues claim — is by no means rare at German universities, one might have expected them to join forces in a joint attack on the intruder. Let’s take a very close look at Jenner’s book! If you please, let’s not miss out on the pleasure of tearing such work from a non-guildsman’s hand to shreds. A book by an unknown who never sat at our feet can only consist of unfermented half-knowledge and misleading arguments!
Such a declaration of war would have been the least to expect; I would have been happy about it, for it is still preferable to „not-even-ignoring,“ the preferred procedure today for dealing with outsiders from other tribes. Besides, I know how to defend myself reasonably well, and I’m also an optimist, for I actually harbored hope that there might be more well-disposed members within the guild, a few who would fundamentally demonstrate their openness to suggestions. Hasn’t interdisciplinary work been preached in academia for decades? Doesn’t the outside world constantly get the message that they are happy about every voice, that has something to say? Such openness would have been an answer to James’s derogatory remark.
That, at any rate, was my positive frame of mind when I wrote to the only one of the three Georg Büchner biographers cited above who was reachable by email, namely the Professor of German Studies, Mr. Michael Hofmann in Paderborn (unfortunately, the wise Hermann Kurzke has already passed away, while Jan-Christoph Hauschild’s address is difficult to ascertain).
I cherished the following thought. If a German professor deals with a spirit as self-critical — almost pathologically given to self-criticism — as Georg Büchner, then surely some of that must rub off on him. Shouldn’t he even feel a particular curiosity for any attempt to shed new light on those two famous brothers? That would seem all the more obvious since they were, as it were, the living embodiments of a contrast that continues to resonate to this day—the opposition of poetry and thought, faith and science. Regardless of whether, and to what extent, the author of the book has succeeded in casting a clarifying light on the two Büchners, the very intention itself ought to be of the greatest interest.
That is how I imagined the success of my letter. But William James, the great American, was wiser than I. One must grant him sharper insight into German reality. Of course, I don’t want to deny that there can be a thousand good reasons why someone might not want to know about interesting thoughts at a particular moment in their life. Perhaps the person in question is otherwise occupied, perhaps hopelessly overwhelmed with incoming work. But that a polite letter on a subject that should be just as interesting for the recipient as for the sender simply goes unanswered can only be explained by that arrogance and dismissive attitude which James treats as a sad characteristic of people whose tribal mentality consists precisely in writing only from, for and against each other. One is forced to conclude that a man of the stature of Professor Michael Hofmann from Paderborn simply considers himself too good to even give an answer to someone outside the tribe. I mean, anyone could just show up with such pretensions! Anyone could have the audacity to poach in the ancestral territory without prior authorization!
But I don’t want to be unfair. A certain understanding can even be mustered for this dismissive attitude. In his time, James could not have foreseen that the German professor, if he has the misfortune of being in the humanities, would one day find himself in a situation that can only be described as impending misery. For things are not just bad for the representatives of the humanities, they get a little worse every year. The American psychologist and best-selling author Steven Pinker (2003) has the following to report on this topic: „Philosophy /after all, the royal discipline among the humanities/ is no longer respected. Many scientists see it as a synonym for feeble speculation.“ And elsewhere: „/American/ universities are investing less and less in the humanities. Since 1960, their share has shrunk by half, salaries and working conditions are stagnating.“ As we know, this tendency accelerated into a final sprint under Donald Trump. Anything that exceeds this man’s intelligence — that is, all knowledge that comes not from the gut but merely from the head — the president would most like to ban altogether. Seen in this light, one must have a certain understanding even for a German professor who, faced with his steadily shrinking territory, bares his claws and teeth to protect it from outsiders to the field.
It’s been an open secret for a long time. Pinker is right not only for his own country: the dismantling of the humanities is progressing in Germany just as it is in the United States. In all modern economies, the natural sciences are advancing victoriously, while the humanities are in retreat. The reason for this can be explained, say, by the contrast between astronomy and astrology. The first predicts natural events correctly, presumably even for millions of years, whereas no one has yet managed to prove that the stars have any influence on human destiny. Similarly demonstrable is the success of physics and chemistry in transforming all developing countries into industrial ones, but art and the various humanities dealing with it have made no demonstrable contribution to this transformation. That, at any rate, is the creed, as it is represented secretly or quite openly by so-called ministries of culture or education all over the world. No wonder they push for a constant expansion of education in the sciences of nature, while history, literature, and the other humanities wither into niche subjects. Physics, chemistry, and all other natural sciences are considered „true“ and „objective“ because their effects are measurable and calculable. They promote the prosperity of nations in the form of an increasingly rich supply of material goods. But they also serve a a safeguard against the conquest lust of other states. It is precisely for this reason, that those states devote a significant portion of their wealth to the development of ever newer, ever deadlier weapons.
On the other hand, the realm of art and the humanities concerned with them is relativized as a dispensable luxury, which a rich state may, but does not have to afford. Some even want to see culture as an unduly intrusive element because it can easily be misused for defining one’s own national identity, and then it produces the same differences and hostilities as religions did in the past. Only the natural sciences, it is said, do not suffer from this evil, for they are as universal as nature itself. There are no Chinese, German, or Greenlandic laws of nature. But art and the humanities are inherently local. They describe subjective realities, and this fundamental lack of objectivity, it is claimed, also characterizes the humanities.
What sweeping claims these are! I assume that the typical German Germanist, at least the one so harshly criticized by James, doesn’t even want to hear about such problems. They have built a private protective wall around their mental allotment, around their respective specialty. They have carefully shielded themselves from the outside world and write about, for, and against other. Surely that must be enough!
Except that this consigns one’s own field to irrelevance! A scholar who deals with Georg Büchner, of all people, should be more interested than anyone in the question of the relationship between art and science, for since the Enlightenment and the triumphant march of the natural sciences, it has been a primary concern for many a German poet. And Georg Büchner? He was quite literally tortured to death by it. At the end of his short life, he often dissected barbs for days on end, from early morning until late evening, to prove a (now refuted) thesis — for him that was science, but he called it torture. But Büchner didn’t know what else to do. As a persecuted person publicly wanted by the authorities, he had to prove to his family, his fiancée, and the world that after all he was a decent member of society.
For him, this proof was only possible through success in science, for in art he followed a path that was too revolutionary, too little understood during his lifetime. Only in between, when the opportunity arose for a few, mostly brief moments, did he take up the pen — and intoxicate himself with unheard-of thoughts and the magic of language. For him, these were moments of fleeting happiness.
The book Die Brüder Ludwig und Georg Büchner (on the publisher’s suggestion, I reversed the original order „Georg und Ludwig Büchner“ to make searching for „Georg Büchner“ easier) is the work of an outsider who, however, by virtue of his years of engagement with foreign cultures, can claim the advantage of being able to pose — and perhaps answer — the central question of the relationship between art and science in a more comprehensive way. The answer, in any case, contradicts the prevailing ideology, as represented by the so-called ministries of culture and education, which are stubbornly working toward the slow but inexorable dismantling of the humanities.