HERBERT SPENCER. — English philosopher, b. at Derby on 27 Apr. 1820, d. at Brighton on 8 Dec. 1903. Belonging to a cultured family, he received his entire education within II. Initially a railway engineer, he left this occupation in 1845 to devote himself to studies.
He began as a writer on politics and economics (from 1848 to 1853 he was one of the editors of *Economist*) and only in 1855 published his first philosophical work, *Principles of Sociology*, followed by *Progress, its Law and Cause* (1857) and the outline of his *System of Synthetic Philosophy* (*A System of Synthetic Philosophy. Prospectus* [1860]), of which the first volume, *First Principles* (1862; 6th ed. 1899), remains the fundamental document; the subsequent works (*Principles of Biology*, 2 vols., 1864–67; 2nd ed. 1898; *Principles of Psychology*, 2 vols., 1870–72; 5th ed. 1899; *Principles of Sociology*, 4 vols., 1876–85; *Principles of Ethics*, 4 vols., 1879–93; etc.) are an application of the main theses contained therein. Also to be considered are the *Essays* (2 vols., 1858–63) and the *Autobiography* (2 vols., 1904, posthumous). S. is rightly regarded as the leading thinker of English positivism (v.); however, judged on its own merits, his thought lacks philosophical vigour, critical sense, and speculative refinement. Spencer’s optimism, his enthusiastic faith in progress, his dogmatic acceptance of evolution (v.) as a metaphysical principle, and his scientism (v.) reveal a deficiency in speculative aptitude and critical naïveté that caused his vast, almost encyclopedic œuvre to age prematurely and irreparably.
Evolution and progress are the two cornerstones of Spencerian positivism: whatever the subject (the development of the earth or of society, of industry or of literature, etc.), the foundation of all progress is the same evolution that proceeds from the simple to the complex through successive differentiations. Hence, metaphysical evolutionism, according to which evolution is a cosmic principle and the first cause of all progress. The law of evolution is the passage of matter from a state of dispersion to one of integration or concentration; the fundamental determination of the evolutionary process is differentiation, or the transition from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous. Evolution, according to S., is an integration of matter and a concomitant dissipation of motion, during which matter passes from an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity to a definite, coherent heterogeneity, and the conserved motion undergoes a parallel transformation (*First Principles*, § 145). When evolution reaches its climax—that is, the maximum of differentiation and concentration—the opposite process of dissolution sets in; yet this does not trouble Spencer’s optimism, since dissolution is the beginning of a new evolution. The human evolutionary process leads to the realization of an ever-greater harmony between man’s spiritual nature and his living conditions; and it is here that his perfection and full happiness reside. For S., however, the principle of evolution applies only to the knowledge and systematization of phenomena of experience or to the domain of the knowable or of science, beyond which lies the Unknowable—the domain of religion, the realm of inaccessible mystery, which we “do not know and do not know.” S. adopts the agnosticism (v.) of Hamilton (v.) Mansel (v.), derived from the Scottish school (v.), and uses it to indicate the point of reconciliation between religion and science. According to this theory, not only science but also religion stops short before the mystery (before the Absolute, the Unconditioned); all religious beliefs (including Christianity) concerning the Absolute say nothing that can be logically demonstrated or scientifically proven; there is a mysterious force, the cause of all phenomena, utterly inconceivable to man and unknown alike to science and religion. Man can represent this mysterious force only by means of symbols. These assertions by S. are evidently erroneous and superficial. While proclaiming God unknowable, he identifies Him with an immanent force within nature. The conclusion that religion, like science, halts before the Unknowable rests on the a priori, dogmatically accepted presupposition of the impossibility of Revelation. Apart from this, Spencer’s doctrine is intrinsically inconsistent: if religion and science meet before the mystery of the Unknowable and both avail themselves of the same inadequate means to penetrate it, the distinction between religious faith and scientific knowledge—that is, the distinction between the two kingdoms of the “knowable” and the “unknowable”—is annulled. The problem of the encounter between religion and science then loses all meaning, since the paths of one are as natural as those of the other; at most, one is dealing with two human ways of posing the problem of the Absolute, but in that case one is no longer speaking of religion, which is reduced to an inferior degree of human consciousness (that of ignorance), in contrast to the superior degree of science, which at least knows the phenomenon. Thus one strays outside the concept of religion, which, owing to a lack of religious experience, S. failed to grasp in its authenticity.
The phenomena are the manifestation of the Unknowable, the domain of science. The ego and the non-ego (subject and object) are “persistent” groupings of phenomena, conditioned effects of the Unconditioned Cause; that is, although the relationship between the Unknowable and the phenomena is unknown, a hypothetical correspondence may be supposed (transfigured realism, cf. *First Principles*, § 50). For S., the difference between philosophy and science is only one of degree of unification: philosophy achieves a completely unified knowledge, science only partially. Where science stops, philosophy begins—not in the sense that the latter has its own object and method, but in the sense (which negates the content and autonomy of philosophy) that, being knowledge in its highest degree of generality, it takes as its starting point the general principles (indestructibility of matter, continuity of motion, persistence of force) to which science has arrived. Now these principles are based on the law of evolution; hence philosophy is merely the theory of evolution. At this point, nothing remained for S. but to apply dogmatically (and conflating spirit and matter, God and nature, etc.) the evolutionary principle to the various sciences: biology, psychology, sociology, ethics, religion. And so the entire system is built upon a hypothesis (evolution in the Darwinian sense [v.]) that is neither proven true by science nor by philosophy.
Biology is the study of the evolution of organic phenomena: life consists in an “adaptation” (through which organs are formed and differentiated) that becomes ever more complete as internal conditions adapt to external ones; heredity preserves and accumulates individual organic changes. In man, even consciousness is a form of adaptation (S. admits an unconscious spiritual substance); reason too is a form of the evolutionary process. There are a priori notions (independent of experience), but only for the individual, not for the species; they are the product of accumulated experience transmitted by heredity. Sociology, too, is the study or description (here S. departs from Comte’s [v.] sociology) of the evolutionary development of society; fixing ideals and
The moral sphere is the measure of this development. S. maintains that social development must be left entirely free, entrusted solely to its spontaneous force, without state intervention (which does everything badly), without forcing or anticipating evolution, as this would disturb and hinder it with serious consequences (social upheavals, wars, etc.). S. advocates the defense of all individual freedoms. The object of morality is human conduct, which, in the biological evolution of S., means the progressive adaptation of man to his living conditions; therefore, the best life is that most suited to his conditions: good is identified with pleasure (hedonism, utilitarianism [v.]).
However, S. admits a feeling of moral obligation (v.), which is such for the individual, not for the species; that is, it is the result of the evolutionary process, whereby conscience (which has proven useful) becomes interior (autonomous) rather than exterior. With evolution, this feeling of moral duty or obligation will disappear: “the highest actions, required for the harmonious unfolding of life, will be as common as are now those inferior ones to which we are driven by mere desire” (*The Principles of Ethics*, § 46). At this stage of evolution, the coincidence of individual well-being with that of others produces the final harmony between egoism and altruism.
Pedagogy is also founded on the same principles (*Education, Intellectual, Moral and Physical*, 1861; *Essays on Education*, 1911, posthumous). One must teach what is useful for achieving better living conditions; the importance of knowledge is thus determined by the needs it satisfies according to their degree of urgency, and hence by the relative needs: 1) for our preservation; 2) for the rearing of children; 3) for maintaining social order; 4) for filling leisure time to satisfy our tastes. The biological, psychological, and social sciences satisfy the first three degrees of needs; the fourth, satisfied by humanistic instruction, is a luxury and not a necessity. This assertion confirms S.’s limited sensitivity to the problems of the spirit.