The stimulus shows someone engaged in some behaviour. This may raise the philosophical question of whether that behaviour is inherently human – if it is, in some sense, derivative from an a priori human essence; or whether, as Sartre argues, man is ‘condemned to be free’. I shall answer this question by contrasting Sartre’s view with Aristotle’s essentialist account of human nature, ultimately arguing that the latter’s notion of human essence are thoroughly misguided, but that Sartre’s alternative is not, in the end, any different.
Aristotle’s claim is that there must be two types of good: those which are a means to something else, and those which are an end in themselves. The ultimate good for humans, therefore, is eudaimonia (a state of human flourishing). It is not pursued for any further goal, but for its own sake: it is the end towards which all our other activities are directed. For instance, we brush our teeth to maintain good dental hygiene; we desire that for good overall physical health; and we desire that because it contributes to eudaimonia.
If all human activity is directed towards a single goal, then we can understand the nature and function (‘ergon’) of man with respect to that goal. Of course, this assumes that humans have a function; as Aristotle says in his Physics, there is “nothing in nature without a purpose”, and man is a part of nature. More particularly, each part of a human – the heart, the brain and the lungs – fulfils some specific function, then the whole too must have a function: that which all the parts together strive towards.
He dismisses various potential candidates for human function: it could not be growth, on the basis that this is shared by all organic life; nor sentience, since this also is not unique to human. The answer he identifies – the unique human ergon – is the life of activity guided by reason. Thus, the eudaimon life is the wise life: to live rationally is to act in accordance with human essence.
Sartre argues that the Western philosophical tradition has since articulated variations on this theme that ‘essence precedes existence’ – that man has an a priori function to fulfil. This is evident in theological accounts of human origin, since when God creates humans, he has a clear idea of what they are for, in the same way that a craftsman does when he creates a paper-knife. But the assumption is never discarded, even in the ‘philosophical atheism’ of the 18th century and beyond: Kant maintains that humans share a rational essence; Rousseau contends that the essence of man is to be a noble savage, as he exists in the state of nature; and so on.
He thus distinguishes himself from more or less the entire philosophical tradition that precedes him in rejecting all notions of a predetermined ‘human nature’ – man chooses what he or she becomes: ‘existence precedes essence’.
Sartre takes issue with Aristotle’s teleological assumptions – his belief that nature is purpose, and the key to understanding that purpose begins with understanding the functions of its component parts. By the time he is writing, modern natural science has completely dispensed with the conception of nature as purpose, and seeks instead to understand it in terms of causes: the origin of the universe is understood with respect to the Big Bang; the origin of life is understood with respect to evolution. Thus there is no good reason to think that man has a purpose: this is implied neither by his being a part of nature, nor by his component parts having apparent function. The former is scientifically unsound; the latter commits the fallacy of composition. It is no more true to say that since a tire is made of rubber, then the vehicle of which it is a part is also made of rubber.
Even if one accepted that man might have a function, there remains no reason to believe that all natural entities have a unique function: this assumption seems utterly arbitrary, and is the only grounds on which Aristotle dismisses the possibility that human function is sentience.
But the key point is that all essentialists are guilty of committing the naturalistic fallacy. They suppose a necessary link between what is ‘natural’ and what is good. In Aristotle’s case, just because he believes that human function is to live rationally, it does not mean that this is the exclusive route to human happiness and flourishing: at least some humans might find fulfilment through other means.
Aristotle might respond that there is no necessary link between ‘is’ (a priori human essence) and ‘ought’ (the responsibility of humans to actualise that essence). Instead, there is a practical link which validates his argument for ethical purposes.
It remains, however, that the general essentialist arguments for humans having a function are undermined; that the arguments for Aristotle’s specific argument for human function do not hold; and so we are left with Sartre’s view: ‘to begin with [man] is nothing”. In other words, there is no a priori essence.
This is starkly different to Aristotle’s view of human nature. Sartre argues that the individual project is thus not to actualise the natural human function, but to ‘invent’ oneself – one’s own telos – through their own choices and actions. This ‘subjective life’ distinguishes humans from other life forms: moss, cauliflower and fungi cannot choose to be otherwise than they are. Man, by contrast, is nothing other than what he chooses, utterly responsible for what he is.
A criticism that might be made of the existentialist thesis is that it leads to moral nihilism and anarchy. At least, Aristotle might argue, a universal human essence implies that all have a moral obligation to actualise it. His own argument is that fulfilling the rational function implies that one lives according to the ‘doctrine of the mean’, and so will be virtuous. But Sartre asserts – indeed, emphasises – that there are no objective moral values: humans are ‘abandoned’ in their search for meaning and purpose, so they are ‘condemned’ to invent themselves. But if any of the free choices that humans make in doing so are equally valid, then there are no moral principles by which all must abide; hence the charge of nihilism.
Sartre responds that we do not act in isolation, so the choices one makes are not merely one’s own. Rather, the choice I make implies a set of ‘human standards’ that, for my act to make sense, I suppose that anyone would act in a similar set of circumstances. This is why the abandonment of belief in the existence of God and the various essentialist substitutes leads to anguish: in fashioning ourselves, we fashion an image of humanity as a whole – a huge responsibility. This is why Abraham is anguished by the instruction from God’s angel to kill his son, Isaac: caught between two contradictory imperatives (to not kill, and to obey God’s instruction), his decision carries immense responsibility since it fashions mankind as a whole. Thus existentialism is not nihilistic, but carries moral responsibility.
But even if we accept this, it does not necessarily lead to a salvageable ethic. Hitler, one might argue, could be described as an authentic existentialist who was responsible for his choices. He invented an image of humankind based on his Aryan ideal that he willed to become universal, though most – including Sartre – recognise his actions as evil and immoral.
Sartre’s argument is that the way Hitler exercised his freedoms was not that of an authentic existentialist, since authentic freedom ‘wills the freedom of others’. But there is no reason that this new moral principle is derivative from the existentialist thesis; no reason that one who rejects the notion of an a priori moral code would accept the need to protect the freedom of others as a moral imperative.
But this resistance compromises the notion of what ‘authentic’ existentialist freedom comprises. Though commendable, it ultimately collapses – as Heidegger argues – back into a version of the essentialist thesis: the human essence is found in respecting the freedom of others in one’s own exercise of freedom.
Thus we see that Aristotle’s view of human nature, that ‘essence precedes existence’ is fallacious and unworkable. But Sartre’s existentialism does not offer a way out, collapsing either into nihilism or back into that very same thesis.
Result
Mark: 21/25 (Level 7)
Feedback:
This is better than you - ever modestly - suggest. The bridge - from nowhere! - is good, the explanations ×2 are succinct, & the discussion developed along interesting lines, save for my parting comment (develop [the conclusion] a bit - which holds most resources for thinking matter of human condition?)