The road of a philosopher to their truth
feels to them like the first 
carefully orchestrated 
steps
on a new beach

looking back
they see clearly their path
…
let everybody
make their reasonable first steps 
in the sand

 

Friedrich Nietzsche

Beyond Good and Evil

Section one on the prejudices of philosophers

5. What causes philosophers to be regarded half-distrustfully and half-mockingly is not the oft-repeated discovery of how innocent they are, how often and easily they make mistakes and lose their way, in short, how childish and childlike they are—but that there is not enough honest dealing with them, whereas they all raise a loud and virtuous outcry when the problem of truthfulness is even hinted at in the remotest manner. They all pose as though their real opinions had been discovered and attained through the self-evolving of a cold, pure, divinely indifferent dialectic (in contrast to all sorts of mystics, who, fairer and foolisher, talk of “inspiration”); whereas, in fact, a prejudiced proposition, idea, or “suggestion,” which is generally their heart’s desire abstracted and refined, is defended by them with arguments sought out after the event. They are all advocates who do not wish to be regarded as such, generally astute defenders of their prejudices, which they dub “truths”—and very far from having the conscience that bravely admits this to itself; very far from having the good taste of the courage that goes so far as to let this be understood, perhaps to warn friend or foe, or in cheerful confidence and self-ridicule. The spectacle of the Tartuffery of old Kant, equally stiff and decent, with which he entices us into the dialectical byways that lead (more correctly, mislead) to his “categorical imperative”—makes us fastidious ones smile, we who find no small amusement in spying out the subtle tricks of old moralists and ethical preachers. Or, still more so, the hocuspocus of mathematical form, by means of which Spinoza has, as it were, clad his philosophy in mail and mask—in fact, the “love of his wisdom,” to translate the term fairly and squarely—in order thereby to strike terror at once into the heart of the assailant who should dare to cast a glance on that invincible maiden, that Pallas Athene:—how much of personal timidity and vulnerability does this masquerade of a sickly recluse betray!

Translated by Helen Zimmern, 1909