NOW that the author has demonstrated that the development of the modern West is centred on material values, it is necessary to define what is meant by the term itself.
Realising that some people who choose to describe themselves as ‘modern’ do not necessarily consider themselves ‘materialistic,’ Guénon nonetheless makes a connection between the two in that they are interdependent:
It is significant in itself that the very word ‘materialism’ does not go any further back than the eighteenth century; it was invented by the philosopher Berkeley, who used it to designate any theory that accepted the real existence of matter; it is scarcely necessary to say that it is not this meaning of the word that concerns us here, since we are not raising the question of the existence of matter. A little later the same word took on a narrower meaning, the one in fact that it still retains: it came to denote a conception according to which nothing else exists but matter and its derivatives. (p.81)
George Berkeley’s (1685-1753) controversial theory of ‘immaterialization’ had set out to undermine the idea that the material realm exists in any form whatsoever, something that was to inspire the German Idealists a century later, but things took a more sinister turn once everything was reduced to the level of matter and this was effectively a complete reversal of the Anglo-Irish philosopher’s ideas.
There is, however, a far more significant interpretation of materialism and one which revolves around a ‘state of mind’ which
consists in more or less consciously putting material things, and the preoccupations arising out of them, in the first place, whether these preoccupations claim to be speculative or purely practical; and it cannot be seriously disputed that this is the mentality of the immense majority of our contemporaries. (p.82)
The scientism that developed in the wake of Berkeley and the German Idealists has been centred wholly on the sensible realm and therefore metaphysics is not up for discussion.
Ironically, perhaps, this one-sided attitude now appears in the domain of religion and has led some to speculate whether materialism is not simply a modern form of atheism. As Guénon explains, the
question has usually been badly put: it is quite certain that this science does not explicitly profess atheism or materialism, it merely, because of its prejudices, ignores certain things, without formally denying them, as this or that philosopher may have done; in connection with modern science, therefore, one can only speak of de facto materialism, or what might be called practical materialism; but the evil is perhaps even more serious, as it is deeper and more widespread. (p.82)
The Frenchman believes that those who fail to take into consideration any higher principle are either indifferent or in denial; the first being infinitely more dangerous in the sense that it has absolutely no perception of anything which lies outside of its own narrow world-view. Rather than a metapolitical thought being actively suppressed, the thought does not arise at all.
Similarly, when materialism
claims to be the only science possible, and when men are accustomed to accept, as an unquestionable truth, that there can be no valid knowledge outside this science, and when all the education they receive tends to instil into them the superstition of this science — or ‘scientism’ as it should really be called — how could these men not in fact be materialists, or in other words, how could they fail to have all their preoccupations turned in the direction of matter? (p.83)
Even when scientists and philosophers do find themselves entertaining thoughts of a more transcendent nature they are quick to attribute such notions to the purely mechanistic activity of the human brain. Even Kant and the Idealist thinkers that followed soon afterwards, he contends, were only creating a ‘transposed materialism’. This is slightly unfair, to say the least, particularly as the Romantic philosophers were also in favour of applying ‘intellectual intuition,’ although Guénon does accept that they were making a last-ditch stand against the more aggressive materialism that arrived in the latter part of the nineteenth century.
Such matters are not confined to the domain of science and philosophy, of course, and this attitude has spread throughout Western society to the extent that modern
persons in general cannot conceive of any other science than that of things that can be measured, counted, and weighed, in other words material things, since it is to these alone that the quantitative point of view can be applied; the claim to reduce quality to quantity is very typical of modern science. This tendency has reached the point of supposing that there can be no science, in the real meaning of the word, except where it is possible to introduce measurement, and that there can be no scientific laws except those that express quantitative relations. (p.84)
The role of Descartes has already been mentioned, of course, and Cartesian dualism has led to such an antagonistic approach to anything outside the sphere of matter that if something cannot be weighed, measured and labelled then it is considered unimportant.
It is unclear how familiar Guénon was with the events that took place in Anglo-Saxon England during the Autumn of 1066, but as we know from the Domesday Book when the Normans invaded the country their tendency to weigh up both its people and their possessions merely in terms of financial worth was a classic case of what Martin Heidegger (1889-1976) later described as ‘enframing’ (Das Gestell). This idea first came to light during the course of the German philosopher’s 1954 work on The Question Concerning Technology and perhaps the simplest way to explain the Heideggerian concept of ‘enframing’ would be to imagine nature being quantified in a purely exploitative fashion. A field of animals, for example, might be viewed by humans as a shop window display in a butcher’s shop or a large tree seen as a potential row of wooden pews.
As Guénon reminds his readers, this particular form of materialism
is not necessarily connected with philosophical materialism, which, in fact, it preceded in the development of the tendencies inherent in the modern outlook. We will not dwell on the mistake of seeking to reduce quality to quantity, or on the inadequacy of all attempts at explanation that are more or less of the ‘mechanistic’ type. That is not our present purpose, and we will remark only, in this connection, that even in the sensible order, a science of this kind has but little connection with reality, the greater part of which is bound to elude it. (p.85)
That same reality, for most people, goes no further than the sensible world itself and is thus based solely on what can be detected by the senses. Guénon even accuses the modern scientist of harbouring a ‘false intellectuality’ that does not proceed beyond examining observable phenomena in terms of its practical use.
Despite what I have said about the pronounced materialism of the eleventh-century Normans, something that transformed England completely, Guénon is determined to speak of an ‘Anglo-Saxon empiricism’ that managed to extract what it wanted from the sciences to create a form of hard-nosed pragmatism. Ironically, the Normans – who were originally of Scandinavian extraction – had exported this mentality from Guénon’s own homeland. Nonetheless, it is something that took root among those English who found themselves under the despised rule of successive Norman monarchies and eventually found its way to the United States.
When science is used for purely practical purposes, therefore, it quickly appeals to the fickle transience of the mass-mind and this is what
gives it so much prestige in the eyes of the general public, because here again are things that can be seen and touched. We have said that pragmatism represents the outcome of all modern philosophy, and the last stage in its decline; but outside philosophy there is also, and has been for a long time, a widespread and unsystematized prag-matism that is to philosophical pragmatism what practical is to theoretical materialism, and which is really the same as what people call ‘common sense’. (p.86)
‘Common sense,’ for Guénon, is based on the fallacious notion that reality is having one’s feet on the ground and dismissing anything which is not immediately applicable to one’s earthly desires.
The importance of instant practicality in the modern world has also transformed science into the institutional slave of industry and technology:
Under such conditions, industry is no longer merely an application of science, an application from which science should, in itself, remain completely independent; it has become the reason for, and justification of, science to such an extent that here too the normal relations between things have been reversed. (p.87)
We saw this in 2020 and 2021, for example, when the so-called ‘race’ to produce a vaccination for Covid-19 led scientists to prostrate themselves before the fat cats of the pharmaceutical industry in a quest to secure wealth and funding.
Guénon makes the crucial point that science is no longer the domain of intellectuals and by focussing on the production of new technological gadgetry its chemists, physicists and technicians are themselves no better than automatons:
Very different from the craftsmen of former times, they have become mere slaves of machines with which they may be said to form part of a single body. In a purely mechanical way they have constantly to repeat certain specific movements, which are always the same and always performed in the same way, so as to avoid the slightest loss of time; such at least is required by the most modern methods which are supposed to represent the most advanced stage of ‘progress’. Indeed, the object is merely to produce as much as possible; quality matters little, it is quantity alone that is of importance, which brings us back once more to the remark we have already made in other contexts, namely, that modern civilization may truly be called a quantitative civilization, and this is merely another way of saying it is a material civilization. (p.87)
The modern preoccupation with economic affairs, the author tells us, is reflected in the way that politicians are controlled by financial powers and that history is determined by issues pertaining to wealth and the acquisition of material resources. Even Marxism, which is presented as an alternative to capitalism, is based on a ‘historical materialism’ that transforms the narrative of humanity into the short-sighted theory that economic relations are the driving-force of history itself. Marxism, naturally, realised that by limiting its energies to the sphere of economics it could appeal to the materialist sensibilities of the modern herd. Meanwhile, the
masses are made to believe that they are not being led, but that they are acting spontaneously and governing themselves, and the fact that they believe this is a sign from which the extent of their stupidity may be inferred. (p.88)
Guénon’s earlier point about modern civilisation being centred on multiplicity and division in important here, as the result of capitalist economics is a bitter war of all-against-all. Despite the material achievements of science and industry, we see poverty and slavery in the midst of plenty and yet as long as people have access to fast food, fast cars, fast sex and a fast internet connection they are prepared to turn a blind eye to the shortcomings of the system in which these things are encouraged.
As for the role of materialism in the fragile relationship between the West and its Eastern counterparts, the author says that
if Easterners bring themselves to accept this industry as an unpleasant and transitory necessity, it will only be as a weapon to enable them to resist the invasion of the West and to safeguard their own existence. It should be clearly understood that this is bound to be so: Easterners who bring themselves to consider economic competition with the West, despite the repugnance they feel for this kind of activity, can do so only with one purpose, namely to rid themselves of a foreign domination that is based on mere brute force, and on the material power that industry itself supplies; violence breeds violence, but it should be recognized that it is certainly not the Easterners who have sought war in this field. (p.89)
Guénon’s words are certainly very prophetic, although it can reasonably be argued that whilst China has developed its own vast industrial and technological base countries like India are post-colonialist in the sense that they are clearly an extension of Western interests.
One of the more horrifying areas in which materialism operates is the theatre of war. Having lived through the First World War, when Europe became witness to unprecedented levels of technological conflict for the first time, the Frenchman was not only aware of the physical and psychological dangers but also under no illusions about the immense hypocrisy that characterises warfare itself. In fact extreme aggression of this kind
should be enough to shatter the ‘pacifist’ dreams of some of the admirers of modernist ‘progress’; but the dreamers and idealists are incorrigible, and their gullibility seems to know no bounds. The ‘humanitarianism’ that is so much in fashion is certainly not worth taking seriously; but it is strange that people should talk so much about ending all war at a time when the ravages it causes are greater than they have ever been, not only because the means of destruction have been multiplied, but also because, as wars are no longer fought between comparatively small armies composed solely of professional soldiers, all the individuals on both sides are flung against each other indiscriminately, including those who are the least qualified for this kind of function. (p.89)
As incredible as it sounds, and the author makes the point very well, modern combat is seen as a ‘necessary evil’ that somehow goes hand-in-hand with warped notions of human progress.
The rift between the spiritual and material worlds means that warfare is no longer held in check by a higher principle which, in the case of the Catholic Church, either gave its assent to a ‘just war’ or opposed it on moral grounds. There is no spiritual authority in the age of practical materialism and religion is safely confined to a realm of non-economic affairs in which ‘pragmatism’ is left to others.
Guénon is perfectly cognizant of the fact that material civilisation often brings many ‘benefits,’ but the
sight of consequences such as those just mentioned leads one to question whether they are not far outweighed by the inconveniences. We say this without referring to the many things of incomparably greater value that have been sacrificed to this one form of development — we do not speak of the higher knowledge that has been forgotten, the intellectuality that has been overthrown, and the spirituality that has disappeared. (p.90)
There is a huge price to be paid for practicality and technological convenience, possibly the biggest price of all. In fact one must question whether the ‘benefits’ themselves are really that beneficial or whether it is simply an illusion for those in the shadows who stand to gain from it all.
For those of us who want no part of the modern world, it is becoming increasingly difficult to extricate ourselves from it. Indeed, Guénon realised almost a century ago that
not all men have the same tastes or the same needs, and that there are still some who would wish to avoid modern commotion and the craving for speed, but who can no longer do so. Could anyone presume to maintain that it is a ‘benefit’ to these people to have thrust on them what is most contrary to their nature? (p.91)
Such people may be few and far between, perhaps, but he suggests that this cannot be an excuse for the purveyors of Western materialism to force themselves on those who do not share their values. Unfortunately, however, it
is in the name of their ‘superiority’ that these ‘egalitarians’ seek to impose their civilization on the rest of the world, and that they bring trouble to people who have never asked them for anything; and, since this ‘superiority’ exists only from the material point of view, it is quite natural that the most brutal means are used to assert it. (pp.91-92)
As those of us who have lived through the oil industry’s conquests of the Middle East know only too well, endlessly regurgitated phrases such as ‘you’re either with us or against us’ or ‘must accept democracy or face the consequences’ have become the rhetorical sound-bites of Western imperialism. As the author explains, it
is really an extraordinary epoch in which so many men can be made to believe that a people is being given happiness by being reduced to subjection, by being robbed of all that is most precious to it, that is to say of its own civilization, by being forced to adopt manners and institutions that were made for a different race, and by being constrained to the most distasteful kinds of work, in order to make it acquire things for which it has not the slightest use. (p.92)
What Guénon incorrectly describes as an ‘Anglo-Saxon’ trait is really the result of Jewish high finance, not that Europe’s monarchies were not complicit in allowing a foreign cabal to get its hands on the purse-strings. Nonetheless, the Western world that has chiefly been administered by the political mannequins of England and the United States has adopted a distinct mentality of its own and this can be seen in the exaggerated elevation of sport to the great detriment of intellectuality and the domination of the cerebral by the brutish.
If economics must be considered the be-all-and-end-all of human progress, then surely we must assess the situation from the perspective of its material achievements?
Is it true that, because they dispose of swifter means of communication and other things of the kind, and because of their more agitated and complicated manner of life, men are happier today than they were formerly? The very opposite seems to us to be true: disequilibrium cannot be a condition of real happiness. Moreover, the more needs a man has, the greater the likelihood that he will lack something, and thereby be unhappy; modern civilization aims at creating more and more artificial needs, and as we have already said, it will always create more needs than it can satisfy, for once one has started on this path, it is very hard to stop, and, indeed, there is no reason for stopping at any particular point. (p.93)
Those things we regard as ‘necessary’ today, therefore, would have been viewed as perfectly useless or irrelevant in times past. Such is relativism, of course, meaning that once the desire for something new or fashionable has been planted in the human brain it stimulates a ‘need’ to begin making money. Without this artificial cattle-prod, the average individual would go no further than to satisfy the basic requirements of himself, his family and his community.
The modern lifestyle will lead to the collapse of material civilisation itself and, for Guénon, this is a lesson that appears in Christian scripture:
The Gospel says ‘all they that take the sword shall perish by the sword’; those who unchain the brute forces of matter will perish, crushed by these same forces, of which they will no longer be masters; having once imprudently set them in motion, they cannot hope to hold back indefinitely their fatal course. It is of little consequence whether it be the forces of nature or the forces of the human mob, or both together; in any case it is the laws of matter that are called into play, and that will inexorably destroy him who has aspired to dominate them without raising himself above matter. (p.94)
Modern religion, itself reduced to a rather tepid and ineffectual affair, nonetheless survives and Guénon views its unremitting endurance in the face of adversity as a sign of hope. He is aware that religion has been compromised and at great cost, not to mention the fact that the West is now decidedly ‘anti-Christian’ and ‘anti-religious,’ but still insists that
something of Christianity has passed even into the anti-Christian civilization of our time, even the most ‘advanced’ of whose representatives, to use their own jargon, cannot help, involuntarily and perhaps unconsciously, having undergone and still undergoing a certain Christian influence, though an indirect one; however radical a breach with the past may be, it can never be quite complete and such as to break all continuity. (p.95)
Such a position, viewed from the perspective of the twenty-first century, may seem very idealistic and yet it might be said that a more Traditional Catholicism has since persevered in the form of the Lefebvrist and Sedevacantist tendencies that have strongly rejected the Novus Ordo of the Second Vatican Council and remained highly critical of the succession of modernist popes that have appeared thereafter.
Guénon, despite abandoning this stance several years later, even forged ties with leading Catholics such as Jacques Maritain (1882-1973) and Louis Charbonneau-Lassay (1871-1946), writing articles for the latter’s Regnabit journal. Although Charbonneau-Lassay shared Guénon’s view that remnants of Tradition could be found in various religions, including Catholicism, there is perhaps a degree of irony in the fact that Maritain later demanded that works such as The Crisis of the Modern World be added to the Church’s notorious Index of Forbidden Books.
Nonetheless, in 1927 he was perfectly adamant that if the Catholic Church did finally succumb to the forces of materialism such an eventuality would represent the very culmination of Western decline.
