{"schema_version":1,"access":"public","rights":"Public-domain or compatibly licensed source editions; provenance is retained per record.","work":{"slug":"kant-enlightenment","title":"An Answer to the Question: What Is Enlightenment?","author":"Immanuel Kant","tradition":"european","language":"de","genre":"philosophical essay","period":"1784","source_url":"https://de.wikisource.org/w/index.php?oldid=3778353","original":{"text":"### Essay\n\n[481] Beantwortung der Frage:\n\n*Was ist Aufklärung?*\n\n(S. Decemb. 1783. S. 516.)\n\n*Aufklärung ist der Ausgang des Menschen aus seiner selbst verschuldeten Unmündigkeit*. *Unmündigkeit* ist das Unvermögen, sich seines Verstandes ohne Leitung eines anderen zu bedienen. *Selbstverschuldet* ist diese Unmündigkeit, wenn die Ursache derselben nicht am Mangel des Verstandes, sondern der Entschließung und des Muthes liegt, sich seiner ohne Leitung eines andern zu bedienen. *Sapere aude!* Habe Muth dich deines *eigenen* Verstandes zu bedienen! ist also der Wahlspruch der Aufklärung.\n\nFaulheit und Feigheit sind die Ursachen, warum ein so großer Theil der Menschen, nachdem sie die Natur längst von fremder Leitung frei gesprochen\n[482] *(naturaliter majorennes)*, dennoch gerne Zeitlebens unmündig bleiben; und warum es Anderen so leicht wird, sich zu deren Vormündern aufzuwerfen. Es ist so bequem, unmündig zu sein. Habe ich ein Buch, das für mich Verstand hat, einen Seelsorger, der für mich Gewissen hat, einen Arzt der für mich die Diät beurtheilt, u. s. w. so brauche ich mich ja nicht selbst zu bemühen. Ich habe nicht nöthig zu denken, wenn ich nur bezahlen kann; andere werden das verdrießliche Geschäft schon für mich übernehmen. Daß der bei weitem größte Theil der Menschen (darunter das ganze schöne Geschlecht) den Schritt zur Mündigkeit, außer dem daß er beschwerlich ist, auch für sehr gefährlich halte: dafür sorgen schon jene Vormünder, die die Oberaufsicht über sie gütigst auf sich genommen haben. Nachdem sie ihr Hausvieh zuerst dumm gemacht haben, und sorgfältig verhüteten, daß diese ruhigen Geschöpfe ja keinen Schritt außer dem Gängelwagen, darin sie sie einsperreten, wagen durften; so zeigen sie ihnen nachher die Gefahr, die ihnen drohet, wenn sie es versuchen allein zu gehen. Nun ist diese Gefahr zwar eben so groß nicht, denn sie würden durch einigemahl Fallen wohl endlich gehen lernen; allein ein Beispiel von der Art macht doch schüchtern, und schrekt gemeiniglich von allen ferneren Versuchen ab.\n\nEs ist also für jeden einzelnen Menschen schwer, sich aus der ihm beinahe zur Natur gewordenen Unmündigkeit [483] herauszuarbeiten. Er hat sie sogar lieb gewonnen, und ist vor der Hand wirklich unfähig, sich seines eigenen Verstandes zu bedienen, weil man ihn niemals den Versuch davon machen ließ. Satzungen und Formeln, diese mechanischen Werkzeuge eines vernünftigen Gebrauchs oder vielmehr Mißbrauchs seiner Naturgaben, sind die Fußschellen einer immerwährenden Unmündigkeit. Wer sie auch abwürfe, würde dennoch auch über den schmalesten Graben einen nur unsicheren Sprung thun, weil er zu dergleichen freier Bewegung nicht gewöhnt ist. Daher giebt es nur Wenige, denen es gelungen ist, durch eigene Bearbeitung ihres Geistes sich aus der Unmündigkeit heraus zu wikkeln, und dennoch einen sicheren Gang zu thun.\n\nDaß aber ein Publikum sich selbst aufkläre, ist eher möglich; ja es ist, wenn man ihm nur Freiheit läßt, beinahe unausbleiblich. Denn da werden sich immer einige Selbstdenkende, sogar unter den eingesetzten Vormündern des großen Haufens, finden, welche, nachdem sie das Joch der Unmündigkeit selbst abgeworfen haben, den Geist einer vernünftigen Schätzung des eigenen Werths und des Berufs jedes Menschen selbst zu denken um sich verbreiten werden. Besonders ist hiebei: daß das Publikum, welches zuvor von ihnen unter dieses Joch gebracht worden, sie hernach selbst zwingt darunter zu bleiben, wenn es von einigen seiner Vormünder, die selbst aller Aufklärung unfähig sind, dazu aufgewiegelt [484] worden; so schädlich ist es Vorurtheile zu pflanzen, weil sie sich zuletzt an denen selbst rächen, die, oder deren Vorgänger, ihre Urheber gewesen sind. Daher kann ein Publikum nur langsam zur Aufklärung gelangen. Durch eine Revolution wird vielleicht wohl ein Abfall von persönlichem Despotism und gewinnsüchtiger oder herrschsüchtiger Bedrükkung, aber niemals wahre Reform der Denkungsart zu Stande kommen; sondern neue Vorurtheile werden, eben sowohl als die alten, zum Leitbande des gedankenlosen großen Haufens dienen.\n\nZu dieser Aufklärung aber wird nichts erfordert als *Freiheit;* und zwar die unschädlichste unter allem, was nur Freiheit heißen mag, nämlich die: von seiner Vernunft in allen Stükken *öffentlichen Gebrauch* zu machen. Nun höre ich aber von allen Seiten rufen: *räsonnirt nicht!* Der Offizier sagt: räsonnirt nicht, sondern exercirt! Der Finanzrath: räsonnirt nicht, sondern bezahlt! Der Geistliche: räsonnirt nicht, sondern glaubt! (Nur ein einziger Herr in der Welt sagt: *räsonnirt,* so viel ihr wollt, und worüber ihr wollt; *aber gehorcht!*) Hier ist überall Einschränkung der Freiheit. Welche Einschränkung aber ist der Aufklärung hinderlich? welche nicht, sondern ihr wohl gar beförderlich? – Ich antworte: der *öffentliche* Gebrauch seiner Vernunft muß jederzeit frei sein, und der allein kann Aufklärung unter Menschen zu [485] Stande bringen; der *Privatgebrauch* derselben aber darf öfters sehr enge eingeschränkt sein, ohne doch darum den Fortschritt der Aufklärung sonderlich zu hindern. Ich verstehe aber unter dem öffentlichen Gebrauche seiner eigenen Vernunft denjenigen, den jemand *als Gelehrter* von ihr vor dem ganzen Publikum der *Leserwelt* macht. Den Privatgebrauch nenne ich denjenigen, den er in einem gewissen ihm anvertrauten *bürgerlichen Posten*, oder Amte, von seiner Vernunft machen darf. Nun ist zu manchen Geschäften, die in das Interesse des gemeinen Wesens laufen, ein gewisser Mechanism nothwendig, vermittelst dessen einige Glieder des gemeinen Wesens sich bloß passiv verhalten müssen, um durch eine künstliche Einhelligkeit von der Regierung zu öffentlichen Zwekken gerichtet, oder wenigstens von der Zerstörung dieser Zwekke abgehalten zu werden. Hier ist es nun freilich nicht erlaubt, zu räsonniren; sondern man muß gehorchen. So fern sich aber dieser Theil der Maschine zugleich als Glied eines ganzen gemeinen Wesens, ja sogar der Weltbürgergesellschaft ansieht, mithin in der Qualität eines Gelehrten, der sich an ein Publikum im eigentlichen Verstande durch Schriften wendet; kann er allerdings räsonniren, ohne daß dadurch die Geschäfte leiden, zu denen er zum Theile als passives Glied angesetzt ist. So würde es sehr verderblich sein, wenn ein Offizier, dem von seinen Oberen etwas anbefohlen wird, im Dienste [486] über die Zwekmäßigkeit oder Nützlichkeit dieses Befehls laut vernünfteln wollte; er muß gehorchen. Es kann ihm aber billigermaßen nicht verwehrt werden, als Gelehrter, über die Fehler im Kriegesdienste Anmerkungen zu machen, und diese seinem Publikum zur Beurtheilung vorzulegen. Der Bürger kann sich nicht weigern, die ihm auferlegten Abgaben zu leisten; sogar kann ein vorwitziger Tadel solcher Auflagen, wenn sie von ihm geleistet werden sollen, als ein Skandal (das allgemeine Widersetzlichkeiten veranlassen könnte) bestraft werden. Eben derselbe handelt demohngeachtet der Pflicht eines Bürgers nicht entgegen, wenn er, als Gelehrter, wider die Unschiklichkeit oder auch Ungerechtigkeit solcher Ausschreibungen öffentlich seine Gedanken äußert. Eben so ist ein Geistlicher verbunden, seinen Katechismusschülern und seiner Gemeine nach dem Symbol der Kirche, der er dient, seinen Vortrag zu thun; denn er ist auf diese Bedingung angenommen worden. Aber als Gelehrter hat er volle Freiheit, ja sogar den Beruf dazu, alle seine sorgfältig geprüften und wohlmeinenden Gedanken über das Fehlerhafte in jenem Symbol, und Vorschläge wegen besserer Einrichtung des Religions- und Kirchenwesens, dem Publikum mitzutheilen. Es ist hiebei auch nichts, was dem Gewissen zur Last gelegt werden könnte. Denn, was er zu Folge seines Amts, als Geschäftträger der Kirche, lehrt, das stellt er als etwas vor, in Ansehung [487] dessen er nicht freie Gewalt hat nach eigenem Gutdünken zu lehren, sondern das er nach Vorschrift und im Namen eines andern vorzutragen angestellt ist. Er wird sagen: unsere Kirche lehrt dieses oder jenes; das sind die Beweisgründe, deren sie sich bedient. Er zieht alsdann allen praktischen Nutzen für seine Gemeinde aus Satzungen, die er selbst nicht mit voller Ueberzeugung unterschreiben würde, zu deren Vortrag er sich gleichwohl anheischig machen kann, weil es doch nicht ganz unmöglich ist, daß darin Wahrheit verborgen läge, auf alle Fälle aber wenigstens doch nichts der innern Religion widersprechendes darin angetroffen wird. Denn glaubte er das letztere darin zu finden, so würde er sein Amt mit Gewissen nicht verwalten können; er müßte es niederlegen. Der Gebrauch also, den ein angestellter Lehrer von seiner Vernunft vor seiner Gemeinde macht, ist bloß ein *Privatgebrauch;* weil diese immer nur eine häusliche, obzwar noch so große, Versammlung ist; und in Ansehung dessen ist er, als Priester, nicht frei, und darf es auch nicht sein, weil er einen fremden Auftrag ausrichtet. Dagegen als Gelehrter, der durch Schriften zum eigentlichen Publikum, nämlich der Welt, spricht, mithin der Geistliche im *öffentlichen Gebrauche* seiner Vernunft, genießt einer uneingeschränkten Freiheit, sich seiner eigenen Vernunft zu bedienen und in seiner eigenen Person zu sprechen. Denn daß die Vormünder des Volks [488] (in geistlichen Dingen) selbst wieder unmündig sein sollen, ist eine Ungereimtheit, die auf Verewigung der Ungereimtheiten hinausläuft.\n\nAber sollte nicht eine Gesellschaft von Geistlichen, etwa eine Kirchenversammlung, oder eine ehrwürdige Klassis (wie sie sich unter den Holländern selbst nennt) berechtigt sein, sich eidlich unter einander auf ein gewisses unveränderliches Symbol zu verpflichten, um so eine unaufhörliche Obervormundschaft über jedes ihrer Glieder und vermittelst ihrer über das Volk zu führen, und diese so gar zu verewigen? Ich sage: das ist ganz unmöglich. Ein solcher Kontrakt, der auf immer alle weitere Aufklärung vom Menschengeschlechte abzuhalten geschlossen würde, ist schlechterdings null und nichtig; und sollte er auch durch die oberste Gewalt, durch Reichstäge und die feierlichsten Friedensschlüsse bestätigt sein. Ein Zeitalter kann sich nicht verbünden und darauf verschwören, das folgende in einen Zustand zu setzen, darin es ihm unmöglich werden muß, seine (vornehmlich so sehr angelegentliche) Erkenntnisse zu erweitern, von Irrthümern zu reinigen, und überhaupt in der Aufklärung weiter zu schreiten. Das wäre ein Verbrechen wider die menschliche Natur, deren ursprüngliche Bestimmung gerade in diesem Fortschreiten besteht; und die Nachkommen sind also vollkommen dazu berechtigt, jene Beschlüsse, als unbefugter und frevelhafter Weise genommen, zu verwerfen. Der Probierstein [489] alles dessen, was über ein Volk als Gesetz beschlossen werden kann, liegt in der Frage: ob ein Volk sich selbst wohl ein solches Gesetz auferlegen könnte? Nun wäre dieses wohl, gleichsam in der Erwartung eines bessern, auf eine bestimmte kurze Zeit möglich, um eine gewisse Ordnung einzuführen; indem man es zugleich jedem der Bürger, vornehmlich dem Geistlichen, frei ließe, in der Qualität eines Gelehrten öffentlich, d. i. durch Schriften, über das Fehlerhafte der dermaligen Einrichtung seine Anmerkungen zu machen, indessen die eingeführte Ordnung noch immer fortdauerte, bis die Einsicht in die Beschaffenheit dieser Sachen öffentlich so weit gekommen und bewähret worden, daß sie durch Vereinigung ihrer Stimmen (wenn gleich nicht aller) einen Vorschlag vor den Thron bringen könnte, um diejenigen Gemeinden in Schutz zu nehmen, die sich etwa nach ihren Begriffen der besseren Einsicht zu einer veränderten Religionseinrichtung geeinigt hätten, ohne doch diejenigen zu hindern, die es beim Alten wollten bewenden lassen. Aber auf eine beharrliche, von Niemanden öffentlich zu bezweifelnde Religionsverfassung, auch nur binnen der Lebensdauer eines Menschen, sich zu einigen, und dadurch einen Zeitraum in dem Fortgange der Menschheit zur Verbesserung gleichsam zu vernichten, und fruchtlos, dadurch aber wohl gar der Nachkommenschaft nachtheilig, zu machen, ist schlechterdings unerlaubt. Ein Mensch kann zwar für seine Person, [490] und auch alsdann nur auf einige Zeit, in dem was ihm zu wissen obliegt die Aufklärung aufschieben; aber auf sie Verzicht zu thun, es sei für seine Person, mehr aber noch für die Nachkommenschaft, heißt die heiligen Rechte der Menschheit verletzen und mit Füßen treten. Was aber nicht einmal ein Volk über sich selbst beschließen darf, das darf noch weniger ein Monarch über das Volk beschließen; denn sein gesetzgebendes Ansehen beruht eben darauf, daß er den gesammten Volkswillen in dem seinigen vereinigt. Wenn er nur darauf sieht, daß alle wahre oder vermeinte Verbesserung mit der bürgerlichen Ordnung zusammen bestehe; so kann er seine Unterthanen übrigens nur selbst machen lassen, was sie um ihres Seelenheils willen zu thun nöthig finden; das geht ihn nichts an, wohl aber zu verhüten, daß nicht einer den andern gewaltthätig hindere, an der Bestimmung und Beförderung desselben nach allem seinen Vermögen zu arbeiten. Es thut selbst seiner Majestät Abbruch, wenn er sich hierin mischt, indem er die Schriften, wodurch seine Unterthanen ihre Einsichten ins Reine zu bringen suchen, seiner Regierungsaufsicht würdigt, sowohl wenn er dieses aus eigener höchsten Einsicht thut, wo er sich dem Vorwurfe aussetzt: *Caesar non est supra Grammaticos,* als auch und noch weit mehr, wenn er seine oberste Gewalt so weit erniedrigt, den geistlichen Despotism einiger Tyrannen [491] in seinem Staate gegen seine übrigen Unterthanen zu unterstützen.\n\nWenn denn nun gefragt wird: Leben wir jetzt in einem *aufgeklärten* Zeitalter? so ist die Antwort: Nein, aber wohl in einem Zeitalter der *Aufklärung*. Daß die Menschen, wie die Sachen jetzt stehen, im Ganzen genommen, schon im Stande wären, oder darin auch nur gesetzt werden könnten, in Religionsdingen sich ihres eigenen Verstandes ohne Leitung eines Andern sicher und gut zu bedienen, daran fehlt noch sehr viel. Allein, daß jetzt ihnen doch das Feld geöffnet wird, sich dahin frei zu bearbeiten, und die Hindernisse der allgemeinen Aufklärung, oder des Ausganges aus ihrer selbst verschuldeten Unmündigkeit, allmälig weniger werden, davon haben wir doch deutliche Anzeigen. In diesem Betracht ist dieses Zeitalter das Zeitalter der Aufklärung, oder das Jahrhundert *Friederichs*.\n\nEin Fürst, der es seiner nicht unwürdig findet, zu sagen: daß er es für *Pflicht* halte, in Religionsdingen den Menschen nichts vorzuschreiben, sondern ihnen darin volle Freiheit zu lassen, der also selbst den hochmüthigen Namen der *Toleranz* von sich ablehnt: ist selbst aufgeklärt, und verdient von der dankbaren Welt und Nachwelt als derjenige gepriesen zu werden, der zuerst das menschliche Geschlecht der Unmündigkeit, wenigstens von Seiten der Regierung, entschlug, und Jedem frei ließ, sich [492] \nin allem, was Gewissensangelegenheit ist, seiner eigenen Vernunft zu bedienen. Unter ihm dürfen verehrungswürdige Geistliche, unbeschadet ihrer Amtspflicht, ihre vom angenommenen Symbol hier oder da abweichenden Urtheile und Einsichten, in der Qualität der Gelehrten, frei und öffentlich der Welt zur Prüfung darlegen; noch mehr aber jeder andere, der durch keine Amtspflicht eingeschränkt ist. Dieser Geist der Freiheit breitet sich auch außerhalb aus, selbst da, wo er mit äußeren Hindernissen einer sich selbst mißverstehenden Regierung zu ringen hat. Denn es leuchtet dieser doch ein Beispiel vor, daß bei Freiheit, für die öffentliche Ruhe und Einigkeit des gemeinen Wesens nicht das mindeste zu besorgen sei. Die Menschen arbeiten sich von selbst nach und nach aus der Rohigkeit heraus, wenn man nur nicht absichtlich künstelt, um sie darin zu erhalten.\n\nIch habe den Hauptpunkt der Aufklärung, die des Ausganges der Menschen aus ihrer selbst verschuldeten Unmündigkeit, vorzüglich *in Religionssachen* gesetzt: weil in Ansehung der Künste und Wissenschaften unsere Beherrscher kein Interesse haben, den Vormund über ihre Unterthanen zu spielen; überdem auch jene Unmündigkeit, so wie die schädlichste, also auch die entehrendste unter allen ist. Aber die Denkungsart eines Staatsoberhaupts, der die erstere begünstigt, geht noch weiter, und sieht ein: daß selbst in Ansehung seiner *Gesetzgebung* [493] es ohne Gefahr sei, seinen Unterthanen zu erlauben, von ihrer eigenen Vernunft *öffentlichen* Gebrauch zu machen, und ihre Gedanken über eine bessere Abfassung derselben, sogar mit einer freimüthigen Kritik der schon gegebenen, der Welt öffentlich vorzulegen; davon wir ein glänzendes Beispiel haben, wodurch noch kein Monarch demjenigen vorging, welchen wir verehren.\n\nAber auch nur derjenige, der, selbst aufgeklärt, sich nicht vor Schatten fürchtet, zugleich aber ein wohldisciplinirtes zahlreiches Heer zum Bürgen der öffentlichen Ruhe zur Hand hat, – kann das sagen, was ein Freistaat nicht wagen darf: *räsonnirt so viel ihr wollt, und worüber ihr wollt; nur gehorcht!* So zeigt sich hier ein befremdlicher nicht erwarteter Gang menschlicher Dinge; so wie auch sonst, wenn man ihn im Großen betrachtet, darin fast alles paradox ist. Ein größerer Grad bürgerlicher Freiheit scheint der Freiheit des *Geistes* des Volks vortheilhaft, und setzt ihr doch unübersteigliche Schranken; ein Grad weniger von jener verschaft hingegen diesem Raum, sich nach allem seinen Vermögen auszubreiten. Wenn denn die Natur unter dieser harten Hülle den Keim, für den sie am zärtlichsten sorgt, nämlich den Hang und Beruf zum *freien Denken,* ausgewikkelt hat; so wirkt dieser allmählig zurük auf die Sinnesart des Volks (wodurch dieses der *Freiheit zu handeln* \n[494] nach und nach fähiger wird), und endlich auch sogar auf die Grundsätze der *Regierung,* die es ihr selbst zuträglich findet, den Menschen, der nun mehr als Maschine ist, seiner Würde gemäß zu behandeln.[1]\n\n*I. Kant.*\n\nKönigsberg in Preußen, den 30. \nSeptemb. 1784.\n\n[1] In den *Büsching*’schen wöchentlichen Nachrichten vom 13. Sept. lese ich heute den 30sten eben dess. die Anzeige der Berlinischen Monatsschrift von diesem Monat, worin des Herrn *Mendelssohn* Beantwortung eben derselben Frage angeführt wird. Mir ist sie noch nicht zu Händen gekommen; sonst würde sie die gegenwärtige zurükgehalten haben, die jetzt nur zum Versuche da stehen mag, wiefern der Zufall Einstimmigkeit der Gedanken zuwege bringen könne.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/kant-enlightenment/original.txt"},"translations":[{"id":"trn_kant_enlightenment_mouseia","translator":"Mouseia","kind":"curated","note":"Machine-assisted translation directly from the German first printing, Berlinische Monatsschrift (December 1784), pages 481–494, including Kant's note. German Wikisource transcription, revision 3778353, CC BY-SA 4.0.","text":"### Essay\n\n[481] An Answer to the Question:\n\n*What Is Enlightenment?*\n\n(See December 1783, p. 516.)\n\n*Enlightenment is the human being’s emergence from self-incurred immaturity*. *Immaturity* is the inability to use one’s understanding without another’s guidance. This immaturity is *self-incurred* when its cause lies not in a lack of understanding, but in a lack of resolve and courage to use it without another’s guidance. *Sapere aude!* Have the courage to use your *own* understanding! That, then, is the motto of enlightenment.\n\nLaziness and cowardice are the reasons why so great a part of humanity, long after nature has released them from the guidance of others [482] *(naturaliter majorennes)*—of age by nature, nevertheless gladly remain immature throughout their lives; and why it is so easy for others to set themselves up as their guardians. It is so comfortable to be immature. If I have a book to serve as my understanding, a spiritual adviser to serve as my conscience, a physician to judge my diet, and so on, I need not trouble myself. I have no need to think, if only I can pay; others will readily take over the tiresome business for me. That by far the greatest part of humanity—including the entire fair sex—should regard the step to maturity as not only arduous but also very dangerous is something those guardians, who have so graciously assumed supervision over them, take care to ensure. After first making their domestic animals stupid and carefully preventing these docile creatures from daring to take a single step outside the walking frame in which they have confined them, they then show them the danger that threatens if they try to walk alone. Now this danger is not really so great, for after falling a few times they would eventually learn to walk; but an example of this kind nevertheless makes them timid and generally deters them from any further attempts.\n\nIt is therefore difficult for any individual, bound by an immaturity that has become almost second nature, [483] to work free of it. He has even grown fond of it and is for the present truly incapable of using his own understanding, because he has never been allowed to try. Rules and formulas, those mechanical instruments for a rational use—or rather misuse—of his natural gifts, are the shackles of a perpetual immaturity. Even someone who cast them off would still make only an uncertain leap across the narrowest ditch, because he is unaccustomed to such free movement. Thus only a few have succeeded, through cultivating their own minds, in freeing themselves from immaturity and nevertheless walking with a sure step.\n\nBut that a public should enlighten itself is more possible; indeed, if only it is left its freedom, it is almost inevitable. For there will always be some who think for themselves, even among the appointed guardians of the great mass, who, after throwing off the yoke of immaturity themselves, will spread around them the spirit of a rational appreciation of one’s own worth and of every human being’s calling to think for oneself. What is peculiar here is that the public, previously brought beneath this yoke by them, afterward itself compels them to remain beneath it, when, by some of its guardians who are themselves incapable of any enlightenment, it has been incited [484] to do so. So harmful is it to plant prejudices: they ultimately avenge themselves upon the very people who, or whose predecessors, originated them. Hence a public can attain enlightenment only slowly. A revolution may perhaps bring about the overthrow of personal despotism and of oppression driven by greed or a lust for power, but never a true reform in the way of thinking. Instead, new prejudices, just as much as the old, will serve as leading strings for the unthinking mass.\n\nFor this enlightenment, however, nothing is required but *freedom*; and indeed the most harmless of all that can be called freedom: the freedom to make *public use* of one’s reason in all matters. Yet on every side I hear the cry: “*Do not argue!*” The officer says: “Do not argue; drill!” The treasury official: “Do not argue; pay!” The clergyman: “Do not argue; believe!” (Only a single ruler in the world says: “*Argue* as much as you wish, and about whatever you wish; *but obey!*”) Everywhere here freedom is restricted. But which restriction hinders enlightenment? Which does not, and may even promote it? I answer: the *public* use of one’s reason must always be free, and it alone can bring enlightenment among human beings [485] into being; its *private use*, however, may often be very narrowly restricted without thereby seriously hindering the progress of enlightenment. By the public use of one’s own reason I understand the use someone makes of it *as a scholar* before the entire public of the *reading world*. I call its private use the use he may make of his reason in a particular *civil position* or office entrusted to him. Now, for many affairs that concern the commonwealth, a certain mechanism is necessary, through which some members of the commonwealth must conduct themselves merely passively, so that the government may direct them, by an artificial unanimity, toward public ends, or at least prevent them from destroying those ends. Here, of course, one is not permitted to argue; one must obey. But insofar as this part of the machine also regards himself as a member of an entire commonwealth, indeed even of the society of world citizens, and thus in the capacity of a scholar addressing a public in the proper sense through his writings, he may certainly argue without thereby impairing the affairs in which he is employed in part as a passive member. Thus it would be highly pernicious if an officer, given an order by his superiors, wanted while on duty [486] to reason aloud about its appropriateness or usefulness; he must obey. Yet he cannot justly be forbidden, as a scholar, to make observations on defects in military service and submit these to his public for judgment. A citizen cannot refuse to pay the taxes imposed upon him; even an impertinent criticism of such levies, when he is required to pay them, may be punished as a scandal that could provoke general resistance. Yet this same person does not act against a citizen’s duty when, as a scholar, he publicly expresses his thoughts against the impropriety or even injustice of such assessments. Likewise, a clergyman is bound to teach his catechism pupils and his congregation in accordance with the creed of the church he serves, for he was appointed on this condition. But as a scholar he has full freedom, indeed even a calling, to communicate to the public all his carefully examined and well-intentioned thoughts on the defects of that creed and his proposals for a better arrangement of religious and ecclesiastical affairs. Nor is there anything here that could burden his conscience. For what he teaches in fulfillment of his office as an agent of the church he presents as something concerning [487] which he has no free authority to teach according to his own judgment, but which he has been appointed to expound according to instructions and in another’s name. He will say: “Our church teaches this or that; these are the grounds of proof it employs.” He then draws every practical benefit for his congregation from tenets to which he would not himself subscribe with full conviction, yet whose exposition he can nevertheless undertake, since it is not entirely impossible that truth lies concealed in them, and in any event at least nothing contrary to inward religion is found in them. For if he believed he found the latter there, he could not in conscience administer his office; he would have to resign it. The use, then, that an appointed teacher makes of his reason before his congregation is merely a *private use*, since this is always only a domestic gathering, however large; in this respect he, as a priest, is not free, nor may he be, because he is carrying out another’s commission. By contrast, as a scholar speaking through his writings to the public in the proper sense, namely the world, and thus as a clergyman in the *public use* of his reason, he enjoys unrestricted freedom to use his own reason and speak in his own person. For that the guardians of the people [488] in spiritual matters should themselves be immature is an absurdity that amounts to perpetuating absurdities.\n\nBut should not a society of clergymen—a church council, perhaps, or a venerable classis, as it calls itself among the Dutch—be entitled to bind its members by oath to a certain unalterable creed, in order to exercise an unceasing supreme guardianship over each of its members and, through them, over the people, and even to perpetuate it? I say: that is wholly impossible. Such a contract, concluded to keep all further enlightenment from the human race forever, is absolutely null and void, even if confirmed by the supreme power, by imperial diets, and by the most solemn peace treaties. One age cannot enter into an alliance and conspire to place the next in a condition in which it must become impossible to extend its knowledge, particularly on matters of such great concern, to cleanse it of errors, and generally to advance in enlightenment. That would be a crime against human nature, whose original vocation consists precisely in this advance; and posterity is therefore fully entitled to reject such decrees as adopted without authority and in a spirit of outrage. The touchstone [489] of everything that can be enacted as law over a people lies in the question whether a people could impose such a law upon itself. Now this might well be possible for a definite short period, as though in expectation of something better, in order to introduce a certain order: provided that at the same time every citizen, especially the clergyman, were left free, in the capacity of a scholar, to make public observations, that is, through writings, on what is defective in the current arrangement, while the established order continued until insight into the nature of these matters had publicly advanced and proved itself so far that, by uniting their voices, though not necessarily all of them, they could bring a proposal before the throne to protect those congregations that had perhaps agreed upon an altered religious arrangement in accordance with their conception of better insight, without, however, hindering those who wished to leave things as they were. But to agree upon an enduring religious constitution that no one may publicly question, even for the span of a single human life, and thereby as it were annihilate a period in humanity’s progress toward improvement, rendering it fruitless and perhaps even harmful to posterity, is absolutely impermissible. A human being may indeed, for his own person, [490] and even then only for a time, postpone enlightenment in what he is obliged to know; but to renounce it, whether for his own person or, still more, for posterity, is to violate and trample upon the sacred rights of humanity. What even a people may not decree for itself, a monarch may still less decree for the people; for his legislative authority rests precisely on his uniting the entire will of the people in his own. Provided he sees to it that all true or supposed improvement is compatible with civil order, he can otherwise only leave his subjects to do for themselves what they find necessary for their souls’ salvation. That is no concern of his; his concern is to prevent anyone from forcibly hindering another from working, to the best of his ability, to determine and promote that salvation. It detracts even from his majesty if he interferes here by deeming writings through which his subjects seek to clarify their insights worthy of governmental supervision: whether he does this from his own supreme insight, in which case he exposes himself to the reproach *Caesar non est supra Grammaticos*—Caesar is not above the grammarians—or, still worse, if he debases his supreme power so far as to support the spiritual despotism of a few tyrants [491] in his state against his other subjects.\n\nIf, then, we are asked whether we now live in an *enlightened* age, the answer is: no, but we do live in an age of *enlightenment*. As things stand, much is still lacking before human beings as a whole would already be able, or could even be put in a position, to use their own understanding confidently and well in religious matters without another’s guidance. But that the field is now nevertheless being opened to them to work freely toward this, and that the obstacles to general enlightenment, or to emergence from their self-incurred immaturity, are gradually diminishing—of this we have clear indications. In this respect this age is the age of enlightenment, or the century of *Frederick*.\n\nA prince who does not think it beneath him to say that he considers it his *duty* to prescribe nothing to human beings in religious matters, but to leave them full freedom in these, and who thus rejects for himself even the presumptuous name of *tolerance*, is himself enlightened. He deserves to be praised by a grateful world and posterity as the first to release the human race from immaturity, at least on the government’s part, and to leave everyone free [492] to use their own reason in all matters of conscience. Under him, venerable clergymen, without prejudice to their official duties, may freely and publicly, in their capacity as scholars, submit to the world’s examination their judgments and insights that differ here or there from the accepted creed; still more may anyone else who is restricted by no official duty. This spirit of freedom also spreads abroad, even where it must struggle with external obstacles raised by a government that misunderstands itself. For an example nevertheless shines before such a government, showing that freedom need not cause the slightest concern for the public peace and unity of the commonwealth. Human beings gradually work their way out of barbarism on their own, if only one does not deliberately contrive to keep them in it.\n\nI have placed the central point of enlightenment—that is, the emergence of human beings from their self-incurred immaturity—chiefly *in religious matters*, because in the arts and sciences our rulers have no interest in playing guardian over their subjects; moreover, this immaturity is not only the most harmful but also the most dishonorable of all. Yet the way of thinking of a head of state who favors the former goes further still and recognizes that even in regard to his *legislation* [493] there is no danger in allowing his subjects to make *public* use of their own reason and publicly present to the world their thoughts on a better formulation of it, even with a candid criticism of the legislation already enacted. We have a shining example of this, in which no monarch has preceded the one we honor.\n\nBut only someone who is himself enlightened and unafraid of shadows, while also having at hand a numerous and well-disciplined army to guarantee public peace, can say what a free state may not dare: “*Argue as much as you wish, and about whatever you wish; only obey!*” Here a strange, unexpected course of human affairs reveals itself, just as, when viewed on a large scale, almost everything in them is paradoxical. A greater degree of civil freedom seems advantageous to the freedom of the people’s *mind*, and yet sets insurmountable barriers to it; a degree less of the former, by contrast, gives the latter room to expand to the full extent of its powers. Once nature has unfolded beneath this hard shell the seed for which she cares most tenderly, namely the inclination and calling to *think freely*, this gradually acts back upon the people’s disposition, through which they become more capable of *freedom in action* [494] by degrees, and finally even upon the principles of *government*, which itself finds it advantageous to treat the human being, who is now more than a machine, in accordance with human dignity.[1]\n\n*I. Kant.*\n\nKönigsberg in Prussia, September 30, 1784.\n\n[1] Today, the thirtieth of September, I read in *Büsching*’s weekly news of September 13 the notice of this month’s Berlinische Monatsschrift, in which Mr. *Mendelssohn*’s answer to this same question is mentioned. It has not yet reached me; otherwise it would have held back the present answer, which may now stand merely as an experiment in how far chance can bring about agreement in thought.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/kant-enlightenment/translations/trn_kant_enlightenment_mouseia.txt"},{"id":"trn_kant_enlightenment_plain","translator":"Mouseia","kind":"plain","note":"Independent machine-assisted translation directly from the complete German first printing, including Kant's note.","text":"### Essay\n\n[481] An Answer to the Question:\n\n*What Is Enlightenment?*\n\n(S. Decemb. 1783. S. 516.)\n\n*Enlightenment means leaving behind immaturity that is your own fault*. *Immaturity* means being unable to use your understanding without someone else guiding you. This immaturity is *your own fault* when the cause is not a lack of understanding, but a lack of resolve and courage to use it without someone else's guidance. *Dare to know!* Have the courage to use your *own* understanding! That is the motto of enlightenment.\n\nLaziness and cowardice explain why so many people gladly remain immature all their lives, even though nature freed them from outside guidance long ago\n[482] *(as adults by nature)*. They also explain why others find it so easy to set themselves up as their guardians. Being immature is so convenient. If I have a book that does my understanding for me, a spiritual adviser who supplies my conscience, a doctor who decides on my diet, and others of that kind, I do not need to make any effort myself. I do not need to think, as long as I can pay. Others will take on that tiresome job for me. The guardians who have so kindly taken charge of supervising people make sure that the great majority of them—including all women—see the step toward maturity as not only difficult but also very dangerous. First they make their domestic animals stupid. They carefully keep these quiet creatures from daring to take a single step outside the walking frame in which they have shut them up. Then they show them the danger they face if they try to walk alone. The danger is actually not so great. After falling a few times, they would eventually learn to walk. But an example of that kind makes them timid and generally frightens them away from any further attempts.\n\nSo it is hard for any individual, whose immaturity has almost become second nature, [483] to work his way out of it. He has even grown fond of it. For now, he really cannot use his own understanding, because he has never been allowed to try. Rules and formulas are mechanical tools for using his natural gifts rationally—or rather, for misusing them. They are the shackles of a lasting immaturity. Even someone who threw them off would still be unsure of himself when jumping over the narrowest ditch, because he is not used to moving freely like that. That is why only a few have managed to develop their own minds, free themselves from immaturity, and still walk steadily.\n\nBut a public is more likely to enlighten itself. In fact, if it is simply left free, this is almost inevitable. There will always be a few people who think for themselves, even among those appointed to guard the masses. Once they have thrown off the yoke of immaturity themselves, they will spread a spirit of rational appreciation of their own worth and of every person's calling to think for themselves. There is something especially worth noticing here. The public, which these guardians had previously brought under this yoke, later forces the guardians themselves to stay under it, when some of its guardians who are incapable of any enlightenment have stirred it up [484] to do so. Planting prejudices is that harmful: in the end they take revenge on the very people who created them, or whose predecessors did. A public can therefore reach enlightenment only slowly. A revolution may bring an end to personal despotism and oppression driven by greed or the desire to rule. But it will never bring about a true reform in how people think. Instead, new prejudices, just like the old ones, will serve as leading strings for the unthinking masses.\n\nAll that this enlightenment requires is *freedom;* specifically, the most harmless kind of all: freedom to make *public use* of your reason in every matter. But now I hear shouts from every direction: *\"Do not argue!\"* The officer says, \"Do not argue; drill!\" The financial official says, \"Do not argue; pay!\" The clergyman says, \"Do not argue; believe!\" (Only one ruler in the world says, \"*Argue* as much as you want, about whatever you want; *but obey!*\") Everywhere there are restrictions on freedom. But which restriction gets in the way of enlightenment? Which does not, and may even help it? My answer is this: the *public* use of reason must always be free. Only that can lead people to enlightenment [485]. But its *private use* may often be very narrowly restricted without particularly holding back the progress of enlightenment. By the public use of your own reason, I mean the use you make of it *as a scholar* before the whole *reading public*. By private use, I mean the use you are allowed to make of your reason in a particular *civil position* or office entrusted to you. Some affairs that concern the commonwealth require a certain mechanism. Some of its members must behave purely passively, so that the government can direct them toward public goals through an artificially produced agreement, or at least keep them from destroying those goals. Here, of course, you are not allowed to argue: you must obey. But this part of the machine can also see himself as a member of the whole commonwealth, and even of the society of world citizens. In that case, acting as a scholar who addresses a public in the true sense through his writings, he certainly can argue. This does not harm the affairs in which he has been assigned a partly passive role. For example, suppose an officer is given an order by his superiors. It would do great harm if, while on duty, [486] he openly questioned whether the order served its purpose or was useful. He must obey. But he cannot reasonably be forbidden, as a scholar, to comment on defects in military service and submit his comments to his public for judgment. A citizen cannot refuse to pay the taxes imposed on him. Indeed, an intrusive criticism of those charges at the time he is supposed to pay them can be punished as a scandal that could provoke widespread resistance. Still, that same person does not violate his duty as a citizen if, as a scholar, he publicly states his thoughts about how inappropriate or even unjust such tax demands are. Similarly, a clergyman is bound to teach his catechism students and his congregation according to the creed of the church he serves. He was hired on that condition. But as a scholar he is completely free, and even has a calling, to share with the public all his carefully examined, well-intentioned thoughts about faults in that creed, along with proposals for better arrangements in religion and the church. Nor is there anything here that could burden his conscience. What he teaches as part of his office, as the church's representative, he presents as something [487] he is not free to teach however he sees fit. Rather, he is employed to present it according to instructions and in someone else's name. He will say, \"Our church teaches this or that; these are the arguments it uses.\" He then draws every practical benefit for his congregation from teachings he would not endorse with complete conviction himself. He can nevertheless commit himself to presenting them, because it is not entirely impossible that they contain some hidden truth. At any rate, they must contain nothing that contradicts inward religion. If he believed he found such a contradiction in them, he could not carry out his office with a clear conscience. He would have to resign. So an appointed teacher's use of reason before his congregation is only a *private use;* however large the gathering may be, it is still only a domestic one. In this respect, as a priest, he is not free, and should not be free, because he is carrying out someone else's commission. But as a scholar who addresses the true public—the world—through his writings, the clergyman makes *public use* of his reason. He then enjoys unlimited freedom to use his own reason and speak for himself. For it is absurd for the people's guardians [488] (in spiritual matters) to be immature themselves. That amounts to making absurdities last forever.\n\nBut could a society of clergymen—a church council, for example, or a respected church assembly, called a classis among the Dutch—be entitled to bind its members by oath to a fixed, unchangeable creed? Could it do this to keep each member, and through them the people, under a continuous supreme guardianship, and even make that guardianship permanent? I say that this is completely impossible. A contract aimed at keeping all further enlightenment away from the human race forever is absolutely null and void. It would remain so even if the highest authority, imperial diets, and the most solemn peace treaties confirmed it. One age cannot make a binding agreement and swear to put the next in a position where it cannot expand its knowledge—especially on matters of such great concern—clear away errors, or make any further progress in enlightenment. That would be a crime against human nature, whose original purpose consists precisely in this progress. Later generations are therefore fully entitled to reject those decisions as unauthorized and wrongful. The test [489] of anything that can be made law for a people lies in this question: could a people impose such a law on itself? It could do so for a fixed, short time, to establish a certain order while waiting, as it were, for something better. At the same time, every citizen, especially every clergyman, would have to remain free to act as a scholar and publicly comment, through writing, on the faults in the current arrangements. Meanwhile, the established order would continue. It would last until public understanding of these matters had advanced far enough and proved itself well enough to bring a proposal before the throne through the combined voices of those involved, though not necessarily all of them. The proposal would seek protection for congregations that had agreed to change their religious arrangements according to what they understood to be a better insight. It would not obstruct those who wanted to leave things as they were. But it is absolutely forbidden to agree on a lasting religious constitution that no one may publicly question, even for the span of a single human life. Doing so would, in effect, wipe out a period of humanity's progress toward improvement. It would make that time fruitless and perhaps even harmful to later generations. A person may, for himself, [490] and even then only for a time, put off enlightenment in matters he ought to know about. But to renounce it, whether for himself or, still worse, for later generations, means violating and trampling on humanity's sacred rights. A monarch has even less right to decide something for his people that the people themselves have no right to decide. His authority to make laws rests precisely on his uniting the will of the whole people in his own. Provided he makes sure that every real or supposed improvement is compatible with civil order, he can only leave his subjects to do what they find necessary for their salvation. That is no concern of his. What does concern him is preventing anyone from using force to stop someone else from working, with all their abilities, to determine and advance their salvation. He even diminishes his own majesty when he interferes in this. He does so when he considers the writings through which his subjects try to clarify their understanding worthy of his government's supervision. This is true when he acts on his own supreme insight, exposing himself to the criticism, *\"Caesar is not above the grammarians,\"* and even more so when he lowers his supreme power to the point of supporting the spiritual despotism of a few tyrants [491] in his state against the rest of his subjects.\n\nIf we are now asked, \"Do we live in an *enlightened* age?\" the answer is, \"No, but we do live in an age of *enlightenment*.\" As things stand, we are still very far from people generally being able, or even being put in a position, to use their own understanding confidently and well in religious matters without someone else's guidance. But there are clear signs that the way is now being opened for them to work freely toward that goal. The obstacles to general enlightenment, to leaving behind the immaturity that is their own fault, are gradually becoming fewer. In this respect, this age is the age of enlightenment, or the century of *Frederick*.\n\nA ruler may consider it quite consistent with his dignity to say that he sees it as his *duty* not to prescribe anything to people in religious matters, but to leave them completely free. He therefore rejects even the arrogant label of *tolerance*. Such a ruler is himself enlightened. He deserves the praise of a grateful world, now and in the future, as the first to free the human race from immaturity, at least as far as the government was concerned, and to leave everyone free [492] to use their own reason in all matters of conscience. Under him, respected clergymen can act as scholars without neglecting their official duties. They can freely and publicly submit to the world's examination judgments and insights that differ here and there from the accepted creed. This applies even more to anyone else who is not restricted by official duties. This spirit of freedom also spreads abroad, even where it must struggle with external obstacles set up by a government that misunderstands itself. For even that government has before it a clear example showing that freedom gives no reason for the slightest worry about the commonwealth's public peace and unity. People will gradually work their own way out of an uncultivated condition, if only no deliberate schemes are used to keep them in it.\n\nI have placed the main point of enlightenment—people leaving behind the immaturity that is their own fault—especially *in religious matters*. Our rulers have no interest in playing guardian to their subjects in the arts and sciences. Besides, immaturity in religion is both the most harmful and the most degrading kind of all. But the thinking of a head of state who encourages enlightenment goes further. He sees that even where his *laws* [493] are concerned, there is no danger in allowing his subjects to make *public* use of their own reason. They may publicly present their ideas to the world about how to improve those laws, even offering a frank criticism of laws already enacted. We have a shining example of this, in which no monarch has preceded the one we honor.\n\nBut only a ruler who is himself enlightened and unafraid of shadows, and who also has a large, well-disciplined army at hand to guarantee public peace, can say what a republic cannot dare to say: *\"Argue as much as you want, about whatever you want; just obey!\"* This shows a strange, unexpected course of human affairs. As elsewhere, almost everything about it seems paradoxical when viewed on a large scale. A greater degree of civil freedom seems to benefit the freedom of the people's *mind*, yet sets limits it cannot get past. One degree less of civil freedom, on the other hand, gives that mind room to develop all its abilities. Under this hard shell, nature develops the seed it cares for most tenderly: the tendency and calling to *think freely*. Once developed, this gradually affects the people's outlook in turn, making them more capable of *acting freely* [494] over time. Eventually it even affects the principles of *government*. The government finds that it benefits itself by treating people, who are now more than machines, in a way that respects their dignity.[1]\n\n*I. Kant.*\n\nKönigsberg in Prussia, September 30,\n1784.\n\n[1] Today, the 30th of September, I read in *Büsching*'s weekly news of September 13 the notice of this month's Berlinische Monatsschrift. It mentions Mr. *Mendelssohn*'s answer to this very question. I have not yet received it. Otherwise, it would have held back the present answer. This one may now stand simply as an experiment to see how far chance can bring about agreement in thought.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/kant-enlightenment/translations/trn_kant_enlightenment_plain.txt"}],"retex_markdown_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/kant-enlightenment/retex.md"}}