”At the core of Spinoza’s philosophy is his all embracing system. This straddles the hierarchical world of medieval certainty and the emerging belief of reason alone to reach the truth.”
”Spinoza’s systematic, theistic approach renders his philosophy an anachronistic oddity. Ironically, the conclusions he drew from this out of date system are deeply in accord with modern thought, from science to politics.
Both his system, and the conclusions he drew from it have a compelling beauty unequaled in the history of philosophy. If beauty were truth, and truth beauty, as Keats claimed, Spinoza’s philosophy would be all we know, and all we need to know.”
Spinoza perhaps more than any other single philosopher is an ideal subject for this entertaining series of philosophical introductions. This is because, while his ideas are appealing, fascinating, even sublime, his philosophical writing is a baroque tangle of nearly indecipherable, impenetrable mathematic proofs originally composed in Latin, and shot through with consistent contradictions. As much as he fascinates me, Ive given up hope of ever making it through his major works, such as The Ethics. For everyone short of professional philosophers, Spinoza has become the philosopher that is most important for you to know of but that you are least likely to read with any hope of comprehension.
Spinoza’s core ideas resonate closely to progressive concepts that are currently vital and appealing:
”His mathematically generated system embodied “Deus sive natura” — God or Nature. It started from basic assumptions, and by a series of geometric proofs constructed a universe which was also God. His is the classic example of pantheism, the belief that God and the Universe are one and the same thing. This has a curious echo in the modern Gaia hypothesis, where our planet is viewed as a single, vast organism, or self regulating cell.”
Likewise, his Ethics anticipated ideas that feel distinctly modern:
”Spinoza’s system also yielded a holistic ethics similar to that favored by modern ecologists — harm the world and you harm God, harm another and you harm yourself.”
And Spinoza’s political thought was the vanguard of what we now call the Enlightenment, which mostly unfolded in the century after his:
”Spinoza’s political theory was equally ahead of its time. He believed that the purpose of a state was only to protect the individual in order that he could freely develop himself and his ideas by use of enlightened reason.”
Yet the way he arrived at his conclusions seems, by our current reckoning to be deeply flawed, and the way he recorded them nearly incomprehensible. He was deeply influenced by Maimonides, by Descartes, by Giordano Bruno, but in incorporating them into his ideas often abandoned the very elements that made their earlier thought workable and comprehensible. Strathern uses the flippant mockery that has become a hallmark of his in this series to point out the contradiction between the brilliant appeal of Spinoza’s thought and the baroquely haphazard way that he constructed his philosophy:
”One by one, Spinoza was assembling the ingredients, which when cooked in the hot oven of his intellect, would produce the unsurpassed confectionary of his philosophy, a creation of infinite sweetness, containing a mouth-watering variety of philosophical cherries, plum observations, and sickly theological cream, all overlaid with marzipantheism, and coated with rigid, geometric icing, topped by the single glowing candle of its uniqueness.”
To sum it up, Spinoza — the philosopher you read about rather than read.