What is Enlightenment?

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Enlightenment is man's emergence from his self-incurred immaturity.

Immaturity is the inability to use one's own understanding without

the guidance of another. This immaturity is self-incurred if its

cause is not lack of understanding, but lack of resolution and

courage to use it without the guidance of another. The motto of

enlightenment is therefore: Sapere aude! Have courage to use your own

understanding! Laziness and cowardice are the reasons why such a

large proportion of men, even when nature has long emancipated them

from alien guidance (naturaliter maiorennes), nevertheless gladly

remain immature for life. For the same reasons, it is all too easy

for others to set themselves up as their guardians.

It is so convenient to be immature! If I have a book to have

understanding in place of me, a spiritual adviser to have a

conscience for me, a doctor to judge my diet for me, and so on, I

need not make any efforts at all. I need not think, so long as I can

pay; others will soon enough take the tiresome job over for me. The

guardians who have kindly taken upon themselves the work of

supervision will soon see to it that by far the largest part of

mankind (including the entire fair sex) should consider the step

forward to maturity not only as difficult but also as highly

dangerous. Having first infatuated their domesticated animals, and

carefully prevented the docile creatures from daring to take a single

step without the leading-strings to which they are tied, they next

show them the danger which threatens them if they try to walk

unaided. Now this danger is not in fact so very great, for they would

certainly learn to walk eventually after a few falls. But an example

of this kind is intimidating, and usually frightens them off from

further attempts.

Thus it is difficult for each separate individual to work his way out

of the immaturity which has become almost second nature to him. He

has even grown fond of it and is really incapable for the time being

of using his own understanding, because he was never allowed to make

the attempt. Dogmas and formulas, those mechanical instruments for

rational use (or rather misuse) of his natural endowments, are the

ball and chain of his permanent immaturity. And if anyone did throw

them off, he would still be uncertain about jumping over even the

narrowest of trenches, for he would be unaccustomed to free movement

of this kind. Thus only a few, by cultivating the;r own minds, have

succeeded in freeing themselves from immaturity and in continuing

boldly on their way.

There is more chance of an entire public enlightening itself. This is

indeed almost inevitable, if only the public concerned is left in

freedom. For there will always be a few who think for themselves,

even among those appointed as guardians of the common mass. Such

guardians, once they have themselves thrown off the yoke of

immaturity, will disseminate the spirit of rational respect for

personal value and for the duty of all men to think for themselves.

The remarkable thing about this is that if the public, which was

previously put under this yoke by the guardians, is suitably stirred

up by some of the latter who are incapable of enlightenment, it may

subsequently compel the guardians themselves to remain under the

yoke. For it is very harmful to propagate prejudices, because they

finally avenge themselves on the very people who first encouraged

them (or whose predecessors did so). Thus a public can only achieve

enlightenment slowly. A revolution may well put an end to autocratic

despotism and to rapacious or power-seeking oppression, but it will

never produce a true reform in ways of thinking. Instead, new

prejudices, like the ones they replaced, will serve as a leash to

control the great unthinking mass.

For enlightenment of this kind, all that is needed is freedom. And

the freedom in question is the most innocuous form of allÑfreedom to

make public use of one's reason in all matters. But I hear on all

sides the cry: Don't argue! The officer says: Don't argue, get on

parade! The tax-official: Don't argue, pay! The clergyman: Don't

argue, believe! (Only one ruler in the world says: Argue as much as

you like and about whatever you like, but obey!). . All this means

restrictions on freedom everywhere. But which sort of restriction

prevents enlightenment, and which, instead of hindering it, can

actually promote it ? I reply: The public use of man's reason must

always be free, and it alone can bring about enlightenment among men;

the private use of reason may quite often be very narrowly

restricted, however, without undue hindrance to the progress of

enlightenment. But by the public use of one's own reason I mean that

use which anyone may make of it as a man of learning addressing the

entire reading public. What I term the private use of reason is that

which a person may make of it in a particular civil post or office

with which he is entrusted.

Now in some affairs which affect the interests of the commonwealth,

we require a certain mechanism whereby some members of the

commonwealth must behave purely passively, so that they may, by an

artificial common agreement, be employed by the government for public

ends (or at least deterred from vitiating them). It is, of

course,impermissible to argue in such cases; obedience is imperative.

But in so far as this or that individual who acts as part of the

machine also considers himself as a member of a complete commonwealth

or even of cosmopolitan society, and thence as a man of learning who

may through his writings address a public in the truest sense of the

word, he may 'indeed argue without harming the affairs in which he is

employed for some of the time in a passive capacity. Thus it would be

very harmful if an officer receiving an order from his superiors were

to quibble openly, while on duty, about the appropriateness or

usefulness of the order in question. He must simply obey. But he

cannot reasonably be banned from making observations as a man of

learning on the errors in the military service, and from submitting

these to his public for judgement. The citizen cannot refuse to pay

the taxes imposed upon him; presumptuous criticisms of such taxes,

where someone is called upon to pay them, may be punished as an

outrage which could lead to general insubordination. Nonetheless, the

same citizen does not contravene his civil obligations if, as a

learned individual, he publicly voices his thoughts on the

impropriety or even injustice of such fiscal measures. In the same

way, a clergyman is bound to instruct his pupils and his congregation

in accordance with the doctrines of the church he serves, for he was

employed by it on that condition. But as a scholar, he is completely

free as well as obliged to impart to the public all his carefully

considered, well-intentioned thoughts on the mistaken aspects of

those doctrines, and to offer suggestions for a better arrangement of

religious and ecclesiastical affairs. And there is nothing in this

which need trouble the conscience. I ; or what he teaches in pursuit

of his duties as an active servant of the church is presented by him

as something which he is not empowered to teach at his own

discretion, but which he is employed to expound in a prescribed

manner and in someone else's name. He will say: Our church teaches

this or that, and these are the arguments it uses. He then extracts

as much practical value as possible for his congregation from

precepts to which he would not himself subscribe with full

conviction, but which he can nevertheless undertake to expound, since

it is not in fact wholly impossible that they may contain truth. At

all events, nothing opposed to the essence of religion is present in

such doctrines. For if the clergyman thought he could find anything

of this sort in them, he would not be able to carry out his official

duties in good conscience, and would have to resign. Thus the use

which someone employed as a teacher makes of his reason in the

presence of his congregation is purely private, since a congregation,

however large it is, is never any more than a domestic gathering. In

view of this, he is not and cannot be free as a priest, sinÏ he is

acting on a commission imposed from outside. Conversely, as a scholar

addressing the real public (i.e. the world at large) through his

writings, the clergyman making public use of his reason enjoys

unlimited freedom to use his own reason and to speak in his own

person. For to maintain that the guardians of the people in spiritual

matters should themselves be immature, is an absurdity which amounts

to making absurdities permanent.

But should not a society of clergymen, for example an ecclesiastical

synod or a venerable presbytery (as the Dutch call it), be entitled

to commit itself by oath to a certain unalterable set of doctrines,

in order to secure for all time a constant guardianship over each of

its members, and through them over the people ? I reply that this is

quite impossible. A contract of this kind,concluded with a view to

preventing all further enlightenment of mankind for ever, is

absolutely null and void, even if it is ratified by the supreme

power, by Imperial Diets and the most solemn peace treaties. One age

cannot enter into an alliance on oath to put the next age in a

position where it would be impossible for it to extend and correct

its knowledge, particularly on such important matters, or to make any

progress whatsoever in enlightenment. This would be a crime against

human nature, whose original destiny lies precisely in such progress.

Later generations are thus perfectly entitled to dismiss these

agreements as unauthorised and criminal. To test whether any

particular measure can be agreed upon as a law for a people, we need

only ask whether a people could well impose such a law upon itself.

This might well be possible for a specified short period as a means

of introducing a certain order, pending, as it were, a better

solution. This would also mean that each citizen, particularly the

clergyman, would be given a free hand as a scholar to comment

publicly, i.e. in his writings, on the inadequacies of current

institutions.

Meanwhile, the newly established order would continue to exist, until

public insight into the nature of such matters had progressed and

proved itself to the point where, by general consent (if not

unanimously), a proposal could be submitted to the crown. This would

seek to protect the congregations who had, for instance, agreed to

alter their religious establishment in accordance with their own

notions of what higher insight is, but it would not try to obstruct

those who wanted to let things remain as before. But it is absolutely

impermissible to agree, even for a single lifetime, to a permanent

religious constitution which no-one might publicly question. For this

would virtually nullify a phase in man's upward progress, thus making

it fruitless and even detrimental to subsequent generations. A man

may for his own person, and even then only for a limited period,

postpone enlightening himself in matters he ought to know about.

But to renounce such enlightenment completely, whether for his own

person or even more so for later generations, means violating and

trampling underfoot the sacred rights of mankind. But something which

a people may not even impose upon itself can still less be imposed

upon it by a monarch; for his legislative authority depends precisely

upon his uniting the collective will of the people in his own. So

long as he sees to it that all true or imagined improvements are

compatible with the civil order, he can otherwise leave his subjects

to do whatever they find necessary for their salvation, which is none

of his business. But it is his business to stop anyone forcibly

hindering others from working as best they can to define and promote

their salvation. It indeed detracts from his majesty if he interferes

in these affairs by subjecting the writings in which his subjects

attempt to clarify their religious ideas to governmental supervision.

This applies if he does so acting upon his own exalted opinionsÑ in

which case he exposes himself to the reproach: Caesar non est supra

GrammaticosÑbut much more so if he demeans his high authority so far

as to support the spiritual despotism of a few tyrants within his

state against the rest of his subjects.

If it is now asked whether we at present live in an enlightened age,

the answer is: No, but we do live in an age of enlightenment. As

things are at present, we still have a long way to go before men as a

whole can be in a position (or can ever be put into a position) of

using their own understanding confidently and well in religious

matters, without outside guidance. But we do have distinct

indications that the way is now being cleared for them to work freely

in this direction, and that the obstacles to universal enlightenment,

to man's emergence from his self-incurred immaturity, are gradually

becoming fewer. In this respect our age is the age of enlightenment,

the century of Frederick. A prince who does not regard it as beneath

him to say that he considers it his duty, in religious matters, not

to prescribe anything to his people, but to allow them complete

freedom, a prince who thus even declines to accept the presumptuous

title of tolerant, is himself enlightened. He deserves to be praised

by a grateful present and posterity as the man who first liberated

mankind from immaturity (as far as government is concerned), and who

left all men free to use their own reason in all matters of

conscience. Under his rule, ecclesiastical dignitaries,

notwithstanding their official duties, may in their capacity as

scholars freely and publicly submit to the judgement of the world

their verdicts and opinions, even if these deviate here Ind there

from orthodox doctrine. This applies even more to all others who are

not restricted by any official duties. This spirit of freedom is also

spreading abroad, even where it has to struggle with outward

obstacles imposed by governments which misunderstand their own

function. For such governments an now witness a shining example of

how freedom may exist without in the least jeopardising public

concord and the unity of the commonwealth. Men will of their own

accord gradually work their way out of barbarism so long as

artificial measures are not deliberately adopted to keep them in it.

I have portrayed matters of religion as the focal point of

enlightenment, i.e. of man's emergence from his self-incurred

immaturity. This is firstly because our rulers have no interest in

assuming the role of guardians over their subjects so fir as the arts

and sciences are concerned, and secondly, because religious

immaturity is the most pernicious and dishonourable variety of all.

But the attitude of mind of a head of state who favours freedom in

the arts and sciences extends even further, for he realises that

there is no danger even to his legislation if he allows his subjects

to make public use of their own reason and to put before the public

their thoughts on better ways of drawing up laws, even if this

entails forthright criticism of the current legislation. We have

before us a brilliant example of this kind, in which no monarch has

yet surpassed the one to whom we now pay tribute.

But only a ruler who is himself enlightened and has no far of

phantoms, yet who likewise has at hand a well-disciplined and

numerous army to guarantee public security, may say what no republic

would dare to say: Argue as much as you like and about whatever you

like, but obey! This reveals to us a strange and unexpected pattern

in human affairs (such as we shall always find if we consider them in

the widest sense, in which nearly everything is paradoxical). A high

degree of civil freedom seems advantageous to a people's intellectual

freedom, yet it also sets up insuperable barriers to it. Conversely,

a lesser degree of civil freedom gives intellectual freedom enough

room to expand to its fullest extent. Thus once the germ on which

nature has lavished most careÑman's inclination and vocation to think

freely--has developed within this hard shell, it gradually reacts

upon the mentality of the people, who thus gradually become

increasingly able to act freely Eventually, it even influences the

principles of governments, which find that they can themselves profit

by treating man, who is more than a machine, in a manner appropriate

to his dignity.