*
BEYOND MAN
We are at last reaching the end of our study, and we may well try to marshal the many considerations that have been taken up around a unifying and central theme. We stated in Chapter IV that process begins with a particular, though undefined, dynamic that we called "purpose," which goes out into matter to obtain means to effect this purpose and finally attains its end: it actualizes the purpose that first sent it forth.
Our central theme is that a self, or a universe, is of the same nature. It starts and ends with undefined purpose, unrestricted choice. We may variously describe this as free choice, spontaneous causation, randomicity, but in any case it is not committed to objective form, terminal state, or to any local or temporal manifestation. To illustrate the transcendency of form which characterizes purpose, think of the purpose "to travel," then of the variety of forms used for traveling: horse and carriage, automobile, airplane, space rocket, and finally, perhaps, teleportation.
Let us not forget the difficulty which our hypothesis encounters. This is that the essential nature of the first principle is undefinable; it is knowable only through its effects. It is similar to that remarkable experiment familiar to physicists called the Wilson cloud chamber experiment, in which the path of an invisible particle (which may be a proton, an electron, or other nuclear particle) leaves a vapor trail which is photographed as a bright line. We see this bright line, but cannot see its cause (the particle is so small that it cannot possibly reflect a light wave, its dimensions being less than 1/1000 of the wavelength of visible light).
This first cause, or as Aristotle calls it, final cause, is both beginning and end, the first and last stage of process. It is both the light kingdom and the dominion kingdom. Its nature is complete freedom. It has but one law - the law of hierarchy. It is not determinable; it has no form; it is not objective. To attempt to describe it, we call it projective or dynamic, and to distinguish it from the generality of the other formless dynamic (energy or raw substance), we call it particular. All of this wordiness could be avoided by calling it "spirit," which we can now do with some impunity, for we have erected a scaffolding to enclose its formlessness and hence are not open to the charge of vagueness.
This word "spirit" is a very good word, despite the fact that it is presently out of fashion. It is rather similar to "sublimation" in that it too refers to a physical operation - spirit being that which is distilled from wine or other admixture with water.* The point is that it is not so much what word we use that matters as the implication with which we endow these words. By the phrase "merely a sublimation of animal drives," we may imply that man is "no more than" animal; but when we do this, as we said in Chapter I, we are also abolishing the distinctions between other kingdoms. We are implying that the animal is merely a collection of chemicals, and the chemicals are merely atoms. Carried out completely, this course would take us to electrons and protons, which we find are not things at all; they are "probability fogs." So we are left with nothing whatever except the metaphysical concept that all manifestation is illusion. There is nothing wrong with this concept either. The point is, the rather irresponsible statement that man is merely the "sublimation of animal drives" implies the removal of all distinctions that exist between kingdoms, and we need these distinctions for an account of evolution.
*The analogy can be extended. Out of the earth grow the grapes, from the grapes we obtain the wine, from the wine we distill the spirit.
The distinctions between kingdoms, as we have endeavored to show throughout the book, stem from basic principles. They are stages in process. The first stage is purpose, a goal projected, and the last, the achievement of this goal.
The five intervening stages have to do with means; at first a descent into determinism to obtain formed matter to use, and then the employment of matter to build an organism that can achieve the goal. Almost any endeavor follows this pattern; first a goal is projected, say a business enterprise (purpose, 1), then money is raised (substance, 2), plans are drawn (form, 3), foundations laid and factory built (4), products manufactured (5), products sold (6).
But in the case of man, the house not made by hands is invisible. The only visible part of the house is the physical body. This is the formed substance - it is our fourth level. But to complete the picture, it is necessary to think of man as consisting of three other "bodies," essentially principles, at levels III, II, and I.
Hierarchy of the self
We would, therefore, chart the "anatomy of the self" as consisting of essentially four principles:
A physical body analogous to the fourth stage of process, essentially a collection of molecules, such being the actual substance of the body which weighs so many pounds avoirdupois.
An organizer "body" analogous to the fifth stage of process (the plant kingdom) in its power to create order and to organize the material. This may be the etheric body. This stage, which may be thought of as a very general kind of "mind" on account of its propensity for creating order, is related to the mind or ego of stage III. In the fifth substage of the seventh kingdom, it appears as "creative mind," or genius which modern man is engaged in acquiring.
An animating "body" corresponding to the sixth stage of process (mobility-animal kingdom). The function of this body is to provide interest, appetite, emotion, desire, and other "motivation." Like the fifth, it also has a higher form, which we describe as the sixth substage of the seventh kingdom. This higher form can be called soul; it deals in values rather than structure, and exists only potentially in man today.
The final core of self or "spirit," the essential seat of consciousness, but also of evaluation, will, and conscience. At present, it too is undeveloped or potential in man, but it is of greatest importance because it is the seventh principle, whose development through several substages is man's evolution. There is no point in distinguishing a higher version here because whatever the seventh substage is, it is the ineffable end point of the already indefinable "spirit" kingdom.
We might also mention in this connection the preliminary results of some research into the several words, or, rather, hieroglyphs used by the ancient Egyptians to describe the "parts" or "bodies" of the self. First, and most obvious, is the Khat, written as a stranded fish, which stands for the physical body.
Then, there is the Ka, or double, written as a pair of arms reaching up. (According to Joan Grant, who describes these hieroglyphs in her novel, Winged Pharaoh, this symbol depicts mind, and was so written because the mind should serve the higher principles. Budge translates it as "the double.")
Best known is the Ba or Ba bird, written as a bird, but also as a human head with wings. This is translated as soul by both Budge and Grant.
A fourth, the Za, depicting spirit, is written as a circle with a mesh of lines in the form of a sieve. This is translated as spirit by both Budge and Grant.
While there are other bodies in the Egyptian hierarchy of the self, these four are the most important.
We have now described the hierarchy of selves as they stand in ideal relation to one another, an arrangement toward which they eventually evolve. But ideal government is not easily come by; it is millions of years in the making, and we will have to come down from the mountain tops to view its development a little more as it would occur in life.
Self-determination
In the preceding chapter we discussed the first five substages of the seventh kingdom of dominion. After explaining why such a kingdom must exist, we proceeded to place modern man at the fourth substage of this kingdom because of his preoccupation with combinations - combining parts to build his machines, combining persons into organizations. Complementing this preoccupation with combinations and their laws is his belief in the efficacy of such laws, his belief in science, in research, in determinism.
This brings us to the important aspect of the seventh kingdom that we have not yet discussed. It will be recalled that by a study of the seven substages we were able to isolate two properties common to them all (see Chapter VII on molecules), and hence to obtain information about the seventh kingdom. These properties were:
1. Dominion over the antecedent substages.
2. Dependence of the seventh substage upon the next higher kingdom.
The second property we have not discussed. To do so for man is awkward in this day and age. It is like discussing sex in the Victorian era. Modern man is at a kind of psychological crossroads. He is graduating from dependence upon authority and moving toward self-determination. This can be seen in a fairly long-term trend since Greek thought broke away from the sanctity of tradition and authority - typified by Egypt with its priesthood and carefully guarded ceremonies and initiations.
The Greeks discovered the power of reason, and used it to assert their independence of tradition and of authority. In terms of a shorter kind, there has been in more modern times, since the American and French revolutions, a tendency to affirm the independence of the individual and to challenge "the divine right of kings." Coming down to the immediate present, we have the phenomenon of the automobile, which has given man an extraordinary freedom of movement. Add to this the freedom of the press, freedom of religion, etc., and we have an almost excessive emphasis on cutting loose from any dependence on authority.
Yet, in the long history of mankind, the dependence on authority, both enforced and voluntary, has been strikingly prevalent. Every race, every people, however primitive, have had their religions; their beliefs in supernatural beings and forces; their ceremonies for invoking the favor of the gods; their dances, rituals, temples, and idols; their myths, sacrifices, and worship.
Modern man has banished this as superstition, primitivism, the product of ignorance and savagery. And he is right in so doing. The question is whether he can, in fact, give up an age-old need without withdrawal symptoms. He has for millions of years depended on something higher, on something beyond himself, and suddenly he tries to cut this off. He cannot so easily change himself. So what results? As he has banished his worship from consciousness, it seizes control through his subconscious. He worships science. This is the most absurd distortion that man, with all his foibles, has ever indulged. For science is a tool. It provides the means for effecting his will. It should not be worshiped because its nature is service. We may not ask of science whether man has a will of his own because science is committed to the doctrine that the uncertainty which would occur if a machine had a will of its own must be eliminated. If the battery says no when we want it to start the car, we get a new battery. No tool would be any use if it had a will of its own. A tool is a means used by our will. So it is absurd to turn to the exponents of means, who are expert at removing self-determination from mechanisms, for any illumination of that aspect of existence which they have been at pains to eliminate.
But we cannot answer that need of man by telling him not to consult science. He is so constituted that he must have advice. He depends on something higher than himself. If it is taken away from him, he invents it; he constructs it out of the materials at hand. In an age when religion falters, he makes a cult of computers.
So we have the neurosis of modem man. He has created a brave new world of science with a thousand machines to do his bidding. Yet he has no philosophical maturity to match it. His dependence on something beyond him thus becomes more acute because he gives it no conscious outlet; he instinctively worships the computer.
The prediction is a true cul-de-sac. Science, man's new idol, disclaims responsibility for ends and goals; it will not answer questions that belong in the province of the spirit. At the same time, it manages to undermine the criteria by which man can decide moral or ethical issues. It discredits the Biblical accounts: we are not descended from Adam and Eve, but from an ape-like progenitor; the earth couldn't possibly have been formed in seven days; the world was not created on the twenty-third of October, 4004 B.C.; the Virgin Birth was a myth; Jehovah is a Jewish father image; etc., etc.
Certainly, we could hardly ask that science try to support obsolete ideas. The touchstone for science is truth. So let us have the truth, whatever the cost. But it would be most improper not to demand of these explorations into the nature of man and of process the same candor that characterizes explorations into gravitation or electromagnetism. By the same token, we would, in turn, demand the same rights that science enjoys - the right, for example, to use the techniques of mathematics, to apply geometry to meaning as well as to geography.
Meanwhile, there is always error, to which all new endeavor is liable. Let us not let the fear of making errors hold us from pushing forward. Only by making mistakes can the unforeseen be discovered.
In the preceding chapter we described what lies beyond modern man, the fifth substage, where, having learned what there is to know of law, man displays the remarkable quality we find in great creative genius: in the painters, writers, composers, leaders, and generals whose works survive their death. That this is a distinct breed different from ordinary man is not for me to prove. There is no test to establish the claim to this distinction, apart from the works of the man himself - either they live or they don't.
To show how persons of unusual and high attributes properly fit in the fifth substage, we emphasized their power of self-multiplication (our word that covers the two things that plants contribute - growth and reproduction) . In the case of genius there is both: the figurative "growth" of their stature in the eyes of their fellows (they are "big" men), and the self-reproduction epitomized by their works, whether paintings, writings, compositions, or such historical acts as the Napoleonic Code.
We have already distinguished between these two outlets to creative power. Let us develop the implications. The self has now learned to draw to itself all the power it wants. And therein lies the crise or problem of this stage. What would happen if it drew to itself more and more and more power? Recall that it is still a finite body; it is still a person, a center unto itself, and not part of the sun. The result would be just what it would be if we tried to pass more and more electricity through a given electric light bulb. It would burn out (and, we would suppose, not just burn out a physical body, but burn out the evolving entity in a permanent sense - forever).
So here, in the fifth substage, the entity, having acquired the ability to draw all the power it wants to itself, must now find a way to get rid of this power. It must export it, express it in the form of creations. It is compelled, like Don Giovanni (and indeed, Mozart, himself), to be the pure creative instrument, with a list of paramours commensurate with Koechel numbers. This is the dead center of the moral issue. Before this, all other moral problems are but child's play. Here the self must really choose. And just because it can here taste the glory of power, there is the greatest difficulty for it to give up this power, or rather dedicate it, sacrifice it, if you will, to what lies beyond its immediate self-interest.
Now perhaps this seems too far-fetched or too strained a reading. Surely, we are indulging here in fantasy. Strangely, not - for this very point is one of the most completely consistent with the structure of the grid. Here, in fact, pivots our whole geometry. Recall the relation between the third and the fifth powers; how the latter goes through the same area as the former, but in reverse order. And recall that the third kingdom saw the emergence of the identity power, where to gain this identity the entity must create a center of its own (an enclosure for the embryo in the plant, a stomach of its own in the animal, self-consciousness in man). And recall, if you will, the story of Adam and Eve eating the fruit of the tree that was in the midst of the garden and therefore symbolic of the taking on of self-centeredness. Now, assuming that this process of the third power has to be gone through in reverse order in the fifth, as we must read the ascent through the fifth, how else can we interpret this than as expression, a throwing off of centeredness - which is what the plant does when it propagates itself, and what the creative genius does through his works? This is, in fact, one of the most remarkable findings of the grid, in that it gives not only a theoretical and categorical explanation of self-reproduction, but does so with great economy of means, using in reverse the device that accounts for atoms.
The moral question
Even more important is the fact that we have here an objective explanation of the moral question. But let us first ask: what do we mean by a moral question? What is "good"?
Clearly, the word is a very general designation for that which is suitable, desirable, satisfactory, attractive - as a good meal, a good book, etc. The moral issue begins, however, only when we consider ends that are beyond the immediate and local. If we go on a diet, it then becomes "good" not to eat, where ordinarily it is good to eat. The moral question begins when there is a conflict between a short- and a long-term good. "To die for a just cause" can be good if we recognize a higher self that survives such a death.
In the grid's fifth substage of dominion, we have the self with the power of unlimited growth. It has learned, like the plant, how to build order against the general trend toward disorder. It can reverse entropy! This is a tremendous accomplishment. To realize what it means, suppose we could reverse the entropy at a certain spot in space. This spot would get hotter and hotter; there would be no fuel and yet it would burn. We could, as they say, use it to light a city. More than that, it would suck in unlimited energy. This would, of course, burn out any finite vehicle. Or picture it this way. If there is a hole in a balloon, the air leaks out and the balloon collapses. But if entropy were reversed, then when there was a hole in the balloon, the air would flow into the balloon, and it would not stop flowing in. Naturally, the balloon would burst. Self-reproduction under this analogy becomes a device by which the expanding balloon releases its excess by producing other balloons.
Our reason, then, for saying that the monad must distribute its excess power is an objective, mechanical one. Infinite force cannot inhabit a finite system. We have thus correlated the moral question with something that has reality apart from morality. We can define morality in terms of something other than itself.
Now, a peculiar thing about morality is that in however "scientific" a manner we account for it, it haunts us nonetheless. We have shown above that it can be "defined" for fifth-stage entities. What has this to do with the rest of humanity? At first glance, nothing. We might live hundreds of lifetimes before we evolved to the stage where such an issue could come up. For it can hardly be a virtue or a credit not to do something we are not able to do. People who aren't able to make money try to make a virtue of this incompetence. But incompetence is not a virtue. And this applies generally. One cannot be generous if one has nothing to give. This doesn't mean that giving is an external thing, that it is the tangible gift that counts. The morality we refer to in the fifth substage is the relinquishing of the power itself, and not of the products of this power.
Putting all this together, I would reason that the moral quest achieves primary importance only for a highly evolved (fifth-stage) person. For the rest of mankind, morality is a presentiment or premonition of the importance of this at some future date - hence, the old belief in a day of judgment. The day of judgment will occur at some remote future time, when the deeds of all men will be judged. But why should there be such a long wait if there were not more deeds that we are to do in the interim? One suspects that the main point of the judgment day, even if it is a myth, is sound. There will come a time in the lives of each of us when we will go on or be destroyed, but this time will not come until we wield so much power that the misuse of it would destroy ourselves. But such postponement is no true escape. The self "knows" its destiny - confusedly perhaps, but with some kind of deeper insight. And it is very sensitive about piling up further indebtedness. It is scrupulous about paying for newspapers at self-service counters and telephone calls at friends' houses.
These observations should be construed as illustrations of how one can use the structure of the grid to act as a foundation for what is otherwise a slippery business - much as a sculptor uses an armature to keep soft clay from collapsing.
Sixth substage of dominion
We now come to the last substage that we can even think about or discuss. There is some question as to whether or not we should discuss it at all since it is beyond confirmation by experience, and speculation is subject to error. The reason for discussing it is that it is interesting. It is even more speculative than what we've covered so far, more fantastic. It is literally out of this world. For the entities here would not be physical. If they had physical bodies, this would be only according to some special conditions and provisions.
Another reason for discussing this substage is that it is the highest that can be touched on, and hence becomes a beacon or guiding light for the stages below it. As we've seen, dependence on the higher is of prime importance to the dominion kingdom. The sixth substage must be a realm of immortals. (This we have shown already because it is the level of energy which cannot be destroyed.) We could go on to say it is a realm of gods. Both statements plunge us into conflict with modern views. Let us treat them together.
As to immortality, the lesson that the whole sweep of the grid teaches us is that the cumulativeness which is everywhere present in the stages of the grid can be explained only by some carry-over from one stage to another that is equivalent to immortality. Further, we have seen that of the seven principles or powers, only one is "visible" (only the molecular or molar kingdom can be seen or touched or has what we call material properties). This indirectly supports the evidence for immortality, since it shows that invisibility and intangibility are no evidence for nonexistence.
As to "gods," this is perhaps a matter of definition. There are various ways we can define gods and still make our peace with the modern mind.
We may define them as the elemental forces of nature, i.e., God of the Wind, God of the Sea, of the Storm, etc. In less trivial fashion we may define gods as abstract principles - as Cronus, or Saturn, is the god of limitation and law; Zeus, or Jupiter, the god of expansiveness, growth, propagation. It is only when we say that gods are actual beings that the modern mind refuses to continue the conversation. Principles, yes - persons, no!
Here is where the mind betrays us. The mind is willing to concede any abstraction, but when it draws blood, it panics. We have spread out before us a whole universe of entities all chorusing the glory of creation - and man concedes this. But he balks at the idea that there are entities higher than himself. Why should gods not be supermen - creatures which to ourselves are, say, as a horse is to an earthworm? We accept genius (or perhaps there are reservations even here - do we accept genius?). Why should this be the top limit? Is it because there is no tangible evidence?
Here is another turning point where the mind plays tricks with us. If we say there is evidence of higher orders of being, the mind says the evidence is insufficient, presumably because it has some reason to believe the contrary. If we ask the reason, it cites the extreme rarity of occurrence, but this means only that the ordinary occurs more frequently than the extraordinary. If frequency of occurrence is a criterion, then no prototype ever existed because there is but one prototype and there are millions of copies.
So we should not claim tangible evidence for the existence of immortals or beings more highly evolved than man. Our evidence is of a deductive or categorical nature, just as it was for the existence of a seventh kingdom. It is the same kind of evidence that we have for knowing that a cube has six sides, though we can never see more than three at a time.
But perhaps the modern man could accept supermen - so long as we don't call them gods. This is what I meant about blood - man is touchy on this subject.
Why is he so touchy? Is it because of what the serpent said? - "then your eyes shall be opened and ye shall be as gods, knowing good from evil. " Is it because to admit this is to take on the responsibility of being a man? Is it an echo of that other masterpiece of sidestepping - the "descent from ape-like progenitors"? Why do we thrust aside the crown? We are certainly paying for it, and there is no way of avoiding the payments. The question is easy to answer. It is simply this: that the issue is so vital, so sacred, so demanding, that consciousness avoids it. While to name a thing would give us power over it, we cannot name that which has power over us!
But it is rather unfair to state the thesis in this way, and we will not enter this as an argument. It is intended, rather, as a piece of mutual soul-searching; for I am as puzzled by this as anyone.
So we have it from the grid structure that at the sixth substage of the seventh kingdom there must be immortal or god-like entities. We would suspect that there must have been many instances of these immortals living on earth - not only because of the sheer power required to launch a whole civilization or set the pattern for a whole age (Mazda, Orpheus, Christ, and Buddha), but because the accounts of early ages of all peoples state unequivocally that certain gods came down and taught the people. The Egyptian tradition has it that Osiris "abolished cannibalism, taught agriculture, built temples, invented flutes. His consort taught women to grind corn, spin flax, weave cloth."
Mayans have a god who taught writing. The Pawnees (American Indians) say Torawa sent gods to teach men the secrets of nature.
Realizing the speculative and tentative nature of this question of gods, we might enter as candidates for this category such figures from Bible tradition as Noah and Moses; but the difficulty we encounter is similar to that we meet with Osiris, Mazda, and Orpheus - we don't know enough about them.
One thing to look for would be superhuman powers, ability to perform miracles, perform healing, raise the dead, etc. Here again, not enough is known, even though the miracles of Christ are well documented. In fact, it is rather remarkable how little attention the modern mind gives to this aspect of Christ's life, considering the great number of instances of healing, raising the dead, the casting out of devils, and other superhuman power credited to Christ by the Gospels. The apostle Mark lists:
1:25 Cures a victim of possession.
1:34 Heals many that were sick; casts out many devils.
1:41 Heals a leper.
2:11 Heals a man with palsy.
3:5 Heals a withered hand.
4:39 Stills a tempest.
5:8 Rids a man of many devils.
5:23 Heals a woman of bleeding.
5:42 Raises a child of twelve from death.
6:40 Feeds five thousand (miracle of the loaves and the fishes).
6:48 Walks upon the sea.
6:56 Heals many.
7:30 Heals the daughter of a woman.
7:35 Heals a deaf man.
8:8 Feeds four thousand.
8:23 Returns sight to a blind man.
16:6 Rises from the dead.
16:9 Appears to Mary Magdalene.
16:12 Appears to two disciples.
16:14 Appears to eleven disciples.
People I ask say they do not believe in the miracles and stress their unimportance. They claim that they are fabrications and attributed to Christ because he Was not an ordinary person, etc. But these rationalizations do not fit the facts. In the first place, Mark was the earliest Gospel and lists more miracles than later Gospels. Secondly, the miracles were the means by which Christ obtained followers and were the cause of his fame - not the other way about. There was as much skepticism then as now. An often-reported reaction to these feats was fear, which does not suggest the wishful thinking with which the modern mind clothes the era. In the case of Christ's appearances to his disciples after his death, it is clear that they required a great deal of convincing, for he had to make certain that each of the disciples had seen him (the phrase "doubting Thomas" refers to the skepticism of one of the disciples who refused to believe until he could himself insert his hands in the wounds - an opportunity he was later granted, along with a rebuke for his faithlessness).
The point in citing the miracles is not to convince the reader that they were genuine, any more than the point in describing molecules that expand and contract is to convince the reader of their existence. The point is that all of life is miraculous; and we are trying in the grid to order a number of principles, some of which we recognize as rational and therefore credible, and some of which are out of reach of the rational mind.
Seventh substage
In this substage, the dominion kingdom and, indeed, the course of evolution, reaches its goal. We cannot describe this, not only because it is so far beyond man, but because it is by definition ineffable.