That there is something unsatisfying about the scientific concept of nature has for long been recognized, and not least by scientists themselves. Of course there have been some remarkable changes in the foundations of science during the present century, and these have lessened the previously ‘mechanistic’ character of scientific theory; but it still remains true that physical science finds no place in its scheme of things for life and consciousness. “The ancients,” wrote Paul Valéry, “set their philosophy to peopling the universe as ardently as we, in our time, have set ours to emptying it of all life.” And similarly A.N. Whitehead has spoken of the opening up, since Descartes, of a deep division between two distinct and incompatible attitudes of mind; we seek to believe simultaneously in the mechanical theory of nature and in the self-determining or creative character of living things. Hence there is a radical inconsistency, he says, at the basis of modern thought.

How can we justify a comparative study between one idea that is originally essentially geographical and another that is essentially religious? If, on another hand, we examine the two terms on the basis of their currently accepted meaning, and the two realities on the basis of their present content, such a comparison may not become more comprehensible. But in reality, Europe has expanded beyond its physical boundaries: in this sense it is the matrix and historical point of reference both for America and Australia, and even for Russia. With reference to scientific and technical civilization, its inventions and attainments coincide with the modern strata of activity of all contemporary societies. On the contrary, politically it crouches within its West-European nucleus, trying to construct a new identity, limited and distinct, based on specificities that should distinguish it from everything it has projected outside, and from everything it has subjected and denied. This suggests the multiplicity of levels and perspectives.

The medium of payment typically is defined as that which is generally accepted in payment for goods and services or in the settlement of debt. Perhaps because modern monetary systems function so well in providing media of payment, we seldom consider the question of why they enjoy the general acceptability by which they are identified. Yet, because monetary systems evolve and change, such basic questions warrant occasional re-examination to ensure that contemporary analysis does not, unwittingly, embody and foster the errors of an earlier time.

Anthropology cannot be distinguished from other social and human sciences by its own particular object of study. Apparently concerned with the so-called “primitive” peoples, or peoples “without writing,” it developed into a science at the same time that these peoples were declining, or at least losing their distinctive characteristics. For the last ten years or so, some anthropologists have turned to studying the so-called civilized societies. Clearly, then, anthropology issues less from the existence of a specific object of study than from an original way of formulating problems which are shared by all the sciences of man. Anthropology acquired its importance by studying social phenomena which, because of their strangeness and difference from those of the observer's own society—and not because they were any simpler—afforded an insight into certain properties which are at once general and basic to all social life. We could compare the anthropologist's position in the social sciences to that of the astronomer in the natural sciences: man is apprehended through his remotest manifestations, over a distance which acquires temporal, spatial, and moral value. The distance which separates the anthropologist from his object of study reduces the complexity of what he can see, but, making a virtue out of this constraint, it forces him to perceive only those phenomena which may be considered essential.

Culture is a pillow-word; it shapes itself according to the head resting upon it. In 1968, a group of experts convened by UNESCO defined it as the means by which all goals are articulated, or as the sum of the means created by man to ensure his existence or communicate with his fellows. Another meeting in 1970 took up this definition again, and posited culture as the sum total of knowledge and modes of thought and action which allow man to order his own behavior, his relationships with other men and nature.

The remarks which follow deal with the ideas which I developed in more detail in my book: between Experience and Metaphysics. They are inspired principally by the vigorous polemic aroused by the publication several years ago of a work which caused a great uproar in epistemological circles; I am speaking of The Structure of Scientific Revolution by T.S. Kuhn. One could thus consider this essay, as well as my book, as an element to be added to that polemic's dossier. It goes without saying that I am indebted to a great number of those who before me have given their points of view on the question, whether I agree with their opinions or not.

In what follows I would like to interpret one of Kafka's most intriguing pieces (“On Similes,” written around 1922/23, but never published during the author's lifetime), and at the same time point out what seems to me a striking similarity between the ways in which Kafka and the early Wittgenstein thought about religious language. My interest in this paper is confined to investigating how Kafka and Wittgenstein approached the problem of religious statements qua “similes,” although what is known about both authors points to further significant parallels in their thinking.

For almost two hundred years the problem of localization of the brain processes has been provoking discussion in the fields of medicine, philosophy, and in general critical reflection that at times is expressed in acute polemic terms—phrenology, the disputes over aphasia between 1861 and 1865, the Bergsonian interpretation of P. Marie's works, and so on—and at times dies down and seems to disappear. In the past quarter of a century, this discussion has not lost any of its fascination, but it cannot possibly be tackled without at least a minimum of historical background. We therefore propose, first of all, to review the main elements highlighting the development of the problem, since its present state becomes meaningful only in relation to the recent past. Since we cannot permit ourselves to recapitulate all aspects of its history in the course of this article, we shall give examples in the four fields we feel to be the most pertinent: human and animal neuropsychology, neurophysiology and neurochemistry. Finally, we shall set forth our reflections on the heuristic meaning of these examples, and endeavor to draw conclusions, some of which may answer problems that have never been raised before.

The term acculturation was first used by American scholars in dealing with cultural changes in the American Indian society; however, I would like to use this term a bit more freely.

Born and Pauli, in talking of the style of science, meant its relatively stable features, which characterized a long period of scientific progress. “I do not mean,” wrote Born in 1953, “that there exist (outside mathematics) any unchanging principles, a priori principles in the strict sense of the term. But I think that certain general tendencies of thought exist, which change very slowly and which form definite philosophical periods with their own characteristic ideas in all fields of human activity, including science. In a recent letter to me, Pauli used the expression ‘styles’; styles of thought, not only in art but in science too. In adopting this term, I would assert that style is also a characteristic of physical theory, and it is precisely this fact that gives its principles a certain constancy. They are, as it were, relatively a priori principles in relation to the particular period. If one is familiar with the style of one's time, one can make certain cautious predictions. One can at least reject ideas that are foreign to the style of one's time”.

In the course of the last few centuries the evolution of literature has been marked by the entry of Eastern countries into the system of social and spiritual relationships which came into being in the West at the beginning of the 17th century. This evolution is linked with the changes which have been grouped together as “modernization.” The content of this modernization coincides, more or less, with what Marx and Engels described, in the first chapter of the Communist Manifesto, as the expansion of the bourgeoisie. However, in the 20th century, the possibility of a non-capitalist path has become apparent, and therefore the theory of modernization gives a wider sense to the character of the ruling class (which, in the 19th century, was the European bourgeoisie), and emphasizes changes of a general nature: the differentiation of the social structure, the birth of new institutions and new roles, economic differentiation, industrialization, urbanization, increased vertical and horizontal mobility, cultural differentiation, the birth of a science independent of religion, the substitution of a businesslike, rational attitude to life for a religious one, the development of civic awareness and of civil rights. The cradle of modernization (England, Holland, France) is conventionally called “the West.” Other countries, including those situated to the west of France (e.g. Spain, Portugal) are considered as “the non-West.”

The idea of progress is essentially socio-historical. I mean by that that the idea and its meaningful content are the outcome of socio-historical processes in connection with the socio-cultural development of mankind, with which the idea of progress is inextricably linked. Before proceeding to any investigation of its nature it is necessary to dissociate its meaning from two fundamental concepts of modern natural and social science, evolution and change. Evolution is here taken in its strict biological connotation, not in its metaphysical implications. This point is made clear by Bradley who distinguishes between Darwinism as a theory of natural evolution and Darwinism as a metaphysics of existence. From the standpoint of the social universe, within which the idea of progress acquires its meaningfulness, natural evolution is not indeed indifferent, but amoral, and has to be accounted for as an external condition. The same applies to cosmic evolution or changes occurring within the physical universe. Although not indifferent to man, these are devoid of moral content and have to be taken as objectively given conditions.

When we speak of a crisis in some domain, we usually think of an unfathomable situation which can only be resolved by a general upheaval. We can, however, assign another, more etymological meaning to the word: that of a critical evaluation. While admitting that the crises in contemporary physics have a good deal to do with the first meaning, I believe that their essential impact, on culture and human thought in general, issues from the second interpretation which allows us to envision these crises as a growing consciousness in physics of the range of its domain and the scope of its methods. These crises greatly contributed, on the one hand, to giving physics a new dimension in its field of action, and, on the other hand, they were brought about by a certain number of ideas which belonged to the general cultural heritage at the time they occured. From this point of view we may conceive of these crises as a cause, and conversely as an effect, of the penetration by wider intellectual horizons of an original structure which was somewhat artificially limited, by the selection of its constituent elements, to representing a sort of mental abstraction, justifiable in terms of the successes it achieved, but hardly representative of its human dimension as a whole.

The transfer of the capital to a new site on Brazil's central plateau had a particular significance in the eyes of those who conceived the idea. Its primary aim was to create a nucleus from which to promote the development of the vast and almost deserted interior regions, abandoning Rio de Janeiro which was, for various reasons, no longer judged capable of fulfilling its role as the seat of national political life. As the Brasilia project was realized, thanks to the inspiration of President Kubitschek, it was hoped that it would contribute to the solution of urgent problems stemming from the country's development. Its basic function was to stimulate this development, no longer seen only as the development of the coastal regions but also of the interior, the sertão, that is the “great desert” of the Goiás, the Mato-Grosso and of Amazonia.

A primary image suggests itself to anyone who wishes to assert that every society exfoliates in several ways, such as in technics, organization, the sacred, the recreational, the beautiful, etc. all in one movement which is simultaneously both differentiated and integral. This image is of a fan, whose stems diverge from a center and are linked in the one unfolding; but another assertion immediately intervenes, claiming that this picture is over-optimistic: it is the assertion of the disparities between these ways, or domains, which disrupt the pattern of the whole by modifying its aspect and which can alter its meaning. If one wishes, one may call these the contradictions.

A history of the comic has not yet been written. According to historians, the comic had very different, and sometimes even opposite causes, in relation to different ages and cultures. What provoked laughter in one civilization could be taken quite seriously in another. The comic has always had a particular function and its nature, its internal composition, has not been immutable. It could be kept within the limits of a single sphere that was assigned to it in particular (the comic, as opposed to the tragic), but it could also be elevated to a conceptual vision of the world, and in this case, it embraced much more universal domains of human history. Nevertheless, nothing has been written on the history of the comic throughout all ages and encompassing all peoples. Serious studies concerning the place it occupies in the history of civilizations are, however, of great interest.

Those religious doctrines which used to foretell the dawning on earth of an age of perfect happiness are called “millennial;” they oppose the existing society, which is considered as unjust and oppressive, and proclaim its impending downfall. These doctrines are called “messianic” whenever the inauguration of this perfect world is dependent upon the arrival of a “son of God,” a divine messenger, or a mythical hero: in fact, of a “messiah.” The messiah is he who announces and inaugurates on earth a “Kingdom of Heaven.”

Feedback appears to be a fundamental characteristic of the phenomena of life. Elsewhere it only appears in man-made machines. These machines are always presented as being a meeting ground for laws immanent both in matter and in man. A new science has been created to study the applications of feedback: cybernetics. As feedback is closely related to questions concerning the transmission of information, cybernetics has rapidly given rise to a theory of information. The latter, with its applications, has taken on an absolutely essential role in our modern world wherever problems of administration occur.

In an earlier study, De la féerie à la science-fiction, I tried to show the internal consistency and the chronological succession of fairy tales, fantastic stories and works of scientific anticipation or extrapolation. They represent three styles of the imaginary, and illustrate, each in its own way (“like hollow molds,” I said), the chief epochs of man's changing situation on his planet, as he himself saw it, more or less naively, in each case. First he depicted himself as powerless and wonderstruck; then confident in science and technology, he considered himself the fortunate conqueror of the planet; and finally he saw himself as isolated and marginal in the immensity of space—just at the very time when he was learning to move about in it.

Structuralism, Robert Scholes tells us, embodies “a ‘scientific’ view of the world as both real in itself and intelligible to man.” In order to achieve objectivity and descriptive adequacy in the human sciences, structuralists have generally adopted the linguistic model of Ferdinand de Saussure via Prague school structural linguistics. The common assumption has it that structural linguistics, given its method of abstracting language into an autonomous object for empirical analysis, now constitutes itself as a true science, worthy of emulation by other disciplines in the social sciences and in the humanities. However, there has been sparse inquiry into the validity of the general “scientific” foundations upon which the structuralist methodology rests. In response to this critical deficiency the present commentary will aim: (1) to subject the underlying presuppositions of structuralism to close scrutiny in the light of past and present scientific paradigms, and (2) to suggest, as a consequence of the first objective, that structuralism is based on premises which are not consistent with current scientific and epistemological lines of reasoning.