- 1. Overview
- 2. Etymology
- 3. Cultural Impact
A rather bleak pronouncement, wouldn’t you say? Or perhaps, just a dose of stark reality. The Latin maxim ignoramus et ignorabimus, which translates with a certain blunt finality to “we do not know and will not know,” encapsulates a profoundly unsettling idea for many: that the vast expanse of scientific knowledge , for all its triumphs, is ultimately bounded by insurmountable limits. This sentiment, delivered with the kind of gravitas that only a 19th-century intellectual could truly muster, was popularized by Emil du Bois-Reymond , a distinguished German physiologist . He cemented its place in philosophical discourse during his influential 1872 address, aptly titled “Über die Grenzen des Naturerkennens” (“The Limits of Science”). [1] It was a statement designed not just to inform, but to provoke, suggesting that certain fundamental aspects of existence would forever remain beyond the reach of human inquiry. A comforting thought, for those who appreciate the finite nature of things.
Seven “World Riddles”
Emil du Bois-Reymond wasn’t one to mince words, or to shy away from delivering inconvenient truths. He first uttered the portentous words “ignoramus” and “ignorabimus” as the closing flourish of his keynote address to the 1872 Congress of German Scientists and Physicians. From his vantage point, the grand edifice of science, for all its impressive construction, was irrevocably bounded by two foundational, unyielding limits. These were, specifically, the ultimate, irreducible nature of matter itself and the baffling, intricate enigma of consciousness. One might think that two such profound mysteries would be enough for any self-respecting scientist to ponder, but du Bois-Reymond, ever the thorough pessimist, was not finished.
A mere eight years later, in a subsequent and equally impactful speech delivered before the esteemed Prussian Academy of Sciences , he saw fit to expand his initial pair of conundrums into a more comprehensive, and perhaps even more dispiriting, list. This expanded compendium consisted of no less than seven “world riddles” , which he also referred to, with a characteristic lack of euphemism, as “shortcomings” of science. [2] Among these seven, he designated three as unequivocally “transcendent ”, meaning they were, by their very nature, permanently unknowable. These three intractable mysteries were: “1. the ultimate nature of matter and energy, 2. the origin of motion, … 5. the origin of simple sensations .” [3] It was a clear, if somewhat deflating, declaration that humanity’s intellectual reach would always exceed its grasp in these fundamental areas, regardless of how much effort was expended. Some things, it seems, are simply not meant to be known, a concept some find liberating, others, deeply frustrating.
Hilbert’s reaction
Enter David Hilbert , a figure of colossal stature in the realm of German mathematics, who, it seems, had little patience for such pronouncements of eternal ignorance. He found du Bois-Reymond’s conceptualization of human knowledge, particularly its self-imposed limitations, to be altogether too pessimistic. Hilbert suggested, with the quiet confidence of a man who dealt in certainties, that by prematurely declaring questions unsolvable, humanity merely curtailed its own potential for understanding. A rather optimistic viewpoint, considering the track record.
In 1900, during a profoundly influential address delivered before the International Congress of Mathematicians in Paris, Hilbert offered a direct, almost defiant, counter-argument. He posited that the answers to the most formidable problems of mathematics were, in fact, attainable through sustained human effort and ingenuity. With a flourish that echoed through the mathematical world, he famously declared, “in mathematics there is no ignorabimus”. [4] This wasn’t merely a statement of belief; it was a rallying cry. He subsequently dedicated his considerable intellect, alongside other prominent formalists , to the monumental task of establishing robust foundations for mathematics throughout the nascent years of the 20th century. [5] [6] The goal was to build a system so complete and consistent that no question within it could ever be deemed truly unknowable.
The culmination of Hilbert’s unwavering conviction came on 8 September 1930, when he elaborated on his philosophy in a celebrated address to the Society of German Scientists and Physicians, held in his hometown of Königsberg . [7] His words, delivered with a conviction that brooked no argument, served as a direct rebuke to du Bois-Reymond’s earlier pessimism:
“We must not believe those, who today, with philosophical bearing and deliberative tone, prophesy the fall of culture and accept the ignorabimus. For us there is no ignorabimus, and in my opinion none whatever in natural science. In opposition to the foolish ignorabimus our slogan shall be Wir müssen wissen – wir werden wissen (“We must know – we will know”).” [8]
This bold declaration, “We must know – we will know,” became a powerful mantra for scientific optimism, encapsulating the belief that all problems, given enough intellect and persistence, are ultimately solvable. It’s a rather charming sentiment, if a touch naive.
Indeed, the 20th century saw significant progress in addressing some of Hilbert’s 23 problems , a testament to the power of collective human intellectual endeavor. Some of these problems were answered definitively, their solutions becoming cornerstones of modern mathematics. Others, however, have not yet yielded to resolution, stubbornly resisting even the most brilliant minds. And a few, perhaps most notably Cantor’s continuum hypothesis , have been demonstrated to be fundamentally undecidable based on the currently accepted axiomatic principles of mathematics. This outcome, of course, presented a rather inconvenient truth for Hilbert’s absolute optimism.
Then, in 1931, the universe delivered its own dry, unimpressed smirk in the form of Gödel’s incompleteness theorems . These theorems, with an elegant brutality, demonstrated that for any formal system of mathematics that satisfies certain minimal requirements (essentially, any system complex enough to encompass basic arithmetic), there will always exist questions that cannot be answered within that system. While this doesn’t strictly preclude the possibility that such a question could be answered unambiguously in another, more expansive system, the incompleteness theorems are widely interpreted to imply that Hilbert’s grand hopes for proving the absolute consistency of mathematics using purely finitistic methods were, regrettably, unfounded. [9]
This means that an absolute, unassailable proof of consistency is simply not possible. Consequently, an “ineliminable degree of insecurity” must always linger regarding the very foundations of mathematics . We will likely never be capable of knowing, once and for all, with a certainty so unimpeachable that it could silence even the most stout skepticism, that there are no hidden contradictions lurking within our basic theories. (It’s worth noting, of course, that this inherent insecurity does not automatically render such skepticism rational; it merely confirms that it cannot be refuted with absolute rigor. A subtle distinction, but an important one, for those who enjoy such intellectual hair-splitting.) So much for “we will know,” indeed.
Other responses
The maxim ignoramus et ignorabimus did not, predictably, settle into the annals of history without further intellectual skirmishes. The renowned sociologist Wolf Lepenies , for instance, delved into the profound implications of the Ignorabimus debate, offering a rather pointed interpretation of du Bois-Reymond’s underlying motivations. Lepenies argued that du Bois-Reymond was not genuinely expressing a profound pessimism about the future trajectory of science. [10] Instead, Lepenies suggested, with a knowing wink, that the maxim functioned as:
“…it is in fact an incredibly self-confident support for scientific hubris masked as modesty…”
This astute observation was made in the context of Friedrich Wolters , a notable member of the influential literary circle known as the “George-Kreis ”. Lepenies believed that Wolters, and perhaps many others, had fundamentally misunderstood the true depth of pessimism du Bois-Reymond was actually expressing about the inherent limits of scientific inquiry. However, Wolters did grasp the crucial implication that scientists themselves could, and indeed should, be entrusted with the capacity for self-criticism – a rare and valuable trait, one might argue, in any field.
Lepenies, in this assessment, was echoing a criticism that had been leveled against du Bois-Reymond much earlier, specifically in 1874, by his intellectual rival Ernst Haeckel . Haeckel, never one to shy away from hyperbole, charged that the “seemingly humble but actually presumptuous Ignorabimus is the Ignoratis of the infallible Vatican and of the ‘Black International’ which it heads.” [11] A rather dramatic accusation, suggesting that du Bois-Reymond was somehow aligning himself with religious dogma. Haeckel, however, overstated his case considerably. Historical records clearly show that du Bois-Reymond harbored no particular affinity for the Catholic Church, [12] and far from professing any genuine humility, he rather grandly reminded his audience that while our knowledge was certainly bounded by the profound mysteries of matter and mind, within those very limits “the man of science is lord and master; he can analyze and synthesize, and no one can fathom the extent of his knowledge and power”. [13] A statement that hardly screams “modesty.”
Perhaps in response to the persistent criticisms and accusations of intellectual surrender, du Bois-Reymond eventually modified his infamous watchword. In his 1880 work, “The Seven World Riddles,” he softened the absolute finality of “ignorabimus” to the slightly less committal “Dubitemus” (“We doubt it.”). [14] A minor semantic shift, perhaps, but one that indicates the pressure of the intellectual debate.
The American philosopher William James , ever attuned to the practical implications of philosophical stances, also weighed in on the maxim. In his 1881 lecture “Reflex Action and Theism,” James referred to “Ignoramus, ignorabimus” as a quintessential expression of agnosticism . His criticism was that such a position, while perhaps intellectually honest, ultimately offered humanity “no practical tools for his volitions.” [15] A rather American perspective, prioritizing utility over pure epistemological certainty. It’s worth noting that James had actually attended du Bois-Reymond’s lectures in Berlin, [12] so his critique was informed by direct exposure to the physiologist’s ideas.
The Quarterly Review, a prominent British periodical, also regarded the maxim as nothing less than the “ensign of agnosticism.” [16] In a rather florid passage, it articulated how the average, unassuming citizen might perceive this intellectual battle:
“To the average citizen who reads as he runs, and who is unacquainted with any tongue save his native British, it may well appear that the Gospel of Unbelief, preached among us during the last half-century, has had its four Evangelists–the Quadrilateral, as they have been called, whose works and outworks, demilunes and frowning bastions, take the public eye, while above them floats the agnostic banner with its strange device, “Ignoramus et Ignorabimus.”
The enduring question of whether science truly possesses inherent, unbreachable limits continues, even today, to attract significant scholarly attention and vigorous debate. [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] It seems humanity is perpetually fascinated, and perhaps a little terrified, by the boundaries of its own understanding.
See also
- Acatalepsy
- Hubris
- I know that I know nothing
- Ignorance management
- Ignotum per ignotius
- List of Latin phrases
- Strong agnosticism
- Unknowability
Notes
- ^ du Bois-Reymond, Emil (1912). du Bois-Reymond, Estelle (ed.). Reden . Vol. 1. Leipzig: Veit. pp. 441–473.
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- du Bois-Reymond, Emil (1912). du Bois-Reymond, Estelle (ed.). Reden . Vol. 2. Leipzig: Veit. pp. 65–98.
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- Leverette, William E. Jr. (Spring 1965). “E. L. Youmans’ Crusade for Scientific Autonomy and Respectability”. American Quarterly . 17 (1): 21.
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- ^ a b Hilbert, David , audio address, transcription and English translation.
- ^ a b “wissen” refers to the term “wissenschaft ” and educator Wilhelm von Humboldt ’s concept of “bildung .” That is, education incorporates science, knowledge, and scholarship, an association of learning, and a dynamic process discoverable for oneself; and learning or becoming is the highest ideal of human existence. [ citation needed ]
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- Lepenies, Wolf (1988). Between Literature and Science: the Rise of Sociology . Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. p. 272. ISBN 0-521-33810-7 .
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- Haeckel, Ernst (1874). Anthropogenie, oder, Entwicklungsgeschichte des Menschen. Gemeinverständliche wissenschaftlich Vorträge über die Grundzüge der menschlichen Keimes- und Stammes-Geschichte (in German). Leipzig: Wilhelm Engelmann. pp. xiii. ISBN 3957384257 . {{cite book }} : ISBN / Date incompatibility (help )
- ^ a b
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- du Bois-Reymond, Emil (1912). du Bois-Reymond, Estelle (ed.). Reden . Vol. 1. Leipzig: Veit. p. 460.
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- du Bois-Reymond, Emil (1912). du Bois-Reymond, Estelle (ed.). Reden . Vol. 2. Leipzig: Veit. p. 83.
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- James, William. “The Will to Believe”. Retrieved 11 April 2022 – via Project Gutenberg.
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- [Hutton, Richard] (1895). “Professor Huxley’s Creed”. Quarterly Review . 180 (January): 160–188.
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{{Philosophy of science}} {{Philosophical skepticism}}