Kant, Herder, and the Limits of Developmental Explanation: Language and Human Formation in the 1785 Reviews

In the eighteenth century, a profound question began to trouble European thinkers: where does the human mind come from, and how did we learn to speak? For centuries, the prevailing view held that language was a gift from the divine, a special tool handed down to humanity to separate us from the rest of the animal kingdom. But as science and philosophy began to look more closely at nature, a new idea took root. Perhaps language was not a sudden miracle, but something that grew out of our bodies, our senses, and our history. This debate was not just about words; it was about the very nature of being human. If our ability to think and speak evolved from our physical form and our social lives, does that mean our moral choices and our reason are just products of biology and culture, or do they stand on a different foundation entirely? This tension between the story of how we grew and the story of who we are remains one of the most important questions in understanding the human condition.

Two giants of this era, Immanuel Kant and Johann Gottfried Herder, found themselves on opposite sides of this divide, though their disagreement was far more subtle than a simple clash of ideas. Herder, a German philosopher, argued that human beings are the result of a continuous process of development. He believed that our capacity for language and reason emerged naturally from our physical bodies and our interaction with the world. For Herder, the way we stand upright, the way our hands move, and the way we feel pain or joy were all part of a single, unfolding story that led to the creation of speech and culture. He saw humanity as a plant that grew from the soil of nature, shaped by climate, tradition, and the slow accumulation of knowledge passed down through generations. To Herder, we are defined by our history and our ability to learn from one another.

Kant, a contemporary and fellow philosopher, respected Herder's work but drew a sharp line in the sand. In 1785, Kant wrote two reviews of Herder's major book, Ideas for the Philosophy of the History of Mankind. In these reviews, Kant did not deny that our bodies and our history matter. He agreed that we are natural creatures who develop over time. However, he argued that Herder made a critical mistake by assuming that the story of how we developed could explain everything about us. Kant insisted that while nature and history can explain how we came to have the ability to speak, they cannot explain why our speech and our thoughts carry a special kind of weight or authority. For Kant, there is a difference between the conditions that allow a human being to exist and the principles that make a human being a moral and rational agent. He believed that if we only look at our biological and historical origins, we miss the part of ourselves that allows us to judge right from wrong and to think freely, independent of our circumstances.

The paper you are reading, written by Memetniyaz Osman and Ghenijan Memet, revisits this 1785 debate to show that it is not just a historical footnote, but a living framework for understanding language today. The authors argue that Kant's criticism was not a rejection of Herder's developmental story, but a warning about its limits. They suggest that Herder was right to say that language is a product of our history, our culture, and our physical form. Language is not a static tool we use after we have already formed our thoughts; rather, it is the very medium through which our thoughts take shape. We learn to think by learning the words and stories of the people around us. This idea, the authors note, heavily influenced later thinkers who saw language as a living, changing force that shapes how we see the world.

However, the authors explain that Kant's counterpoint is equally vital. Kant argued that just because we can trace the history of how a human capacity emerged, it does not mean we have explained its true value. For example, knowing how a child learns to speak does not explain why that child has the right to be treated with dignity or the ability to make a moral choice that goes against their upbringing. Kant believed that human reason and morality belong to a different category than the biological processes that created them. If we only view humans as products of their environment, we risk losing the idea that we can step back, evaluate our traditions, and choose to change them. The authors show that Kant was not trying to separate humans from nature, but rather to protect the idea that human beings have a unique capacity to reflect on their own existence and to set their own rules.

The paper carefully reconstructs the specific points where these two thinkers disagreed. One major point of contention was the human body. Herder believed that our upright posture and our free hands were the physical keys that unlocked our ability to reason and speak. He saw the human body as organized specifically for these higher functions. Kant agreed that our bodies are different from other animals, but he argued that having the right body parts does not automatically create a rational mind. He warned against assuming that a physical cause, like standing up, could fully explain a moral or spiritual effect. Similarly, Herder used the idea of "organic forces"—a way of thinking that living things grow and change according to internal principles—to explain how humanity evolved. He suggested that these same forces might explain why the human soul could survive death. Kant rejected this leap, arguing that while we can see how life continues in nature through reproduction and growth, we cannot use those observations to prove that an individual human consciousness survives after death.

Another key area of disagreement was the role of tradition. Herder saw tradition as the essential soil in which human culture grows. We are born into a world of language, customs, and beliefs that we did not create, and these inherited resources are what make us who we are. Without them, we would have no way to think or communicate. Kant agreed that we need these resources to develop, but he insisted that we must not be trapped by them. He argued that just because a belief or a custom has been passed down for a long time does not mean it is true or good. For Kant, the true mark of being human is the ability to use reason to examine our traditions and decide whether to keep them or change them. The authors of the paper emphasize that this is not a battle between tradition and reason, but a question of how they relate. Herder showed us that we cannot be human without history, while Kant showed us that we are not merely products of history.

The authors conclude that this debate is far from over. In fact, it feels more relevant today than ever before. They point to the rise of artificial intelligence and large language models as a modern test case for this old argument. These computer programs can generate complex sentences, write stories, and answer questions with a fluency that mimics human speech. From a Herderian perspective, this raises a question: if a machine can produce language, does it have the same kind of meaning that human language has, which is rooted in our bodies, our emotions, and our shared history? From a Kantian perspective, the question is different: does the ability to produce language mean the machine has rational agency, or the ability to make moral choices? The paper suggests that neither side has the final answer. A complete understanding of language requires both views: we must see language as a historical product that shapes us, but also as a practice that allows us to think freely and judge our world.

Ultimately, the paper argues that the Kant-Herder debate is not about choosing one side over the other. It is about recognizing that human beings exist in a space between two realities. We are shaped by the natural world and the history we inherit, just as Herder described. But we also possess a capacity for reason and moral judgment that allows us to stand apart from those conditions and shape them, as Kant insisted. The authors suggest that ignoring either side leads to an incomplete picture of humanity. If we only focus on our development, we might forget our freedom. If we only focus on our reason, we might forget our humanity. The enduring value of their disagreement lies in keeping both questions alive: how did we become who we are, and what does it mean to be free?