Spinoza's Critique of Hope
Why hope and fear are inseparable, and why both belong to uncertain knowledge.
I.
Hope is among the most treasured of human emotions. We encourage it in children, rely on it in adversity, and treat its absence as a symptom of depression or despair. Spinoza classifies hope as a passion of weakness, not a virtue. Hope is not a sign of resilience. It is a sign of uncertainty, and it is always, by its nature, accompanied by fear.
The reasoning is geometric. Hope is an inconstant joy, arising from the idea of a future or past event whose outcome we doubt. If the doubt were removed, the hope would become confidence: a constant joy. If the event were certain not to occur, the hope would become despair. But as long as doubt remains, fear remains alongside the hope. You cannot hope for an outcome without fearing its opposite, because hoping implies you do not know which will occur.
II.
This inseparability is the key to Spinoza's critique. Hope and fear are not opposites. They are two aspects of the same state of uncertainty. The hopeful person is also, necessarily, a fearful person. His hope is the measure of his fear. The more he hopes, the more he has invested in an outcome he cannot guarantee, and the more acutely he feels the threat of its loss.
This is why hope is a passion of the weak. The strong mind acts from adequate ideas, which produce certainty, not hope. When you understand a situation adequately, you do not hope for a particular outcome. You understand what must happen given the causes in play, and you act accordingly. Hope is what fills the gap when understanding fails.
III.
The political dimension is worth noting. Rulers have always understood the utility of hope. A population that hopes for better conditions is easier to govern than one that demands them. Hope defers satisfaction. It redirects attention from present causes to future possibilities. It pacifies. The promise of a better tomorrow, whether from a politician, a religious leader, or a corporate manager, is one of the oldest tools of social control.
Spinoza would have us replace hope with understanding. Instead of hoping for better conditions, understand the causes of present suffering and address them. Instead of hoping for a favorable outcome, calculate the probabilities and act on the most likely scenario. Instead of hoping for rescue, build the capacity to rescue yourself. Hope is passive. Action is active. The free person acts.
IV.
This is not a counsel of despair. Fear is the opposite of hope within the same framework of uncertainty: the inconstant sadness arising from the idea of a future event whose outcome we doubt. Despair, by contrast, is sadness about a future evil whose occurrence has become certain in the imagination: the inconstant sadness arising from the idea of a future event whose outcome we doubt. Despair is as passive as hope, and as rooted in ignorance. The person who despairs is no more free than the person who hopes. Both are governed by uncertain ideas of the future rather than by adequate understanding of the present.
The Spinozan alternative to hope and despair alike is confidence: the constant joy that arises from adequate knowledge. When you understand the causal structure of a situation, you know what will happen, or at least you know the range of possible outcomes and their probabilities. You act from that knowledge, and you accept the results as necessary, whatever they are. There is no room for hope, because there is no room for doubt.
V.
The practical question is whether this standard is attainable. Can a finite being ever possess knowledge so adequate that hope becomes unnecessary? Probably not, in most domains. The future is genuinely uncertain for finite minds with finite information. But the direction of improvement is clear: reduce the domain of hope by expanding the domain of knowledge. Every situation you understand more adequately is a situation you no longer need to hope about.
This is the deep wisdom in Spinoza's critique of hope. He is not telling you to stop wanting things. He is telling you to stop wanting things whose attainment you cannot influence through understanding. Hope is the tax that uncertainty levies on desire. Reduce the uncertainty, and you reduce the tax. Eliminate it, and you eliminate the need for hope entirely.