Maimon’s Enlightened Skepticism and the Problem of Natural Sciences

Abstract

Despite being a prominent and influential figure in the German and Jewish Enlightenment, Salomon Maimon’s skeptical standpoint seems to veer towards radical and unsustainable assertions, denying the validity of any knowledge—including natural science—except for mathematics. This paper seeks to demonstrate that Maimon’s skepticism concerning non-mathematical knowledge does not propose an incoherent skepticism nor contradict the enlightened perspective of developing natural sciences. To achieve this, I aim to show that (1) Maimon’s radical claim originates from the radical nature of the question he answers, and (2) the key to understanding it lies in grasping the concept of synthesis in his philosophy, from which different meanings of knowledge follow.

1. Introduction

The idea that skepticism played no role in the Enlightenment of the eighteenth-century (Popkin 1997), as it seemingly contradicts its central principle of ‘trust in reason’, is nowadays regarded as an outdated interpretation. Although still working towards a comprehensive understanding of the complexity of the Aufklärung, current scholars acknowledge skepticism as a fundamental aspect of it (Matytsin 2016). This presence is not viewed as a mere methodological tool à la Descartes, in line with the ‘critical, suspicious attitude of the Enlightenment towards doctrines traditionally regarded as well founded’ (Bristow 2017). Scholars are now interested in considering skepticism in the Enlightenment as a philosophical standpoint, supported by actual ‘sceptical theses concerning the capacity of human reason’ (Charles and Smith 2013, p. ix). The Enlightenment is the ‘age of reason’, but this does not mean an optimistic trust in knowledge; instead, it involves setting ‘its own boundaries’ (Tonelli 1997, p. 35)1, as evidenced by thinkers such as Hume or Bayle (Wright 2019).

Among these authors, an emblematic figure is the post-Kantian Salomon Maimon. He emerged as one of the most important skeptics of his time2, maintaining this standpoint across various topics3 throughout his entire body of work, culminating in his final piece appropriately titled ‘The Moral Sceptic’ (Maimon 1800). At the same time, Maimon’s attempt to establish both the possibilities and limits of knowledge against acritical assumptions can be considered as one of his main contributions to the development of the German (Socher 2006) and the Jewish Enlightenment (Barnouw 2002), making him a ‘philosopher between two cultures’4 (Freudenthal 2003).

However, the situation is more intricate than it seems. While delving into the limits of knowledge, Maimon advocates for a rather counterintuitive and radical proposition: he contends that the only real knowledge is the mathematical, dismissing anything else, including the natural sciences, as pseudo-knowledge. Maimon does not merely question the epistemic efficacy of empirical knowledge; he outright denies it. Therein lies the crux of the matter: first, by denying the validity of natural sciences and physics, his skepticism extends beyond the limits of doubt, of skepsis in its most genuine sense of ‘inquire’. Thus, Maimon’s claim seems to align more closely with a dogmatic and uncritical assumption, which thinkers of this epoch struggled to avoid, being opposite to skepticism as the ‘ideal attitude of rational inquiry’ (Smith 2013, p. 24). Second, it appears challenging to reconcile such a radical stance with Enlightenment ideals, which strongly aimed at grounding and improving natural sciences, as these constituted the cornerstones of 18th-century comprehension of reality (Hankins 1985). Regarding the natural sciences, the skeptical vein resembles more Fontenelle’s ‘wise Pyrrhonism’, where ‘truths might always be revised’ (Peterschmitt 2013, p. 89), but are certainly not considered as lacking any epistemic value per se.

Consequently, Maimon’s figure not only appears far from embodying the perfect reception of skepticism within the Enlightenment principles, but his standpoint also raises issues for both.

Given the controversial nature of Maimon’s position, consistently reiterated throughout his works, it is somewhat surprising that this specific aspect has not received significant attention thus far. To the best of my knowledge, while Radrizzani (2013) is the sole scholar addressing the connection between skepticism and Enlightenment in Maimon’s philosophy, the implications of his skeptical theory for natural sciences have remained unexplored.

This article aims to address this gap in the scholarship. The objective is to demonstrate that Maimon’s skepticism concerning non-mathematical knowledge does not propose an incoherent skepticism nor contradict the enlightened perspective of foundational and developing natural sciences. On the contrary, I argue that it hinges on the precise question that Maimon seeks to answer, namely the nature of apodictic knowledge. As I elucidate in the forthcoming pages, the key to understanding this lies in grasping the concept of synthesis in Maimon’s philosophy.

This article will delve into this concept, distinguishing between its three possible kinds; subsequently, it will scrutinize the implications of it for Maimon’s conception of the limits of knowledge and discuss his relationship with natural sciences. In the end, it will summarize some final remarks.

2. The Different Kinds of Synthesis

As previously mentioned, Maimon’s skeptical standpoint is radical and controversial, asserting that only mathematics constitutes real knowledge and consistently restating it in his works. Among various references in his texts, I quote below an example from his Essay on New Logic because it is particularly concise and clear:

‘we have no other (real) objective knowledge than the mathematical, and the so-called empirical cognition is only apparent cognition [Scheinerkenntniß]’.

(Maimon 1794c, p. 120)

In this quote, Maimon refers to mathematics as ‘real objective knowledge’, while at other times he defines it as ‘necessary’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 118), or ‘universally valid’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 125). The problem is that in other passages, while talking about ‘knowledge’, he does not use any further adjective (be it ‘objective’ or ‘necessary’). This poses challenges for commentators seeking to explain whether ‘knowledge’ and ‘real knowledge’ are intentionally used as synonyms or, at times, if it just depends on a lack of clarity in Maimon’s writings. What is also puzzling here is the term ‘real’, the meaning of which is for sure not univocal.

Before delving into the details and consequences of this statement, a more pressing question for presenting Maimon’s perspective must be addressed: on what basis does Maimon make this statement? Despite its radical natural, his claim is not therefore unjustified.

1. To understand the argumentation underlying Maimon’s assertion, two main points must be considered: what ‘knowledge’ is and what ‘real’ means. Like Kant and the entire Kantian tradition, for Maimon ‘knowledge’ has to do with (i) the notion of synthesis; however, in contrast to Kant, in Maimon’s conception, the feature ‘real’ depends on the (ii) kind of synthesis under consideration.

(i) Regarding the notion of synthesis, Maimon provides the following definition: synthesis is the ‘connection’ of several elements or a manifold ‘in a unity of consciousness’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 12). At times, he employs a similar formula for ‘thinking’, describing it as the act of ‘bringing a multiplicity to unity’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 12). As already mentioned, Maimon’s understanding of synthesis aligns with Kant’s, who defines it as ‘the action of putting different representations together with each other and comprehending their manifoldness in one cognition’ (Kant 1998, p. 210; A77/B103).

However, Maimon’s perspective diverges from Kant’s when the notion of synthesis is examined more closely. For instance, Kant speaks about a ‘pure’ and an ‘empirical’ synthesis (Kant 1998, pp. 120, 261; B103, 160), based on the a priori or a posteriori origin of the manifold of the synthesis. He also differentiates between a synthesis ‘speciosa’ and ‘intellectualis’ (Kant 1998, p. 256; B151), to refer to the faculty—imagination or understanding, respectively—implied in it. Furthermore, he talks about a ‘regressive’ and ‘progressive’ synthesis (Kant 1998, p. 462; B438), concerning the process of inferring from the next condition to the farther one or vice versa.

Maimon has a quite different idea on the matter: ‘connecting a manifold in a unity’ can be performed in different ways. But he contends that the differentiation between kinds of synthesis relates to the structure of judgment itself, rather than the empirical or pure origin of the manifold, the faculties involved, or the direction of inferences. In other words, according to Maimon, the types of synthesis vary based on the specific judgment under consideration or the particular elements or terms being united.

(ii) According to Maimon, the elements of the union, the ‘subject’ and the ‘predicate’ of a judgment, can relate to each other in only three possible ways, as follows:

A. Dependent on each other. In this case, the terms are given together in the judgment or, in other words, one cannot be without the other. They reciprocally refer to each other.

B. Independent of each other. The terms are joined together in the judgment, but they have nothing to do with each other. As Maimon often expresses, they can stand alone without the other (Maimon 1794c, p. 23).

C. Only one depends on the other. In this scenario, only one of the two terms (predicate) depends on the other (subject). This means that it can be the predicate of that subject only, but not vice versa.

A. The first case does not really present a ‘new’ union between the terms. In a sense, if we conceive synthesis as connecting elements into a unity of consciousness, then situation A. is only improperly called ‘synthesis’, as the elements are already united. In other words, this resembles more of an explication or description of already connected elements. This case aligns with what Kant terms an analytical judgment: the union or synthesis observed in the judgment does not contribute anything new to knowledge (see Kant 1998, p. 141; A7/B10s). In other words, it does not increase what we already know about something nor does it present a new object we did not know before. As an example, this type of judgment is illustrated by a sentence like ‘a triangle has three angles’, where the subject ‘triangle’ already contains the characteristic of having ‘three angles’.

B. In the second case, the situation changes: a synthesis, as the union of two elements, actually occurs. However, here, subject and predicate (or the manifold to be unified) have no inherent connection. So, Maimon raises the following question: on what basis or reason does this union take place? In other words, since the two terms are not in any relation of dependence on each other, the ground of their union does not lie within the judgment itself, but in something else. Maimon refers to this type of synthesis as ‘arbitrary’.

Consistent with his polemic and provocative tone, to make his point, Maimon provides a rather unusual example of this kind of judgment. For him, it corresponds to a sentence like ‘the virtue is triangular’ or, using another of his favorites, ‘the line is sweet’ (Maimon 1794a, p. 9). As evident, the subject ‘virtue’ and the predicate ‘triangular’ are entirely independent of each other and are only arbitrarily joined. Anyway, the judgment is not deemed unreal due to its lack of reason, but because its reason (the ground of the union between the ‘virtue’ and the ‘being triangular’) is somehow missing, as it does not reside within the judgment itself.

Here comes the very radical statement: as Maimon emphasizes the importance of the ground between the two terms, any judgment where the subject and the predicate are independent of each other holds the same ‘value’ as affirming that virtue is triangular. This implies that even a judgment like ‘the table is brown’ is equally arbitrary. It might have its ground in the experience, but for sure not in the judgment itself. However, it is essential to note that Maimon is not suggesting that the judgment is untrue because my perception could be wrong; or that I cannot make claims about empirical reality due to untrustworthy senses, since maybe I’m dreaming or hallucinating or being affected by achromatopsia. Instead, Maimon asserts that if the grounds for the elements connected in a judgment do not lie within the judgment itself but in something else (anything else), that ground cannot be considered necessary. In summary, arbitrary synthesis indicates a lack of a necessary foundation, which includes all empirical judgments.

C. In the third case, the union between the elements of the judgment holds a different value; it is not merely an arbitrary connection, but a necessary one. As can be inferred from the previous case, the ground of the third kind of synthesis lies in the judgment and between its very terms. As mentioned before, this type of union occurs when one term depends on the other, but not vice versa. According to Maimon, this kind of relationship renders the judgment necessarily structured. An example he often employs is the following: ‘the straight line is the shortest between two points’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 430). In this instance, the predicate ‘the shortest between two points’ can only and uniquely be predicated of the ‘straight line’; it is not an object itself, nor can it be the predicate of other subjects, like the capital of Sweden or my dog. Conversely, the ‘straight line’ is an object itself and can have various other predicates, such as ‘geometrical object’ or ‘infinitely long’. This synthesis, therefore, has a necessary foundation within the judgment itself.

In light of this, it may become clearer why the judgment ‘the table is brown’ cannot correspond to the third kind of synthesis: the subject ‘table’ can have several predicates (such as ‘round’ or ‘made of wood’, etc.); but, at the same time, the predicate ‘being brown’ can also be connected to several other subjects (like ‘the closet’ or ‘a tree trunk’). Anyway, to this analysis should be added another explanation, this time regarding the propositions of mathematics.

Let us accept, as Maimon suggests, that a judgment wherein the reason for the connection between subject and predicate does not lie within the judgment itself lacks a necessary union between the terms. Let us also acknowledge that this is the case for empirical judgments, where that reason lies in experience. That said, Maimon makes another radical statement: since a judgment contains a necessary synthesis only when the elements are in a relationship of dependence (predicate) and independence (subject) with each other, therefore only the propositions of mathematics can correspond to this case. At this point, the reader might wonder, why mathematics? Did Maimon thoroughly review all possible judgments and then establish that only propositions in mathematics express a necessary synthesis?

To address this question, I need to introduce another fundamental concept for Maimon’s philosophy, as well as the entire Kantian tradition—the concept of construction. For these authors, two primary aspects define the nature of mathematical knowledge: first, its synthetic nature; and second, its distinction from other sciences, including philosophy5 (see Kant 1998, p. 630; A713/B741; Maimon 1794a, p. 135s), because it constructs its objects. As famously stated by Kant, ‘to construct a concept means to exhibit a priori the intuition corresponding to it’ (Kant 1998, p. 630; A714/B742). In simpler terms, for these thinkers, the objects of mathematics differ from empirical phenomena that can be observed, classified, and perhaps understood under universal laws, but are given to us. Instead, objects of mathematics are ‘produced’ through rules of the understanding and the a priori forms of space and time6. This implies that for an object of mathematics, there is no ‘application’ of a general rule to a particular intuition, but rather the simultaneous creation of a particular through a universal: ‘All mathematical objects are at the same time thought by us and exhibited as real objects through a priori construction. Thus, we are in this respect similar to God’ (Maimon 1793d, p. 20).

Mathematical construction seems to trace the confines of our limited intellect or capacities of knowledge regarding an infinite intellect or God7: ‘God thinks all real objects, not merely according to the theorem of contradiction so highly praised in our philosophy, but as we think (though in a more complete way) the objects of mathematics, i.e., he produces them simultaneously through thinking’ (Maimon 1793d, p. 20). In other words, when it comes to mathematical objects, we construct them as God, an infinite intellect, constructs all kinds of objects. This means, ultimately, that a mathematical judgment is the sole case in which subject and predicate cannot be unified arbitrarily, but only necessarily.8

2. At the beginning of this paragraph, I emphasized that Maimon follows Kant in the general definition of synthesis as the union in manifold but distances himself from Kant because of his idea of different types of synthesis. By the end of this exploration, the meaning of the two main concepts in Maimon’s claim should be clearer. (i) Knowledge is the act of bringing together a manifold, achievable in various ways. When Maimon refers to the third type of synthesis as necessary, he also labels it (ii) ‘real’.

This crucial point is not often elucidated by scholars. Understanding Maimon’s theory requires grasping the nuanced meanings of these notions; otherwise, it appears rather perplexing. As mentioned, Maimon aligns with Kant in the general idea of synthesis and the definition of analytic judgment. However, their paths diverge afterward. For Kant, judgments are categorized as analytic or synthetic, where the distinctions in types of synthesis are unrelated to the relationship between the subject and predicate. Even the difference between necessary and contingent synthesis, in Kant’s view, is not tied to the subject–predicate relationship but rather to the empirical or pure origin of the manifold. A synthetic judgment for Kant simply means a predicate not included in the subject (see Kant 1998, p. 141; A6/B10).

Maimon not only presents a different view but also changes the terms. In his vocabulary, the three analyzed syntheses are also referred to as relations of determinability, where ‘that about which something is said’ (subject) is the determinable, and ‘what is said about’ it (predicate) is the determination. The use of these terms represents, in my view, a clear attempt to move beyond Kantian terminology and avoid problematic consequences, such as the idea that knowledge is defined by the combination of ‘form’ and ‘matter’, or ambiguous expressions as ‘representation’, which, for Maimon, ‘has made much mischief in philosophy’ (Kant 1999, p. 388). On the contrary, he explains knowledge in terms of relations of determinability (‘descriptive’, ‘arbitrary’, and ‘necessary’) between determinables and determinations9.

3. The Limits of Knowledge

The preceding analysis aided in elucidating the argument underlying Maimon’s radical assertion regarding what constitutes real knowledge. Since, for Maimon, a judgment is ‘real’ only when it involves the third type of synthesis, anything that does not correspond to it is not considered real. Therefore, according to Maimon, only mathematics qualifies as valid knowledge because its propositions contain a necessary synthesis between their elements. In contrast, empirical knowledge falls into the second type, categorizing it as arbitrary synthesis. This, as mentioned in the introduction, makes it very difficult not to condemn Maimon’s skepticism to a dogmatic ultimate view of reality, as well as seeing him as a thinker whose ideas do not align with the main foundations of the Enlightenment spirit.

1. More specifically, Maimon’s perspective raises a few problematic consequences. First (i), by differentiating necessary synthesis from arbitrary synthesis, it appears that Maimon is not merely stating that mathematics holds more knowledge than other disciplines but asserting that there is no knowledge apart from mathematics. It is not a hierarchical structure with varying degrees of certainty but a distinct dichotomy: either mathematics or nothing. ‘I limit synthetic cognition merely to cognition of that through which a real object is first determined. The concepts […] of objects of mathematics belong to synthetic cognition’ (Maimon 1794c, p. 123). This viewpoint gives rise to the radical stance mentioned in the introduction: by adopting this perspective, Maimon not only casts doubt on empirical judgment but denies its status as knowledge, encompassing natural sciences as well. Such a claim is challenging to sustain, both in Maimon’s times and today.

Secondly (ii), if this is the case, it leads to another rather odd consequence. How could Maimon assert that only mathematics is knowledge and dismiss everything else as non-knowledge, especially when he wrote extensively about psychology and physics? Maimon undeniably harbored a profound interest in these sciences. This is a historical fact.

To provide examples, he served as a co-editor for a renowned magazine founded by K. P. Moritz, titled Magazin zur Erfahrungsseelenkunde, where the contributions primarily delved into psychology. Key topics included dreams, illusions, beliefs, the mind/body relationship, language according to psychology, as well as phenomena like deaf-mutism and melancholia. Throughout his three years as the journal’s co-editor, Maimon authored almost 20 papers for Magazin and engaged in discussions on psychology with significant thinkers of the time, sparking controversies such as those with J. Veit, J. H. Obereits, and A. Wolfssohn. Moreover, he displayed profound knowledge in the field of physics. For instance, he contributed to Pemberton’s German translation of Newton’s Principles (Maimon 1793a), providing the introduction and a series of extensive notes. Another notable text is the Ta’alumoth Hochma (Mysteries of Wisdom), written around 1786, which serves as a treatise on Newtonian physics in Hebrew. If Maimon genuinely believed that natural sciences amounted to nothing, his behavior appears extremely incongruent.

Finally (iii), setting aside, for a moment, the issue of dismissing all the natural sciences, another significant concern arises from Maimon’s argument about the second type of synthesis, i.e., the arbitrary one. In the previous paragraph, two examples of this kind of connection were presented, one concerning the triangular nature of virtue and the other the brown color of the table. In that instance, Maimon asserted that the two judgments hold the same value since they both express the same kind of synthesis. Now, how could Maimon ever equate these two examples? How can he argue that affirming that ‘the line is sweet’ is the same as saying ‘my computer is white’ or ‘the Tour Eiffel is made of iron’? This is undeniably a statement that is hard to accept.

2. At this juncture, I can posit the central thesis of this paper. The assertion that mathematics is the sole certain knowledge, expressing a necessary synthesis, does not inherently negate the existence of other forms of knowledge in Maimon’s framework. As expounded in the previous paragraph, the concept of knowledge hinges on the notion of synthesis. This implies that the possibility of another type of knowledge, albeit not ‘real’ in Maimon’s terms, is not ruled out by his argument. To state it more emphatically, the correlation ‘synthesis = knowledge, hence different types of synthesis = different types of knowledge’ naturally emerges from Maimon’s argument.

However, the reason why this possibility is not immediately evident in his theory stems from the fact that his use of terms appears (only appear!) quite erratic. Maimon often utilizes ‘knowledge’ interchangeably with ‘certain knowledge’, explicitly addressing the potential existence of other types of knowledge. In other words, following Maimon’s argument implies this possibility, but adhering strictly to his terminology might suggest otherwise. This semantic intricacy adds to the perplexity of Maimon’s scholars.

I mentioned that this use only appears to be arbitrary because it indeed serves a purpose. Maimon is not being careless in his choice of words. The reason for this lies in the fundamental question at stake when Maimon affirms that knowledge is only mathematical. And this question is, how can I know with certainty? If the answer pertains only to necessary knowledge, any other kind of synthesis is not knowledge. Consequently, saying ‘knowledge’ or ‘certain knowledge’ is essentially the same.

That this is Maimon’s question arises from his aim to resolve the fundamental dilemmas faced by all post-Kantians: what defines certainty? What can be considered valid, and what cannot? Especially, how can philosophy attain the status of a science? Maimon adheres to the Kantian definition of it, wherein ‘science’ denotes ‘apodictic knowledge’ and, therefore, ‘necessary’: ‘What can be called proper science is only that whose certainty is apodictic; cognition that can contain mere empirical certainty is only knowledge improperly so-called’ (Kant 2004, p. 4).

Another misleading use of terms is ‘arbitrary’, contributing to the interpretation of Maimon as an inconsistent skeptic, a characterization that I intend to reject. As mentioned, Kant distinguishes between a ‘pure’ synthesis, where the manifold is given a priori (as with space and time, see Kant 1998, p. 210; B103), and an ‘empirical’ one, i.e., the composition of the manifold in an empirical intuition, through which perception becomes possible (see Kant 1998, p. 261; B160). Maimon, on the other hand, eschews terms like ‘empirical’ (empirisch) or ‘contingent’ (zufällig) (as the opposite of ‘necessary’). Instead, he consistently opts for the term ‘arbitrary’ (willkürlich), without providing an explicit explanation.

Even though not entirely successful, this term being another reason for ambiguity, I believe that Maimon employs ‘arbitrary’ to convey the opposite. While ‘contingency’ might have a basis in the empirical and, in a certain sense, still suggests a dimension somewhat beyond the subject’s control or entirely independent, the word ‘arbitrary’, on the other hand, evokes ‘free will’, hinting at the capacity to choose among different alternatives. In this light, Maimon seeks to be provocative, illustrating how an empirical judgment is not only ‘not necessary’ but also arbitrary, depending on the will of the subject making the judgment. However, it is crucial to emphasize once again that the term ‘arbitrary’ and its radical meaning only operate within the framework of the question of apodictic science, not in general. In other words, empirical knowledge can be called arbitrary only from the perspective of necessary knowledge.

After this analysis, I can give an answer to the problematic consequences of Maimon’s perspective raised in the first part of this paragraph (3.1), as follows:

Answer to (i). The radical nature of Maimon’s claim, asserting that only mathematics is knowledge, originates from the radical nature of the question he addresses. Therefore, from this standpoint, only mathematics can be considered knowledge since it alone satisfies the criterion of apodicticity. This response aims to answer the first problematic consequence mentioned earlier: Maimon does not assert the absence of other knowledge apart from mathematics; rather, he contends that real, valid knowledge—concerning apodictic certainty—is exclusive to mathematics.

Answer to (ii). Considering the other type of synthesis, it can be observed that the arbitrary one is still a type of synthesis and does not indicate its absence. This suggests that it can also be termed ‘knowledge’, though not ‘certain knowledge’. From the general perspective of one’s cognitive relationship with the world (not focusing on the question of the possibility of science in the strict sense), empirical knowledge retains its status as knowledge and expresses a synthesis, even though it does not fulfill the criterion of ‘real thinking’. This is why Maimon refers to it as ‘apparent knowledge’ (Scheinerkenntniß).

Thus, there is not only mathematics as certain knowledge in Maimon’s view, but also other types of knowledge, such as the empirical knowledge of the natural sciences. This should address the second problematic consequence mentioned earlier: Maimon does not dismiss natural sciences, he categorizes them as not meeting the criterion of apodicticity when addressing this specific philosophical problem. This indicates that his interest in them is not proof of incongruence but rather evidence of his valuation of them.

Answer to (iii). To address the last difficulty previously mentioned, it is once more essential to consider Maimon’s argument about mathematics in relation to the problem of defining the conditions of an apodictic science and its main consequence. Only from this perspective are natural sciences regarded as having no knowledge at all, and seemingly peculiar statements such as ‘the virtue is triangular’ being equivalent to ‘the table is brown’ start making sense. Again, Maimon seeks to be controversial and aims to make a point: these judgments have the same value only from the standpoint of science stricto sensu, since they essentially have no value; otherwise, Maimon would not assert that every judgment is generally equivalent to another. As in other cases discussed, his way of expressing himself proves to be a double-edged sword—it challenges the prominent view of his time but can also lead to misunderstandings.

In this regard, Maimon is not dismissing one form of knowledge over another; rather, he is establishing criteria for defining knowledge based on the main question he is addressing. Maimon’s seemingly controversial claims serve the purpose of outlining the limits of knowledge, a limit that is shaped by the specific question or perspective from which he is approaching it.

4. Final Remarks

This paper commenced by highlighting the following issue: Maimon, recognized as a skeptic and a prominent figure of the Enlightenment, seemed to present a dogmatic perspective in his skeptical stance against the value of empirical knowledge and natural sciences, creating a contrast with the main ideas of the 18th-century Aufklärung.

As explained in the first paragraph, synthesis means bringing together a manifold in unity. This does not imply, however, that every connection is equal to others; on the contrary, it means that it can be performed in different ways.

To address this issue, an exploration of the concept of synthesis, defining the structure of knowledge, was undertaken. Synthesis, as explained in the first paragraph, involves bringing together a manifold into unity. However, not every connection is equal, and Maimon distinguishes between types of synthesis based on the nature of the judgment. A synthesis is descriptive when the judgment does not provide any new knowledge, but rather makes explicit the union of terms that are already united. The synthesis is then arbitrary when the union between the terms is not based on a necessary foundation, as in the case of empirical judgments and natural sciences. Finally, the synthesis is necessary when the union between the elements of the judgment occurs because of their relationship. In any case, the emphasis on one type over others is determined by the primary question under investigation.

As elucidated in the second paragraph, this question concerns the conditions for apodictic knowledge—a problem he, along with the entire post-Kantian debate, considers crucial for transcendental research. This is because only certain knowledge defines a science stricto sensu. However, this does not imply the absence of any knowledge or sciences of a different kind.

In light of this interpretation of Maimon’s theory, the supposed dogmatic standpoint appears as a simplistic interpretation that overlooks the main philosophical problem he aims to solve. Similarly, Maimon’s critical and enlightened aspect is shown to be consistent, delineating the limits of knowledge more extensively than Kant himself. As demonstrated, Maimon is not rejecting natural sciences, nor is he proposing an unsustainable skepticism; rather, he represents a complete combination of both—a stance that can be characterized as enlightened skepticism.