From the naturalistic point of view, all men are equal. There are

The words of Mikhail Bakunin — “From the naturalistic point of view, all men are equal. There are only two exceptions to this rule of naturalistic equality: geniuses and idiots.” — are both bold and piercing, born from the mind of a revolutionary who sought to understand the laws that govern both nature and society. In this statement, Bakunin, the 19th-century Russian philosopher and anarchist, does not merely speak of human worth; he speaks of the eternal balance of nature, which grants equality to all beings, yet still allows for rare extremes — the genius, who rises above the ordinary, and the idiot, who falls beneath it. Between these two poles moves the great tide of humanity — vast, equal, and endlessly striving.

Bakunin, a thinker forged in the fires of revolution, lived in a time of social upheaval. Monarchs ruled by divine right, wealth governed the fate of the poor, and power masqueraded as wisdom. Against this world, he raised his voice to proclaim that equality is not the invention of governments, but the law of nature itself. Every man, he said, is born with the same claim to life and dignity. No title, no crown, no inheritance can make one soul more sacred than another. Yet, even as he exalted this natural equality, Bakunin acknowledged that nature herself creates exceptions — the geniuses, who illuminate humanity with the light of creation, and the idiots, who exist at the farthest edges of reason and capacity. These two, he said, are the anomalies that prove the rule: that nature, while just, is never uniform.

The meaning of his words lies in this paradox. To say that all men are equal is not to say that all are identical. Equality, in the naturalistic sense, is not sameness of talent or intelligence, but sameness of value — the equal right to exist, to think, to strive, and to be free. In the grand design of the universe, every human life stands upon the same sacred foundation. Yet within this field of equality, the genius and the idiot mark the outer boundaries of human potential — the summit of brilliance and the valley of incapacity. These are not moral judgments but observations of the variety inherent in creation. Nature, in her infinite wisdom, produces diversity, not uniformity, and it is through this diversity that humanity as a whole advances.

The genius, in Bakunin’s vision, is not a ruler over others but a servant of humanity’s progress. He stands apart not by privilege, but by the gift of vision — the power to see farther, to think deeper, to create what others cannot. Such men and women — Newton, Beethoven, Da Vinci, Curie — are like torches in the vast night, revealing what was hidden and shaping what was possible. Yet even they are not exempt from the equality of existence. For though they soar higher in intellect, they share the same hunger, the same mortality, the same heart that beats within all men. The idiot, too, occupies his place in the order of things, reminding us that perfection is not the law of life. He calls forth our compassion, our humility, our sense of shared destiny. Thus, both extremes — the genius and the idiot — remind us of our humanity and of nature’s impartial justice.

History gives us many examples of this truth. Consider Ludwig van Beethoven, a genius whose music reshaped the sound of the world. Yet he, the man of divine melodies, was struck deaf before his greatest works were written. He stood equal to every man in suffering, though unequal in gift. His genius did not lift him above the trials of life — it magnified them. And at the same time, think of those who history calls “simple” — men and women of little intellect, yet great kindness, whose gentleness has healed more hearts than the wisdom of scholars ever could. In these opposites, the words of Bakunin find their echo: nature gives brilliance to some, limitation to others, but worth to all.

Bakunin’s philosophy was not a celebration of hierarchy, but of balance. He saw that society errs when it exalts genius as divine or despises weakness as worthless. The true harmony of humanity lies in the recognition that we are all threads in the same fabric. The genius cannot exist without the multitude who learn from him, and the multitude would wander in darkness without the rare light of genius. Likewise, compassion toward those of lesser capacity ennobles the soul, reminding us that strength finds its truest meaning in service. Equality, then, is not the denial of difference, but the reverence of every form of life that nature has created.

And so, my children, learn this wisdom: do not mistake equality for sameness, nor difference for division. All men are born under the same sky, nourished by the same earth, and destined for the same dust. Honor the genius, but do not worship him. Pity the fool, but do not scorn him. For both, in their way, reveal what it means to be human. The genius teaches us what humanity can achieve; the idiot reminds us of what it must protect. Between these two poles lies the vast field of ordinary souls — you and I — upon whose cooperation the world turns.

Thus, the teaching of Mikhail Bakunin endures: all men are equal in nature, for nature herself grants every being a place in her design. The extremes of genius and idiocy do not divide us but define the boundaries of our shared condition. Let us, therefore, walk humbly within that truth — cherishing the diversity of the human spirit, lifting one another through compassion, and remembering that though the mind may differ in strength, the soul of man is ever one.