Justus Wittich, Executive Board member and Treasurer of the Goetheanum, celebrates his 70th birthday on September 10, 2025. Enno Schmidt spoke with him about his life, his gift for bringing a sense of responsibility to life, and his vision of how anthroposophy can be put into practice, economically and spiritually.
One could describe the life of Justus Wittich as a life devoted to the Anthroposophical Society and movement. Even as a young man and during his studies of economics in Berlin, he was actively involved in anthroposophical youth work and initiated a series of student conferences. From the very beginning, internationalism was not a barrier for him, but rather an open connection to the world. “It was a powerful experience to meet people everywhere who, based on a similar spiritual impulse or attitude, worked very differently in their own fields, but were nevertheless spiritually connected.”
A Berlin Waldorf student conference in 1978, inviting all of Germany, which he’d played a key role in organizing, was entitled, “The Old House Is Falling Apart. Let’s Build a New One.”
“In the 1970s, there was a whole generational shift. High school students at Waldorf and Rudolf Steiner schools were awake and organized themselves on a transregional basis. There were international student conferences, starting in 1975 in The Hague, then in 1976 in Basel, 1977 in Stockholm, 1978 in Berlin, and 1979 in Bern. They became increasingly international. At first, they were purely European, then American students joined, and later Brazilians as well. A worldwide impulse emerged. From these student initiatives, Andreas Büttner, Nana Göbel, and the doyen of Waldorf schools in Germany, Ernst Weissert, developed the Friends of Waldorf Education [Freunde der Erziehungskunst] in Stuttgart. For me, this was a logical continuation after my studies.”
Justus Wittich established an international aid fund for this association in Stuttgart, became its managing director and editor of the journal Erziehungskunst [Art of education] as assistant to Manfred Leist, “… even though I knew nothing about education.” But he did know about journals. He’d already published some as a high school student. And management? “After school, I didn’t know what to study. There were various possibilities. I always had an affinity for economics, finance, and legal issues. Actually, though, that’s not really what I want to do, nor is it my intention. But I always end up there.” He didn’t associate his studies with a specific career aspiration, but he was able to use what he’d learned there about economic thinking to create an economic form of society for others in which they could realize their ideas.
Things Have to Change
At student conferences, Justus met many of the “interesting alternative thinkers and prominent anthroposophists of the time,” such as Robert Jungk, John Davy, Heinz Buddemeier, Friedrich Benesch, Lex Bos, and Freimut Duve, editor of the Rowohlt book series “rororo aktuell,” as well as the then 16-year-old Otto Scharmer and others in their younger years who later would become well-known. In Stuttgart, from 1979 onwards, his work was connected with the Union of Independent Waldorf Schools [Bund der Freien Waldorfschulen]. “The old ‘warriors’ from the post-war period were still active there. I was able to experience them firsthand.” He was able to connect with this generation and continue their work with his own intentions. “We grew out of the student movement into the Youth Section.”
When he began his time in Stuttgart in 1979, he moved in with his wife and fellow campaigner, Claudia Grah, and together they became active in both the Youth Section and the Christian Community Youth. A decisive experience for both of them between 1978 and 1979 was a large anthroposophical youth conference with Jörgen Smit in Kings Langley. “This shook me up so much that I then joined the Society. For me, it had too much of a mystical atmosphere. English post-war buildings, winter, it was gloomy, candlelight, a large circle in semi-darkness, lofty spiritual speeches. One person went crazy and wouldn’t stop talking. It was clear to me then: this kind of mysticism won’t do. This is not anthroposophy as is needed in the twentieth century! Now I’m joining the Society. Things have to change!” Jörgen Smit was different. “He was already a role model for me at the student conferences. There was clarity, directness, and insight.”
You went to a Waldorf school. Do you come from an anthroposophical family?
JW: No. Ultimately, I have a speech impediment to thank for my Waldorf school education. I had developed my own childhood language early on, which those around me couldn’t understand. When it came time to enroll in school, a principal who’d been a submarine commander in World War II interviewed me for admission. He didn’t understand me either and said, “There will be social difficulties. The boy must go to the special language school in Charlottenburg-Nord.” It would have meant traveling across Berlin twice a day. That was the deciding factor for my mother: “Then the boy will go to the Waldorf school.”
The speech impediment disappeared after first grade. I didn’t talk much. It just happened that way due to my social environment. I was a bit of a late bloomer. It wasn’t until high school that I really woke up to my surroundings, started a student newspaper, and became very active as a youth worker in my free time, organizing conferences. When our school in Berlin-Dahlem came under pressure due to the financing of a new school building, we students felt collectively responsible. A group visited the politicians in the House of Representatives. I wasn’t part of that group, but I covered it as a journalist in the student newspaper and so collaborated in that way.
You started your career early. Journals, conferences, bringing people together, and taking on responsibility. Is that a hallmark of your life?
JW: That is a motif that has continued to go through a metamorphosis. That’s true.
When Justus Wittich and his wife were expecting their first child, they looked for a place to live where work and life could go hand in hand. In 1985, they moved to “Der Hof” [The Farm] in Niederursel near Frankfurt, an alternative education and living community. Their three children grew up there. Six grandchildren have since been added to the family. Justus Wittich began working at The Hof as an educational consultant, teaching courses on the Philosophy of Freedom. When the carpentry workshop at The Hof ran into financial difficulties, he joined their limited liability company. “We had to find a corporate structure that would support the project and enable it to move forward as a joint initiative.” He soon became managing director of the entire Hof, which included workshops, conference rooms, a youth seminar, a kindergarten, and a natural food store. He also became interim managing director of a Waldorf school newly founded on The Hof, which has grown into today’s Waldorf School Oberursel [Freie Waldorfschule Oberursel].
In 1988, Frank Teichmann asked him if he’d like to take over the quarterly journal Mitteilungen aus der anthroposophischen Arbeit [Communications from anthroposophical work] published by the German National Society. As editor of this journal, he was initially a guest member of the working collegium of the Executive Board of the National Society, soon becoming a full member. “I consciously joined the Executive Board without taking on the financial responsibility, instead focusing on public relations. But then I participated in a small management committee and in 2004 became treasurer, as I am here now at the Goetheanum. I have responsibility for the finances, and that means I’m involved in everything because finances have to do with everything. That’s why I can get involved in everything.”
Financing issues were also the reason why he founded the Mercurial Publishing Company at The Hof in Niederursel in 2001. Under his editorship, the journal Die Drei could continue to exist, and he also published the Mitteilungen aus der anthroposophischen Arbeit [Communications from anthroposophical work] there. Independent of this, in the 1980s and ‘90s, he was co-editor of the journal info3 in Niederursel, “… out of a friendship with Ramon Brüll.”
Mercurial, is that a keyword for you?
JW: I have a bit of a sanguine element, and I do have something mercurial.
I don’t mean the sanguine type. With the mercurial type, I imagine a delta, where water flows vibrantly everywhere, permeating everything; an entering into, a connecting, while remaining free and mobile, without clinging to one’s own particular content, not situating oneself in one’s own importance. In Greek, Mercury is the god Hermes, the messenger of the gods, and patron saint of merchants—but also of thieves. He stands for exchange, change, conveying messages, mediating between the spiritual and the earthly, and creating processes for this.
JW: That’s it precisely. It was always the case that I had a wide range of interests. I was always interested in the world around me. I had this strange feeling of responsibility for things at a very early age, even though I didn’t actually have any responsibility. Even back then, as a student, I felt responsible for the school, even though I was only in 12th grade.
How does responsibility arise for you?
JW: It comes from an interest in what’s approaching around me and the feeling that it has something to do with me—and vice versa.
You seem to enter into structures or create them yourself, and within these structures, you find yourself in positions such as editor, publisher, managing director, press spokesperson, presenter, or treasurer. As a rule, it’s not that you want to push your own agenda, but rather that you enable others to pursue theirs. That seems like a responsibility to you. Are you an enabler?
JW: Yes, that’s it! I wasn’t pursuing any personal goal at The Hof, nor at the newspapers. No, I don’t have my own strategic goal or want to achieve anything specific for myself. Instead, I ask myself: “What does the situation require? What is the right course of action in this situation?” One just has to sense this.
With the journals, you were an editor, not an author.
JW: Yes, not a writer, but an editor in the sense of “editing and enabling.” I learned a lot while editing.
Enabling the work of others to come to fruition and become accessible to others.
JW: Exactly.
When Justus Wittich took up the Mitteilungen [Communications] in 1989 and sent it to all members for a year in exchange for a voluntary contribution, he transferred all the membership addresses of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany to a computer system. At that time, there were 22,000 members in Germany; worldwide, there were 50,000. Today, there are only 11,000 members in Germany. In Germany, the average age of members is 70. Worldwide, membership has fallen to 41,000. Currently, it’s rising gradually again with new members, especially in non-German-speaking countries.
In March 2012, Justus Wittich was elected to the Executive Board at the Goetheanum. This time, fate was clear, and he took on the role of treasurer immediately. In the years prior to that—during a crisis at the Goetheanum that Justus helped to resolve by chairing the decisive Annual General Meeting—the Executive Board and the Section leaders at the Goetheanum, with the help of organizational developer Friedrich Glasl, founded a new form of leadership for the Goetheanum.
JW: The Goetheanum Leadership is a committee of the Executive Board and the leaders of the sections of the School of Spiritual Science. They collaborate in such a way that they make joint decisions on personnel matters, not on substantive issues. They meet every week for consultation. The Section leaders bring their questions about the School, and the Executive Board brings its initiatives. It’s clearly defined who is responsible for what. It’s not the case that the Goetheanum Leadership determines spiritual primacy, but instead, it offers advice. Individuals must decide for themselves in their own areas. I have to decide whether and how I can manage the finances, and I bear the responsibility. This has proven successful so far. The question is: how do spiritual foundations and earthly necessities actually collaborate? One must not dominate the other. Spiritual primacy alone leads to dogmatic sectarianism. But earthly necessity alone, the primacy of finances, is also not possible.
Spiritual foundation, earthly organization; I’ve often seen that when proactive groups form an association and become institutionalized, the momentum is lost—and divisions arise.
JW: That is the question we must resolve in the future, both for humanity as a whole and biographically. There’s a spiritual intention, and then you have to connect that with reality. That’s life. This is repeated in every anthroposophical initiative. There’s an idea, and we want to grasp it. Spirit needs form. But form kills spirit. The spirit must be able to work. It must not be crushed by form. Power is one of the dangerous instruments in this process. Is there a form in which the spiritual foundation is in contact with reality, and yet the individuality of each person is preserved? Rudolf Steiner undertook various attempts at higher education early on. However, in this sense, the School of Spiritual Science is still a big question, because we’ve said, “We’re trying to do research on the threshold.” What are the processes and decisions that involve spiritual beings and enable us to deal with spiritual questions in such a way that the spirit can really find its way into reality?
Life is the etheric. Research at the threshold also has to do with the etheric, because a research-based approach to the etheric in humans crosses a threshold where all knowledge, judgment, and further knowledge disappear into an intense nothingness. The threshold is part of the methodological approach.
JW: Yes, that’s interesting. When you observe the reality of social interaction at the School of Spiritual Science, it sometimes happens (and for me this has to do with the etheric) that a question hangs in the air, and you can’t get anywhere. When the leaders of these twelve Sections are together, a viewpoint suddenly emerges from out of the field of medicine, for example, and then a viewpoint from another field. This creates an openness into which an intuition can come that is evident to everyone in the room. You can observe the process of warmth. It gets intense. There can also be crackles and sparks.
This is the situation where “we don’t know what to do next.” Being able to remain present in this moment is a skill that can be acquired through the warmth ether. Then being able to take in what appears without immediately imposing your own views is a process that requires you to let go and be perceptive towards the other person. This is the power of the light ether at work. I think this is a level of reality that humanity as a whole is moving toward as the next stage of consciousness: awareness of the ethereal.
JW: Exactly. The question then is: do you consciously remain an observer? What is difficult is to describe this working method precisely.
Part of the methodology is to not avoid the moments when you don’t know what to do next. Don’t avoid the nothingness when you can hardly bear the fact that no one is telling you what to do. The self-discipline required for this opens up access for spiritual beings and forms substance.
JW: That has been our experience, too. The content-rich topics are the materials that make this easier to achieve. Half of the time, we in the Goetheanum Leadership deal with topics full of deep content; other times, we address more everyday questions of life. They require the same process, but everything’s inverted.
Avoid wanting to avoid problems.
JW: That’s a question of conflict management skills.
Conflict not as a mistake, but as a call for the ‘I’ to be present. Then you meet human beings.
JW: When it comes to making decisions, the process can also fail.
What role does economics play in this overall picture?
JW: Basically, it’s a question of relationships and trust. Can I build enough relationships between the members to make it an economic process? At the Goetheanum, we ultimately live from hand to mouth. Money is always in short supply. And I think that’s healthy to a certain extent. Not everyone agrees. Because, of course, there’s always uncertainty involved. With the shares in Weleda and the forty properties owned in Dornach, we have a background asset that cannot and should not be liquidated. In the case of Weleda, we don’t want that at all. From a purely economic viewpoint, I’d have to cut expenses by ten percent. That would mean employing sixteen fewer people and cutting jobs. But I always operate ten percent above what might be considered reasonable, what’s predictable, and I don’t know if it will come from the future. Of course, you can’t make that a method, because it always depends on whether it’s real, whether there is a genuine intention behind it. Then help also comes from other sources. But you can’t organize that.
That’s basically the artistic principle. You put your foot where there’s no ground yet, and the ground arises to meet you. This is also how the birth of Apollo is described. The goddess Hera had forbidden the Earth goddess Gaia to grant Leto, pregnant by Zeus, even a single patch of Earth for her delivery. But the sea god Poseidon raised the island of Delos from the sea, where Apollo could be born. A certain existential unpredictability can demand development.
JW: But that’s quite dangerous. If you don’t have a proper self-assessment of the present intentions, then it backfires and has immediate consequences.
It does remain in a living context, though.
JW: It remains alive when you’re in connection with other people.
Götz Werner always said, “If the spiritual world is interested, then the money will follow.”
JW: There can be a significant time lag, though. The current pictures that exist in people’s minds remain in place for a long time before new impressions can take hold. The money doesn’t come immediately. And it often comes from a different source than one expects. Sometimes you develop an activity in an area that has nothing to do with money, and then the money comes from somewhere else. Around two hundred people depend on this for their livelihood at the Goetheanum. I can’t play around with that.
It’s easier to do that when you’re on your own. But it takes real force to stick with this approach, which is fundamentally the right one, in a larger context. Of course, the desire is to have a lot of money, enabling you to afford a lot.
JW: Yes, that’s a major risk. The most difficult thing for me would be if forty million in inheritance suddenly came to the Goetheanum. Would there be enough energy to handle it properly and create something out of it? Or would it just lead to a dispute over how to distribute it? I think being slightly underfunded is the right starting point.
Because being slightly underfunded keeps you open-minded and alive?
JW: Not only me! Everyone involved at the Goetheanum is aware of this.
If there were suddenly forty million, would that be dangerous because you could fall into something?
JW: Into lethargy! You wouldn’t have to take any risks or make any effort. But there are also in-between forms. For example, we now have a friend who’s providing financial support for the Parsifal performance at the Goetheanum for a limited period of time. Here we have a different risk, namely whether it will be artistically successful to combine eurythmy with the music of a Wagner opera on a world-class level. I think it has succeeded because three things came together: a vision, an ability, and the fruitful collaboration of those involved. It always depends on whether there is that first probing step, which is necessary.
That means never having complete security and never having a system. What you’ve just said is an understanding of economics that I find very anthroposophical. Could you also say more about economics in the Anthroposophical Society?
JW: Sure. What do we mean by economy? The Anthroposophical Society’s own economy consists of membership fees. Our independence stems from the fact that the members finance it as a community. Their contributions make up a quarter of the budget of around CHF 16 million. If you add donations and other funds from friends, it amounts to more than a third. We earn another third ourselves. And we have to raise about another third through third-party funding. Perhaps economy also means how the economic field relates to the Society. At a world conference at the Goetheanum in 2016, there was a group of entrepreneurs and others who work economically with anthroposophical impulses, where the following picture emerged: Today, we have perhaps 40,000 institutions worldwide, if you count all the farms, doctors’ offices, law firms, educational institutions, and so on, and a good 40,000 members. We want to establish a connection with the institutions. That does not mean that the businesses and institutions should suddenly raise money for the Goetheanum. That’s not possible. Instead, we should enter into dialogue and build relationships on an equal footing. The World Goetheanum Association was founded with the following image in mind: We have the small Goetheanum here physically on site, and we have a large Goetheanum made up of all the people who are somehow practically and economically active on the basis of the spiritual impulse of anthroposophy. They form the large Goetheanum. How can this form of consciousness be accessed? It’s not actually a movement of expansion, but rather a continuous impulse of will that began with Rudolf Steiner and continues wherever people meet their destiny, where they see a task in the world in their social relationships and encounters, and where they tackle this task and apply anthroposophy.
My first thought would be to say: You have a profitable business, so give some money to the Goetheanum. But that’s not it. So, what is it then?
JW: First, there’s the recognition and interest that people have in, for example, producing cleaning products, running a bank, or establishing an institution based on a spiritual impulse. Thus far, they’ve had little dialogue with the Goetheanum in terms of their spiritual attitude and intention. There is still a lot of potential there!
The connection to the Goetheanum is a connection of consciousness. The primary intention is not money. And the secondary?
JW: We had to break that habit. When the first Goetheanum burned down, Rudolf Steiner said, “We’ll meet tomorrow at the Goetheanum.” Etherically, the Goetheanum was still there. It had just burned down. So, this great Goetheanum is still present. We are simply not sufficiently conscious of it. Where it will subsequently find economic expression may be in a completely different place. Ultimately, the individual human being is the connecting link. The question is: “How does each individual choose to associate themselves with the Goetheanum?”
One could say that you’ve dedicated your life to the Anthroposophical Society. But what about anthroposophy itself? How does that work for you—a life lived for anthroposophy?
JW: I wonder whether it isn’t the inverse, whether one doesn’t live from anthroposophy. For me, anthroposophy is not a structure of thought. In the Philosophy of Freedom, it says that a certain path is taken through the philosophy of freedom, which has been written down, and it now depends on whether you discover the field in your own soul where you can find answers to everything else concerning the questions of life. If you succeed in doing so, then I feel that you are on the path to identifying with anthroposophy. In this respect, for me, the path of training is also one that runs through life. When ideas arise, I always tend to think about them in practical terms, whether I can implement them. For me, this is the test of whether it is harmonious in life.
Is that a sign of your deeds, that they can come into earthly events?
JW: Yes. It’s about addressing problems that exist.
Would this also be needed more in anthroposophical journals? Addressing problems as problems and not immediately jumping to hopeful solutions? More critical journalism?
JW: That’s not easy. The focus must always be on the heart of the matter, not on party opinions, but on the question: “Where does the problem really lie?” That can be harsh sometimes. So, recognize the wound. This is not being critical but serves to draw attention to what the wound really is.
Where is there a wound in the Anthroposophical Society?
JW: The wound is that there has been, and perhaps still is, a long-standing tendency to view anthroposophy as a method for egoistic self-improvement rather than as a help for the world. And that a strong egoism can arise in relation to one’s own personality as a side effect of a spiritual path of training.
Personal development and helping the world; in my view, the events in the world since Covid are clearly an attack on humanity. We have had time for our own development. We should be able to see through the events to their intention. What do I do now in the face of this attack on human culture? Anthroposophical Society, Goetheanum, how do you relate these to current events?
JW: I’m surprised at the speed with which this is happening. The entire press and media are acting out Orwell’s 1984.
It’s really serious now. Now you can’t just sit there and say, “I’m going to prepare some more.” It’s now. What are you going to do?
JW: If the Rhine is becoming increasingly polluted and you start cleaning it at its mouth, it’s a waste of time. Instead, you have to tap into a new source. Try it. Otherwise, you’ll be wasting your force and time.
What might such a new source look like?
JW: For individuals, it means following their intentions as straightforwardly as possible and not allowing themselves to be distracted. For society? During the pandemic, we constantly weighed the options, trying to strike a balance between pursuing our own path and damaging the social sphere, including the Anthroposophical Society. Should we close the Goetheanum? Should events only be held with proof of testing? Where are the red lines? It was a constant struggle.
Where do you see the emergence of a new source in the work of the Executive Council and in the Anthroposophical Society?
JW: I find a description of a form of society in Rudolf Steiner’s work, in which coexistence essentially lives and awakens from the initiative of individuals. It makes no sense for the Executive Board to demand something from the members or for the members to demand something from the Executive Board. Rather, it’s about whether you are picturing a human connection and whether you are enabling the initiative of everyone in it—where you participate yourself but without demanding anything from others. How can I find a method or a statute that creates this? If I form an image of a global community, then it’s absurd to vote on the finances of the Goetheanum; instead, I must create a human connection and a shared consciousness.
You are now celebrating your 70th birthday. If you had one wish, what would you wish for?
What I wish for: that we succeed in describing and building a constitution, a togetherness for the present time, based on this conviction, with which and from which we can live in the Society for the next ten years.
Including the uncertain?
JW: And not forever.
Translation Joshua Kelberman
Title image Justus Wittich, Photo: Enno Schmidt
