Final Lecture for Midcoast Senior
College Introduction to Philosophy Course
Fall 2023
Concluding Thoughts on Distinguishing
and Characterizing Philosophy
Copyright © 2023
Bruce W. Hauptli
In his Experience
and Nature, John Dewey advances a conception of philosophy as
criticism which is important:
...philosophy
is inherently criticism, having its distinctive position among various modes
of criticism in its generality; a criticism of criticisms….Criticism is
discriminating judgment, careful appraisal, and judgment is appropriately termed
criticism wherever the subject-matter of discrimination concerns goods or
values. Possession and enjoyment of
goods passes insensibly and inevitably into appraisal.
First and immature experience is content simply to enjoy.
But a brief course in experience enforces reflection; it requires but
brief time to teach that somethings sweet in the having are bitter in
after-taste and in what they lead to.
Primitive innocence does not last.
Enjoyment ceases to be a datum and becomes a problem.
As a problem, it implies intelligent inquiry into the conditions and
consequences of a value-object; that is, criticism.
If values were as plentiful as huckleberries, and if the
huckleberry-patch were always at hand, the passage of appreciation into
criticism would be a senseless procedure.
If one thing tired or bored us, we should have only to turn to another.
But values are as unstable as the forms of clouds.
The things that possess them are exposed to all the contingencies of
existence, and they are indifferent to our likings and tastes.[1]
...of
immediate values as such, values
which occur and which are possessed and enjoyed, there is no theory at all; they
just occur, are enjoyed, possessed; that is all.
The moment we begin to discourse about these values, to define and
generalize, to make distinctions in kinds, we are passing beyond value-objects
themselves; we are entering, even if only blindly, upon an inquiry into causal
antecedents and causative consequents, with a view to appraising the “real,”
that is the eventual, goodness of the thing in question.
We are criticizing, not for its own sake, but for the sake of
instituting and perpetuating more
enduring and extensive values.[2]
If a man believes in ghosts,
devils, miracles, fortune-tellers, the immutable certainty of the existing
economic regime, and the supreme merits of his political party and its leaders,
he does so believe; these are immediate goods to him, precisely as some color
and tone combinations are lovely, or the mistress of his heart is charming.
When
the question is raised as to the “real” value of the object for belief, the
appeal is to criticism, intelligence.
And the court of appeal decides by the law of conditions and
consequences. Inquiry duly pursued
leads to the enstatement of an object which is directly accepted, good in
belief, but an object whose character now depends upon the reflective operations
whose conclusion it is. Like
the object of dogmatic and uncritical belief, it marks an “end,” a static
arrest; but unlike it, the “end” is a
conclusion; hence it carries credentials.[3]
It is easier to wean a miser from
his hoard, than a man from his deeper opinions.
And the tragedy is that in so many cases the
causes which lead to the thing in
question being a value are not reasons
for its being a good, while the fact that it is an immediate good tends to
preclude that search for causes, that
dispassionate judgment, which is pre-requisite to the conversion of goods
de facto into goods
de jure.
Here, again and preeminently, since reflection is the instrumentality of
securing freer and more enduring goods, reflection is a unique and intrinsic
good.[4]
Here it is
the connection between “criticism” and values that I want to draw attention to.
For Dewey values arise in experience and can be immediately/primitively
experienced, and they can then be critically assessed and become more enduring
and extensive values. In both cases
we have fact—something is valued and the conditions leading to such experiences
are critically considered to allow for more of these valued experiences.
When these valuations are themselves critically examined and assessed, we
come to have finally, however, critical reflection can assess the valuations
“goods de jure”—that is, values
reflectively credentialed. When
prehistoric persons first tasted meet which fell in their fire, it tasted good
(a primitive good, sorry for the pun).
When they reflectively and critically perfected cooking such immediate
goods became stable goods. Finally,
when the value of cooked food was reflectively and critically assessed we came
to the level of a “reflectively credentialed good.”
Dewey would certainly point out, however, that critical reflection would
surely show that there are good foods which should not be cooked.
I want to tie this discussion to our discussion of the nature of the
philosophical activity, so let me ease into another point.
I believe
that neither science nor philosophy arrives at answers that are
final. Instead, each finds
uncertain but acceptable
stopping-points in a critical and
tentative rational agreement amongst the participants.
While, ideally, the answers will be completely convincing to all, this
ideal is rarely attained.
Nonetheless there are factors which mitigate against continuance of the critical
process: the costs (economic, temporal, and or social) of further inquiry may be
unsupportable, there may be a pressing need for action which constrains further
inquiry, participant may be exhausted, etc.
In such circumstances if a decision needs to be made critical inquiry may
need to tentatively end and the politics of decision-making will have to take
over. I won’t pursue this further
except to say that here I am a fan of Dewey’s view that such decisions are best
made within a process which is deeply democratic.
Moreover, as
the quotation from Rorty at the end of Section 4 of my "What
Is Philosophy?" supplement indicates, philosophic
inquiry differs from scientific inquiry in that in the case of science rational
agreement is often facilitated as the inquirers often concur regarding what the
“criteria of success” are which acceptable answers must measure up to.
In philosophical inquiry however, Rorty notes “…intersubjective agreement
is harder to get when the criteria of success begin to proliferate, and even
harder when those criteria themselves are up for grabs [as they are, he
suggests, in philosophy].”[5]
The differences over the criteria can be intense, especially when they
arise in the areas of ethical and social-political thought, and I’ll reiterate
my comment about Deweyan democracy here.
But I want to veer in another direction as it is of central importance
both to this point and to our understanding of how to characterize the
philosophical endeavor.
One of the factors mitigating
against agreements on criteria in philosophy is the prevalence of
paradox in the problematic
situations leading to such inquiry.
In
his Working Without A Net: A Study of
Egocentric Epistemology, Richard Foley maintains that:
…it can be rational for you to believe
each and every proposition that you defend in your book even though it is also
rational for you to declare in the preface that at least one of the propositions
is false….
Situations of this sort are not
even uncommon. Most of us have very
strong but not altogether certain evidence for a huge variety of propositions,
evidence that makes these propositions rational for us.
And yet we also have strong evidence for our fallibility about such
matters, evidence that can make it rational for us to beliefs of a set of such
propositions that at least one is false.
If it were always and everywhere irrational to be knowingly inconsistent,
this would be impossible. It would
be impossible for us knowingly and rationally to have these kinds of fallibilist
beliefs. But it isn’t impossible,
and any theory that implies otherwise should be rejected for this reason.[6]
We find our critical processes both stretched and unperturbed sometimes by such
paradoxes, and rather than try and resolve them we often proceed with the
particular inquiries rather than confront the paradox head on.
This, of course what fallibilistically-minded scientists would do!
A second factor mitigating against
agreements on criteria in philosophy is best introduced and discussed with an
insight from the Twentieth-Century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein.
In his Blue and Brown Books he
points to the philosophic danger of asking for and seeking explicit, simple,
fully general characterizations of seemingly simple concepts.
Consider the question: “What is a game.”
Surely, one says, if we can concisely say what a triangle is, we can do
the same with games! Well….
Wittgenstein thinks that there is
a deep philosophical malaise which arises as one asks seemingly innocent
questions as “What is knowledge?” “What
is right?” “What is just?”
or “What is Philosophy?”
Instead of expecting, as Plato teaches us, that there should be a simple
essence which can be identified
through a dialectical process, Wittgenstein suggests we accept that there may,
instead, be a family resemblance
between games, distinct types of knowledge (deductive, perceptual, arising from
testimony, etc.).
To motivate this he asks his reader to consider what happens if
from 4 till 4:30 A expects B to come to his room for tea?
“If one asks what the different processes of expecting someone to tea
have in common, the answer is that there
is no single feature in common to all of them, though there are many common
features overlapping. These
cases of expectation form a family; they have family likenesses which are not
clearly defined.”[7]
From this and other exercises he draws attention to the fact that:
...in general we
don’t use language according to strict rules—it hasn’t been taught us by means
of strict rules, either.
We, in our discussions on the other
hand, constantly compare language with a calculus proceeding according to exact
rules.
This is a very one-sided way of
looking at language....We are unable clearly to circumscribe the concepts we
use; not because we don’t know their real definition, but
because there is no real ‘definition’
to them. To suppose that there
must be would be like supposing that
whenever children play with a ball they play a game according to strict rules.”[8]
Now I want to build on his point here at we continue to address the
question: “What is philosophy?”
Plato would want a clear-cut, concise, species-genus definition, and his
influence upon subsequent philosophizing makes this a pervasive expectation.
Wittgenstein’s response is to say this is not how we learn our concepts
and it is mistaken to expect that the search for such essences will be
successful. Suppose he is right,
what are we to say, then, as we look at our introductory experience?
Plato’s early dialogues expose us to the general character of the process
he attaches so much importance to.
Like Socrates, he devotes his life to pursuing and promoting the activity of
philosophical inquiry believing it provides a path to knowledge, virtue, and the
worthwhile life. The Wittgenstenian
side of me points out there surely are
many sorts of worthwhile lives, and no reason to believe there should be one
model for all persons, and, perhaps, no reason to believe that any individual
should lead a life devoted to any single “good.”
As human beings intersubjectively reflect upon their values (primitive,
reflective, and reflectively credentialed) while recognizing that there may be
multiple reflectively credentialed goods each of which (individually or in
combinations) may sustain lives well worth living, we may come to better
understand the contributions philosophy may offer.
[1] John
Dewey,
Experience and Nature (New York: Dover,
1958), pp. 398-399.
Emphasis [bold] added to the passage.
[2]
Ibid.,
p. 403.
Emphasis [bold] added to the passage.
[3]
Ibid.,
p. 405. Emphasis [bold] added to the passage.
[4]
Ibid.,
p. 406.
[5] Richard
Rorty, “Thomas Kuhn, Rocks and the Laws of
Physics” [1997],
op. cit.,
p. 180.
[6] Richard
Foley,
Working Without A Net: A Study of Egocentric
Epistemology (N.Y.: Oxford U.P., 1993), p.
165.
Emphasis added to the passage.
[7] Ludwig
Wittgenstein,
The Blue
Book, in
The Blue
and Brown Books (N.Y.: Harper and Row, 1958
[posthumously]), p. 20.
The book
was dictated by Wittgenstein to his class at
Cambridge in 1933-1943.
[8]
Ibid.,
p. 25.
Email: hauptli@fiu.edu
Last revised: 10/24/23