Radical pragmatism: an alternative

RADICAL PRAGMATISM An Alternative by ROBERTJ. ROTH, S.J. Fordham University Press New York 1998 CONTENTS Copyright ...

Author: Robert J. Roth

132 downloads 1074 Views 8MB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

RADICAL PRAGMATISM An Alternative by

ROBERTJ. ROTH, S.J.

Fordham University Press New York 1998

CONTENTS Copyright O 1998 by Fordharn University Press All rights reserved. LC 98-37297 ISBN 0-8232-1851-1 (hardcooer) ISBN 0-8232-1852-X (paperback) Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Roth, Robert J. Radical pragmatism : an alternative / by Robert J. Roth. p cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8232-1851-1 (alk. paper). - ISBN 0-8232-1852-X (pbk. : alk. paper) 1.Pragmatism. 2. Philosophy and religion. 3. Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. I. Title. B944.P72R68 1998 144l.3-DC21 98-37297 CIP

of America

Acknowledgments

vii

A bbrmiations

ix

Introduction

xi

Pragmatism: General Traits

1

The Origin of Hypotheses

12

Pragmatic Moral Theory

36

Transcendence

61

Immanence

- 94

Transcendence and Immanence: An Alternative

107

Concluding Remarks

147

Bibhop-aphy

159

Index

165

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I am grateful to the editors of the followingjournals for permission to use in part articles which they have published: In the Introduction: "The Importance of Matter," America, 109 (1963), 792-94. In Chapter 2: "Anderson on Peirce's Concept of Abduction: Further Reflections," Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Son'ely, 24 (l988), 131-39. In Chapters 2 and 4, "Radical Pragmatism and a Theory of Person," International Philosophical Quarter& 36 (1996), 335-49. In Chapter 3: "Naturalistic Ethics: Problem of Method," The New Scholasticism, 40 (1966), 285-311, and "Moral Obligation and God," The N m Scholasticism, 54 (1980), 265-78. I wish to address a special word of gratitude to my colleague at Fordham University, Rev. W. Norris Clarke, S.J., who read the whole manuscript and added some judicious suggestions as well as strong encouragement. Dr. Mary Beatrice Schulte, Executive Editor of Fordham University Press, once again deserves my appreciation for her enthusiasm, patience, and wise counsel in bringing this volume into print.

ABBREVIATIONS For complete information regarding these abbreviations, see the Bibliogaphy. Charles Sanders Peirce CP

.

Collected P a w of Charles Sanders Peirce, 8 vols.

William James

ERE Essays i n Radical Empiricism MT The Meaning of Truth P Pragmatism PP The Principles of Psycholagy PU A Pluralistic Universe The Varieties of Religicuus Experience RE WB The Will to Believe and 0 t hEssays in Popular Philosophy John Dewey MW LW

The Middle Wmk of John Dewey, 1899-1 924 The Later Woks of John Dewey, 1925-1 953

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin DM PM

The Divine Milieu The Phenomenon of Man

INTRODUCTION Some fifty years ago, as a young graduate student, I first became interested in American pragmatism. At that time there was very little sympathy for it among Roman Catholics. As I recall, the first book by a Catholic that was sympathetic to pragmatism was the edited volume by John Blewett published in 1960 and entitled John Dewey: His Thought and Injluence.' This inspired me a year later to publish my own study of Dewey, which, though critical, attempted to bring forward the valuable insights of the pragmatic traditi~n.~ This did not sit well with some of my coreligionistswho still viewed American philosophy in general and pragmatism in particular as a threat to faith and morals. This attitudepersisted for many years, not only among Roman Catholics but among people of other religious and philosophical persuasions as well. And though in recent decades the hard lines of opposition have considerably softened, there is still a reluctance on the part of some to give pragmatism serious consideration and to render it the a p preciation that it merits. The present volume is the attempt of one person to describe the journey by which he came from a tradition quite different from--even alien to-pragmatism, began to understand and appreciate its insights, and sought to graft it upon his own philosophic outlook, at the same time seeing difficulties with some aspects of the pragmatic position, To do this, I shall focus on my own acquaintapce with pragmatism. At first glance, this perspective may seematogive a highly subjective cast to my approach. That certainly would be a considerable drawback, for it would inhibit the degree of objectivity with which one must approach any subject, philosophy included. And yet, when one takes up an

*

John Blewett, s.J., John Dewey: His Thought and Injluence (New York: Fordham University Press, 1960). *RobertJ. Roth, s.J., John Deuey and SeZfReaalization (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1961; repr. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1978).

Xii

xiii

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

individual philosopher or a philosophical tradition, it is impossible to be completely objective. Each one of us approaches a great philosopher from a different perspective, and the strength of a serious commentary is that new insights may be opened up which enable others to reread the works of the philosopher from a fresh viewpoint. As we know, this very endeavor gives rise to disagreements, often radical and sometimes heated, among the commentators. In the process I occasionally imagine that, as we struggle to understand the works of the original giants-be they Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Descartes, Kant, Heidegger, Lonergan, or whoever-they look down on those of us who are lesser mortals, shake their heads vehemently, and say about our interpretations: "No, no; you've got it all wrong!" Nonetheless, through it all there somehow emerges an increased knowledge both of the original philosophers discussed and of ways of drawing closer to a solution to the problems which they raised. But there is a further purpose that is intended by yet another book on pragmatism. In the past I have, in the main, given a sympathetic rendering of American pragmatism. There were elements in the pragmatists that excited my philosophic interest in that they raised questions that were challenging and could not easily be dismissed or ignored. At the same time, I had questions that, in my own view, the pragmatists had not adequately answered. Heretofore I have been content merely to bring forward these questions, though all the while I have felt the need of attempting to answer them. The present volume, therefore, is the occasion for me to make that attempt. My introduction to American pragmatism came after studies that were heavily cast in the Greek and medieval tradition, with the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas as the main focus. In graduate work at Fordham University, I had the good fortune of taking courses with the late Professor Robert C. Pollock, whose specialty was medieval and American philosophy and who inspired a whole generation of graduate students. He insisted that medieval philosophy was not synonymous with Aquinas, though he had a great respect for the renowned Dominican scholar. Under his tutelage, Augustine, Anselm, and Bonaventure became familiar and living philosophers, representing a rich heritage. Professor Pollock also introduced us to American pragmatism, whose representatives

were known to me only as opponents of the Scholastic philosophical tradition. As a result, it was the entrance into the Augustinian medieval world and the world of pragmatism that opened up new horizons. Though I continued to be strongly influenced by classical Greek and medieval philosophy, it is with the world of pragmatism that I am here concerned. There were elements of pragmatism that first attracted me, even before I was able to sort out in more ordered form the more technical philosophical issues of that tradition. From an admittedly narrow theological and religious background, not unlike Dewey's early personal experience as related late in life, I found an "immense release" in an appreciation of the material universe which was characteristic of the pragmatists. For them, this did not mean sense gratification but growth on the highest levels. Their conviction grew that human development depends very much on active involvement in the world of matter, uf people, of events, of cultural and scientific progress. Yet it was not merely human growth that was involved, but religious growth as well. Critics of American materialism, of course, would see the development of American pragmatism as a movement from a deeply religious to a thoroughgoing naturalistic spirit. And yet, the latter is not primarily a negation of religion. It is, rather, an affirmation of matter, along with a conviction that, in affirming it, one cannot at the same time say yes to religion. Attention to certain aspects of our history may serve to suggest some reasons for this. The origins of America had strong roots in Protestant theology. Thought it is easy to exaggerate, one must admit that there were strong religious convictions animating the first Pilgrims who came to America. They were imbued with a biblical sense of the sacredness of history and with a belief in divine intervention in human events. Yet, though the City of God was their absorbing interest, they could not long ignore the City of Man. They had to commit themselves to the world of matter as they struggled to build homes and pro&de for the necessities of life. As America grew, a tension also grew between the human orientation to God and a commitment to the world. New England Transcendentalism prior to the Civil War has been characterized as a reaction against a rising naturalistic outlook, and especially against what was felt by many to be a growing absorption in material concerns-a by-

I

xiv

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

product of the industrial and economic growth of the early nineteenth century. Witness the flight from the world of a Henry David Thoreau at Walden Pond and of the small Utopian bands at Brook Farm and Fruitlands. These aspects of Transcendentalism would seem to characterize it as the alienation of humans from the world. But the movement cannot be understood unless it is also seen as a reaction against Calvinist-influenced theologies, with their separation between God, nature, and the human, and as an affirmation that the contact of person with God and nature formed a single experience. A dominant figure in this movement was Emerson, who, in opposition to a crass materialistic view of the universe, proclaimed that religious, ethical, and esthetic experience could be found only by healing the breach between the human spirit and nature. Within this movement, too, one finds a dissatisfaction with existing (i.e., Unitarian) theological formulations, a shedding of theological categories, a tendency to stand off and criticize religious rite and doctrine, and an attempt to explain divine revelation in natural terms. This tendency is found, in one degree or another, in such figures as Emerson and Thoreau. Perhaps here, more than anywhere else, was focused the rising tension between theology and matter. It is especially in pragmatism, America's "first indigenous philosophy," and in naturalism, sometimes incorrectly called its logical outcome, that we witness both the decline of the traditional religious sense and the thoroughgoing acceptance of matter. Those engaged in these movements resolved the tension between religion and the world of matter by gradually eliminating traditional religion (though not all of them rejected God), since in their view it no longer made the world intelligible. On the other hand, it is now clear that American philosophic thought in this period was primarily a conscious expression of what the American spirit had always exemplified: namely, a conviction that matter is essential for human selfdevelopment. Pragmatists have nurtured what John Dewey called a "respect for matter," because they were sure that it was only by dealing with it that humans could release their potential, fulfill their drive for achievement, and further the progress of humanity on its highest level. From this point of view, nothing that humans encounter in the environment is unimportant for human growth. Matter and energy, social, political, and

XV

economic institutions, science and technology-all must engage our attention and interest so as to help us achieve maximum development. To the pragmatist and naturalist, flight from active engagement in the world is a betrayal of one's fundamental responsibility. At the time that this aspect of pragmatism was making its impact upon my philosophic thinking, the English translation of the works of the French Jesuit priest and anthropologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin burst upon the American scene.3Several aspects of his thought called forth a response in the hearts of people in America and throughout the world. Perhaps the most significant was his confidence in the value of human involvement with matter. His position was that of an evolutionist who accepts the origin and development of living things from inorganic elements. Now that evolution has reached its culmination in humans, he held, future progress will be made principally in the direction of the growth of individuals as persons. Such growth will depend on continued interaction with the world, which includes the physical universe, social institutions, cultural development, and, very important in our age, science. It is by active engagement in all these that humans will be able to achieve fulfillment on the natural level. This message gave hope and encouragement to those who had begun to feel overwhelmed by the imperious demands that worldly concerns made upon their time and energy. People suddd/nly became aware that interest in this world could have meaning for their enrichment as humans. Matter, then, became important--one might even say, sacred. But there was a deeper dimension to the message that Teilhard was bringing to America and to the world. He was saying that involvement in this world's concerns was essential for development, not only on the human level, but on the religious level as well. This made an enormous impression on those who had a commitment to some religious belief. Many religionists felt that Teilhard was stating explicitly ?

The first English translation of Teilhard's works was The Phenomenan of Man, trans. Bernard Wall (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1959). A revised translation was published in 1965. The original French edition was L,e p h & humaine (Paris: Editions dyseuil, 1955). It caused an enormous amount of discussion, both positive and negative. By 1985, Teilhard's complete religious-philosophical works were published in thirteen volumes.

xvii

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

what many had felt intuitively for a long time. His appeal consisted in the feeling that he had gone a long way toward providing answers in terms of their own religious experience. The above reflections should indicate the similarities between the thought of the pragmatists and that of a religious scientist. These similarities reinforced my own attraction to the pragmatists, because I felt that they had raised the right questions, even though I had difficulty with some of their answers. But the comparison was impressive. While conducting a graduate seminar on American Pragmatism, I once made the remark that someone ought to write a dissertation on the similarity between John Dewey and Teilhard. One student took up the suggestion and wrote a dissertation on the subject which was later published as a book.4 So far, emphasis has been given to the impact that pragmatism made on my religious thinking. This is natural, given the religious commitment and education that were mine. But other aspects, too, were striking. One has already been mentioned, namely, the need of involvement in the affairs of this world for the enrichment of the individual as a person. Important also was the attack that pragmatism made against classical empiricism and idealism. Regarding the former, pragmatism rejected the atomistic rendition of experience characteristic of classical empiricism as seen principally in Locke and Hume. Like the spokes of a wheel, the new approach to experience radiated out to a revision of the philosophy of knowledge, the person, community, and of moral, social, and political theory. It also was at the center of pragmatism's critique of classical idealism, for emphasis was given to the fact that experience need not, must not, in all cases conform to some preconceived notion of reality; that conceptual formulations should be brought back continually to concrete situations to see if they need to be changed or even rejected in the light of further experience. Finally, pragmatism's epistemology seemed in many respects eminently persuasive not only in itself, but in its conformity with scientific methodology as well. This personal account of one individual's philosophical journey is an attempt to indicate the aspects of pragmatism which

were found to be attractive and worthy of further study. But there were difficulties as well. The first had to do with the meaning of scientific method, which has been an important component of pragmatism. How is this method to be understood? Certainly it includes observation, hypothesis, and test. The later pragmatists focused primarily on the test of consequences to validate a proposed solution to a problem. Of the three classical pragmatistsCharles Sanders Peirce, William James, and John Dewey-the lastmentioned stressed this the most, and it has become a key element in the pragmatic method. But prior to that is the develop ment of hypotheses as solutions to new problems. How precisely ,do they arise, such that they do not slip into some form of intuition which has been severely criticized and rejected? And what effect does one's position on this question have on the theory of the person? Moreover, can the pragmatic method develop a viable moral theory? This involves proposing goals and ideals which are the guides of human thought and action, and the criteria for good and right conduct. The above questions have been cited in almost random fashion and reflect the type of questions that occurred to me in the course of my study of pragmatism. In the following chapters I shall try to put them down in a more orde:ed manner and address them more pointedly. An attempt will be made to answer these questions within a position that is sympathetic to pragmatism. In the process, a move will be made to show how someone from a compretely different philosophical and theological tradition can draw upon the insights of pragmatism and incorporate them into that framework. The result will be a worldview enriched by the stimulus given by pragmatism to reexamine one's own stance. This procedure is not new to philosophy. The pragmatists themselves, notably Dewey, absorbed much of previous philosophy, even of Hegelianism, though a good deal was rejected. So, too, all of us who "do" philosophy find ourselves attracted to one or another philosopher or philosophical tradition. We may consider ourselves to be Platonists or Aristotelians, Augustinians or Thomists, empiricists or idealists, language analysts or logicians, or, to use current terms, foundationalistsor antifoundationalists. Sometimes\those who follow a given philosopher do so literally and slavishly, and from a mistaken loyalty they so harden

XVi

Joseph T. Culliton, c.s.B., A Processiue World VieufmPragmatic Christians (New York: Philosophical Library, 1975).

*

xviii

INTRODUCTION

thought as to s t u l q it and render it outmoded or irrelevant. At other times one may become familiar with a different set of philosophical ideas, try to understand them, and then assimilate them into one's original philosophic standpoint. In this case, it may be said that one is inspired by a new tradition so that a definite orientation permeates the original position which endures, though in modified form. It is in this context that my interest in pragmatism began and has brought me to the present project. I have called my reexamination of pragmatism "radical." The term, of course, is taken from William James's "radical empiricism." By it he indicated that classical empiricism had not been radical enough, had not gone deeply enough into an examination of experience, and, hence, had missed some of its important aspects. The elements that he brought to the surface became significant in his own development and extension of empiricism. So, too, I propose to begin within the pragmatic tradition and to highlight what I consider to be some of its main contributions to philosophy. But in Jamesian fashion I then try to show that the pragmatists themselves had not been radical enough in mining the full implications of their own tradition. The end product will be a pragmatism that, while not negating the valuable contributions that it has made to philosophical inquiry, should extend these contributions and make them available to those of other philosophical and religious backgrounds.

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

Pragmatism: General Traits IF ONE CLAIMS TO INITIATE a reconsideration of pragmatism, it seems to be incumbent upon that person first to indicate the areas that are thought to be in need of reconsideration. This has been done in a general way in the Introduction. But in order to begin focusing more narrowly on these areas, it would be helpful if at the outset I would express my own understanding of some of the general traits of pragmatism. I say "some of the traits" because my treatment will be selective. The principle of selection will be the aspects of pragmatism which I feel need to be reconsidered. And the discussion of them can be, at the outset, brief, since they are familiar enough and since they will be discussed more in detail in the following chapters. The attempt to delineate the characteristics of pragmatism is no small task. It met with difficulties right from the beginning, the most notable being Peirce's discarding of the term 'pragmatism' and the adoption of 'pragmaticism.' Familiar enough is Arthur Lovejoy's somewhat caustic enumeration in 1908 of no fewer than thirteen pragrnati~ms.~ Dewey himself claimed that in Logic: The Theory of Inquiry (1938) the term 'pragmatism' does not a p pear (LW 12:4).2 His reason was: "Perhaps the word lends itself to misconception. At all events, so much misunderstanding and relatively futile controversy have gathered about the word that it seemed advisable to avoid its use." He added, however, that the text is "thoroughly pragmatic," provided that pragmatic is p r o p erly interpreted as including "the function of consequences as necessary tests of the validity of propositions" and the conse-

' Arthur 0.Lovejoy, "The Thirteen Pragmatisms," TheJournal of Philosophy, 5 (1908), 5-15. According to Lovejoy, 1908 marked the tenth anniversary of the term "pragmatism," if not the doctrine. The article was reprinted in Lovejoy's The Thirteen Pragmatism and Other Essays (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1963), pp. 1-20. 2All references to Dewey's works are included in the text as MW (Middle Works) and LW (Later Works), with volume and page number.

2

'

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

PRAGMATISM: GENERAL TRAITS

quences themselves as operations bearing on a specific problem. A few pages later, he called logic "a naturalistic theory." He admitted that the term "naturalistic" has many meanings, but for him it indicated that "there is no breach of continuity between operations of inquiry and biological operations and physical operations" (LW 12:26). Nonetheless, Dewey never seemed completely satisfied that any one term adequately identified his position. In Individualism Old and N u , too, he had used the term "naturalism," but he admitted that it had all kinds of meanings. But, most important, it meant that human beings with all their aspirations are an integral part of nature and that the philosophical foundation and effort to realize these aspirations in nature are more effective than any kind of dualism (LW 5:114). For Dewey there were definite links among such terms as "pragmatism," "naturalism," "humanism," and "scientific humanism." His naturalism became a humanism when it considered human beings as a part of nature but as nonetheless unique. Thus in Democracy and Education, he could say that "man's life is bound up in the processes of nature; his career, for success or defeat, depends upon the way in which nature enters it" (MW 9:236). In Reconstruction in Philosophy, he insisted that the "pragmatic rule" of consequences and the method used in the sciences of nature should be applied to human moral reconstruction. If this is done, "the vexatious and wasteful conflict between naturalism and humanism is terminated" (MW 12:179). In view of these variations in terminology, it should not be surprising that recent commentators have struggled with the task of i d e n w n g precisely what pragmatism professes to be. S. Morris Eames adopted the term "pragmatic nat~ralism."~ He stated that some of its characteristics are as follows: It is an "American movement," though it had philosophical and scientific roots in the past. It designates the philosophy of Peirce, James, Mead, and Dewey. Other terms have been used, such as instrumentalism and experimentalism, but, he claims, these have led to ambiguous, not to say erroneous, meanings. It is a movement rather than a systematic philosophy. In a later chapter, Eames emphasized the methodology that looks to consequences as a test of hypotheses.

In the selection of the title of this volume and of this chapter, I have resisted using the term "pragmatic naturalism." It has as many differences, not to say ambiguities, as any other term. By pragmatism I mean the philosophy of Peirce, James, and Dewey, since they are included in any discussion of pragmatism and are in fact the central figures to be treated in this study. Moreover, I think it is possible to describe several aspects upon which the pragmatists themselves would be in broad agreement, even though they would differ as to how these aspects would be further developed. Any discussion of pragmatism would have to include, if not begin with, the meaning of experience. Those familiar with pragmatism will groan upon being told that the pragmatic notion of experience will be recounted again, for this has been done many .times. But it is important here for two reasons: (a) it is essential for anyone writing on the subject to reveal what he or she understands the pragmatists to mean by experience; and (b) it will provide the occasion to focus on the particular aspects that are to be discussed in the following chapters. Before proceeding, however, it would be helpful first to say something about the meaning of "empiricism" and its relation to experience. It would seem that the latter term is used more extensively than the former. For examplk, in ordinary discourse one can speak about the experience of touching a table or a rose, of feeling pleasure or pain, of eating a meal, of reading a book, of seeing a play, of relating to a deity. In its narrower and more original meaning, experience is derived from the Greek work empeiria, which, as used by Aristotle, meant sense perception and imagination. The term empiricism has, of course, gone through many variations in the history of philosophy. But its ordinary accepted meaning in classical modern philosophy begins with Locke and Hume and continues throughout the British empiricist tradition. In this sense, empiricism is a theory of experience consisting of simple sensations. It is atomistic, composed of discrete sense contents as the ultimate givens which are further combined into more complex ones. The pragmatists vehemently opposed this view of experience and stressed its unity, continuity, and wholeness. h a less classical sense, an empiricist position would maintain that experience is related to sensation in that it

". Morris Eames, F'ragmatic Naturalism: An htroduction (Carbondale: Southe m Illinois University Press, 1977).

"

,

3

4

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

begins with sense objects perceived by some form of sense perception. Normally, it would also hold that experience must be brought back to sense objects to be tested for its validity. In this respect, then, experience begins and ends with sense objects and with some form of sensation. To return to the pragmatic meaning of experience: a telling reason for its importance was the vehemence with which the pragmatists opposed separations on all levels: the Cartesian radical duality of soul and body, spirit and matter; the idealists' disdain for contact with reality for the derivation of principles or for their verification; the classical empiricists' emphasis on sense data or ideas in the mind apart from objects. In a theory of knowledge, the pragmatists rejected the "spectator theory," according to which the knower stood apart from the known, passively noting and recording what is found outside. Instead, the knower is already in contact with the known. Better still, and as a general indication of what they were about, experience was defined as an interaction between the self and reality. The known does not act on the knower, or vice versa; rather, they interact. The knowing process is an active engagement between the mind and reality. An object is said to be known when the individual is able to deal with it by anticipating what effects will arise from it. One understands what it means to be hard when one states that an object resists the touch, what a chair is when one uses it for sitting down, what a book is when one opens and reads it to advance in knowledge. Viewed in this fashion, experience is close to the meaning expressed "in ordinary discourse" as mentioned above-that is, it is indeed touching an object, eating a meal, reading a book, seeing a play. These precisely involve the interaction between a subject and an object, and the interaction itself is an experience. In terms of knowledge, belief consists in the expectation that anticipated effects will follow, and the belief is said to be true when the effects do in fact eventuate. Belief is also a habit of action since one becomes accustomed to certain ways of dealing with a given object; for example, one will duck if a stone is hurled in one's direction. For the pragmatist, a belief-that is, the assurance that objects will act in regular ways-is an hypothesis that is always subject to further test. One continues to hold the belief as


5

t i

if f

f

c

long as there is no good reason for doubting it. It is always possible, however, that such a reason will arise; then the belief must be brought back to the concrete situation in order to be tested in the light of changing circumstances. Depending on the outcome of the test, the belief may be confirmed, modified, or discarded for a new one. Though experience begins with singular instances, the mind forms hypotheses which are held to be true regarding all similar objects in similar situations. These hypotheses are formulated in symbolic representations such as conceptions. These are generals expressed in a proposition, such as, a diamond will scratch glass, or water will boil at 100 degrees centigrade. They are said to hold good for all similar objects and they can be brought back to concrete situations and tested. This is the great power of the human mind, that it can generalize by bringing together an entire class of objects under a singular formula, and that it can take the formula out of "cold storage,'ko use James's phrase, to be applied and tested. But experience is not only "reportive," that is, it does not merely reflect what is already in existence. It is also creative. When a new situation arises, the mind identifies the problem, projects imaginative solutions or hypotheses, and tests them. In the process, the knower acts upon the environment, changes it, and arrives at a satisfactory solution to the initial problem. This is the procedure by which science has advanced; it deals with objects under laboratory conditions and abides by established procedures. But it may happen that new phenomena are noticed that do not fit precisely under the laws already in place. The scientist then projects possible explanations that may account for the novel event. These are tested until a solution is reached. But the creative process is not confined to the scientific laboratory. Civilization, too, advances by facing new conditions, whether they be social, political, financial, cultural, educational. It may be found that old ways of thinking and acting no longer suffice, and so different methods are sought and tested. In all these cases, new beliefs and new "truths" are brought into existence; truth is not only found, it is also created. There takes place, then, a fruitful interchange betwqen the individual and the surrounding conditions; the environment is changed and in turn it influences and

6

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

changes the agent since it is a new set of circumstances. This mutual relationship constitutes a spiraling effect that goes on indefinitely. Pragmatism gave extended attention to epistemology. But it a p plied the notion of experience as interaction to other areas as well. It was most important in defining what it means to be a person. The human being is not "full blown" at birth, with its potentialities and capacities completely developed. This is attained by interaction with other beings, first of all with physical objects. Again this is seen in the sciences, where human ingenuity and inventiveness are brought to higher levels, though as noted above it happens in affairs of everyday life. But it is especially in communication with other human beings that an individual attains maturity as a person. It is more than just dealing with others in some routine or mechanical way. Persons reach the fullness of development as humans when they cooperate with others in attaining for all the deepest and richest enhancement possible. This is why interpersonal relationships in community were important for the pragmatists since they enable all individuals to attain their goal in mutual effort, even in self-sacrifice, for the good of all. Sometimes I hear people say that they have given up on God and religion because they demand too much. My response is that, if such is the case, they should not buy into pragmatism since it places demands on individuals to be outgoing and generous if they wish to be truly human persons. The delineation of what it means to be a person also describes morality. Those who engage in a life of community, who care for and labor for the welfare of all, are by that very fact good moral people. Morality consists in intelligent action and in the accep tance of responsibility for others. Concern, compassion, self-sacrifice-these are the virtues that characterize good moral persons. The opposite-indifference, callousness, selfishness-are signs of, moral bankruptcy because they place individuals outside the pale of community. The pragmatists' notion of experience also affects their outlook on God and religion. Since experience is at its core interaction, then the God whom the pragmatists will recognize and accept must somehow be in touch with humans, must be one to whom and with whom human beings can relate in an intimate way. A


7

God who is apart from the human person and the human condition ceases to be meaningflul. And here it is not apt to say that, according to the pragmatists, "God must be relevant." That is too ambiguous a phrase since it is easily trivialized to mean that God must be involved in and approve of every passing interest of contemporary life, no matter how common and sordid it may be. Consistent with their high ideal of what it means to be a person, the pragmatists' expectations of God and religion are lofty and ennobling. This should inspire individuals to enlarge their horizons, to go beyond the petty concerns of ordinary life, to arouse their emotions and effort, to extend their hopes and ideals as far as possible. But if God and traditional religion are seen to be unhelpful or even hostile to human fulfillment, they must either be rejected or reinterpreted. Succeeding chapters will show what modifications the pragmatists made regarding belief in God and religion. / These are some of the traits which are relevant to the main lines of the present volume. It should be noted that they are discussed because they are seen to be fruitful aspects of pragmatism which can be assimilated by one fiom a different philosophical and religious background. In lectures and writings I have made this point many times. Pragmatism has made valuable suggestions and corrections in many areas. It has renewed a theory of knowledge by its rejection of classical empiricism and idealism, and by its recovery of the importance of contact with reality, of creativity, and of scientific method. It has enriched a theory of person and moral theory by its emphasis on the relationships that should obtain among persons, and on an unselfish commitment to community and the welfare of others. It has stimulated a reconsideration of the theory of God and traditional religion by insisting that the growth of the person as person ought not to be slighted and that a viable religious theory ought to be not only compatible with the full development of the person but also conducive to it. All these are positive contributions which have always characterized authentic pragmatism. Unfortunately, in its early stages they were badly misunderstood, though more lately they have come to be recognized. However (always alhowever), it is possible to consider pragmatism from another angle, not so much to correct what may seem

P R A G M A T E W i m CE4FJW.L TRAITS

9

9

ture of t h g a % & + & & t b o ~ M + ~ i h ~ b @ kcnough h to stop with* ph%[email protected] c h e t h p f d g a n b f s f q a ~ i cstrucI h ~ q m g h apragt tures intm6~&&&&thia~rt&hpd@e-i, matists b i h b e w q t o 6 &i~hbjiht~e@hamcflection,

~~~

experience have also been the occasion of its shortcomings. In viewing pragmatism as an interaction between the person and reality, attention has been diverted from something which has been much maligned and ridiculed by many philosophers and psychologists. It has gone by the name of "introspection." James used the term and the method in his Principles of Psychology, though even in those pre-Watsonian days he was aware of its dangers (PP 185, 192).4 Actually, past philosophers have employed it. Descartes began by looking within the mind for certainty; Locke and Hume made an interior inventory of the storehouse of the / mind, concentrated on sense data, and developed a vast and dizzying array of impressions and ideas. All of them lost contact with the external world, and this came to be a nagging problem for both classical empiricism and idealism. But, for all that, and with the proper caveats given by the pragmatists, there is need for rejection, a return to the nature of syrnbolic representations, such as conceptions, propositions, ideals-in short, the "generals" that are involved in epistemology and moral theory. These representations do not take place "between" subjects and objects, human beings and environment; they are formed by persons themselves due to interactions between them and the outside world. They can become in turn the subject of further analysis. Hence, questions arise. Is the term empirical ssufficient to account for all aspects of experience as dealt with by the pragmatists? What more can we learn, beyond the fact that experience is an interaction between an organism and environment leading to generalizations from concrete, particular interactions? More than that, what do they tell us about the na4 A l l references to the Principles are included in the text as PP, with page number. 1

luctant t h k t m e ~ n f f m m x t ~ ~ a k & 6 a a t s &Wanf ~ itmelmrpsa to thosc thickets. thickets. o Yet I su&ktstI thtmi~ & . a s t k b & a t-$ & @ i s ' a ~ a t i o n experience is, that examination must go deeper. I would draw a comparison with James's approach in his "radical empiricism." This familiar theory was expressed in the Preface to The Meaning of Tmth. In that place, he &s arguing against "the prevalent idea$ ism" according to which "experience as immediately given is all disjunction and no conjunction, and that to make one world out of this separateness, a higher unlfying agency must be there." On the contrary, the fact is %hat the relations between things, conjunctive as well as disjunctive, are just as much matters of direct particular experience, neither more so nor less so, than the things themselves." Consequently, the universe does not need an "extraneous trans-empirical connective support, but possesses in its own right a concatenated or continuous structure" (MT 173).5 James applied this position to classical empiricism as well. In Essays i n Radical Empzriclism, he cites "Hume and his descendants" as ones who also dispense with an Absolute Mind. But he distanced himself from Hume's empiricism on one important point that prompted him to use the term "radical." To be radical, an empiricism must neither admit into its constructions any element that is not directly experienced, nor exclude from them any element that is directly experienced. For such a philosophy, the relations that connect experiences must themselves 6e experienced relations, and any kind of relation experienced must be accounted as 'real' as any thing else in the system [ERE 22-23] .6

James added that "ordinary empiricism" (Berkeley, Hume,James Mill, John Stuart Mill) tended to eliminate connections between All refences to The Meaning of Truthare included in the text as MT, with page number. Italics in the origin& The reference to the Essays in Radical Empzncism is included in the text as ERE, with page number.

10

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

things and emphasize the disjunctions. Like the idealists, then, the empiricists failed to go far enough in their account of experience; as a result they focused on isolated individuals and ended up with discrete sense data and sense objects. In other words, the classical empiricists were not empirical, experiential enough. The mesh of their net was too wide and important aspects of experience were allowed to slip through. Even before the Essays, namely, in the Principles, this radical dimension of James's thought was evident in his treatment of personal identity where he opposed Hume. We are reminded that here James was using "introspection." He complimented Hume for his fine introspective work in pointing out our awareness of diversity. But he criticized Hume for making diversity in our conscious states the whole of it and for missing that which is even more evident and important, namely, the awareness of identity and of an abiding self (PP 33334). The comparison with James's radical empiricism may seem too bold. But now that the errors of "introspection" have been duly exorcised and the unity between person and object properly safeguarded, I am proposing that the time has come for a reflective return to experience so that we may delve more radically, more deeply, and consider aspects of experience which have been ignored or at least slighted. Interactionism, if pressed too far, can become a form of behaviorism in which the mind or the mental is described exclusively in terms of overt behavior involving a biological organism and a physical universe. Certainly pragmatists would strenuously resist that impression. For example, hypotheses, whether in epistemology, moral theory, or whatever, consist in symbolic representations that are generals, both in their expression of the hypotheses themselves and in their function as regulating future action. They surely go beyond a narrow behaviorism and they surpass the limitations of sense data as embodied in classical empiricism. But I feel that pragmatism has not sufficiently examined the nature of such generals and the implications they have for describing the human being as a knower and as a moral agent. In other words, though the notion of interaction is important, it is equally essential, for a full account of experience and of the person, that we reflect on our conscious states themselves as they


11

emerge in the interaction between the knower and the known. I should like to explore this issue and I shall argue that, if certain aspects of pragmatism are examined even as they were stated by the three leading pragmatists themselves, it will be seen that something more than interactions of the kind which they describe are needed for a full account of generals and of the human person. For this reason attention will focus first, in Chapter 2, on the description given by the pragmatists regarding the origin of hypotheses in a theory of knowledge. It will be shown that each in his own way did not adequately explain the origin of hypotheses, but that they seemed to be feeling for something more. Chapter 3 will pursue this point further in relation to moral theory, the notion of an overall purpose or goal, and unconditional obligation. Chapter 4, called "Transcendence," will attempt to show that the description of hypotheses in epistemology and moral theory at the very least implies, and at the most requires, a form of intuition and a complete transcendence of operation over physical or sensible conditions-in short, a "suprasensible" or spiritual knower. This entails the further statement that the human person cannot be adequately defined as an organism different from other living things only in the higher complexity of its biological operations. Thus far the meaning of transcendence is focused on the superiority of the processes needed for epistemology and moral theory and on the superiority of person over material, bodily conditions. In Chapter 4, the notion of transcendence will be continued in a discussion of what the three pragmatists had to say about God. And since they were opposed to a God, or to a theory of religion, that is not intimately related with a human being's involvement in the world, in Chapter 5 the notion of immanence will be developed as it is found in the three pragmatists. Finally, in Chapter 6 Teilhard de Chardin will be presented as representative of how the transcendence and immanence of God are united for the development of the individual, not only as a human being but as a religious person as well.

THE ORIGIN OF HYPOTHESES

The Origin of Hypotheses IN PURSUIT OF THE GOALS indicated in the previous discussion, an account will now be given regarding the manner in which the three pragmatists explained the origin of hypotheses and regarding the ambiguities found therein. Once this has been done, the first step can be taken toward showing how pragmatism should be extended in order that its adherents may give a fuller description of the claims that they have made in this regard.

Peirce's method of generating hypotheses is, of course, abduction. This theme has been discussed often enough and at great length, so that its main lines are familiar and need not be unduly detailed. But before engaging in this enterprise, the meaning of hypothesis should be sharpened. In the previous discussion of pragmatism, it was stated that thinking is not prharily what goes on in the mind. But neither is it reduced to a thoroughgoing behaviorism in which the mental is described purely in terms of overt behavior. There is indeed a mental content, whether it is called a meaning, an idea, a concept, or something else. And this is true of an hypothesis. More than James or Dewey, Peirce was aware of the mental a;r pect of an hypothesis or idea. Some background is needed to appreciate his position. It should be recalled that, when scientific psychology began to emerge in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, the lines between psychology as a philosophical analysis of mind and mental states and psychology as a science had not yet been sharply defined.' Traditionally, the word "psychologf' 1 E d h G. Boring, A Histmy of Experimtal Prychologr (New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts, 1950), p. 541.

I

'

13

was derived from Greek words meaning a study of the soul, and this included its operations, with its mental contents of sensation and ideas, its nature, and its relation to the body. The classical beginning, of course, was Aristotle's treatise On the Sod.This a p proach persisted in philosophy until the emergence of scientific psychology, and even then the two approaches were often intermingled and confused. That Peirce understood the difference between the two is shown in his 1901review in The Nation of Michael Maher's Psychology: Empirical and Rationa1.2 He stated: "Father Maher's purpose is so to present psychology as to illustrate the advantages of the Thomistic Aristotelian metaphysics, as well as the contributions to psychology by St. Thomas Aquinas and by Ari~totle."~ Peirce attributed to Maher "a remarkably complete acquaintance with modern psychology, and a sufficient acquaintance with mediaeval scholastic writings for this purpose." Maher's work covers the whole range of topics usually called psychology (at that time), such as the theory of sensory and intellectual knowledge, the nature of soul and its relation to the body, and free will. The reason for bringing up this aspect of Peirce's thought is to emphasize the fact that he was aware that knowledge has a "mental" content and that it is not reducible to overt behavior. It is this content that is at the forefront of the present discussion on hypotheses. Peirce-and, indeed,James and Dewey-were careful about the meaning of such content. As early as 1869 Peirce criticized the "English doctrine of ideas," which stemmed from Hume, for whom "every idea is a copy of a sensation." Consequently, all ideas are singular and lack that generality which was for Peirce an essential characteristic of mental life and of reality. This tendency was seen in James Mill, whose psychological theory %as: "A1 that is in the mind is sensations, and copies of sensation; and whatever order there is in these copies is merely a reproduction of the order which there was in their originals."' Classical Michael Maher, s.J., Psychology: Empirical and Rational,4th ed., rev. (New York: Longmans, Green, 1901) . Kenneth Laine ~ e t n e rand James Edward Cook (eds.), Charles Sanders Pa'rce: Part Three: 1901-1908 (Lubbock, Tex.: Texas Tech CmtTibutions to THENATION. University Press, 1979), pp. 305-306. 'Max H. Firh (ed.j,' W ~ t i n &o/ C h a h S. P h A Chronob@al Edition (Bloomington:Indiana University Press, 1982), 2: 302-305.

14

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

idealism, too, came under fire from the pragmatists, because insufficientattention was given to concrete conditions in the formation of ideas and because, once formed, ideas did not have to be reexamined in the light of such conditions. But, for all three pragmatists, hypotheses were general formulations regarding the activities of singular, concrete objects and predictions as to how such objects will operate in the future under similar conditions. There is a move, then, from singular instances to general formulations. It is the general nature of hypotheses that is now the focus of discussion. Regarding abduction, then, a starting point is Peirce's statement: "All ideas of science come to it by way of abduction. Abduction consists in studying facts and devising a theory to explain them. Its only justification is that if we are ever to understand things at all, it must be in that way" (CP 5.145).5 It is a logical process, and the only one, for generating new ideas (CP 5.171). So important was abduction for Peirce that he considered it to be one of the most essential aspects of his pragmaticism. The kinds of problems he envisioned were not simple ones which could be solved easily. They were problems whose solutions one would never dream of forming, even if the elements of the hypothesis were before the mind (CP 5.181). He spoke often of strictly scientific theories and made the claim that it is by abduction that such theories have been developed (CP 5.172). But he had in mind also the circumstances faced by people in ordinary life. The basic problem that Peirce was trying to solve was how the scientist can hit upon an hypothesis that would be sufficient to explain a given happening in nature. Where does one begin? How does one narrow down the options?As Peirce states: "Think of what trillions of trillions of hypotheses might be made of which one only is true; and yet after two or three or at the very most a dozen guesses, the physicist hits pretty nearly on the correct hypothesis. By chance he would not have been likely to do so in the whole time that has elapsed since the earth was solidified" (CP 5.172). Peirce indulged in a bit of fancy here, for he asked how we could exclude as explanations the conjunctions of the All references to Collected Papers of Cha~lesSanders Peirce are included in the text, with volume and paragraph number.


15

planets or some chance work of mystical power pronounced by the dowager empress of China or even the presence of some invisible jinni. In another place, he added other possible explanations such as the day of the week on which the phenomenon occurred, the blue dress worn by the scientist's daughter, his dream of a white horse the night before, or the fact that the milkman was late that morning (CP 5.591). Fanciful indeed, but it was Peirce's attempt, however mdadroit, to make a point and to dismiss some recourse to imaginary or chance occurrences that no one would consider to be reasonable. Nonetheless, the solutions do not appear out of nowhere. It may be the case that primitive notions that were stages in the development of modem science were the result of guesswork or conjecture. "But the stimulus to guessing, the hint of the conjecture, was derived from experience. The order of the march of suggestion in retroduction [abduction] is from experience to hypothesis" (CP 2.755). Nonetheless, this statement, coupled with the one above about all the elements of the hypothesis being before the mind, does not explain precisely how experience contribktes to the hypothesis. In fact, he admitted that "however man may have acquired his faculty of divining the ways of Nature, it has certainly not been by a selfcontrolled and critical logic. Even now he cannot give any exact reason for his best guesses" (CP 5.173). And so he had recourse to calling this ability or faculty "a certain Insight, not strong enough to be oftener right than wrong, but strong enough not to be overwhelmingly more often wrong than right, into the Thirdnesses, the general elements, of Nature" (CP 5.173). In other places he called it instinctive insight, genius, a natural light, a light of nature, or il lume naturale appealed to by Galileo and undoubtedly employed by Kepler, Gilbert, Harvey, and Copernicus (CP 5.181, 604; 6.477; 1.80). But in calling the faculty "insight," Peirce added that the idea that puts together the different elements "flashes the new suggestion before our contemplation" (CP 5.181); it surpasses "the general powers of our reasony7and sets us in directions "as if we were in possession of facts that are entirely beyond the reach of our senses" (CP 5.173). Peirce, t v n , did atfirm that past experience, "funded experience" asJames and Dewey would call it, entered into the formation of hypotheses, but he did not speclfyjustwhat role it plays.

16

17

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


In addition to the lack of clarity regarding the role of facts in abduction, there is also some ambiguity about the manner in which abduction can be called a logical process. His description of the origin of the hypothesis leads one to suspect that it is not under conscious control. And yet, control seems to be an essential aspect of logic. His answer to this apparent dilemma is found, I believe, in two of Peirce's statements: the first is that "abduction, although it is very little hampered by logical rules, nevertheless is logical inference, asserting its conclusion only problematically or conjecturally, it is true, but nevertheless having a perfectly logical form" (CP 5.188); the second is that control is exerted in deliberate and selfcontrolled criticism, that is, in the process of subjecting the hypothesis to inductive test (CP 5.108). It would seem, then, that two characteristics identlfy the abductive process as "a perfectly logical form," at least in Peirce's sense: one is that the hypothesis be problematical or conjectural; the other, that it be subjected to inductive test. One ought to pursue further Peirce's explanation of how the ideas or hypotheses arise. Basically, abduction is due to an instinct similar to that found in the animal kingdom. Peirce uses the example of the pecking instinct in chickens. "You cannot seriously think that every little chicken, that is hatched, has to rummage through all possible theories until it lights upon the good idea of picking up something and eating it. On the contrary, you think the chicken has an innate idea of doing this; that is to say, that it can think of this, but has no faculty of thinking anything else" (CP 5.591). But if we attribute instinct to animals, why should we deny it to humans? And here it is necessary to introduce the evolutionary process that is at the basis of Peirce's entire philosophy. Evolution in relation to abduction is mentioned by Peirce when he argued that chance cannot explain how the scientist narrows down the trillions of possible explanations to a workable few. How do we explain this ability? "You may produce this or that excellent psychological account of the matter. But let me tell you that all the psychology in the world will leave the logical problem just where it was. I might occupy hours developing that point. I must pass it by. You may say that evolution accounts for the thing. I don't doubt it is euolution. But as for explaining evolution by chance, there has not been time enough" (CP 5.1'72; italics added).

The connection between abduction as instinct and evolution is briefly mentioned here. But he has explained it further in other places. For Peirce the human mind is a part of nature and has emerged by the same evolutionary process. Consequently, there is a connaturality between mind and cosmos, which means that the mind has an affinity with nature, is attuned to it, and has "a natural adaptation to imagining correct theories of some kinds, and in particular to correct theories about forces." "In short, the instincts conducive to assimilation of food, and the instincts conducive to reproduction, must have involved from the beginning certain tendencies to think truly about physics, on the one hand, and about psychics, on the other. It is somehow more than a figure of speech to say that nature fecundates the mind of man with ideas that, when these ideas grow up, will resemble their father, Nature" (CP 5.591). Peirce, then, has placed the power of forming hypotheses firmly within nature. And in calling it "insight," he clearly separated it from "old style intuition," which is considered to be infallible and without contact with concrete experience. But one is still left wondering about the psychological, or, better, philosophical process regarding the formation of the hypotheses. What is the meaning of a power that goes beyond "the general powers of our reason," that operates "as if we were in possession of facts that are entirely beyond the reach of our senses, or that flashes the new suggestion before our contemplation"? These questions are especially crucial in view of the fact that abduction, and indeed Peirce's whole logic and theory of knowledge, involve generality rising above the particulars of sense experience. Evolution may well account for our having this power of insight, but there is needed a further philosophical analysis of its nature and mode of operation. Otherwise, we are left with a gap that is bridged by some unexplained "flash" or leap.6

-

6 A similar problem arises regarding perceptual judgment. Peirce called it an extreme or limiting case of abduction (CP 5.181, 186). This aspect of Peirce's thought is complex and often debated. See, for example, Richard J. Bernstein, "Peirce's Theory of Perception," in Studies in the Philosophy of Charles Sanders Peirce, 2nd Series, ed. Edward C. Moore and Richard S. Robin (Amherst: University of ~assachusetd~ress, 1964), pp. 165-89; Sandra B. Rosenthal, "Peirce's Theory of PerceptualJudgment: An Ambiguity," Journal ofthe Histmy of Philosophy, 7 (1969), 303-314; Patricia A. Turrisi, "Peirce's Logic of Discovery: Abduc-

18

19

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


For all that, "a thoroughgoing evolutionism" played a central role in Peirce's philosophy (CP 6.14). It is remarkable how quickly he was able to appreciate the importance of Darwin's Origin of Species,which was published in 1859, and he discussed evolution at length (CP 1.lO3-109; 6.13-17, 28'1-313). A few remarks must suffice.' He cited three theories of evolution: Darwinism, that evolution took place by natural selection or successive, purely fortuitous and insensible variations in reproduction; Lamarckism, that very minute, nonfortuitous changes are made, not in reproduction, but by the passing on of acquired characteristics; and cataclysmal evolution, in which changes have not been small or fortuitous and have taken place in reproduction through sudden changes in the environment (CP 1.103; 6.293-302). Peirce criticized Darwinism for not being sufficiently justified scientifically, and he objected to the use being made of it to defend necessitarianism and mechanism, as well as chance (CP 6.297-98). He deplored the fact that it fostered the "gospel of greed" and laissezfaire political economy of the nineteenth century (CP 6.290,294, 297). Nonetheless, Peirce conceded that elements of all three theories had something to do with the evolutionary process, though he favored a view closer to Lamarckism in which habits are formed and ends pursued. The discussion of Peirce's evolutionary philosophy seems to have taken us away from the problem regarding logic and psychology. When this broader context is considered, the original question seems to become trivial. I did not intend that this should be so. My main purpose was to fill out his position regarding the origin of hypotheses and its relation to his theory of evolution. At the same time, I wanted to point out that Peirce still left unexplained the process of mind, the "philosophy" or "psychology" of ideas, which gives rise to these hypotheses. Nor do references

to evolution and sudden unbidden "flashes" adequately explain the nature of hypotheses, which are generals.

tion and the Universal Categories," Transactions of the Charh S. Peirce Society, 26 (1990), 465-97. However, these articles do not specifically address the problems I am raising: namely, the nature of the faculty of insight, its superiority over the general powers of the senses and reason, and the manner in which perceptual iudment moves from concrete sense experience to generality. See CP 5.15031,757, 173, 186. See the fine treatment of this aspect of Peirce's thought by Vincent G. Potter, s.J., Charles S. Peirce: On Nmms and-1dea~(Amherst: university of Massachusetts Press, 1967; repr. New York: Fordham University Press, 1997), pp. 171-90.

The purpose of this section is to note what James has to say regarding some of the items that were discussed in the treatment of Peirce. There is indeed a difference in the aims and mode of treatment between the two, but there are also some common themes that can be detected. The text to be examined first will be the final chapter of James's The PrincipZes of Psychology, entitled "Necessary Truths and the Effects of Experience." It is not often treated at length, and I myself have long neglected it. Only recently have I come to appreciate it, mainly in connection with the subject matter of the present discussion. Even now I do not claim fully to understand all the ramifications of the chapter, for it is a long and wide-ranging one, covering a good deal of material that is not always presented in a clear or orderly manner. The following topics have been selected, though not in the order in which they are found in the Principles: the meaning of "psychogenesis" and its relation to experience and necessary propositions; the two modes of experience; the genesis of the natural sciences, pure science, and metaphysical, aesthetic, and moral principles; evolution as an explanation of the origin of the organic structure of the mind; and some problems regarding the generation of hypotheses. The chapter begins with the following statement: "In this final chapter I shall treat of what has sometimes been called psychogenesis, and try to ascertain just how far the connections of things in the outward environment can account for our tendency to think of, and to react upon, certain things in certain ways and in no other, even though personally we have had of the things in question no experience, or almost no experience, at all" (PP 1215). The tendency he has principally in view is that which prompts the mind to form necessary propositions as opposed to those that are "dubious." An example oft& former is one that attaches "equal" to " o p posite sides of a parallelogram," while an example of the latter

~

20


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

would be the joining of "tomorrow" and "rainy." James holds it as usually agreed that dubious propositions are the result of " ex~erience,"while necessary propositions owe their certainty to the "organic structure of the.mind." It is precisely the role of "experience" in the formation of necessary propositions that James wishes to clanfy. He maintains that there are two modes of experience that must be accounted for. The first mode is "experience proper" or the "frontdoor" kind, the door of the five senses by which we perceive "the elementary qualities of cold, heat, pleasure, pain, red, blue, sound, silence, etc." They are "original, innate, or a pnon' properties of our subjective nature," though they require contact with real objects to activate them. They are mental products that are not the realities themselves, but the mirror, a duplication of them. Consequently, there is "a harmony between [the mind's] nature and the nature of the truth outside of it, a harmony whereby it follows that the qualities of both parties match" (PP 1216, 1225). But in this regard, it is necessary to keep in mind what James said in Chapters XVII and XIX of the Principles regarding sensation and percep tion. The former has more to do with simple qualities, such as hot, cold, red, hard, and pain. As a matter of fact, however, a pure sensation is an abstraction and occurs, if at all, only in infancy. Perception is consciousness of particular material objects that are present, such as an orange or a chair. It is, therefore, made up of several qualities (PP 651, 653, 722-73). It seems proper to assume, then, that in the present context "frontdoor" experience has to do principally with perception, that is, with particular material objects, not simple qualities. But there is another aspect of "experience proper," or experience of the "frontdoor" kind. Not only does the mind receive various impressions, but it does so in regular space-time relationships, in the order of sequence and coexistence. There is, in effect, a "constant conjunction of ideas" fixed by the principle of habit and memory. "Things juxtaposed in space impress us, continue to be thought of asjuxtaposed." Hence, we can be sure of such propositions as that fire bums and water wets, glass refracts, heat melts snow, fish live in water and die on land, and many others.James claims that in this way are explained a large number of our abstract beliefs, ideas of concrete things, and ways of behav-

-

,

21

ior. In this process, "the mind is passive and tributary, a servile copy, fatally and unresistingly fashioned from without." James pays tribute to the associationist school-Locke, Hume, Hartley, James Mill-for pointing out this aspect of experience. At the same time, he criticizes them for making "one huge error-that of the construction of our thoughts out of the compounding of themselves together of immutable and incessantly recurring 'simple ideas.' " On the contrary, it is things thought oJ;and not ideas, that are associated in the mind (PP 522). Nonetheless, he makes it clear that both the perceptions of the five senses and the formation of the above propositions are due to experience proper, experience of the frontdoor kind (PP 1217,1219,1226). But now, as James states, "the plot thickens." For there are type; of judgments that cannot be explained by mere time-space relationships, do not mirror reality, and therefore are not due to experience in the ordinary sense. They come in by the "back door." Such judgments are found primarily in science, which selects, generalizes, and classifies objects, and thus forms "an abstract system of hypothetical data and laws." This "scientific algebra" does not immediately resemble reality but is applicable to it. At the same time, "scientific conceptions must prove their worth by being 'verified' " (PP 1229-33). Under scientificjudgments, James includes "the elementary laws of mechanics, physics, and chemistry." Strangely enough, he excludes the propositions already mentioned, that is, that fire burns, heat melts snow, etc. These "empirical truths" involve space-time relationships and are called "the proximate laws of nature, and habitudes of concrete things"; they are impressed upon the mind through the front door of ordinary experience. This distinction between elementary laws of science and proximate laws of nature is puzzling. In some cases, the difference between them would seem to be slight. The identifymg characteristics that he gives of a scientific truth is that it is proved for the most part by "artificial experiences of the laboratory" after the truth has been conjectured, and that it does not arise in the mind passively through association. But it would seem that such judgments asy'heat melts snow" possess, for the most part at least, the qualities that he ascribes to scientificjudgments, that is, they are abstract (scientificjudgments are called "highly ab-

22

23

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


stract"), they follow lawlike ways, conceive generally what exists only particularly, and are always subject to the test of experience. In any case, James holds that scientific truths must square with the proximate truths of nature (PP 1233-34). There are other kinds of relations James discusses under "back door" which, he claims, are even less dependent on the order of ordinary experience. These will be mentioned briefly. The first are those of the "pure or a phi sciences," namely, classification, logic, and mathematics. They are exclusively the result of comparison whereby resemblances and differences are noticed and do not involve space-time relations. Black and white can be distinguished and can be placed on opposite ends of a scale of colors, whether or not objects with such colors exist, and no matter in what order intermediate qualities may have been perceived. In making the comparisons, one need not consult experience; the ideas themselves are enough. The same is true of other qualities. In addition, in a given series of equality or degrees of increase, the mind can skip intermediate items and compare various terms in the series. Something similar obtains in classificatory series, logical series, and mathematical relations. In sum: "Classification, logic, and mathematics all result, then, from the mere play of the mind comparing its conceptions, no matter whence the latter may have come. The essential condition for the formation of all these sciences is that we should have grown capable of apprehending series as such, and of distinguishing them as homogeneous or heterogeneous, and as possessing definite directions of what I have called 'increase' " (PP 1253). The general conclusion of all this is: "There is thus no denying the fact that the mind isjitted with necessary and eternal relations which it jnds between certain of its great conceptionsy and which f m a determinate system, independent of the order of ji-equency in which expmknce may have associated the c o n e tion's originals in time and space7' (PP 1255). Still other kinds of relations which James maintained are in no sense the result of ordinary experience are those expressed in metaphysical, aesthetic, and ethical systems. James wanted to leave room for these in opposition to what he claimed is a narrow view of the world of science. It asserts that the only things that are real are "atoms and ether, with no properties but masses and velocities expressible by numbers, and paths expressible by ana-

lytic formulas. . . . The only realities are swarming solids in everlasting motion." This is the view of "the modern mechanicophysical philosophy" (PP 1258-60). Yet the human spirit is not satisfied with a sterile, purposeless universe; it searches for the very ideals that have been "butchered" by science. These include metaphysical axioms (PP 1262-64), such as "whatever is in the effect must be in the cause," "nothing happens in nature without a reason." As yet, these are not propositions of fact, but are ideals which prompt us to see if indeed the world of reality conforms to them. The successes achieved in science give hope that other systems will be applicable to the real order of things. "Metaphysics should take heart from the example of physics, simply confessing that hers is the longer task" (PP 1264). Aesthetic and moral principles are also numbered among those in which ordinary experience plays no part (PP 1264-68). These would include musical sensibility and judgments of justice and equity. But suchjudgments are far less reliable than the scientific, and until philosophy can show that aesthetic and moral relations obtain in nature, they remain as postulates and not propositions. They often conflict with the order of reality, though scientific judgments never do. "In other words, though nature's materials lend themselves slowly and discouragingly to our translation of them into ethical forms, but more readily into aesthetic forms; to translation into scientific forms they lend themselves with relative ease and completeness." But even in the latter case, the translation is never complete, though repeated successes give hope of ultimate victory (PP 1235-36,1269). For James, an important aspect of Chapter XXVII of the Principks is the role of evolution. In this regard, the title of the chapter, "Necessary Truths and the Effects of Experience," is deceiving, for it deals with much more than that. He also discussed the merits of Darwinism and Lamarckism with a decided preference for the former, and he criticized Spencer for his adoption of the latter. These incursions into evolutionary theory tend to interrupt the flow of ideas on the subject matter as given in the title of the chapter, and as a result he is not as clear as he could be regarding these. For all that, I shall attempt to indicate briefly his position on the role of evolukon in experience as treated. James had made a distinction between two types of "experi-

,

24

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

ence." The front-door type had to do with ordinary experience, that is, with individual qualities, perceptions, and space-time relations, and with judgments based on them. Backdoor experience involved higher aesthetic, moral, and intellectual judgments in which ordinary experience ultimately played no part. James then discussed the origin of both of these. They are not due w e l y to the multiplication of experiences. Of course, individual experience has a part to play, for in space-time relationships there has to be exposure to sensible things and the influence of habit and memory. Also, in scientific, metaphysical, aesthetic, and moral judgments in which ordinary experience has no direct role, the knower must begin with sense experience and must end by vex*ing the judgments in actual tests. But ultimately all these judgments are accounted for by the organic structure of the mind, that is, of the brain and nervous system. Moreover, this structure is the result of evolution whereby organic characteristics are inherited. But again, these are not acquired through repeated actions of our ancestors, resulting in a transmission to subsequent generations of tendencies in the nervous system. James cites at great length Spencer's support for this Lamarckian interpretation. He calls this explanation "a brilliant but seductive statement" without sufficient justification (PP 1218-22). Instead, he adopted the Darwinian theory of accidental variations by which certain peculiarities helpful for survival are passed on to future generations (PP 1218-22, 1224-25). At the end of the chapter, in a section too detailed for treatment here, James discussed the theories of Lamarck and Darwin on the origin of instinct. He rejected the former and adopted the latter (PP 1230-80). We see, then, that James gave a physiological explanation of necessaryjudgments based on evolution. Did he have anything to say about the logical origins of these judgments, comparable to Peirce's theory of abduction and perceptual judgment? Not very clearly, in view of the fact that he did not distinguish precisely between a physiological or psychological explanation and a logical one. Regarding scientific conceptions, he stated that "their genesis is strictly akin to that of the flashes of poetry and sallies of wit to which the instable brain-paths equally give rise." But there is a vast difference between them; poetry and wit are their own justification, whereas scientific conceptions must be verified


25

through further tests. But tests do not produce scientific judgments; they only preserve them if they are verified (PP 1232-33). Judgments of the pure or a p7a.m' sciences received even briefer treatment. At their basis is the grasp of difference, for example, between black and white. He asked: "Why should difference have popped into our heads so invariably with the thought of them?" (PP 1238).One could offer either a subjective or objective reason. The former would claim that the structure of the mind accounts for the phenomenon, makes the mind the arbiter of reality, and discards the influence of experience. The objective reason asserts that merely the persistent relations of colors outside the mind dictate the nature of these judgments, with no further explanation. In the light of what James had already said about the nature of expekence, it is understandable that to him this is no explanation, "but a mere appeal to the fact that somehow the mind does know what is there." Hence he concluded: The only clear thing to do is to give up the sham of a pretended [logical?] explanation, and to fall back on the fact that the sense of difference has arisen, in some natural manner doubtless, but in a manner which we do not understand. It was by the back-stairs way, at all events; and, from the very first, happened to be the only mode of reaction by which consciousness could feel the transition from one term to another of what (in consequence of this very reaction) we now call a contrasted pair [PP 12391.

James grouped together the "necessary and eternal relations" of natural and pure science, and he asked: "Should we continue to call these sciences 'intuitive,' 'innate,' or ' a pr~ori'bodiesof truth, or not?" He expressed a preference for doing so, except for the "odium" connected with these words. But he did distance himself from Locke, for whom intuitive propositions dealt only with ideas and did not apply to reality, and from Kant, who "pretended [for these propositions] a legislating character, even for all possible experience" (PP 1255-58). James had even less to say about the origin of aesthetic and moral judgments, and he claimed that an adequate treatment would require a separate chapter which could pot be included in the Pn'nn'ples (PP 1267). The focus thus far has been on James's Principles because they touch upon some of the themes taken up by Peirce, namely, the

26

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

role of experience, the origin of hypotheses, and evolution. What he had to say about all this is meager enough compared with Peirce's treatment. In the case of scientific hypotheses, he made vague references to poetry and wit, and he stopped short of accepting intuition. The capacity of the mind to rise above ordinary experience and to form hypotheses is attributed to its organic structure, that is, to the formation of the brain and nervous system. This in turn is due to the Darwinian theory of accidental variations suitable for survival and passed on to later generations. In B a p t i s m , James obliquely added further light on his position when he spoke of "funded experience" in the formation of new opinions. An individual already possesses a background of old beliefs, but then the mind is unsettled by some new fact that goes against an established position. An attempt is made to alter the old opinion, but in the process the individual strives to preserve as much of the old as possible. James stated: He saves as much as he can, for in this matter of belief we are all extreme conservatives. So he tries to changejrst this opinion, and then that (for they resist change very variously), until at last some new idea coma up which he can graft upon the ancient stock with a minimum of disturbance of the latter, some idea that mediates between the stock and the new experience and runs them into one another most felicitously and expediently [P 35. Italics added]

Note the vagueness of the italicized words. James was more intent on emphasizing the role of "funded experience," the older truths. These are preserved with "a minimum of modification," they are "stretched" just enough to accommodate the novelty and preserve the familiar, they must not be outre' or eccentric, they are a "go-between, a smoother-over of transitions," they join old opinion and new fact, they eliminate sudden jolts and preserve continuity. So important are older truths that "their influence is absolutely controlling." "Loyalty to them is the first principle-in most cases the only principle" (P 35. See also 43, 104, 107, 111). These texts are most helpful in defending James against the charge of an irresponsible relativism, which would indict him for eliminating all constraints on truth. But they do not shed much All references to Pragmatism are included in the text as P, with page number.


27

light on the process by which new hypotheses or "opinions" are developed, that is, on the move from individual concrete situations to general propositions.

Several of Dewey's most important works had to do with the purpose and scope of logic. These were, in order of publication: Essays in Experimental Logic (1903, rev. 1916) ; How We Think (1910, rev. 1933);Reconstruction in Philosophy, Chapter VI (1920,with new Introduction 1948); and Logic: The T h e q of Inquiry (1938). In a sense, Human Nature and Conduct (1922) constitutes a separate category, since it had some important things to say about the relationship between logic and psychology. For this reason, it will be treated last. The opening sentence of Essays in Experimental Logic lays the groundwork for Dewey's whole approach to logic. "The key to understanding the doctrine of the essays which are herewith repknted lies in the passages regarding the temporal order of experience" (MW 10:320). In Reconstruction in Philosophy he stated: "If thought or intelligence is the means of intentional reconstruction of experience, then logic, as an account of the procedure of thought, is not purely formal" (MW lZ:l57)). Experience, then, in its meaning, reconstruction, and development, is the focal point of logic. Dewey's thought on experience is so familiar that it need be only briefly recalled. Experience is an interaction or transaction between organism and environment such that a state of satisfaction or equilibrium is achieved. In this sense, it is not purely formal, that is, it does not deal with things that go on exclusively in the mind, and it arises out of concrete situations.A pervasive quality runs through all elements of the experience, giving it unity and settlement. But there may arise some new situation which disturbs the equilibrium by setting its elements into conflict with one another. This conflict is not merely a mental phenomenon; it is a characteristic of the interaction between organism and e vironment. In relation to logic, the state oftenP sion is a state of doubt and uncertainty. Both equilibrium and disturbance are prereflective stages. The stage of reflection,

28

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

thinking, or inquiry begins when the individual searches for a tentative solution and tests it. If the solution is successful, equilibrium is restored. This final stage is knowledge as the outcome of inquiry. In accordance with what has been said about Peirce and James, I would like to focus on Dewey's account of how a tentative solution or hypothesis is attained. He described it at some length in several places. At times these descriptions seem to be notably different. Further comment on this point will be postponed until after the various explanations have been given. In Essays in Experimental Logic, Dewey used the term "dynamic" to describe an experience. He meant it in two senses. One indicates the pervasive quality that binds the elements of the experience into a continuous whole. But the elements that are in tension and conflict are also called dynamic, that is, they are striving ';to re-formation of the whole and to a restatement of the parts"; they are continually moving to recover the equilibrium that was lost (MW 2:329). There then begins the process of reflection, thinking, or inquiry, which starts with locating the difficulty by examining the facts. There follows the search for a possible solution or hypothesis, that is, "running over various ideas, sorting them out, comparing one with another, trying to get one which will unite in itself the strength of two, searching for new points of view, developing new suggestions; guessing, suggesting, selecting, and rejecting" (MW 1:160).This dynamic aspect is stated even more pointedly in How We Think, where Dewey describes the process by which the hypothesis arises. The first suggestion occurs spontaneously; it comes to mind automatically; it spzngs up; it "pops," as we have said, "into the mind"; it flashes upon us. There is no direct control of its occurrence; the idea just comes or it does not come; that is all that can be said. There is nothing intelkctual about its occurrence. The intellectual element consists in what we do with it, how we use it, a $ ~its sudden occurrence as an idea [LW 8:202]. But Dewey added something more to the process of generating hypotheses. There must be observation or a careful study of the facts and an "insight" into the problem by which one "corrects, modifies, expands the suggestion that originally occurred." Facts


29

give control over the kind of hypothesis to be selected. In more difficult cases, more facts will have to be gathered to see if the hypothesis is still viable. In addition, there is a dependence on the "store of knowledge" that has been accumulated from past experience, the education of the individual, and the level of culture and science achieved at a given time and place (LW 8:203204). A similar point was made in Reconstruction in Philosophy, in which Dewey stated that "the first distinguishing characteristic of thinking then is facing the facts-inquiry, minute and extensive scrutinizing, observation" (MW 12:160). Here, as in other places, he also emphasized the point that logic arises out of concrete situations and never loses sight of them. He is thus opposing a logic that goes on only in the mind and then dictates how we are to think about reality. practically the whole of Part I of Logic: The Theory of Inquiry repeats in detail the scope of logic. The first six chapters describe the subject matter of logic, the existential matrix-biological and cultural--of inquiry, and the pattern of inquiry. The familiar sequence is explained in detail, namely, the nature of experience as interaction between organism and environment, the satisfactory stage of experience, its disturbance, and the process of inquiry to re-establish its equilibrium. But Dewey emphasized again the need of careful scrutiny in order that an hypothesis may develop; "the cases in which a problem and its probable solution flash upon an inquirer are cases where much prior ingestion and digestion have occurred." He then asked: "How is the formation of a genuine problem so controlled that further inquiries will move toward a solution?" First of all, no problem is completely indeterminate. It already has some recognizable characteristics that are located in a time and place. These give shape and direction to possible solutions. The latter are "suggested," they "present themselves"; outside of very familiar situations, they are vague, and as suggestions they "just spring up, flash upon us, occur to us", and "pop into our heads." Dewey attributed this to the "workings of the psycho-physical organism," and as such they are not logical. Nonetheless, they are important initial steps for the logical process of testing the hypotheses through experiment (LW 12:112-15). \ Dewey advanced further his description of the origin of hypoth-

30

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


eses when he described the mutual interchange of facts and new ideas. The former already exist, the content of the latter is yet to be formulated and brought to reality. This interchange can only be understood by recognizing that they are "operational"; they interact with one another.

ration of the meaning of experience which he gave in "The Need for a Recovery of Philosophy," when he defined it as "a future implicated in a present" (MW lO:9). In his terms, the suggestion springs up spontaneously, automatically; it pops into the mind, flashes upon us without control. At other times, however, he emphasized the role of observation of the facts so that the problem may be clearly understood. Such observation even seems to have some control over the hypotheses that are selected. Past experience, too, exercises a similar influence. And yet in the same context, he referred to the hypothesis as being suggested, springing up, flashing upon us, popping into our heads. Then again, facts and ideas or hypotheses are "operational" in the sense that they interact with one another-the idea prompting the search for new facts and these in turn urging the search for other solutions. Finally, Dewey invoked the non-logical "workings of the psychophysical organism" to explain how the new ideas flash upon the mind. In all these varied explanations, however, there was one constant, namely, that there is a gap between the concrete facts and the new idea or hypothesis. Although he sometimes called it "intuition," it is clear that he did not intend the kind of thinking that takes place in the mind without contact with the sense world either in the formation of new ideas or in their test for validity. Reference has already been made to Dewey's Human Nature and Conduct. Though its subtitle is An Introduction to Social Psychology, he maintained in the Preface that he did not propose it to be such. Rather, it has to do with habit as the key to social psychology, and impulse and intelligence as the key to individualized mental activity (MW 14:3).Three central sections that comprise the bulk of the volume deal with the place of habit, impulse, desire, and intelligence in conduct. In accordance with the purpose of the present chapter, a selection will be made of those details that bear upon the relation of logic to psychology. What interested Dewey was the role that psychological factors play in intelligent behavior. He noted that it has been the practice of psychologists to emphasize instincts as "the fountain head of conduct" and to place them before habit. But this is true only if mind or consciousness is considered merely as selfenclosed and independent of social conditions. It is also to overlook the influ-

When the problematic situation is such as to require extensive inquiries to effect its resolution, a series of interactions intervenes. Some observed facts point to an idea that stands for a possible solution. This idea evokes more observations. Some of the newly observed facts link up with those previously observed and are such as to rule out other observed things with respect to their evidential function. The new order of facts suggests a modified idea (or hypothesis) which occasions new observations whose result again determines a new order of acts, and so on until the existing order is both unified and complete [LW 12:117].

Whether one calls this interchange dynamic or operational, it seems indeed to be a lively affair in which spontaneity appears to have broken the bonds of limit and control. Perhaps this aspect of experience is no more clearly explained than in a passage fiom Art as Experience (1934). "Intuition" is that meeting of the old and new in which the readjustment involved in every form of consciousness is effected suddenly by means of a quick and unexpected harmony which in its bright abruptness is like a flash of revelation. Oftentimes the union of old and new, of foreground and background, is accomplished only by effort, prolonged perhaps to the point of pain. In any case, the background of organized meanings can alone convert the new situation from the obscure into the clear and luminous. When old and new jump together, like sparks when the poles are adjusted, there is intuition. This latter is thus neither an act of pure intellect in apprehending rational truth nor a Crocean grasp by spirit of its own images and states [LW 10:270-711.

From all this it would seem that there was some ambivalence in Dewey's description of the origin of hypotheses. At times he emphasized the spontaneous manner in which possible solutions arise. The discordant elements of experience are dynamic in the sense that they are already striving for a successful reintegration even before the reflective stage begins. This seems to be an elabo-

31

32

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

ence on behavior of impulses that are conditioned by social relationships (MW 14:68). In his treatment of these psychological factors, Dewey unfortunately did not give clear and precise definitions. He tended to presume that those with a knowledge of psychology would be familiar with them. It would seem that, placed on a scale from the most rigid to the more spontaneous, the sequence would be instinct, habit, and impulse and desire. Instincts are often claimed to be definite,independent, and original, and as such they "manifest themselves in specific acts in a one-to-one correspondence" (MW 14:104).Yet even simple acts such as sex and hunger involve the whole organism and never function in exactly the same way. Also, the environment in which they operate is always changing, and this will alter the consequences of the act (W14104-105). Habits are acquired and involve the interaction of organism and environment. "Habits are arts. They involve skill of sensory and motor organs, cunning or craft, and objective materials. They assimilate objective energies, and eventuate in command of environment" (MW 14:15-16). Dewey maintained that habit and thinking are not separate functions independent of one another. Thought without habit lacks effective power. Habit without thought is mechanical routine. It is true that "all habit involves mechanization. Habit is impossible without setting up a mechanism of action, physiologically engrained, which operates 'spontaneously,' automatically, whenever the cue is given. But mechanization is not of necessity aU there is to habit." In all forms of life, habit is flexible, and the more so in higher forms (MW 1448-52). Dewey focused more directly on the interplay of habit and thought. He stated that "habits are conditions of intellectual efficiency,"since they fulfill both a restrictive and liberating function. They are restrictive in that they keep the mind focused on the situation at hand and enable action to take place along familiar paths. Otherwise, "thought works gropingly, fumbling in confused uncertainty." On the positive side, the more numerous and flexible the habits are, the wider is the scope for observation and formation of new ideas (MW 14121-23). But there are other psychological elements which are essential for reflective thought, and one consists in impulses, "the pivots upon which re-organization of activities turn [sic], they are agen-


33

cies of deviation, for giving new directions to old habits and changing their quality" (MW 14:67). In the infant, they are scattered and aimless, but they become potent forces through social arrangements. They then become the "means of reconstructive growth" (MW 14:68). And how does all this take place? Dewey returned to his notion of experience and the tension that is sometimes caused by a new, disturbing event. At this point, an impulse is released which brings about a redistribution of the elements of the experience. The following remarkable passage, though long, is worthy of quoting in full since Dewey brings together experience, impulse, and habit into a unified description of how equilibrium is restored to a disturbed situation. In ,this period of redistribution impulse determines the direction of movement. It furnishes the focus about which reorganization swirls. Our attention in short is always directed forward to bring to notice something which is imminent but which as yet escapes us. Impulse defines the peering, the search, the inquiry. It is, in logzcal language, the movement into the unknown, not into the immense inane of the unknown at large, but into that special unknown which when it is hit upon restores an ordered, unified action. During this search, old habit supplies content, filling, definite, recognizable, subject-matter. It begins as uague presentiment of what we are going towards. As organized habits are definitely deployed and focused, the confused situation takes on form, it is "cleared up"the essential function of intelligence. Processes become objects. Without habit there is only irritation and confused hesitation. With habit alone there is machine-like repetition, a duplicating recurrence of old acts. With conflict of habits and release of impulse there is conscious search [MW 14126. Italics added].

Dewey also discussed desire in relation to intelligence. In some respects, it is difficult to distinguish desire from impulse. But his intent was to argue that the process of intelligence is not cold, detached, without fervor or inspiration. He also wished to rebut the view that desire is aimed exclusively either at an object in the environment or at a pleasurable state. For Dewey its goal includes both. It would seem, then, that desire differs from bare impulse in that the former has some objective. For the purpose of the present discussion,\ the following remarks will suffice since Dewey's thought follows a familiar pattern. He stated: "Desire is the

34

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


forward urge of living creatures." When things go along smoothly, desire is quiescent. But when obstacles arise and activity loses focus, desire emerges as an "activity surging forward to break through what dams it up" (MW 14:171-72). Yet intelligence must guide it "by a study of the conditions and causes, the workings and consequences of the greatest possible variety of desires and combinations of desire." Intelligence thus turns desire into plans that are selected and tested according to the usual logical procedure (MW 14:175). It can be seen that Human Nature and Conduct added psychological dimensions to the process by which new ideas are generated. Habit, impulse, and desire are as important as past experience, observation of the facts, and the identification of the problem. At the same time, the italicized words in the above text on habit, and what he had to say about impulse and desire, all indicate the same kind of gap that appears in all other descriptions that Dewey gave of the process. In Logic: The Theory of Inquiry, he referred to the "workings of the psycho-physical organism," but this aspect was not elaborated. Nor did he link the psychological and logical aspects with evolution to the extent that Peirce and James did. It is clear from his essay, "The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy," that he adopted the Darwinian principle of natural selection. He claimed that it undermined traditional religious and philosophical arguments for design, or for absolute and fixed origins and finalities. Evolutionary stages are not ends in the traditional sense of being foreordained (MW 4:9-12). After he had moved from his Hegelian to his thoroughly naturalistic stage, he retained the term "teleological," but he discarded the meaning given to it in classical metaphysics. It now meant the adaptive behavior of biological organisms to changing environmental conditions, and he accepted this explanation also in the coordinated activity of human beings. In his 1925 essay, "The Development of American Pragmatism," he acknowledged his debt to James's Principles of Psychology on this point (LW 2:15-16). Ultimately, the only kind of ends that he admitted were "ends-in-view," that is, goals set by human beings through interaction with concrete situations in the environment. This is the logical process of disturbance, reflection or inquiry, selection of a possible solution, and a test of consequences.

In sum, then, it can be seen that Dewey's account of the origin of hypotheses is clouded with the same ambiguity as that of Peirce and James. In fact, the problem is heightened, for Dewey makes more frequent use of vague terms. And though the passages from Human Nature and Conduct add a psychological dimension through the treatment of habit, impulse, and desire in relation to intelligence, they shed no additional light on the main problem of this chapter, namely, that of explaining more fully the nature and origin of hypotheses. It will be the task of the following chap ter to show that a similar ambiguity pervades pragmatic moral theory.

35

PRAGMATIC MORAL THEORY

Pragmatic Moral Theory IN CHAPTER1, AN ATTEMPT WAS MADE to identify the traits that characterized the pragmatism of Peirce, James, and Dewey. It was noted that the task was not an easy one. It is even more diffcult regarding moral theory. Peirce did not develop a moral theory in the usual sense, that is, one directly concerned with actions that are called good or bad, right or wrong. James wrote explicitly on moral theory in only one essay, "The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life," though a moral theory can be constructed from his other writings. Dewey, of course, wrote on the matter at great length. What complicates the issue is that Dewey is often taken to be the main-and sometimes the only-representative of pragmatic moral theory, with its emphasis on scientific method. Consequently, this method has come to be understood as that which is most characteristic of ethical matters. The main aspect of what is called scientific method consists in the fact that the test of any proposition, including ethical ones, is located in its consequences. This is the point of view among contemporary pragmatists, and no one seems to argue about it anymore. They take it pretty much for granted that ethics is scientific, at least to the extent that it is subject to the test of consequences. In a sense, this "given" is understandable. From the very beginning, the test of consequences figured prominently in a theory of ideas, of knowledge, and of truth. Two papers by Peirce, "The Fixation of Belief" and "How to Make Our Ideas Clear," were classic texts that gave the direction which pragmatism was to take, as were James's Pragmatism and The Meaning of Truth. Dewey, too, applied pragmatic method to a theory of knowledge to such an extent that at one point he apologized for the amount of time that he gave to knowledge. His only excuse was the "persistence of the epistemological problem" (MW 10:33). But as we know, he made the crucial step of applying the method to all areas df human life: education, morals, religion, social and political the-

37

ory. Under his influence, then, the test of consequences has become an essential element in moral theory. An added reason for the emphasis on Dewey's theory of consequences is the fact that, as has been mentioned, neither Peirce nor James developed a moral theory "in the usual sense." In any list of pragmatists, then, Dewey would have to be mentioned; and in any discussion of pragmatic moral theory the test of consequences would have to be introduced. Unfortunately, for those outside pragmatic circles, Dewey's insistence on the test of consequences has been understood as a crude form of consequentialism. I would liken this to the criticism of WilliamJames's theory of truth in which, it is asserted, an assertion may be said to be true "if it works," whether or not the position- stated is actually the case. Similarly, Dewey's test of consequences in moral matters has been taken to be the "workability" of the moral claim, whether or not it meets legitimate criteria by which a course action would be judged morally good or bad. In order to understand correctly what Dewey meant by the test of-consequencesin moral matters, it would be well first to set the record straight by examining what in fact he meant by such a test. For those conversant with pragmatism, this will be a familiar story. But it bears repeating in order to make a further point, namely, that pragmatic moral theory, as represented by this view, involves the same characteristics as those attributed in the previous chapter to the origin of hypotheses. In a sense, Dewey's own treatment of moral theory was partly responsible for the charge that he over-emphasized consequences in his moral theory. This comes through especially in a work like his Reconstruction in Philosophy, Chapter VII, "Reconstruction in Moral Conceptions." He began the chapter by a description of what he held to be obvious, namely, the effect made in moral theory by the rise of scientific thinking. The Greeks had been "hypnotized" by the notion that we must search for some supreme final end, good, or law. This gave rise to a diversity of theories, one holding that the end consists in fidelity to a higher power, another in the authority of a secular ruler or institution, still another a sensF of duty. But what was common to all of these was a single and final source of law. On the contrary, his conten-

38


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

tion was that morals must follow the lead of science in rejecting absolute, fixed laws and in opening the way to a belief in a plurality of individualized goods and ends. These are not irrevocably given, but must be sought by intelligence bearing on concrete situations. The first step is thus made toward bringing moral theory into conformity with scientific method. This means primarily that one must follow the pragmatic rule, which is to discover the meaning of an idea ~ i quences. The task of morality is transferred to intelligence;judgment, and choice, precede action. In meeting a situation involving conflicting desires and apparent goods, one must initiate the method of inquiry: observation of the situation, a breakdown into its elements, a clarification of what is unclear, the projection of a solution to resolve the conflict, and the examination of its possible consequences. Once the solution has been reached and tried, the results are tested against the projected solution. In this chapter of the Reconstruction, and in his other writings as well, Dewey repeated and emphasized the scientific aspect of moral theory and the importance of the test of consequences. This, of course, was startling and disturbing to many who held that scientific and moral theories were totally different. What was obscured, or at least not carefully attended to by Dewey's critics, was that, in the judgment regarding the morality of a course of action, the consequences were evaluated according to criteria. If the consequences fulfilled the projected end or goal, the action was morally good; if not, it was morally bad. Once this is understood, the question arises concerning the criteria against which the consequences are judged. This is the most important part of Dewey's description of how moral decisions should be made. Consequently, there are in fact two aspects of pragmatic moral theory. One is the overarching ideal, purpose, destiny that guides moral conduct. It is like a beacon illuminating all human plans and strivings and keeping them focused in the right direction. This aspect I will call looking at the moral situation from the front end. But the other aspect is the test of consequences, principally under Dewey's influence. This I call the back '

c

39

end.' In reality, these two aspects are the same, but are viewed from two different perspectives, since they both guide action and test its validity. Moreover, ideals and purposes share the same characteristics as hypotheses discussed in the previous chapter; as a matter of fact, they are hypotheses. They are also generals, since they are universal guides and criteria that are to be applied to particular instances. I shall pursue the discussion further by ad+suggest that they are due to a form of intuition. Beginning with Peirce, let me explain what I mean by the front end. As already noted, he was not directly concerned with actions that are called good or bad, right or wrong. As he himself confessed, this did engage his attention early in life, but he later came to see that there was a question beyond all questions that had to be asked and answered, namely: What is the good, or what is the reason beyond all other reasons which gives direction to the whole of one's life? (CP 1.577; 2.198). He was looking for the summum bonum, the good in itself, the admirable which needs no justification beyond its own inherent character and which he called "concrete reasonableness" (CP 1.600, 612-13; 5.3). This was a frame of reference, an ideal, which should illuminate the human mind in its search for knowledge of reality and guide the human will in its efforts to achieve the fulfillment of the universe and of the human community. It is, indeed, a grand, all-inclusive vision which gives focus and direction to human thought and action, and in effect it defines the kind of person that each one ought to be. At the risk of making an extreme claim, I would suggest that in this regard there are similarities between Peirce's and James's moral theories. For neither did James view moral theory as directly concerned with actions that are judged to be right or wrong, good or bad. Toward the end of his essay "The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life," he wanted to propose the "most organizable good" and "the richer universe." This would apply not only to individual conduct but to the destiny of all These terms were suggested byJames's use of "front door" and "back door" in relation to sense exerieQceas described in the previous chapter.

40


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

human beings (WB 159-62).2 When he did speak of human action, it was in terms of furthering the ongoing progress of the universe and of fostering the solidarity of all human beings in striving for their mutual welfare. But this was to be done through a belief in God. A world without God would be "a religion of humanity." It would not provide sufficient motivation (WB 150, 160).James's moral theory and its relation to God was developed especially in the final chapter of his Pragmati~m.~ Dewey, too, for all his insistence on the scientific method and the test of consequences, had a vision of an ideal that should animate and guide human thought and action. In Art as Experience, he described the characteristics of a genuine experience. These included a "qualitative background," a "bounding horizon," and "the sense of something that lies beyond"; or again, the "indefinite expanse," and "the sense of the extensive and underlying whole" without which the present moment stands alone and isolated, leading to insanity and madness (LW 10:19699). In A Common Faith, Dewey repeated the same ideas and pushed them further. He stated: [TI h e unification of the self throughout the ceaseless flux of what it does, suffers, and achieves, cannot be attained in terms of itself. The self is always directed toward something beyond itself and so its own unification depends upon the ideal of the integration of the shifting scenes of the world into that imaginative totality we call the Universe [LW 9:14].

His grand vision consisted in the unification of all ideal ends; these arouse us to desire and action and have authority over our volition and emotions (LW 9:29-30). Genuine experience, which he now called religious, binds up every aspect of our lives, "our being in its entirety." The dignity of the human person and the sense of awe and reverence depend upon the realization that human nature can cooperate as part of a larger whole (LW 9:lO). The social aspect of the person is developed more fully in the final chapter of A Common Faith. As a result, the change that is effected in our lives is lasting and endures through all vicissitudes, internal and external (LW 9:12-13). All references to The Will to Believe are included in the text as WB, with page , number. This aspect of James's philosophy will be discussed in Chapter 4.

41

I believe that recent commentators retrieve a dimension of the consequences which needs to be repeated. For example, Richard Bernstein in John Dew9 argued first that, in order to decide what we ought to do, "we want to know in what ways does valuation resemble scientific inq~iry."~ He quoted from Reconstruction in Philosophy, in which Dewey advocated that finding the right course of action, the right good, entails inquiry, observation of the situation, and the test of the adopted solution in terms of the consequences (MW 12:173). Bernstein added that the valuable, as opposed to the valued, follows upon reflection and deliberation. Values are informed and enlightened by deliberation, or again, "[Dewey's] aim is to discover those procedures that provide us with the most enlightened and intelligent values. There is, therefore, a critical or normative aspect of Dewey's discussion of valuat i ~ n . "Bernstein ~ also discussed how desire and impulse, under the control of intelligence, enter into moral judgment. James Gouinlock followed a similar line of development. "For Dewey, ethical discourse does not terminate in prescription or in 'proof' that something is good; rather, it terminates in enlightened con-duct, liberati~n."~ Using shared experience or sympathy as an example, he stated that a basic question has to do with its function in human experience. "What, for example, does sympathy do for your life? What further values does it incorporate into it, and what does it exclude? What sort of society does it presuppose? What sort does it foster? How do we bring sympathy into existence? How can it be guided by intelli~ence?"~ For Gouinlock, then; enlightened, meaningful conduct leads to the richest value, "a consummatory value [which] is enjoyed and cherished simply for its own sake. . . . [It] is not occasion for doubt or inquiry. It is, rather, that for which inquiry takes place. Consummatory experience presents no problems; it is the resolution of problems."* It is, however, open to further criticism and test. RichardJ. Bernstein,John D m q (NewYork: Washington Square Press, 1967), p. 119.

Ibid., pp. 121-22. James Gouinlock, John D m q S Philosophy of Value (New York: Humanities Press, 1972), p. 295. i Ibid. Ibid., p. 300.

42

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

Sandra Rosenthal, in an article on Dewey's value theory, had some fine things to say about Dewey's notion of the developing self, community as moral, creativity, and valuing vs. valuation. She also stressed the experimental method and the consequences. Through selection and purpose, aided by creativity, problematic situations are transformed into meaningful experiences, and the adequacy of the transformation is judged by its workability. Consequently: "In the case of value, intelligent inquiry, as the embodiment of experimental method, moves from a situation filled with problematic valuings to a resolved or meaningful organized experience as the ~aluable."~ In a similar vein, Steven Rockefeller maintained that Dewey's moral philosophy did not seek some a b solute good but "a method for criticizing and reconstructing those desires, goods, and values which have been spontaneously discovered and adopted in the course of experience."1° An action isjudged to be good if it resolves a problem and achieves a h m o nious situation. He claimed that Dewey assumed a "commonsense common purpose" which consists in growth toward the , richest and fullest experience that is possible.ll The above authors wrote within a Deweyan perspective. Others from a wider viewpoint have mined further the rich insights of moral theory. This consists in linking moral theory and the notion of person. For example, John Smith, in his article, "Being and Willing," made the point that willing is both the essential aspect of what it means to be a person as well as the center of morality. He agreed with some modern philosophers in calling a theory of morals "an ethic of self-realization." By this he meant that ethics emphasizes "the actualization of a whole person through the development of individual capacities and talents that at the same time constitute the unique contribution of that person to the welfare of the communities to which he or she belongs."12 The good, Sandra Rosenthal, "The Individual, the Community, and the Reconstruction of Values," in John J. Stuhr, ed., Philosophy and the Recmtmction of Culture: Pragmatic Essays after Dewey (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993), p. 66. lo Steven C. Rockefeller, John Dewey: Religious Faith and Democratic Humanism i (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991), p. 417. l 1 Ibid., p. 420. I2John Smith, "Being and Willing," The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, 1 (1987), 29.


43

then, has a twofold aspect, namely, the fulfillment of the individual and the contribution that one can make to the fulfillment of the members of the human community. Smith also called the good so described a purpose, the choice of a "life plan" such that the dominant purpose or plan of life constitutes what it means to be a person. Particularly fruitful in these descriptions are: the need of some overall meaning, purpose, life plan against which human actions are to be judged as morally good or bad; the person as committed to that life plan which includes not only self-realization, but also the realization of the whole human community; the very meaning of the individual as a person and as a moral person constituted by a relationship to a community; consequently, being and willing as constitutive of what a person is. The stress is on the inherent good that may be found in objects and actions of daily life. All aspects of reality are explored to bring about the goods which are there inviting the free response on the part of the individual. The worth of a moral theory is in its presentation of a good which calls forth the assent of the individual because of its intrinsic goodness. Human beings will then interest themselves in discovering values, in enlarging them, in using human means, especially science, to increase them. Moreover, this approach to ethics is far from the materialistic model which was strongly rejected by pragmatism's early critics. Pragmatism as a philosophy developed largely as a reaction against the mechanistic determinism of the latter part of the nineteenth century. It protested against the tendency of science to remove value and the qualitative aspect from reality and to stress the purely quantitative. In addition, the ideal which it holds up for human beings is a very lofty one. It stresses human fulfillment which on the intellectual level means the growth of intelligence and on the moral level the cultivation of love, friendship, patriotism, loyalty, and other virtues which all cherish. All of this is unified by an altruism which encourages the practice of these virtues for the good of humanity. Now, I wish to ma e it clear that such an approach to knowledge and action is one that I most heartily endorse. It certainly supplies "an ethic of self-realization," a concept that I myself

F

44

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


began developing many years ago in relation to Dewey.13It is not far off the mark to say that in their day the pragmatists took the lead in fleshing out this kind of ethical theory, and especially the meaning of the human person as a willing, purposeful being acting in community with others. Actually, as we have seen, Dewey himself attempted to develop a theory about the meaning of life. "Is life worth living?" was indeed a real and momentous question as much for Dewey as it was for James, and the answer which he proposed and which has already been described is integral not only to his ethics but also to his esthetic and religious theory, as well as to his educational, social, and political philosophy. It seems to be important for the authors cited above, namely, Bernstein, Gouinlock, Rosenthal, Rockefeller, and Smith. So much for the front end of pragmatic moral theory. Let us now look at the back end, the consequences, the effects. This means that after one has formed hypotheses regarding the resolution of a problem, projected a course of action to achieve the goal and has carried it out, one then examines the consequences to see if they in fact fulfill the goal that was intended. The course of action will then be called morally good or bad according to these consequences. The moral judgment based on consequences is not an arbitrary one without direction or guidelines; it depends on intelligent inquiry which begins with a hypothesis and follows a procedure until consequences are reached which are in accord with the original hypothesis. Nonetheless, there is needed a clearer description of how the original ideal is derived and what it entails for a philosophy of person. Dewey sometimes summed it up in a single sentence, as he did in Democracy and Education: "The dominant vocation of all human beings at all times is living-intellectual and moral growth" (MW 9:320) or the common good. At other times, especidy in the Reconstmcction, he enumerated a long list of goods: health, esthetic capacity, friendship, justice, temperance, courage, benevolence, courtesy, learning, patience, enterprise. In this enumeration, his point was that there is no one fixed, absolute good, but a number of goods, depending on the situation. Each t

Roth, John Dew9 and SeZfRealization (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962). l3

45

of the goods enumerated, and others as well, serve as hypotheses at the front end of inquiry directing action, and at the back end as criteria for evaluating the consequences achieved through action. After all this is said, I am now arguing that the pragmatic description of experience as applied to moral theory should be more radical. What it touches upon cautiously and almost covertly should be made more explicit. The ideal that guides moral inquiry is, like any hypothesis, a general and goes beyond specific sense qualities. It can apply without change to any particular set of individual instances, against which these instances can be judged and which is itself a guide and criterion for future instances. Another characteristic of the moral ideal is that it is "self-evident," it needs no further justification; it is either accepted or rejected on its own terms. In other words, some kind of intuition is involved. It is well known that these days it is an anathema to propose intuition. But it seems to me that the argument against it is largely negative. To set the record straight, commentators explicitly remind us yet once again that the theory of knowledge, truth, morality, or whatever-be that theory pragmatic or otherwise--does not, cannot include the negative characteristics inevitably attached to intuition. If the word intuition is used at all in a favorable way, it is usually put in scarequotes to warn the unwary that, of course, one doesn't mean all the no-noes, the horrible implications attached to intuition. Some of these would be the following: a spectator theory of knowledge that introduces the Cartesian dualism between mind and reality, soul and body; principles and ideals drawn up in advance, entirely divorced from reality, dictating irrevocably and dogmatically what reality and action should be in eternum; a world to be discovered "out there," already fixed and settled with the consequent denial of creativity and new possibilities. But once intuition, more or less as I have described it, is rejected, an alternative would seem to be some form of empiricism. As we know well, pragmatists have always been opposed to classical empiricism of the Humean type. This is a familiar story which needs no repetition. Humean empiricism rejects intuition and adheres to a close dependence on sensory experience. This dependence in itself is not objectionable; it is in fact a requirement. The question, however, is whether all think-

46

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

ing, knowledge, or inquiry can begin, proceed, and end on the sensory level, without leaps or gaps. But as a matter of fact, in spite of their cautions about intuition, the pragmatists did employ some version of it. In explaining how the mind generates new hypotheses, Peirce used such terms as some "magical faculty," il l u m naturale, a natural light, a light of nature, instinctive insight, and genius (CP 5:173, 604; 6.476-77; 1.80). It would seem that some such power is at work in forming the ideal of "concrete reasonableness." In "The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life," James rejected bodily pains and pleasures as norms for moral judgments and adopted instead the "directly felt fitnesses between things" and "an innate preference of the more ideal attitude for its own pure sake" (WB 143). In Art as Experience, Dewey stated that the feeling of an unlimited context is mystical and he linked this term with intuition (LW 10:197). Moreover, intense esthetic experience is accompanied by religious experience whereby "we are, as it were, introduced into a world beyond this world which is nevertheless the deeper reality of the world in which we live in our ordinary experience" (LW 10:199). Dewey acknowledged that he could find no psychological explanation of the feeling of being carried out beyond ourselves to find ourselves, save that "somehow" a work of art deepens and clarifies the sense of an enveloping undefined whole that is already present in every real experience (LW 10:199). More recently, John Finnis has developed an approach to value which I would consider to be close to the ohe that I am suggesting. In discussing the basic forms of good or value, he enumerates the following: knowledge, life, play, aesthetic experience, sociability (friendship), practical reasonableness, and religion. All other goods are intimately connected with these. At this stage, he made it clear that he was not dealing with moral goods nor with moral judgments about such goods. This would come later. Putting aside for the moment the validity or completeness of his list of goods, it is illuminating to consider his treatment of knowledge, which was the one that he developed in detail.14The basic proposition was phrased in the following form: "Knowledge is some-, l4John Finnis, Natural Law and Natural Rights (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980), Chapter 111.


47

thing good to have," "Being well-informed and clear-headed is a good way to be," "Muddle and ignorance are to be avoided." He maintained that such a proposition is self-evident and indemonstrable; however, it is not innate, present at birth, for it needs "felt inclinations, memories, understandings, and (in short) experience." It is not a deduction or inference from facts, nor is it derived from some universal principle, such as "all persons desire to know." Finnis then asks if this means something "fishy," implying some kind of "intuition." He answers that it is self-evident that one is better off if well-informed than ignorant, muddled, etc., whether he likes it or not. One cannot play "fast and loose" with it. "I may ignore it or reject it, but again and again it will come to mind, and be implicit in my deliberations and my discourse, catching me out in inconsistency. To avoid it, I have to be arbitrary." It is universal only if one attends to it, and its denial is selfrefuting.I5Finnis assumed that a similar argument could be made for the indemonstrability and selfevidence of the other goods. If this view is correct, then it seems to me that more attention must be given to,the question of intuition in pragmatism's ethical theory and in its other theories as well. This can be done in either of two ways. The first would be to explain how the overarching vision characteristic of the pragmatists can be empiricallyjustified and hence why it has no need of intuition. The other way would be to admit that some form of intuition, purified of its extremely negative connotations, enters into their methodology and to explain its nature more precisely. The late Vincent Potter, S.J., author of several books and numerous articles on Peirce, once suggested in conversation that, since the term intuition conjures up too many derogatory meanings, perhaps a new term might be used, such as "a grasp of intellectual patterns." In any case, something like this may possibly break through the verbal roadblocks and open up new lines of thought.

Before leaving the discussion of pragmatic moral theory, several important matters remain. For one thing, it is interesting to note l5

Ibid., pp. 72-75.

48


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

that in past and current discussions of pragmatic ethics much is said about the value and attractiveness of interpersonal relations, community, and the meaning of persons as interacting with others for the welfare of all. But far less is written about the ought. And yet, moral theory is not merely concerned about what it would be nice to do or what it would be pleasant to do but about what ought to be done or what should be done independent of personal preference. Therefore, in any discussion of moral theory the origin and nature of ought must be addressed. But this raises a prior problem. The insistence of pragmatism on scientific method may lead to the assumption that it separates facts and values or that it raises the is/ought controversy, namely, the problem regarding the move from a factual statement to a normative one, from a statement of what is to a statement of what ought to be. Regarding facts and value, Dewey in his Ethics used a somewhat trivial example. "A person starts to open a window because he feels the need of air-no act could be more 'natural,' more morally indifferent. But he remembers that his associate is an invalid and sensitive to drafts" (LW 9:167). Hence he decides to keep the window closed. From one perspective, it could be said that there are two different interpretations of this example. The one attends only to the fact-a person feels a need to open the window. As Dewey noted, no act could be more morally indifferent. Instead, the individual leaves the window closed. But why? According to Dewey, it is because the act is seen in a larger context of continuity (one could add community) in which the person puts aside personal comfort and respects the needs of another, which are more highly prized. The basic principle which Dewey is enunciating here is that "many acts are done not only without thought of their moral quality but with practically no thought of any kind. Yet these acts are preconditions of other acts having significant value" (LW 7:168). In other words, "while there is no single act which must under all circumstances have conscious moral quality, there is no act, since it is a part of conduct, which must have definitive moral significance" (LW 7:169-'70). What makes the act valuable and moral is the awareness by the agent that the act is part of a larger context. The person who refrains from opening the window sees that deci-

, '

49

sion, not as isolated and suited to personal preference, but rather as situated in a context which includes other people. A concern for others, then, is the original principle or hypothesis that guides the action and allows the consequences to be judged in the light of that principle. In this sense, Dewey could state: "This idea of conduct as a serial whole solves the problem of morally indifferent acts. Every act has potential moral significance, because it is, through its consequences, part of a larger whole of behavior" (LW 7:169). It can be said, then, that for Dewey there is no distinction between facts and value; facts are values, at least potentially. This means, too, that for Dewey the fact as described is not only a value; it is also moral, that is, it is the conduct of a human being who views each act "in a larger context of continuity" in that it has a relation to the needs of other people who deserve respect and consideration beyond personal desires. This in turn supposes all that has been said about the commitment of each individual to strive for the welfare of the entire community of which each one is a member. This raises a further question. Did Dewey's ethical theory end with a notion of value and the moral in the terms that have just been described? Or did he also address the question regarding one's obligation to act in a moral manner? There is ample evidence to say that the latter is true. For him, obligation has as its foundation his overall vision of the growth of the human person through a commitment to the welfare of others. In Human Nature and Conduct, he opposed the position of those who claim that the notion of obligation is founded on "acknowledgment of the supreme authority of Right over all claims of inclination and habit" (MW 14: 223). This is consistent with his repeated rejection of absolutes. Nonetheless he wanted also to reject the idea that conduct should be guided merely by the satisfaction of personal desires. The answer to the question "why be moral" is contingent upon the fact that none of us lives in isolation; we live in interrelationships with other human beings who are affected by our actions. As such, others make demands upon us and we on them, and our actions are thus approved or condemned. A clear statement of this is made when he was discussing the question of right. Why should Qne be moral, that is, why should one acknowledge the rights of others? Dewey responded as follows: "The an-

50

51

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

PRAGhCATIC MORAL THEORY

swer to the question 'Why put your hand in the fire' is the answer of fact. If you do, your hand will be burnt. The answer to the question why acknowledge the right is of the same sort" (MW 14:23-24). If I put my hand into the fire, it will be burnt. If I do not respect the rights of others, something similar will happen. However, the important question here is: What will happen? I will be punished? I will suffer some harm? That would seem to be the conclusion, except for Dewey's next sentence: "For Right is only an abstract name for the multitude of concrete demands in action which others impress upon us and of which we are obliged, if we would live, to take some account" (MW 14: 224). These words, "if we would live," would seem to mean that, if we do not observe the rights of others, we will not live, that is, we will suffer physical harm similar to the burning of the hand. Looked at from another point of view, the text has a deeper meaning. The important word in the sentence is "live." Dewey was not referring to bodily life. He was referring to life in the full sense in which he used the term. For him, life on the human level does not mean mere physical survival. It means growth, expansion of potentialities, satisfaction and fulfillment which come when one unites with the efforts of others for the enrichment of the lives of all. If we do not respect the rights of others, we detach ourselves from our commitment to humanity and betray human nature. This interpretation is by no means a straining of a single text. A similar meaning can be found in other passages. In'Expmbzce and Nature Dewey appealed to one's commitment to "carry the universe forward." He added that "fidelity to the nature to which we belong" makes demands upon us to develop our intelligence in order to make the task possible (LW l:314-15). In the same vein, he ended A Common Faith with a stirring exhortation.

A similar position is taken in Ethics in a section called "The Origin of Moral Claims." Dewey renewed his position that claims are grounded on the continued association and interaction of human beings with one another, whether they be children in relation with their parents, friends with friends, citizens with each other in the organized society of a state (LW 7:218). This leads to the following conclusion: "If we generalize such instances, we reach the conclusion that Right, law, duty, arise from the relations which human beings intimately sustain to one another, and that their authoritative force springs from the very nature of the relation that binds people together" (LW 7:219). Further, one should voluntarily acknowledge the good so that it becomes one's own (LW 7:229); "we ought to be drawn by some object whether we are naturally attracted to it or not" (LW 7:217). On the other hand, wrongdoing is an abandonment of responsibility regarding the community.

The things in civilization we most prize are not of ourselves. They exist by grace of the doings and sufferings of the continuous human community in which we are a link. Ours is the responsibility of conserving, transmitting, rectifying and expanding the heritage of values we have received that those who come after us may receive it more solid and secure, more widely accessible and more generously shared than we have received it [LW 1:57-581.

Wrong consists in faithlessness to that upon which the wrongdoer counts when he is judging and seeking for what is good to him. He betrays the principles upon which he depends; he turns to his personal advantage the very values which he refuses to acknowledge in his own conduct toward others. He contradicts, not as Kant would have it, some abstract law of reason, but the principle of reciprocity when he refuses to extend to others the goods which he seeks for himself [LW 7:230].

Dewey concluded from this that the authoritative force, hence the "ought" contained in right, law, and duty, "springs from the very nature of the relation that binds people together" (LW 7:218-19). In an essay entitled "Intelligence and Morals," this ideal was presented even when Dewey was proposing most strongly a scientific method in ethics (MW 4:48-49). He indicated that it is the very power of his ideal to draw human beings together that must be the basis for any consideration of morals. From this it can be seen that Dewey used the same ideal as a norm for the "ought" as he did for the determination of value. It is quite clear that in determining both value and the ought he appealed to selfrealization which itself needs no justification. It is the overall consequence" to which all actions must lead if they be truly L6

52

53

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


moral and at the same time it will be the ideal from which the ought is derived. In view of the stress that Dewey put on the positive attraction of value and moral conduct, he tended to play down the concept of sanction, whether it be in the form of reward or punishment. The truly moral person is one who does the good because it is a good, not because of possible reward or punishment. Dewey himself was aware, of course, that the sense of duty is necessary to remind one of obligations when in particular situations the individual may be blinded by the temptation to act otherwise. But this should not generally be characteristic of one's responses. "A sense of duty is a weak staffwhen it is not the outcome of a habit formed in wholehearted recognition of the value of the ties involved in concrete cases" (LW 7:233). The stress upon sanction renders morality servile (LW 7226). Dewey felt that the sanction of punishment as a motive for action is practically useless for developing free, responsible people. It is in fact an admission of failure to highlight the value inherent in objects and actions of daily life. One is truly responsible, and hence moral, when one assumes a commitment to an action or to a whole way of life because there is an appreciation of the good inherent in such a commitment. The motivation coming from within the individual is far more efficacious than any that comes from external pressure. Dewey did not eliminate entirely the element of guidance and control. This was especially true in his work on education, where he gave some of his best insights on the matters we have been discussing. The belief that he was for wholesale freedom of expression and action on the part of the young is dispelled by a reading of his Experience and Education, a comparatively late book (1938), in which he gently but firmly criticized some of the excesses of progressive education. But in this work, as he had done many times before, he protested against "the straitjacket and chain gang procedures" of the traditional schoolroom. Young persons should have the freedom and opportunity, not to do anything they please, but to respond to the ideal of individual and social growth. It was with this in mind that in his classic work, Democracy and Education, he had defined discipline as

move to do it promptly and by the use of the requisite means is to be disciplined, whether we are thinking of an army or a mind. Discipline is positive. To cow the spirit, to make a subordinate perform an uncongenial task-these things are or are not disciplinary according as they do or do not tend to the development of power to recognize what one is about and to persistence in accomplishment [MW 9:136].

power at command, mastery of the resources available for carrying through the action undertaken. To know what one is to do and to

What has been said should indicate the positive aspects of pragmatic moral theory and remove the negative connotations associated with the scientific method. Thus, on the one hand it can be seen that there are rich dimensions in pragmatic ethics which are worthy of consideration and of assimilation. They emphasize the free response of the person to the moral good because it is a good. At the same time, while pragmatic moral theory can be called "scientific" since it has recourse to the test of consequences, the consequences themselves have to do with the fulfillment of the person on the highest level. One more point can be made regarding the ought. Earlier in this chapter, a case was made for the intuitive character of establishing the notion of the good. Since this problem is at the very root of the good, it carries over into the description of the ought. For if the good is claimed to be its own justification, it would follow that the same is true of the ought. At one point, Dewey admitted that the idea of right and wrong includes a demand which is outside the idea of the good. Nonetheless, though differing in concept from the good, Dewey claimed that law, obligation, duty, and rigfit are derived from the same relationships that exist between persons. If the good, then, is its own justification, so also is the ought.

',

A further problem arises regarding the force of the moral ought. Is it optional, in the sense that one is obliged only if one chooses to play the moral game? An example would be the game of chess: one must obey the rules, but only if one chooses to play. Or is the ought unconditional in the sense that, though one may be free to choose not to obey it, one may not choose not to be under an

54

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


obligation? Donald Burt took up this matter and tried to give a completely satisfjmg answer to the question: "Why be m ~ r a l ? " ' ~ It is not sufficient, he claimed, to take "the moral point of view," which means that one will keep promises and abide by the rules. For there is no absolute obligation to adopt the moral point of view. Burt is seeking a justification for the universal categorical proposition containing an "ought" that would assert "that every human being has an obligation to fulfill all duties implied in taking the moral point of view and has an unconditional obligation to take the moral point of view."17 Burt introduces the notion of law (no law, no strict obligation), authority, and in the latter the relationship between superiority on the part of the one imposing the obligation and subordination on the part of the one obeying. He examines some possible sources of superiority and subordination which would just19 absolute obligation. One possible source is society, which calls on each individual to participate in attaining its ideals. But this yields only a hypothetical imperative, since there is no reason why one cannot explicitly reject the task if one so chooses. Nor does the complete subordination of the individual to the common good solve the problem, since this would go against individual dignity and would make the power of enforcement the factor which justifies obligation. Burt cites Alexander Sesonke as one who attempted to propose human society as the needed justification. Sesonke, according to Burt, maintains that "the most extensive 'claim' on the individual is that coming from human society itself, calling on each\individual to participate in the task of realizing the human ideal."18 Since we are members of a community and share in its benefits, we are committed, we are obliged, to perform actions that contribute to the welfare of all.19This is similar to Dewey's position, which states that we are by nature social, that we live, grow, and develop as human beings only to the extent that we contribute to

55

the well-being of all. This condition is not of our own choosing but is imposed on us by our nature. Hence we make claims on the actions of others and in turn we are obliged to perform certain actions ourselves. Of course, the obvious rejoinder to this kind of argument, as Burt himself shows, is that we are left with only a set of hypothetical imperatives, such as: "If you accept the task of striving for the human ideal, then you should do x.''~OWhen told about such a moral obligation, one could simply shrug one's shoulders and say: "So what? I don't choose to play the moral game." Sesonke seemed to anticipate this kind of criticism, for he stated regarding his own position: [TIhe best an empiricist theory can offer are probable statements and values grounded in the contingent facts of human needs and aspirations. What then remains is the task of trying to convince doubters such a theory is the only sort warranted by experience, and no other is needed.21

Aspect of the Moral Argument for the Existence of God," Proceedings of theAw7m-i-

A possible response to this could be that the failure to play the moral game, in this case to cooperate with others in achieving the well-being of all members of society, will result in stultifying one's development as a person. Our imagined recalcitrant could simply reply: "If this is indeed true (though it is debatable), then accuse me of stupidity, but not of moral turpitude." The implication is that morality is then equated with intelligence, and we have no strict obligation to be intelligent. It would seem, then, that the derivation of obligation from a commitment& the community, as proposed by Dewey and others, yields only a conditional obligation. Yet the tendency toward an unconditional obligation seems to linger, even among those who explicitly deny it. I was amused in reading a review of a book on Bertrand Russell. The reviewer was Denis Donoghue, Henry James Professor of English and American Letters at New York Univ e r ~ i t yDonoghue .~~ stated that Russell separated ethics from philosophy. He quoted Russell as saying: "The only matter concerned with ethics that I can regard as properly belonging to

can Catholic ~ h i l o s o p h i~ssociatim, ~l 49 (l975), 72-81. l7 Ibid., p. 73. l8 Ibid., p. 77. l9 Alexander Sesonke, Value and Obligation: TheFoundations of an Ethical The09 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964), p. 83.

Burt, "The Problem of Justifying Obligation," 78. Sesonke, Value and Obligation, p. 32. 22 The book was: Caroline Moorehead, Bertrand Russell: A Life (New York: Viking, 1993).

l6

Donald X. Burt, o.s.A., "The Problem of J u s w n g Moral Obligation. An

20

':

56

57

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


philosophy is the argument that ethical propositions should be expressed in the optative mood, not in the indicative." Donoghue noted that, according to Russell, ethics, religion, and politics are "the articulation of a vision, a faith, a desire or a prejudice." A philosopher may speak of these, but "in different tones of voice." The reviewer then added that Russell himself did not use the o p tative mood on religion, marriage, sex, free love, politics, war, nuclear disarmament, economics and education. "He delivered these beliefs with an air of professional confidence, as if he assumed that they would withstand any degree of analysis. Few of them wo~ld."2~ Whether or not this is a faithful rendition of Russell's approach to ethics, it does reflect the way people frequently think about morals. Though they may in general deny or give little consideration to unconditional rights and obligations, they usually do so in their own case. It is difficult to imagine that someone who has been robbed and physically violated without witnesses would accept the attacker's argument to the effect that obligations arising from human relationships are arbitrary and depend for their force on one's acceptance of them. The victim would still claim that the attacker should not have acted in this way, and would be prompted to echo the cry of Henry David Thoreau in his protest against slavery and the war against Mexico. He strongly maintained that the important thing was "that there be some absolute goodness Fjustice] orn new here."^^ The attempt to ground unconditional obligation on the condition of human nature is found even among some Thomisp. I have in mind the work done by Austin F a g ~ t h e yHe . ~ ~was looking for

a justification of moral obligation which, while leaving the person free, is not optional but necessary and absolute,26an "absolutely imperative but noncompulsary necessity."27 Further, obligation is said to be intrinsic to the moral good, where moral good is that which makes a human being good purely and simply as human.28 This ideal, held up to reason and will, demands decision, and the decision is absolute. But in arguing to this position, Fagothey used phrases which may be powelful as exhortations but fall short as philosophical reasons. "I cannot help being a man and absolutely have to succeed as a man"; "in despising the moral good I despise myself. According as I accept or reject the moral good, I rise or fall in my own worth as a man"; "this rise or fall is not something optional; I am not allowed to fall"; "it is not a question of whether I am interested in my own betterment; I am not allowed not to be."29Fagothey established the obligation of natural law by a similar process. Human nature is examined to find the kind of conduct which befits it and which alone can lead to what is good. A human being comes to realize that one cannot renounce rational nature and the -responsibility that goes with it. In all circumstances, a person must maintain human dignity or become intolerable to oneseK30 Jacques Maritain likewise developed an argument for the natural law from an analysis of human nature, though in more measured t o n e d a n those found in Fagothey's work. He maintained that, like other beings in the universe, a person has ends necessarily demanded by nature. In describing the natural law, Maritain stated: "This means that there is, by the very virtue of human nature, an order or a disposition which human reason can discover and according to which the human will must act in order to attune itself to the essential and necessary ends of the human being."31 Moreover, every kind of being in nature "should" act according to its own natural law, "that is, the normality of its func-

Denis Donoghue, The New York Times Book Rmiew, October 31, 1993, p. 7. Henry David Thoreau, "Civil Disobedience," in Brooks Atkinson (ed.), Waldon and Other Writings of Ha9 David Thoreau (New York: The Modem Library, 1950), p. 640. 25 Austin Fagothey, SJ., Right and Reason: Ethics in T h e q and Practice, 6th ed. (St. Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1976). One has to feel uncomfortable about criticizing Fagothey. First, no one has developed Thomistic ethics with more competence and painstaking care than he did. He continually revised his work in order to keep it abreast of contemporary movements. Second, his death in 1975 deprived us not only of a great person but also a first-rate ethician who could respond to such views as my own. The sixth edition of Right and Reason, completed two weeks before his death, bears a fitting In Maoriam by Milton Gonsalves, a colleague of Fagothey at Santa Clara University, California. Though Gonsalves has brought out several more editions of Fagothey's book, I make use of the sixth edition as representing faithfully Fagothey's thought. 23 24

Ibid., p. 54. Ibid., p. 112. 28 Ibid., p. 57. P9 Ibid., pp. 54-55. Ibid., p. 113. 3' Jacques Maritain, Man and the State (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1951), p. 86. Italics added. 26 27

, '\

58

59

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


tioning." The "should" takes on a moral meaning in humans because they are free agents, and natural law becomes moral by reason of freedom and by reason of the superiority of human beings over other things in the cosmos.32 There is a difficulty in these attempts to just* moral obligation. A claim is made to the effect that one can derive necessary and absolute obligation from an examination of the good and/ or human nature. This claim is too strong because the terms used to advance the claim are hortatory rather than philosophically probative, and the move to obligation is too abrupt and seems gratuitous. Moreover, they both conclude rather to the manner in which a human being is to act in order to be intelligent, not moral. I find a similar trend in John Finnis's treatment of moral theory in that he seems to equate the moral with the rational. In discussing various fundamental goods, he insisted that, at that point, he was not speaking of moral goods or judgments. When he came to discuss them, he stated:

projects which can be carried out completely by simply deploying defined means to defined objective. . . . As Rawls says, this first requirement is that we should 'see our life as one whole, the activities of one rational subject spread out in time. Mere temporal position, or distance from the present, is not a reason for favouring one moment over ar~other.'~'

The principles that express the general ends of human life do not acquire what would nowadays be called a 'moral' force until they are brought to bear upon definite ranges of project, disposition, or action, or upon particular projects, disposition, or actions. How they are thus to be brought to bear is the problem for practical reasonableness. 'Ethics', as classically conceived, is simply a recollectively and/or prospectively reflective expression of this problem and of the general lines of solutions which have been thought rtaona able.^^ The emphasis is on the reasonable or rational in making p-actical judgments in concrete situations. Finnis stated further: In its fullest form, therefore, the first requirement of practical reasonableness is what John Rawls calls a rational plan of life. Implicitly or explicitly one must have a harmonious set of purposes and orientations, not as the 'plans' or 'blueprints' of pipedreams, but as effective commitments. . . . It is unreasonable to live merely from moment to moment, following immediate cravings, or just drifting. It is also irrational to devote one's attention exclusively to specific 32

Ibid., p. 87.

3Winnis,Natural Law and Natural Rights, p. 101.

In this passage, Finnisjoins together a life plan and practicaljudgments in carrying out that plan. He also indicates that the basic goods which he has enumerated are not to be taken in isolation, but that all or several may be included in any judgment and action. For example, if a statesman who is also a father does not include in his life plan several goods, for example, truth and friendship, "then he can be properly accused both of irrationality and of stunting or mutilating himself and those in his care."35 In short, the statesman has violated the "moral ought" which is entailed in such relationship^.^^ In the previous sections on ought and unconditional obligation, I have voiced reservations about the attempt made by pragmatists and others to ground them. However, on the positive side it should be said that the appeal to human nature is a step in the right direction. The nature of the human person is the central issue for any discussion of moral theory. Hence a philosophical anthropology should be involved in moral discourse. But there are limitations @ the positions already treated, as I tried to show. Fidelity to human nature taken alone is not sufficient to ground the ought or unconditional obligation. It should be noted that two commentators whom I discussed, Fagothey and Maritain, did go further and found the ultimate source in God. My complaint, however, is that both seemed first to attempt to derive unconditional obligation from the analysis of human nature, though they later bolstered it with the relation to and dependence of person on God. My reservations on this point are twofold. First, I do not think that an analysis of human nature alone is sufficient to sustain unconditional obligation. One would need to elaborate in 34 Ibid., p. 104. The reference to Rawls is: John Rawls, A Themy ofJustice (Carnbridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of the Harvard University Press, 1971), pp.

408-423. 35 Finnis, Natural Law and Natural Rights, p. 106. 36 Ibid., p. 126.

60

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

more detail what one takes human nature to be in all its aspects, including its spiritual nature and relation to and dependence on God. Moreover, the pragmatists again missed the opportunity to consider experience more radically and to discover a deep-seated drive within the human person toward a moral obligation that is not dependent on outward circumstances and a drive to a supramundane source of morality and obligation. All these points will be taken up in the following chapters.

Transcendence THETERM

"TRANSCENDENCE" admits a plurality of meanings. It includes the notion of interaction used by the pragmatists to describe the meaning of experience, inquiry, belief, knowledge. From this perspective, the subject is not locked up inside the mind, passively peering out at reality (the "spectator theory" of knowledge), but is an agent who goes outside self and becomes actively engaged with the surrounding environment. Moral value entails not merely a judgment made by a person about whether certain courses of action are right or wrong; it is a responsible commitment to act or to refrain from acting in particular ways toward objects and especially persons. A third meaning would be that attributed to a deity who is said to surpass humans and upon whom they are essentially dependent. As a beginning, and as a counterpoint to the issues discussed in the two preceding chapters, transcendence will be used on two levels: (1) the cognitional, which deals with generating new hypotheses in problematic situations, and (2) the moral, which addresses moral values and ideals. It should be noted, however, that in distinguishing the cognitional and moral levels, I do not intend to separate experience into two kinds. Experience as I am describing it, and indeed ascribing it to the pragmatists, is one experience in which two dimensions can be discerned. But it is one and the same experience that is being examined. In any case, it has been argued that the analysis made by the pragmatists on the cognitional and moral levels did not go far enough and that their insights can be extended further. An attempt will now be made to suggest the amendments to be made by one who wishes to remain within the pragmatic tradition. This attempt may raise some nervous issues which could alienate those who would claim that the amendments being proposed are incompatible with pragmatism in any form. The only response which I have at the moment is to repeat Peirce's plea that we do not "block the road to

62

6:

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

inquiry," that we consider the possibility of new dimensions to conventional pragmatic wisdom by a more radical, reflective consideration of experience. I would also add that what is being presented is not held to be absolutely certain corrections to pragmatism but reasonable explanationswhich, in true pragmatic fashion, should be considered for whatever merit they may have.

he called "back-door" experience. Under this heading, anc against "the modern mechanico-physical philosophy," he in cluded metaphysical, aesthetic, and ethical systems. Regarding the judgments of natural and pure science, James had a leaning toward calling them intuitive, innate, a pn'on' bodies of truth, ex cept for the general opposition to the use of these terms. He wen1 no further in explaining the nature of this ability, although, like Peirce, he attributed its origin to evolution. In Dewey's explanation of the origin of hypotheses, the elements of an experience that has lost its equilibrium and has become disoriented are already striving toward a "re-formation of the whole and to a restatement of the parts." There is, of course, the need for an examination of the facts and an identification of the problem. But then there is the advent of "intuition," in which there is a meeting of old and new, a quick and unexpected harmony or revelation "when old and newjump together, like sparks when the poles are adjusted." The flash of new ideas is due to the non-logical "workings of the psycho-physical organism," though he gave no further information as to what that process might be. Now, all this leads to some further reflections. It seems to me that James put his finger on the key issue underlying the attempts of all three pragmatists to generate new hypotheses. His point was that the proposed solution to a problem was not an individual judgment referring to a single situation but a law that was applicable to all sisilar situations. The reason for this is that the ideas or meanings embraced by such judgments transcend space-time relations that are characteristic of particular sense objects or situations. They do not contain within their connotation particular sense qualities. As a result they can, without change, denote an indefinite number of individuals of the same class. A similar analysis is possible regarding Peirce's theory of abduction. He did not mean that the hypothesis was limited merely to an individual case. The judgment that "a diamond will scratch glass" did not refer only to this particular specimen. It meant to express a general, a law, that is, the judgment that ifthe diamond is pressed against the glass, it will scratch it, not just once with this diamond or this piece of glass of such and such size, shape, etc., but with all pieces of glass under similar conditions. Though not as explicit, a similar pattern can be detected in Dewey, especially in his Logic: The The-

In order to focus sharply on the points at issue on the cognitional level, it would be helpful to recall briefly the difficulties that were raised regarding the development of hypotheses concerning matters of fact. Peirce claimed that the move in abduction was from experience to hypothesis, exceeding "the general powers of reason," as though we were in possession of facts "entirely beyond the reach of our senses." He called the faculty some kind of insight or instinct that "flashes the new suggestion before our contemplation." He linked its origin with evolution, but he did not explain precisely the nature of that faculty. James spoke of psychogenesis, which was the attempt "to ascertain just how far the connections of things in the outward environment can account for our tendency to think of, and to react upon, certain things in certain ways and in no other, even though personally we have had of the things in question no experience, or almost no experience, at all" (PP 1215). We form types of judgments which are not attributable to experience "in the ordinary sense," and here he meant sense experience of the "front door" kind. Such judgments are found for the most part in science, which has to do with the selection, generaliziition, and classification of objects, and with logic and mathematics. They are not explainable in terms of mere space-time relationships, they do not immediately mirror reality, but they are applicable to it. He expressed "no doubt" that the mind has possession of "necessary and eternal relations" between certain of its concepts, forming a determinate abstract system of laws not due to the frequency with which the original conceptions have been associated in spacetime relations, though they are influenced by funded e x p e r i e p or the exposure to sensible things and by habit and memory. This

64

65

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

oq of Inquiry. When through inquiry a solution is found by which equilibrium is restored to an experience that had become disoriented, the solution does not apply merely to this situation but to all similar situations. The tension of doubt is relieved and a state of belief is achieved which he calls "warranted assertability" or knowledge. It becomes normative or regulative under like conditions (LW l2:14-17). The question now is: How can this process of forming universals, generals, laws be explained?As already noted, James wrestled with this problem and its relation to sense experience. He devised his distinction between frontdoor or ordinary sense experience and backdoor experience. The latter transcends ordinary experience because it goes beyond the limits of sense data. The general laws transcend particular space-time relations that are characteristic of sense experience. It is precisely because of this that the laws can without change apply to an indefinite number of particular cases. To use the example of a concept, if the idea of a tree contained the particular quality of being green, it would not be applicable to trees that are not green in winter or to trees that are not green at any time. If the judgment that a diamond will scratch a piece of glass prescribed that the former be one carat and the latter four by five inches in size, it would not apply in all cases. In short, then, the concept, the meaning, the general, the law contains no sensible, material qualities or space-time relations, nor can it be apprehended by a sense faculty or sense imagination that are themselves limited in the same way. What is one to conclude from all this? It would seem to suggest that the human knower has an ability to transcend the limitations of sense and does in fact transcend them. To bring it out into the open, it leads to a nonsensible, immaterial, $piritual ability and nature that are beyond the senses. Peirce spoke of some kind of natural light or insight "into the Thirdnesses, the general elements of Nature." It occurs in a flash, in a manner surpassing the usual powers of reason and gives the impression that we possess facts beyond the range of the senses.James was even more explicit in claiming that the necessary and eternal relations and the abstract system of laws transcend space-time relations. Dewey concentrated more on the dynamic, operational character of the process by which solutions are reached, and the fact that they

flash upon us or pop into our heads. But it is clear that for him these solutions are general, applying to various instances that may differ in their sensible qualities and space-time relationships. It is also evident that they are regulative and normative. Without these characteristics, belief or warranted assertibility would be impossible. Surely one can postulate the need of evolutionary processes in order that the ability to form generals may come to fruition. But there remains the problem of explaining it in terms of a sense faculty or sense imagination. The power indicated transcends physical, chemical, biological, physiological, or psychological factors, as important and even necessary as these may be. But in humans this power is unique and indicates that it is beyond powers found in the known universe. In discussing the process by which the mind arrives at generals or universals, I have called that process "intuition." But anyone familiar with the AristotelianThomistic tradition will recognize it as similar to "abstraction," by which the intellect grasps universal ideas or meanings that are common to particular sense objects of a given class. Yet I have opted for the term "intuition." I have done so because the pragmatists themselves used the same term or similar ones, that is, intuition, insight, a natural light, or a light of nature, even though at times they hedged it about with conditions and demurrers. My own usage is in accord with my intention to probe more radically into the procedure by which the pragmatists arrived at generals and to exteiid the use which they made of it. One may ask if this is any less "reasonable" or more "obscurantist" than such terms as "flashes," "pops into one's head," or imaginative projections." These latter do not contain all that 6c

must be explained. There is need of "something more." Why not let the mind go and follow experience where it leads? It may not in fact supply a complete explanation. But if all this transcends sense objects and sensory formulations, it is reasonable to conclude that there is in the human being an immaterial component capable of forming meanings which transcend the concrete individual conditions of material objects. This, of course, will hardly be acceptable to the naturalistic pragmatist. But it could accomplish two things. It could show to one open to such a suggestion that pragmatism is not only not

66

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

closed to a spiritual view of the human person but, if followed carefully and pursued faithfully, gives good reason for holding it. I would hope, too, that the naturalist would be prompted to examine more closely what I take to be the authentic position of the three classical pragmatists and then to explain more carefully than has been done so far how experience as developed by them can accomplish what is claimed for it on the cognitional level as I have described it. There are several further aspects of the matter which need to be considered, since they are frequently raised as objections to a spiritualistic position. The first is the reliance on concrete facts. More generally, it was a leading reason why the pragmatists rejected all forms of idealism, since the latter formed principles without due regard for concrete situations. As a result, reality had to conform to principles, rather than the other way around. Dewey was right in insisting that the formation of new hypotheses is not "an act of pure intellect in apprehending rational truth." Peirce noted that "the stimulus to guessing, the hint of the conjecture was derived from experience. The order of the march of suggestion in retroduction is from experience to hypothesis" (CP 2.755). James, too, for all his openness to backdoor experience or the surpassing of space-time relations, nonetheless insisted on the need of exposure to sense objects. ~ttkntionhas already been given to his Pragmatism, where he developed the need of "funded experience" or older truths in the formation of new hypotheses. Dewey developed at even greater length the conditions for arriving at new solutions. These conditions included direct contact with the concrete problem, the gathering of facts, and the psychological processes that are involved, such as habit, impulse, and desire. All these constitute valuable contributions to the process of inquiry. Rather than opposing a spiritualistic viewpoint, the need of close attention to the facts is a necessary condition for the development of generals. Another aspect of the pragmatists' formation of new hypotheses is their insistence that they are tentative, always subject to test. They can be retained, modified, or rejected in the light of new experience. For Peirce, the hypothesis is problematical or conjectural, subject to inductive verification. James gave a hierarchy of propositions that are formed through backdoor experiencei In

TRANSCENDENCE

67

descending order from strongest to weakest, they are metaphysical axioms, such as "whatever is in the effect must be in the cause," and scientific, aesthetic, and moral principles. Scientific principles can be more readily and successfully applied to concrete situations than aesthetic and moral. Nonetheless, the challenge of further experiment can never be disregarded, though repeated successes "give hope of ultimate victory." This should encourage the other disciplines to take heart and to continue their search for more reliable results. Dewey's position is too well known to require detailed analysis. The process of inquiry terminates in a hypothesis which ends doubt but which is also subject to further test. And this applies also to moral and religious matters. For all three pragmatists, then, inquiry ends in belief or knowledge, again a hypothetical position which stands only as long as there is no good reason to doubt it. The question now is: How does the hypothetical character of new solutions and the possibility of their being wrong affect the spiritualist position as described? Regarding matters of fact, not at all. Even though fallible and hence subject to error, the hypothesis, the belief in all these cases, is a general that prescinds or abstracts from space-time relations and is applicable, even if tentatively, to all situations of a like kind. Precisely because it does not contain within its meaning the particular sense qualities that characterize individual objects, it is nonsensible or immaterial. In other words, the characteristics of being tentative and corrigible and of being nonspatial and nontemporal do not exclude one another. They can, and in matters of fact must, subsist together. What has been said so far affects the nontemporal, nonmaterial nature of hypotheses after they have been formed. Something should be said about the manner in which they are formed. The pragmatists spoke of some kind of leap beyond the sense data. In my view, there is something most original and illuminating about Dewey's explanation. It is the terms "dynamic" and "operational" which he used to describe the elements of the problematic situation. For him, logic was intelligence, inquiry, the thought process of achieving the reconstruction and development of an experience which had passed from a state of equilibrium to disequilibrium. The elements are disoriented, in tension, in conflict. But even before the formal process of inquiry begins, they are

68

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

also dynamic, striving "to a re-formation of the whole and to a restatement of the parts" (MW 2:329). This process has already been described in a previous chapter. The following text, though dealing with a process that involves a lengthy series of operations, reports what occurs in any problematic situation.

not engage his attention, and he was not satisfied until he had addressed it and offered his considered and informed opinion. Even then he was not satisfied, for he realized that the end of his inquiry was an opinion, a hypothesis which was ever open to further examination and inquiry. This drive to understand has been addressed by Bernard Lonergan, a philosopher and theologian from a background very different from Dewey's, and yet similarities can be detected. Lonergan treats the drive within the larger context of "insight," which is a general explanation of how the human mind arrives at the solution of concrete problems. Insight is a sudden and unexpected release to the tension of inquiry. But it is prepared for by contact with concrete data and a problem to be solved. "Deep within us all, emergent when the noise of other appetites is stilled, there is a drive to know, to understand, to see why, to discover the reason, to find the cause, to e~plain."~ He calls this the unrestricted drive to know, and it leads to an act of understanding by which the problem is clarified, to a projected solution, and to critical inquiry into the solution of the problem. He describes the drive as follows:

Some observed facts point to an idea that stands for a possible solution. This idea evokes more observations. Some of the newly observed facts link up with those previously observed and are such as to rule out other observed things with respect to their evidential function. The new order of facts suggests a modified idea (or hypothesis) which occasions new observations whose result again determines a new order of facts, and so on until the existing order is both unified and complete [LW 121171.

This text, and others already cited, show that for Dewey there is a lively interchange between facts and ideas. Both are dynamic or operational, they are not statically facing each other but are actively striving for a "reconstruction of experience," even before the process of inquiry begins. If this be the case, it would seem that mind and nature are in tune with one another, both directed toward a common purpose. It is well known, of course, that Dewey strenuously resisted the introduction of any kind of finality into nature. This position was the result of his rejection of idealism and his espousal of a Darwinian theory of evolution. The only kinds of ends he accepted were ends-in-view, that is, ends projected by the human organism. Yet his account of the interchange between the mind and environment seems to suggest some kind of dynamic direction in both prior to the formal process of inquiry. In another place, I have called this "the 'onward thrust' of experience and nature."' At the very least, Dewey emphasized the drive of the mind to belief and knowledge through the process of inquiry. He followed Peirce in looking upon doubt as an "irritation" which unsettled the mind and prompted it to seek satisfaction by resolving the doubt. He felt the need of allowing his mind to range over wide areas of human interest, as the vast amount of his writings indicates. There was almost no area of human knowledge that did 1

Roth,John Dmty and Self-Realization,pp. 134-39. I

69

Man wants to understand completely. As the desire to understand is the oppositebf total obscurantism, so the unrestricted desire to understand is the opposite of any and every partial obscurantism no matter how slight. The rejection of total obscurantism is the demand that some questions, at least, are not to be met with an arbitrary exclamation, Let's forget it. The rejection of any and every partial obscurantism is the demand that no question whatever is to be met arbitrarily, that every question is to be submitted to the process of intelligent grasp and critical reflection. Negatively, then, the unrestricted desire excludes the unintelligent and uncritical rejection of any question, and positively the unrestricted desire demands the intelligent and critical handling of every questi~n.~

Intelligent grasp of the situation, inquiry, and critical reflection are called "transcendental" because they are not confined to parBernard J. F. Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (New York: Harper & Row, 1978), p. 4. Ibid., p. 638. For a fine comparison of Dewey and Lonergan, see Robert 0. Johann, "Lonergan and Dewey on Judgment," International Philosophical Quarterly, 11 (1971), 461-74.

71

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

ticular subject matter; they precede active intelligent inquiry and are conditions for it.

the daily task of your vocation is performed, but a generalized conception of duty that completes your personality by melting it with the neighboring parts of the universal cosmos [CP 1.6731.

70

They are the radical intending that moves us from ignorance to knowledge. They are a priori because they go beyond what we know to seek what we do not know yet. They are unrestricted because answers are never complete and so only give rise to still further questions. They are comprehensive, because they intend the unknown whole or totality of which our answers reveal only part. So intelligence takes us beyond experiencing to ask what and why and how and what for.4 With few exceptions, the above texts from Lonergan could be ascribed to Dewey. Both emphasize the wide-ranging search of the mind for knowledge, the need to begin with concrete experience, control of the relevant facts in the situation that is being examined, the proposed hypothesis, and the ongoing process of verification. Where they would part company, of course, is Lonergan's position that the universal understanding of material facts is "immaterial but of the material, non-temporal but of the temporal, non-spatial but of the ~patial."~ It abstracts from the material residue and for this reason can be applied to the many. It thus advances our knowledge of the universe. Peirce's desire to know is familiar enough. He was more deeply grounded in the physical sciences than James or Dewey and he spent long hours in the laboratory. But he distinguished the physical sciences from philosophy. The latter uses "those universal experiences which confront every man in every working hour of his life" (CP 1.246). Nonetheless, the two were combined in the scientific philosopher, the philosopher who thinks with exactitude. Such a person has "a passion to learn," a love of truth, and the drive to discover it (CP 1. 43), with a sentiment or drive to recognize that the very first command that is laid upon you, your quite highest business and duty, becomes, as everybody knows, to recognize a higher business than your business, not merely an avocation after Bernard J. F. Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: The Seabury Press, 1972), p. 11. Lonergan, Insight, p. 645.

In philosophy's attempt to understand, "it is committed to the assumption that things are intelligible, that the process of nature and the process of reason are one" (CP 6.581). There is, then, a connaturality between the mind and nature such that "nature fecundates the mind of man with ideas which, when those ideas grow up, will resemble their father, Nature" (CP 6.591). Moreover, he assumed that the process of mind and nature was a universal ongoing affair; it does not reach an actual end point, otherwise "movement would stop and the principle of movement would not be universal" (CP 6.581). The same drive is seen in Peirce's treatment of ethics. For him, ethics was not primarily concerned with right or wrong.6 "The fundamental problem of ethics is not, therefore, What is right, but, What am I prepared deliberately to accept as the statement of what I want to do, what am I to aim at, what am I after? To what is the force of my will to be directed?" (CP 2.198). He was seeking the answer to the question beyond all questions, the question that must be anbwered before the answers to other questions made sense. But he was seeking also the answer to questions that one meets along the way, either in the physical sciences or in ordinary life. He described the process of arriving at a hypothesis as a sudden revelation which flashes upon the mind and which he did not hesitate to call insight. The process is a logical one because the hypothesis is subject to critical inquiry and test. But it is also a general, a law; in the real order it is a power not only in this particular object at this particular time, but a power in all like objects in similar circumstances causing them to act in regular ways. Consequently, the human mind forms beliefs and habits of action. In this he was more explicit than Dewey. In this matter, it is not easy to find in James point by point comparisons with Peirce and Dewey. Certainly he exhibited a similar passion for knowledge on all levels. He was reluctant to define philosophy, but in a manuscript published posthumously, he described it as follows: For a fuller treatment of Peirce's ethical theory, see my British Empin'cism and Amen'can Pragmatism (New York: Fordham University Press, 1993), pp. 36-46.

73

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

Limited by the omission of the special sciences, the name of philosophy has come more and more to denote ideas of universal scope exclusively. The principles of explanation that underlie all things without exception, the elements common to gods and men and animals and stones, the first whence and the last whither of the whole cosmic procession, the conditions of all knowing, and the most general rules of human action-these furnish the problems commonly deemed philosophy par excellence; and the philosopher is the man who finds the most to say about them. . . . That explanation of the universe at large, not description of its details, is what philosophy must aim at; and so it happens that a view of anything is termed philosophic just in proportion as it is broad and connected with other views, and as it uses principles not proximate, or intermediate, but ultimate and all-embracing, to justify itself. . . . An intellectualized attitude towards life.'

the ability of the mind to transcend the spatio-temporalaspects of ordinary sense experience. On the moral level, there is a similar process. There is a thrust of experience and nature beyond the present to the formation of a general purpose, an overarching goal which gives meaning and value to one's whole life and therefore to each individual experience. Previously I have called this the front end of the moral situation. In the three pragmatists, one sees a confidence that contact with reality can fulfill one's highest expectations. There is operative a dynamism of the mind and nature beyond the limitations of particular experiences that is capable of stretching beyond the present moment and of forming general ideals that lead to consummation and satisfaction. The pragmatists, each in his own way, explored the rich possibilities of experience extending beyond the present moment to a meaning that makes individual experiences worthwhile. Peirce was looking for concrete reasonableness, the summum bonum, the answer to the question beyond all questions, the question that must be answered before the answers to all other questions make sense. For James, it was "the organizable good." For Dewey it was the ideal that included "the world beyond this world which is nevertheless the deeper ~ a l i t of y the world in which we live in ordinary experience" (LW 10:199). It sustains the individual in spite of all adverse circumstances. In their minds, it was the ideal which provides direction to the whole of one's l i e and to one's individual commitments and actions. For each of them the overarching ideal was associated with a commitment to advance the fulfillment of the individual by uniting with the efforts of others. In this regard, all persons cooperate in a common dedication to the enrichment and fulfillment of all. The back end, the consequences, of the moral situation was seen to have the same characteristics. Like the hypotheses in logical inquiry, the ideals in moral theory so envisioned are general, prescinding from, rising beyond individual objects and particular sense qualities-beyond, too, the capabilities of the senses or the imagination. They are, in short, immaterial and indicate a power and nature in the person that are themselves immaterial or spiritual. Finally, the test of consequences reaches an ideal which itself need not-indeed, cannot-be further justified. It, too, ends in an ideal or purpose which is its own justification. I have argued

Philosophy in the full sense is "man thinking," probing, searching for the meaning behind the ordinary objects and events in the universe. In the process, "he observes, discriminates, generalizes, classifies, looks for causes, traces analogies, and makes hypothe~ e s . "These ~ texts, and the array of problems that James addressed, show that he was at one with Peirce and Dewey in his passion for truth. James has little to say regarding the manner in which hypotheses enter into the mind, except to compare the genesis of scientific conceptions to "flashes of poetry and sallies of wit." Judgments regarding the difference between black and white pop into our heads merely by thinking of them. He was tempted to call these sciences "intuitive," "innate," or "apori," but these terms were in such bad repute that he refrained from doing so. Nonetheless, his description of back-door experience clearly indicates that the mind's grasp of the necessary and eternal relations of natural and pure sciences breaks through the limits of sense qualities and sense objects.

Much of what was said about the cognitional level can be applied also to the moral level. In the former, the common element was William James, Some Problems of Philosophy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979), p. 10. Ibid., p. 14.

74

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

that the pragmatists in fact assumed a self-justlfylng ideal. They seemed to suppose that it needed no justification; it is self-evident, If this is the case, the ideal is a pm'ori, not in the sense of being full-blown at birth and needing nothing else for its development. Rather, the ability to generate a unlfying ideal, though innate, needs contact with ordinary sense objects. The ideal itself, however, is indeed intuitive, not in the discarded, "outmoded" meaning, but in the sense that it is due to a power beyond the sensible, akin to the abstractive, nonsensible, immaterial power of the mind in forming universals, generals, laws.

One meaning of transcendence mentioned at the beginning of this chapter was the existence of a deity who surpasses human beings and upon whom they essentially depend. The question now is: Does transcendence as described above in any way point to a deity? We know, of course, that Peirce and James believed in a God, while Dewey did not. Their arguments are complex and will not be repeated in detail.g Instead I would like to consider what has been said about transcendence on the cognitional and moral levels in order to see how far it can be extended. Has it the capacity to make a reasonable case for a belief in a deity at the end of the dynamic drive to know and to form overarching purposes? It should be made clear, however, that the term "transcendental" as here used does not entail the complete separation of God and the world as it was understood and decisively rejected by the pragmatists. In the next chapter it will be shown in what sense a deity, though transcendent, can also be conceived as immanent in the world and especially in human experience and action. 9For a fuller treatment, see the following: Robert J. Roth, sj., "Is Peirce's Pragmatism Antijarnesian?", Intmational Philosophical earterly, 5 (1965), 541-63 and "The Religious Philosophy of William James," Thought, 41 (1966), 249-81; John E. Smith, Experience and God (New York: Oxford University Press, 1968; rpt. New York: Fordham University Press, 1995) and Purpose and Thought: The Meaning of Pragmatism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1978), Chap. 6; Donna Orange, Peirce's Conception of God: A Developmental Study (Lubbock, Tex.: Institute for Studies in Pragmatism, 1984); Steven C. Rockefeller, John Dewey: Religious Faith and Democratic Humanism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991).

TRANSCENDENCE

75

In the following discussion, attention will be given to the dynamism of experience to know and to form overall purposes. How far does this drive extend? Is it limited or open-ended? Need one suppose that "out there" stands a limiting point where nothing more can be learned or desired? If limited, then by what or by whom? Why not form the hypothesis, if one wishes to call it such, that the drive is limitless, open to the super-human, to one who contains the source of truth and knowledge, who is tntth itself, and to a being that is capable of satisfying all the hopes and aspirations of the drive to complete fulfillment? It is to be expected that a thoroughgoing naturalist will say (a priori ?) that such a being is impossible, while the spiritualist will be open (again a @'on?) to such a possibility. Objectively (if objectivity is possible on an issue such as this), the case will have to rest on the evidence. At the beginning of this volume, I stated that I was writing for those who, like myself, come from another philosophical tradition, but who are open to pragmatism and are interested in seeing if it could be assimilated into their own position. But I also have in mind those who are naturalistic pragmatists and whom I wish to invite to reexamine their own suppositions. To do this, I continually go b ~ c kto what the three pragmatists had to say. But I am less interested in "proving" that they have gone as far as I myself would like to go. Much more interesting is the question as to whether their meaning of experience has the potential to be extended in the manner which I am describing, whether or not they themselves went that far. As I hope to show, they went further than is often acknowledged. In a way that varied with each of the pragmatists, their religious background had an influence on their notion of God and religion. Peirce was a member of the Episcopal Church, although his father, whom he deeply admired, was a devoted Unitarian. As a young man, he was bothered by "the angry squabbles" between the Unitarians and Calvinists, and finally he was repelled by the negative aspects of the latter.1°Joseph Brent states that Peirce "expressed contempt for the theologies, metaphysics, and practices of established religions."ll This judgment is a bit harsh, though lo Murray G. Murphey, The Development of Peirce's Philosophy (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1961), p. 66. 'l Joseph Brent, CharZes Sanders Peirce: A Lye (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993), p. 18.

76

7

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

he was critical of religion as he knew it. In 1893, in an article for The Open Court entitled "The Marriage of Religion and Science" (CP 6.428-48), he tried to reconcile the two. A dictionary definition of science would be "systematized knowledge." This, however, would seem to restrict it to "dead memory," whereas in fact science is "a living and growing body of truth." Essential is a "scientific spirit" which does not stop at opinions but pushes on to real truth (CP 6.429). Religion, on the other hand, is "a deep recognition of a something in the circumambient All, which, if [each individual] strives to express it, will clothe itself in forms more or less extravagant, more or less accidental, but ever acknowledging the first and last, . . . as well as the relation to that Absolute of the individual's self, as a relative being" (CP 6.429). In a critical vein, Peirce added that science, as it grows, becomes more perfect, while religion, in the face of the challenges of science, has lost its progressive spirit and has become wilted and faded. Science looks forward, while religion tends to look backward. As a result, there has arisen a hostility between the two (CP 6.430-31). Moreover, he points out that religion turns in upon itself in a disputatious manner.

that the universe is intelligible and that the mind is attuned ct understand it. In considering the hypothesis of God, he contern plated "the physico-psychical universe" which includes the vas complexity of the heavenly bodies, the extraordinary instincts o the lower animals, and the wonder of human intelligence. Wha he felt to be especially impressive was the universe of mind, whicl coincides with the universe of matter. As one engages in thesc considerations,

Then, after a religion has become a public affair, quarrels arise, to settle which watchwords are drawn up. This business gets into the hands of theologians; and the ideas of theologians always appreciably differ from those of the universal church. They swamp religion in fallacious logical disputations. Thus, the natural tendency is to the continual drawing tighter and tighter of the narrowing bounds of doctrine, with less and less attention to the living essence of religion, until, after some symbolum quodcumque has declared that the salvation of each individual absolutely and almost exclusively depends upon his entertaining a correct metaphysics of the godhead, the vital spark of inspiration becomes finally extinct [CP 6.4381. -

Nonetheless, Peirce continually argued for a belief in God. It stemmed from his desire to explain the drive for esthetic appreciation, for intelligibility, and for growth in conduct.12Peirce held l2 My concern in this discussion will be, first, the drive for intelligibility and then for growth in conduct. Though the drive for esthetic appreciation was important for Peirce, it will not be treated. 4

the idea of there being a God over it all of course will be often suggested; and the more he considers it, the more he will be enwrapt with Love of this idea. He will ask himselfwhether or not there really is a God. If he allows instinct to speak, and searches his own heart, he will at length find that he cannot help believing it. I cannot tell how every man will think. . . . But I can tell how a man must think if he is a pragmatist [CP 6.5011.

\

This text should be read in connection with his paper "The Doc, trine of Necessity Examined," in which he tried to stake out 2 middle ground between absolute chance and rigid determinism (CP 6:35-65). There were certain aspects of the universe whick "mechanical philosophy," as he called it, could not explain These included: pure spontaneity or life, which, though con. strained by the narrow bounds of law, departed from these law: in infinitesimal ways continually and in large ones with infinite infrequency; the phenomenon of growth and developing complexity; the regular relationships between the laws of nature; and finally, consciousness (CP 6.59, 64). These texts, then, taken to. gether, give the reasons why Peirce was led to a belief in God. 11 still remains to be seen how he justified this belief pragmatically. In Chapter 2, Peirce's evolutionary theory was discussed in relation to abduction and the origin of hypotheses. It is appropriate now to link it with his theory of reason, concrete reasonableness, the summum bonum, teleology, and God. This is a tall order and would require a volume in itself. Donna Orange has made an admirable move in this direction and covers the material which I am ~liscussing.~~ Orange shows that between 1887 and 1900 Peirce developed his "evolutionary cosmology" in which God is the end l3 Orange, Pa'rce's Conception of God. See my review, International Philosophical Quarterh, 25 (1985), 213-15.

78

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

of the evolutionary process; between 1900 and 1914 he drew out his full theory of God.14Though my own purpose is different, it is heavily influenced by Orange's volume.15 Peirce attempted to explain "what Reason, as well as we can conceive it, really is" (CP 1.615).He was not speaking of a faculty of Reason, or nous, as something in the mind. Rather, the very being of Reason or the General is its governing events by law. A simple example, that a stone is hard, means that every attempt to scratch its surface "by the moderate pressure of a knife" will fail and that one can predict this occurrence every time it is tried. It will happen time and time again; it will fulfill conditional predictions that can never be completely exhausted. "So, then, the essence of Reason is such that its being never can have been completely perfected. It always must be in a state of incipiency, of growth." Hence, the working out of general laws in the universe on all levels he called Reason or "concrete reasonableness," and it is wider than any number of individual events that can ever actually take place (CP 5.3). This is also an expression of his Synechism, which "is founded on the notion that the coalescence, the becoming continuous, the becoming governed by laws, the becoming instinct with general ideas, are but phases of one and the same process of the growth of reasonableness" (CP 5.4). Concrete reasonableness is linked with the summum bonum. This connection was made in places where Peirce was denying that a person's highest good consists in action. This is a "stoical maxim which, to the present writer at the age of sixty, does not recommend itself so forcibly as it did at thirty." Since action is directed toward an end, "the only ultimate good which the practical facts to which it directs attention can be subserved is to further the development of concrete reasonableness" (CP 5.3. See also 5.121). Again, in a section on "Pragmaticism" which is in the form of a dialogue, the Questioner maintained that doing is the

be-all and end-all of human life (CP 5.429). Peirce vigorously denied this: "the pragrnaticist does not make the summum bonum to consist in action, but makes it consist in that process of evolution whereby the existent comes more and more to embody those generals which were just now said to be destined, which is what we strive to express in calling them reasonable" (CP 5.433. See also 5.4). The destiny, the summum bonum of evolution is concrete reasonableness or the development of generals or laws in the universe. Peirce linked this with the ethical ideal of human action which is to cooperate with evolution in achieving concrete reasonableness.16 It may be said that, in this regard, evolution has become "conscious of itself."" Evolution, teleology, and God come together in other texts. "The universe is a vast representamen, a great symbol of God's purpose, working out its conclusions in living realities" (CP 5.119). For Peirce, evolutionary philosophy is not only not hostile to a pqrsonal creator God but "it is really inseparable from that idea" (CP 6.157). In truth, "a11 reality is due to the creative power of God," though this is to be understood not so much in the sense that the universe has been created but in the sense that it is still in the process of being created (CP 6.506-507). A good deal more, of course, could be said regarding Peirce's belief in God from the drive for intelligibility. However, one curious aspect of Peirce's God can be mentioned. According to Donna Orange, Peirce held for an infinite God, and in correspondence chided James for his "pagan" belief in a finite God.18 At the same time, stated Orange, God for Peirce was a growing, a process God.lgShe cites Peirce where he identified God and Reason and where he maintained that "the essence of Reason is such that its being can never ,have been completely perfected. It must always be in a stage of incipiency" (CP 1.615). Further, Orange added that, "unwelcome as the conclusion may be," Peirce held

l4 It was during this period that Peirce wrote "Answers to Questions Concerning My Belief in God" (CP 6.494-521, 1906) and "A Neglected Argument for the Reality of God" (CP 6.452-93,1908). l5 In citing Peirce's texts, it is difficult to select passages that treat only of one or the other item, so there will be some overlap in the texts quoted. It should be noted that all the texts are from what Orange calls Peirce's last two periods, that is, from the late 1880s on.

For a discussion of Peirce's ethical theory and its relation to concrete reasonableness and the summum bonum, see my British Empiricism and American Pragmatism, pp. 136-43. l7 Julian Huxley seems to have claimed to be the originator of this phrase. See his Introduction to Teilhard de Chardin, T h Phenomenon of Man, p. 20. l8 Orange, Peirce's Conception of God, p. 72. l9 Ibid., pp. 67-68.

79

80

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

that growth was a part of God's nature.20It would seem that, to many process philosophers at least, the joining of infinity and process in God would not be so "unwelcome." To many other philosophers, however, it could constitute a strange if not incompatible union of divine attributes. Orange certainly gave good reasons for her own conclusion, and I am inclined to agree that this is what Peirce intended. Yet Peirce did not always seem entirely comfortable with this position. In speaking of purpose in God, he engaged in a dialogue with himself. "Yet a purpose essentially involves growth, and so cannot be attributed to God. Still it will, according to the hypothesis [of God], be less false to speak so than to represent God as purposeless" (CP 6.466). Moreover, since God is so intimately connected with Peirce's evolutionary cosmology, it seems likely that he accepted growth in God as he did in the process of evolution. Then, too, he conceded that "the hypothesis of God is a peculiar one, in that it supposes an infinitely incomprehensible object." Hence "this leaves the hypothesis but one way of understanding itself; namely, as vague yet as true as far as it is definite, and as continually tending to define itself more and more, and without limit" (CP 6.466) .21 On the moral level, it will be recalled that the notion of the summum bonum, the answer to the ultimate question of human purpose, was a central one for Peirce. In my view, this notion is intimately connected with a social ideal, for "man's highest developments are social" (6.443). He had said that the hypothesis of God, as strong at it was, must be submitted to the test of his Pragmaticism. And this "ultimate test must be in its value in the selfcontrolled growth of man's conduct of life" (CP 6.480). In another place he stated that the argument for God's reality "should present its conclusion, not as a proposition of metaphysical theology, but in a form directly applicable to the conduct of life, and Eull nutrition for man's highest growth" (CP 6.457). In my opinion, this ideal constitutes Peirce's strongest justification for a beIbid., p. 78. For a discussion of vagueness in Peirce as applied to his theism, see Vincent G. Potter, "'Vaguely Like a Man': The Theism of Charles S. Peirce" in Robert J. Roth (ed.), God Knowable and Unknowable (New York: Fordharn University Press, 1973), pp. 241-54; Orange, PeirceS Conception of God, pp. 73-75. 20

21

TRANSCENDENCE

81

lief in God. The test consisted in the effect that belief in God had on one's commitment to the whole of humanity. This entails a responsibility to the betterment of the social whole, and this in turn engenders a religious commitment to a belief in God. In other words, belief for Peirce was more than a mental act; it involved a relationship to and action upon the environment. In this case, it consisted in cooperative actions within a community of persons, and in that relationship and activity human experience achieved a religious dimension in a belief in and commitment to a deity. As he stated more fully: "Man's highest developments are social; and religion, though it begins in a seminal individual inspiration, only comes to full flower in a great church coextensive with a civilization. This is true of every religion, but supereminently so of the religion of love" (CP 6.443). There is a footnote to Peirce's pragmatic maxim which bears on the same point and which has been given little attention, as far as I can observe. He suggested that, before applying the rule, one ought tareflect upon it. He recalled the statement of Jesus: "You may know them by their fruits." He stated that the principle should not be applied in too individualistic a sense. He noted that "the great principle of continuity" shows the falsity of individualism. "Meantime, we know that man is not whole as long as he is single, that he is essentially a possible member of society. Especially, one man's experience is nothing, if it stands alone." The fruits that a single person produces are actually social, both in the sense that all work toward the same goal and in the sense that individual acts have consequences for the social whole. And this is true even when individuals are forced by hard circumstances to concentrate their attention on themselves and their families. But, without directly striving for it, far less comprehending it, they perform all that civilization re uires, and bring forth another gen9 eration to advance history another step. Their fruit is, therefore, collective; it is the achievement of the whole people [CP 5.402n 21.

He linked this with God when he added that "we may say that it is the process whereby man, with all his miserable littlenesses, becomes gradually more and more imbued with the Spirit of God, in which Nature and History are rife." At the same time he warned against an excessive preoccupation with a future life

82

TRANSCENDENCE

which may distract a person from actual engagement in the affairs of this life. Finally, it should be pointed out that this belief was a hypothesis, derived by abduction, and subjected to the test of consequences. But it is also interesting to notice how strongly he maintained this initial hypothesis to be. He had already said that an original conjecture may be accepted "as a simple interrogation, or as more or less Plausible, or, occasionally, as an irresistible belief" (CP 6.476). Regarding the hypothesis of God, the more one reflects on it, the more will the mind be attracted to it (CP 6.465). It must be subjected to the process of inquiry. But Peirce felt that, if the "normal person" ponders deeply on it "in scientific singleness of heart," that person

who is separate kom nature, as is a creator. "An external creator and his institutions may still be verbally confessed at Church in formulas that linger by their mere inertia, but the life is out of them, we avoid dwelling on them, the sincere heart of us is elsewhere" (PU 18).22 Consequently, in the light of the rise of evolutionism and social democratic ideals, God must be "more organic and intimate" in nature. James had difficulties also with Christianity as he knew it. In his lecture "Reflex Arc and Theism," given apparently to an audience sympathetic to New England Unitarianism, he indicated the reason for their abandonment of orthodox Calvinism. "A God who gives so little scope to love, a predestination which takes from endeavor all its zest with all its fruit, are irrational conceptions, because they say to our most cherished powers, There is no object for you" (WB 100). Regarding the "healthy minded" or "optimistic souls9'jn the Varieties, he granted that these types would find "the Romish Church" more congenial than Protestantism, which is pessimistic. Again, this is the reason for the more liberal movement of Unitarianism, led by such people as Emerson and Theodore Parker (RE 73-74).23Still, the two major Christian religions have their own difficulties. "Protestantism has been too pessimistic as regards the natural man. Catholicism has been too legalistic and moralistic, for either the one or the other to appeal in any generous way to the type of character formed of this peculiar mingling of elements [of the healthy-minded]" (RE 99). In arguing for the existence of God,James's belief was founded more on what I have called the moral level of experience than the cognitional. That statement may seem to be a concession to the frequent portrayal of James as being an anti-intellectual, and as one who equated religious experience with feeling. But this would be to forget that Jades espoused the pragmatic maxim of Peirce. It would also be to overlook James's long interest in religion, going back to The Will to Believe (1897), through The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902), to Pragmatism (1908). It would be too lengthy a story to follow step by step this journey made by

will come to be stirred to the depths of his nature by the beauty of the idea, and by its august practicality, even to the point of earnestly loving and adoring his strictly hypothetical God, and to that of desiring above all things to shape the whole conduct of life and all the springs of action into conformity with that hypothesis [CP 6.4671.

,

83

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

There is probably no other hypothesis that Peirce spoke about with such conviction as this. It is also one that was not to be accepted as "a proposition of metaphysical theology," but one to which the thrust of human experience leads and which results in the deepest dimension of religious experience. Turning now to James, one finds that he, too, criticized some aspects of theism and institutionalized religion. In Pragmatism, he rejected the "pure but unreal system" of the rationalist's God in the manner of Leibniz, who "sought to jushfj the ways of God to man, and to prove that the world we live in is the best of possible worlds" (P 18). To do this, Leibniz tried to show that even damned souls are important only because they contribute to the order and goodness of the universe. With unconcealed scorn; James states: "Leibnitz's [sic] feeble grasp of reality is too obvious to need comment from me. It is evident that no realistic image of the experience of a damned soul had even approached the portals of his mind. . . . What he gives us is a cold literary exercise, whose cheerful substance even hell-fire does not warm" (P 20). Moreover, in A Pluralistic Universe, James had difficulty with a God

"All references to A Pluralistic Universe are included in the text as PU, with page number. AIl references to The varieties of ReZigiuus Experience are included in the text as RE, with page number.

1

I

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

arnes, an account which I have developed elsewhere.24I shall ouch on some of what I take to be the highlights. However, at e outset I wish to state that, as important as discussions are of e "will to believe" argument or of the Varieties for understandng James's theory of religion and his philosophy in general, it is serious mistake to take either one as his last word. In any case, I iwould like to discuss some key ideas and along the way develop James's theory of religious experience. James, like Peirce and Dewey, was reacting against some of the harsh lines of what was left of New England Puritanism. I liken James's enterprise to that of Jonathan Edwards in his volume on religious affections.25A century earlier, Edwards was confronting two problems. One was an arid formalism which made religion remote from believers and separated God from humans, and humans from the world. The other was an over-emphasis on the emotions which was characteristic of the first Great Awakening in the 1740s. In A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections, Edwards tried to preserve the rich insights of Puritan theology and at the same time to give full acknowledgment to the importance of human experience and the affections. James, too, was reacting against formalism in religion, but he was also trying to show that in an age of science the religious affections and religious experience should not be thrust aside. He argued that, in spite of the fact that "our children are almost born scientific" (P 14), there was a place for both religion and science, or for the religious scientist. As he stated in the Preface, the Varieties (two series of G i o r d Lectures given in 1901 and 1902) was originally planned as two courses of ten lectures each: one on case studies of religious phenomena, such as the healthy-minded, the sick soul, conversion, saintliness, and mysticism; the other "a metaphysical one on 'Their Satisfaction through Philosophy,"' which was to give reasons for a belief in the reality of God (RE 6). But the psychologist in him led him to emphasize psychological material and to leave to philosophy only a brief final chapter and a Postscript. This latter enterprise was taken up in Pragmatism. See footnote 9 above. z5 Jonathan Edwards, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections, ed. John E. Smith (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959). 24

TRANSCENDENCE

85

In line with my intent to keep the discussion within reasonable limits, and in order to follow up on notions already treated, I would like to explore some key ideas in James's theory of religious experience, A pertinent text is: "Our passional nature not only lawfully may, but must decide an option between propositions, whenever it is a genuine option that cannot by its nature be decided on intellectual grounds" (WB 20) .26 This text and its context are, I believe, familiar enough and need only brief comments. James was talking about an option that could not be decided on intellectual grounds. It is clear from the context that by intellectual he meant here the empirical evidence of science that depends on sense experience. Consequently, he was speaking of some option for which there was no conclusive sense evidence for or against it. The option must be living, that is, possible for the individual. Thus, for me at my advanced age, the option of becoming an Olympic ski champion would not be live. It must be forced, that is, I have to make a decision, for example, regarding a serious and painful operation to save a limb. I cannot opt not to choose at all, since failing to choose would be equivalent to a negative decision. Finally, the option must be momentous, as in the previous example. Obviously, in James's view the option to believe in God or not to believe fulfills these three conditions. In such a case, one's passional nature lawfully (reasonably) may, even must, accept the option and believe. I would note here that his opinion that one must believe is too strong. What is one to make of the phrase "passional nature"? Some have equated it with personal subjective feeling. Indeed, in places James does use the word feeling. But from other contexts a different interpretation is warranted. As I have said in another place: He is trying to make the point that there is another kind of evidence, besides the empirical evidence of the senses which deserves consideration in any judgment. It is the evidence of the drives, desires, instincts, demands, exigencies of our own nature. He was convinced that these were in the main faithful and would lead to valid judgment and action just as those of the animals in the main lead them to choices which are necessary for their continued survival.27 26 The relevant essays in T h Will to Belime are: "The Will to Believe," "Is Life Worth Living?",and "Reflex Action and Theism." 27 Roth, "The Religious Philosophy of William James," God Knowcable and Unknowable, p. 254-55.

86

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

He advised the scientist not to put "your extinguisher upon my nature," or on one's heart, instincts, and courage (WB 31-32). Passional nature, then, is not a surface feeling responding to casual stimuli. It emerges from the inner recesses of one's being. In this connection, mention should be made of James's use of the term "ontological wonder," which continually seeks answers to further questions. In the context of the present discussion, James was seeking an answer to the impulses which are most important to us (WB 83), ones that are directed to our final goals and purposes. He rejected materialism as being inadequate to satisfy our ontological wonder. The goals and purposes that we envision as fulfilling our deepest drives and aspirations are beyond the impressions of our senses, and indeed beyond anything that this universe can supply. Consequently, he felt that a belief in a deity was a reasonable one. Now, theism always stands ready with the most practically rational solution it is possible to conceive. Not an energy of our active nature to which it does not authoritatively appeal, not an emotion of which it does not normally and naturally release the springs. At a single stroke, it changes the dead it of the world into a living thou, with whom the whole man may have dealings [WB 1011.

James stated that scientists develop hypotheses because of a drive for harmony in their logical and mathematical computations. Why, then, may not a deep need of the spiritual and eternal be a sign that there is something invisible beyond the physical universe (WB 51)?James did not profess that he had proved the reality of God, if by proof one means empirical evidence. But he did claim the right to believe when empirical evidence could not decide the issue one way or another. It has already been noted that in the Varieties, James supplied only a brief discussion of the philosophical underpinning for a belief in God. In the main part of the book, however, he gave some hints about his own standpoint. It was mainly psychology, "the only brand of learning in which I am particularly versed" (RE 12). But in a sense the book was a continuation of his Will to Believe essays in that he made a strong claim that one ought not to dismiss any kind of experience, even religious, for what it maytell us about reality. Science does not have the last say, for it "can

TRANSCENDENCE

8'

challenge you for proofs, and chop logic, and put you down wid words. But it will fail to convince or convert you all the same, i your dumb intuitions are opposed to its conclusions" (RE 67) One can detect a delicious bit of irony in the phrase "dumb intu itions." James seemed to be mocking the intransigent side of sci ence and to be arguing for the place of intuitions, as "dumb" a they may seem to be to some. In the final two sections of the book, James admitted that hc could give religious philosophy only a quick look, since it is ; large subject (RE 339). As a result, these sections are less t h a satisfactory. They are a kind of mixtum-gatherum, containing a cri tique of the "scholastic proofs" that deal with the reality of Go( and His attributes but do not touch one's daily life, and the ple; again that human experience and the "pinch of destiny" be give1 a , hearing. Most of all, experience gives evidence that God exist because he has real effects. These consist in the fact that a belie in God answers the deepest craving of the human person for corn plete fulfillment "in spite of the gates of hell and all adverse teI restrial appearances" in which "tragedy is only provisional an( partial, and shipwreck and disillusionment are not the absolute1 final things" (RE 407). At the same time, James admitted tha belief in God was still a hypothesis, though a solid one, and tha it was strong enough to satisfy his own deep drive for completion Presumably he also held that others would find it worthy of belie if they gave sufficient thought to it. It is my contention that Pragmatism, especially in the last twc chapters, fulfills James's promise made in the Varieties to validatt philosophically the drive of religious experience to a belief ii God. He maintained that in contemporary society there was drive in the person for both science and religion. Six years intel vened between the bublication of the two books. In Aagmatisn he acknowledged his debt to Peirce's pragmatic maxim and the] developed his own brand of pragmatism, though he had dread dealt with it in bits and pieces over several years. More than thai his aim now was to propose pragmatism as "a happy harmonize of empiricist ways of thinking with the more religious demands o human beings" (P 39). It may seem to be stretching his terms ; bit, but I do think that the word "demands" in relation to "reli gious" was not lightly chosen. As always, it means more than ca

88

89

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

sual, subjective feelings; it entails a thrust coming from the deepest springs of human nature. In calling pragmatism a "happy harmonizer," he attempted to reconcile the rise of the scientific attitude with religious experience. The final test of a belief in God, as of any hypothesis, is its consequences. In Varieties, he had likened those without a belief in God to persons skating on a frozen lake, surrounded by cliffs, and as having no hope of escape. Meanwhile, the ice is gradually melting (RE 141-42). In Pragmatism, he rejected scientific materialism, for it was an "utter final wreck and tragedy" for human hopes and aspirations (P 105). In the final chapter entitled "Pragmatism and Religion," James reminded us that "on pragmatic principles we cannot reject any hypothesis if consequences useful to life flow from it" (P 131). He spoke about the world's "salvation," and he allowed one to interpret it in any way that one may wish (P 137). But it is clear that he meant the final consummation of all people, both individually and corporately in cooperation with one another. Salvation, then, has a necessary social ingredient, as does his meaning of religious experience. It is not just my salvation or yours, but that of all of us. Moreover, salvation entails a live hypothesis and live possibilities in the sense that as ideals they can be realized by cooperative effort. Warming to this thesis, James proposed the following situation:

James added that all of us may hesitate at one time or another to rise to the challenge. But "if you are normally constituted," you would not spurn the offer as being too tentative. You would not choose an irrational universe that has no hope of final consummation for its inhabitants. You would accept the challenge and would "add your ownJiat to that of the creator" (P 139-41). James ends his Pragmatism with the words: "Between the two extremes of crude naturalism on the one hand and transcendental absolutism on the other, you may find that what I take the liberty of calling the pragmatistic or melioristic type of theism is exactly what you require" (P 144). Now for some concluding remarks on James. If I were to recommend the ordering of reading his writings on theism, I would /' suggest that a start be made with the appropriate essays in The Will to Believe, then the Varieties, followed by Pragmatism. After that, one should re-read The Will to Believe and the Varieties. I believe that after Pragmatism these two works will seem to be considerably new. In the context of his pragmatism, too, it will be seen why God is a hypothesis, though for James as it was for Peirce it is as strong as a hypothesis can possibly be without becoming a certainty. Finally, for James God is finite, a position that Peirce roundly rejected. The reason for James's position was the difficulty he had in reconciling an infinite God with the problem of evil. But then James was not the first one in the history of religion and theology to be puzzled by this problem! John Dewey's approach to God and religion differed from that of Peirce and James on at least three counts. First, in his early life, Dewey was more deeply involved than the others were in an institutionalized religion. As a boy, he was a member of the Congregational Church in Byrlington, Vermont, and attended its services and Sunday school classes. For a while, during his college years at the University of Vermont, he even taught catechism. But three years after graduation, when he began graduate studies at Johns Hopkins, he drifted away from the practice of religion.28 Second, the negative aspects of religion, at least as he knew it, affected him more deeply and led him finally to reject God and

Suppose that the world's author put the case to you before creation, saying: "I am going to make a world not certain to be saved, a world the perfection of which shall be conditional merely, the condition being that each several agent does its own 'level best.' I offer you the chance of taking part in such a world. Its safety, you see, is unwarranted [not certain]. It is a real adventure, with real danger, yet it may win through. It is a social scheme of co-operative work genuinely to be done. Will you join the procession?Will you trust yourself and trust the other agents enough to face the risk?" [P 1391.

There are two suppositions here. One is that salvation depends on cooperative effort. The other is that the outcome is not certain; true to his position that belief in God is a hypothesis, James conceded that the world may not be saved, and that such a possibility would not please those who hope for an assured outcome.

28

George Dykhuizen, "An Early Chapter in the Life of john Dewey,"Journal

of the Histoly ofldeas, 14 (1952), 556, 568.

90

91

RADICAL PRAG~MATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

religion in the traditional sense. One may call them biases, but they were certainly troublesome experiences that he had had within Congregational religion. The church was heavily Calvinistic, with a strict code of behavior. His mother used to ask him if he was "right" with Jesus and whether he had asked Him to forgive his faults.29Familiar enough is his reference late in life to his Burlington years, when he felt the "painful oppression" or "inward laceration" resulting from "divisions by way of isolation of self from the world, of soul from body, of nature from God" (LW 5:153). For Dewey, a viable and meaningful philosophy and religion had to find a place for the human being in the world. The universe cannot be alien to humans but must be the very environment in which they find the fulfillment of their potential as persons. Since God and religion as he knew it were not open to such fulfillment-indeed, were hostile to it-he rejected God and religion in the traditional sense. Third, this rejection warrants his being called a "naturalistic pragmatist" or a "pragmatic naturalist." For Dewey, nature is an allembracing category. Human beings begin from nature, are a part of it, and find their development and fulfillment within it. In Individualism Old and New, he identified his naturalism as one "which perceives that man with his habits, institutions, desires, thoughts, aspirations, ideals and struggles, is within nature, an integral part of it" (LW 5:114). Clearly, then, Dewey left no place for a transcendent in the sense in which we have been using the term. But what is more philosophically interesting is whether or not his theory of experience has within it the potential to be extended to a transcendent. I believe it does. On the cognitional level, attention has already been given to the drive, the thrust, the dynamism for knowledge that is evident in his theory of experience. With James, one can ask: Who is to put the extinguisher on one's nature? Why not a limitless future to the quest for knowledge? It is customary to use the term "indefinite" to describe the progress of reality and knowledge since everyone "knows" that a real infinite is a fiction. Yet one may inquire why such a being is so impossible a notion. Its incomprehensible character seems to lessen when one consid-

ers the astronomical figures that science deals with habitually and now almost casually. The age of the universe is measured in billions of years, the age of some forms of biological and animal life is measured in millions and hundreds of thousands of years, and objects perceptible by high-powered instruments are many light years away. On the other end of the scale, science deals with elements that are unbelievably minute. If the molecules in an eightounce tumbler of water were turned into grains of sand, they would cover the United States up to ten feet. It may be argued that the gap between finitude and infinity is itself infinite. But the more we know about such measurements, the less awesome and incomprehensible becomes the drive for knowledge without limitations or a being who embodies such knowledge. At least it is seen toJe less and less unacceptable, or better, more and more reasonable. Dewey himself never went that far, though I am convinced that his notion of experience, if purified of its limitations, would lead in that direction. On the moral level, it has been noted that in Dewey's view human experience pushes on to ideals and purposes that go beyond the present moment and that are capable of satisfjmg the human drive for fulfillment on ever deeper and wider levels, no matter the adversities and difficulties that one would meet. As he noted in Art as Experience, we are introduced to "a world beyond this world which is nevertheless the deeper reality of the world in which we live in our ordinary experiences. We are carried out beyond ourselves to find ourselves" (LW 10:199).By these words he did not envision goals or a future life that exceeded human striving, but in the context he pushed experience as far as it could go and even beyond, so that experience itself seemed to overflow its own boundaries. There are several such passages in Art as Experience which reveal the influence of Hegel. This should not seem strange since, by his own admishon, his acquaintance with Hegel left a permanent deposit on his thinking (LW 5:154).

29 Sidney Hook, "Some Memories of John Dewey," Commmta?y, 14 (1952), 246.

Hegel's synthesis of subject and object, matter and spirit, the divine and the human, was, however, no mere intellectual formula; it o p erated as an immense release, a liberation. Hegel's treatment of human culture, of institutionsand the arts, involved the same dissolution of hard-and-fast dividing walls, and had a special attraction for me [LW 5:1531.

92

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE

It is interesting to note that Art was written after Dewey had "naturalized Hegel," as Sidney Hook phrased it.30 This means that Dewey attributed to all objects the natural interactions and connections which he had observed in organisms. By this move, he substituted the natural unity of interactions for the divine unity of an Absolute. Dewey's gradual move to a naturalized Hegel followed his disillusionment with the separations inculcated by the religious experience of his youth. One can only speculate what difference would have been made had he seen that there was an alternative to the "prevalent idealism" which James too had rejected. According to James, idealism projects a higher agency, "the absolute all-witness which 'relates' things together by throwing 'categories' over them like a net" (MT 173). Suppose Dewey could have been convinced that a transcendent being is also immanent in the world and in experience, that it continues to operate in nature by furthering the ongoing creative process of the universe as Peirce maintained, that it does not alienate humans from the world but situates them in it precisely so that they may enter into a relationship with the transcendent through experience. Suppose further that Dewey could have seen that his description of religious experience as a commitment to other human beings in a cooperative effort for the fulfillment of all was precisely the path through which the transcendent is eventually reached. For Dewey, purposes and interactions applied in an eminent way to the community of persons and extended far beyond contemporary individuals to those yet unborn. Again, this ideal of a world beyond this world and of generations beyond this generation had no arbitrary boundaries but pressed on without restriction toward an ultimate ideal. S u p pose he had taken literally his own statement made in A Common Faith: "Whether or no we are, save in some metaphorical sense, all brothers, we are at least all in the same boat traversing the same turbulent ocean. The potential religious significance of this fact is infinite" (LW 9:56). Would all this have made a difference in Dewey's naturalism? I like to think that it would have. But in the end much more important is the potential of his theory of 30

Sidney Hook, John Dewey: An Intelkctual Portrait (New York:John Day, 1939),

p. 14.

_

93

experience to extend itself beyond naturalism and to find its completion in a transcendent, the nature of which is to be described in the next chapter. Before closing the discussion on transcendence, there is one more problem that should be addressed. At the end of the previous chapter on pragmatic moral theory, the question was raised regarding moral obligation. I accepted Austin Fagothey's descrip tion of unconditional moral obligation as an "absolutely imperative but noncompulsory necessity." The point is that the obligation is unconditional, not the response. This means that one cannot not be obligated but nonetheless one may act contrary to the obligation. I cited examples in which one invokes such an obligation in one's own case, for example, a person who is physically attacked and robbed, or in the case of others, as occurred in Thoreads resistance to slavery. I rejected as insufficient the appeal to the demands entailed in being a full human person and the obligation of the individual to live up to them. My diaculty was that this reason may be valid as an exhortation to act in a manner that accords with human dignity, but it merely tells us what must be done to be intelligent, not moral. It fails as a moral imperative. My conclusion from this line of thought is that, ifone wishes to preserve unconditional obligation (and there are good reasons for doing so), something more is needed. I would suggest, then, that we take another look at the drive, the demand within human experience for growth in knowledge and in social responsibility. May we not see that there is also a drive for unconditional obligation which is more than a feeling? That there must be some absolute goodness somewhere is also a cry emerging from the deepest recesses of the human person. Though it may be more frequent in one's own case, it has manifested itself in our own times in the drive for civil rights and socialjustice for all citizens. Thus we are brought to a crucial question: Whence comes such a cry? And who is the l a w g & -superior to human beings, capable of originating the demand and of standing as guarantor of its validity? My claim is that, ifwe are convinced of the existence of an unconditional moral obligation, and ifwe follow the drive of experience toward it, we may reasonably believe that there is a lawgiver beyond human nature who is the source of the obligation and who makes demands upon human beings to act in accord with it.

IMMANENCE

Immanence has several meanings, so does immanence. Etymologically, it can sign* "remaining in" and is o p posed to "going out." For the pragmatists, it meant being against radical distinctions and separations, oppositions and conflicts. On the cognitional level, they rejected the "bifurcations" of ratio nalism and idealism, whether of the Cartesian or Hegelian kind. These bifurcations included the separation of spirit and matter, soul and body, knower and known. They turned away fiom the "spectator theory" of knowledge in which the mind was merely passive, over against the object. They argued that knowledge did not arise from above and beyond experience, dictating what reality was. Against classical empiricism, which claimed that we know our ideas first and then move out to the object, they proposed that knowledge was an interaction between the knower and known, in effect making reality integral to or immanent in the knowing process. On the moral level, too, ideals did not come from above but took their rise within experience itself in contact with reality. Their notion of what it means to be a person included as essential the close relationship of all individuals in a common enterprise of assisting one another to achieve the full development of themselves as human beings. The human being, then, is essentially related to others and has a commitment to and responsibility for them. In view of these considerations, and in accordance with their difficulties regarding God and religion as they knew them, it is not surprising that the pragmatists opted for a God who was more intimate to the world and for a religious theory that enriched human experience. Consequently, in this chapter attention is given to the immanence of God and religion in human experience. In "A Neglected Argument for the Reality of God" (CP 6.45293,1908), Peirce gave his pragmatic argument. It is long and com-

JUST AS TRANSCENDENCE

-

95

plex, and I will not go into it in detail here.l Some aspects of it, however, are noteworthy. The argument begins with "Musement." It is not mere fantasy, in which the mind wanders at will, enclosed within itself. He called it Pure Play, governed by the law of liberty but in close contact with the surrounding universe. The best time is "the dawn and the gloaming" (CP 6.459), when one can become aware of the beauty and diversity of such things as flowers and butterflies (CP 6.462). At night, the muser will be impressed by the "homogeneities of connectedness" in the breathtaking variety of the universe: the same elementary kinds of nature found in every star, and throughout the universe the same proportions of chemical elements; the number of carbon compounds and the variety of amino acids. A walk at night along $lonely open road reveals "the stars in silence," many of them visible to the naked eye and others seen with the aid of the telescope. Then there are the marvelous powers of the whole realm of animals, and particularly of humans. In a text already quoted, Peirce stated: Let a man drink in such thoughts as come to him in contemplating the physico-psychical universe without any special purpose of his own; especially the universe of the mind which coincides with the universe of matter. The idea of there being a God over it all of course will be often suggested; and the more he considers it, the more he will be enwrapt with Love of this idea. He will ask himself whether or not there really is a God. If he allows instinct to speak, and searches his own heart, he will at length find that he cannot help believing it. I cannot tell how every man will think. I know that the majority of men, especiaIly educated men, are so full of pedantries-especially the male sex-that they cannot think straight about these things. But I can tell how a man must think if he is apragmatist [CP 6.501, italics added]. \

In these musings, a side of Peirce surfaces that is different from the cold, logical mind that seems to predominate in his more scientific and logical writings. In this, he seems close to the Emerson of Nature, who, in his famous "transparent eyeball" passage, wrote as follows: Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of speSee my "Is Peirce's Pragmatism Anti-Jamesian?", pp. 541-63.

96

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

IMMANENCE

cia1 good fortune, 1 have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods, too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life is always a child. In the woods is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he would tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life-no disgrace, no calamiq (leaving me my eyes), which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground-my head bathed by the blithe air and uplifted into infinite space-all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or parcel of God.2

matical conceptions and by training in physical investigations [CP 6.1021.

Commenting on this text, Brent's opinion is that Peirce never clarified his position regarding the "virus" of transcendentalism; he was either unaware of it or kept it hidden from "his nominalist and mechanist fellow scientists." Brent favors the latter explanation as more pla~sible.~ Nevertheless, both Emerson and Peirce were reacting against the aridity and formality of their respective religious backgrounds (Unitarian and Congregational), and especially against the separation of humans from God and nature. Emerson's main concern was to unih one's experience of God and nature. His starting point wag "We are as much strangers in nature as we are aliens from God."5 Against this he proposed that "[the world] is a remoter and inferior incarnation of God, a projection of God in the unconscious." And again: "All things with which we deal, preach to us. What is a farm but a mute gospel? The chaff and the wheat, weeds and plants, blight, rain, insects, sun-it is a sacred emblem from the first furrow of spring to the last stack which the snow of winter overtakes in the fields.""n the end, Emerson seems to have turned to some kind of idealism or pantheism, or perhaps to a God as some overall energy, but he shared with the pragmatists the enterprise of breaking down the walls between humans, nature, and God. Unlike Emerson, however, Peirce introduced a pragmatic argument for a belief in God, as described in the previous chapter. But it was the process of musing, or union with nature, that provided the abductive hypothesis which was to be tested in pragmatic fashion. In opposition to the hostility that arose between religion and science, Peirce urged that religion put aside its timidity and face the new movements within science. The "Governor of history" is leading them both. Hence one motivated by religious experience "will gladly go forward, sure that truth is not split into two warring doctrines, and that any change that knowledge can work in his faith can only affect its expression, but not the deep mystery ex-

It may seem surprising that I should favorably compare Emerson and Peirce. It is true, as Joseph Brent relates, that Emerson was a frequent guest of the Peirce household in Cambridge until Charles was six years old. Charles's wife, Harriet Melusina Fay, called Zina, was as a young woman a friend of Emerson and "carried on a brief but intense correspondence" with him in which she criticized his Unitariani~m.~ Brent indicates that Peirce's estimate of Emerson was ambivalent. He frequently made known his dimculties with transcendentalism. Yet Peirce "with heavy irony did proclaim, when he was fifty-two, its profound influence on him." In "The Law of the Mind" (l892), Peirce himself wrote: 1 may mention, for the benefit of those who are curious in studying mental biographies, that I was born and reared in the neighborhood of Concord-I mean in Cambridge-at the time when Emerson, Hedge, and their friends were disseminating the ideas that they had caught from Schelling, and Schelling from Plotinus, from Boehm, or from Cod knows what minds stricken with the monstrous mysticism of the East. But the atmosphere of Cambridge held many an antiseptic against Concord transcendentalism; and I am not conscious of having contracted any of that virus. Nevertheless, it is probable that some cultured bacilli, some benignant form of the disease was implanted in my soul, unawares, and that now, after long incubation, it comes to the surface, modified by mathe-

-

Brooks Atkinson (ed.), The Sehded Writings ofRa4h WaldoEmerson (New York: The Modem Library, 1950), p. 6. Brent, Charbs ~ & d m s ~eirce,pp. 45 and 64.

97

* Ibid., p. 209. -

Atkinson, The Selected Writings of Ra@h WaldoEmerson, p. 36. Ibid., p. 23.

98

99

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

IMMANENCE

pressed" (6.432). Such a state of mind Peirce called "a religion of science," not that science has been its source or that the two are mingled and confused.

process. Since the human mind is akin to the truth, it can make steps, small though they be, to its discovery. This enables one's successors to go further, renders life worth living, and the perpetuation of the human race worth pursuing. More than that, it "makes progressive creation worth doing" (CP 8.136). He also joined human endeavor to the development of the General or Reason in the world, which is always in a state of growth with the cooperation of human effort. Reason in this sense also coincides with concrete reasonableness and the summum bonum.

But it is a religion, so true to itself, that it becomes animated by the scientific spirit, confident that all the conquests of science will be triumphs of its own, and accepting all the results of science, as scientific men themselves accept them, as steps toward the truth, but which in such cases merely await adjustments which time is sure to effect. This attitude, be it observed, is one which religion will assume not at the dictate of science, still less by way of a compromise, but simply and solely out of a bolder confidence in herself and in her own destiny [CP 6.4331.

Peirce did not hesitate to call God the creator, but "not so much to have been as to be now creating the universe" (CP 6.505). This, of course, is in line with his evolutionary cosmology, whereby the world is still in the process of developing. But his description of how science is to be conducted indicates that it is cooperating in the creative action of God by pursuing the truth. At one point, he described why modern science has been so successful (CP 7.50-54). First of all, it is considered to be a living enterprise as knowledge not already acquired but as being constantly sought. But it is also a community enterprise. It requires people who exert great energy in dispelling present ignorance and eradicating errors both for themselves and for future generations. More than that, those involved work not only with singleness of purpose but each puts aside any self-seeking and shares one's findings with others. The scientist thus "mounts upon the shoulders of another." This is the essence, life, and beauty of science (CP 7.51). Peirce then summed up his meaning of science. Science is to mean for us a mode of life whose single animating purpose is to find out the real truth, which pursues this purpose by a well-considered method, founded on thorough acquaintance with such scientific results already ascertained by others as may be available, and which seeks cooperation in the hope that the truth may be found, if not by any of the actual inquirers, yet ultimately by those who come after them and who shall make use of their results [CP '7.541.

In a similar passage, Peirce praised the majesty of truth, to which "every knee must bend," and he linked science with the creative

The creation of the universe, which did not take place during a certain busy the year B.C., butofisReason. going on today never will be week, done,in is this very 4004 development I do notand see

-

how one can have a more satisfymg ideal than the development of Reason so understood. The one thing whose admirableness is not due to an ulterior reason is Reason itself comprehended in all its fullness, so far as we can comprehend it. Under this conception, the ideal of conduct will be to exercise our little function in the operation of creation by giving a hand toward rendering the world more reasonable whenever, as the slang is, it is "up to us" to do so [CP 1.6151.

In chapter 3, it was shown that human endeavor is creative also in the cooperative effort of all humans to attain the fulfillment of everyone. Though Peirce did not spell this out in as great detail as Dewey did, it is clear that the social dimension was essential to being a person and that as a member of society each one contributes to the good of all. "We may say that it is the process whereby man, with all his miserable littlenesses, becomes gradually more and more imbued with the Spirit of God, in which Nature and History are rife" (CP 402, ft. 2). 'AS an aside, while admitting that the action of God was a creating process and not creation completed, he held that God was not immanent in the universe (CP 5.496). By this I suspect that he was opposing a transcendentalism of an Emersonian type, where the line between God and the world was blurred. For he certainly viewed God, though distinct from the universe, as intimate and active in it. Though Peirce held that a church requires a creed, a body of truths (CP 6.450), the most important characteristic that he proposed for religion was love. This follows from his emphasis on the

100

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

phrase of St. John: "God is love" (CP 6.287).For this reason, the Christian religion is a Way of Life, simply love, love of God and neighbor (CP 6.440-41). "It may be regarded in a higher point of view with St. John as the evolutionary formula. But in whatever light it is regarded or in whatever direction developed, the belief in the law of love is the Christian faith" (CP 6.441).Consequently, such a religion is essentially social and demands a community. Peirce's ideal was "that the whole world shall be united in the bond of common love of God accomplished by each man's loving his neighbor." For this, "a great catholic church is needed" (CP 6.443). Peirce had great respect for the Christian church. To it the scientist and philosopher owe a great debt. The medieval monks preserved ancient literature; the revival of science was due to the church's revival of learning; our intellectual system and the English-speakingworld bear its marks. The law of love, though often violated, is the soul of civilization coming to Europe through Christianity. The church was an important factor in developing social life (CP 6.449). No doubt superstition has been characteristic of churches historically; "but superstition is the grime upon the venerable pavement of the sacred edifice, and he who would wash that pavement clean should be willing to get down on his knees to work inside the church" (CP 6.447). Characteristic, then, of Peirce's theory of religion was a belief in God and the relationship of God with the summum bonum, concrete reasonableness, and the ongoing process of his evolutionary cosmology. Though apparently not an avid member of a church, he did hold that a congregation united in love and faith was essential and that the community was involved in the ongoing creative action of God. The main concern of William James in his religious philosophy was not the role of institutionalized religion or of the churches. Rather, it was the attempt to justify the right of the scientific person to make a reasonable claim to be religious. Hence his Pragrizatism begins with the distinction between the "tough-minded" and the "tender-minded," the rationalist and the empiricist. By the former he meant the "absolutist" or "crude rationalist" who sees God and the world as onedimensional. In this sense, God has dictated from on high once and for all what the world is to be"

IMMANENCE

101

like, without the possibility of development or change in terms either of evolution or of human activity. God is the "all-experiencer" covering the world like a net, and everything must be explained in terms of God's irrevocable decrees. This attitude he illustrated dramatically in the example of Leibniz's attempt to justrfy the place of the souls in hell who fulfill God's eternal plan in the best of all possible worlds. In this respect, God is remote from the world, without concern for the human condition. By the tough-minded empiricist he meant the materialist, the determinist who goes by the "facts" and who recognizes no other element in the universe except sense objects. The empiricist also excludes God and looks upon the events of the world as regulated by deterministic laws. Hence James viewed empiricism as a pessimistic or fatalistic philosophy. It was with both these temperaments that James took issue in Pragmatism. He had already argued for the existence of God in The Will to Believe essays and in the concluding sections of the Varieties. In Pragmatism, he confronted the leading philosophical movements of his day. He proposed pragmatism as the happy harmonizer, the reconciler between rationalism and empiricism, "between the two extremes of crude naturalism on the one hand and transcendent absolutism on the other" (P 144). In this way, he felt that he was offering a viable alternative to neither the tough nor tender in the extreme sense, but to the "mixed as most of us are" (P 144). More than that, in A Pluralistic UnivmeJames maintained that "whether we be empiricists or rationalists, we are, ourselves, parts of the universe and show the same deep concern in its destinies" (PU 11). For this reason# the human being must feel that the divine is "organic and intimate" in-the world (PU IS), that God makes a difference, especially when the difficulties of life become oppressive. Few are James's remarks about the nature of a church or about a community of believers in a union of love and faith, such as we find in Peirce. As Ralph Barton Perry notes, James believed in a God and, later in life, in immortality, but he did not subscribe to any form of dogma or to institutional religion. "He was essentially a man of faith, though not a man for any one church or creed

102

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

against the rest."' He did not advocate the abandonment of the churches. In the Varieties, he indicated this indirectly when he asked: "Ought it, indeed, to be assumed that the lives of all men should show identical elements? In other words, is the existence of so many religious types and sects and creeds regrettable?" (RE 384). His answer was negative, based on his opinion that people vary in their powers, functions, duties, and difficulties. The divine means a group of qualities, notjust one. Hence: "If Emerson were forced to be a Moody, or a Moody forced to be a Whitman, the total human consciousness of the divine would suffer" (RE 384). Within that context, however, the sections in Pragmatism discussed in the previous chapter advocate the cooperative effort of all in the salvation of the world. Thus each one is to add one's $at to that of ongoing creation. This effort is to be done in union with the continuing creative activity of God who, as finite, is primus inter pares, the first among equals. In this way, all cooperate in advancing history and civilization and in bringing the plastic, malleable world to completion. In all this, the God in whom James believed was as immanent in the world as a superhuman being could possibly be without being reduced to human form or lost in the events of this world. Intimacy, concern for the human condition, and the cooperation of humans in the task of salvation were the characteristics of the deity. It was the kind of God that James was convinced was indicated by the dynamism of the human spirit toward the need of feeling at home in the world and of rising above the limitations of an uncertain and often pain-filled future; in short, a God who is both transcendent and immanent. If one looks at the religious philosophy of the three pragmatists under discussion, one sees an interesting development regarding transcendence and immanence. Peirce seemed to stress transcendence and even had reservations about immanence. But as the above discussion indicated, this can be explained plausibly by his anxiety to prevent the distinction between God and the world from being blurred. James, while holding for a transcendent God, leaned more toward immanence with his finite God. With Dewey, Ralph Barton Perry, The Thought and Characterof WilliamJames (Boston: Little, Brown, 1935), 11, pp. 356, 358.

IMMANENCE

103

we reach the limits of immanence to the exclusion of transcendence. Dewey's difficulty with religion as he knew it has already been mentioned and is well known. As a result, he rejected God and religion in the traditional sense. In A Common faith (19341, he then developed his theory of "religious experience," which, in his view, provided all the rich dimensions of experience that were claimed by traditional religion. This is linked to the moral aspect of experience already discussed. There it was shown that the pragmatists in general and Dewey in particular envisioned a purpose, a goal, an ideal which is formed in interaction with the physical (environment and especially with a community of people and which enables one to reach one's highest fulfillment or self-realization. For Dewey, this ideal is not dictated from above but emerges from the imaginative extensions of all the possibilities for development that can be conceived in nature at any one time. One appreciates that the present moment has links with and leads to future ideals. In this sense, the term "religious" can be applied to any activity, even the most "ordinary." Another approach to religious experience as described by Dewey is the degree of harmony that is reached in the human person through adjustment to the environment (LW 9:12-1 3). This adjustment is called "accommodation" when particular modes of conduct are affected, not the whole self, and it is mainly a passive process. "Adaptation" takes place when the individual reacts to existing situations and actively changes them. Conditions are accommodated to suit wants and purposes. But there are also more "inclusive and deep seated adjustments." \

They relate not to this and that want in relation to this and that condition of our surroundings, but pertain to our being in its entirety. Because of their scope, this modification of ourselves is enduring. It lasts through any amount of vicissitude of circumstances, internal and external. There is a composing and harmonizing of the various elements of our being such that, in spite of changes in the special conditions that surround us, these conditions are also arranged, settled, in relation to us [LW 9:12-131.

At this point religious experience is attained, and it is attained solely through the interaction between the self and the environment.

104

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

This ideal Dewey contrasted with "the doctrine of religions," where "God" means "some kind of Being having prior and therefore non-ideal existence" (LW 9:29). Instead, Dewey identified "God" as follows: The idea that "God" represents a unification of ideal values that is essentially imaginative in origin when the imagination supervenes in conduct is attended with verbal difficulties owing to our frequent use of the word "imagination"to denote fantasy and doubtful reality. But the reality of ideal ends as ideals is vouched for by their undeniable power in action. An ideal is not an illusion because imagination is the organ through which it is apprehended. For all possibilities reach us through the imagination. In a definite sense the only meaning that can be assigned the term "imagination" is that things unrealized in fact come home to us and have power to stir us. . . . The unity signifies not a single Being, but the unity of loyalty and effort evoked by the fact that many ends are one in the power of their ideal, or imaginative, quality to stir and hold us [LW 9:29-301.

In this sense, "God," or the imaginative unification and projection of all possible ideals, arises entirely through human interaction with the world. It is, therefore, as Dewey explicitly defined it, exclusively immanent. At the same time, as I have tried to show, the dynamic aspect of Dewey's notion of experience allows it to be extended to the transcendent. At the same time, Dewey did not advocate "the destruction of the churches that now exist" (LW 954). But they must become "catholic," that is, they must fulfill "the demand that churches show a more active interest in social affairs, that they take a definite stand upon such questions as war, economic injustice, political corruption, that they stimulate action for a divine kingdom on earth" (LW 9:55). Dewey felt that in the past the churches had not done enough in this regard, in other words that the churches had not been sufficiently immanent in human affairs. The three pragmatists, then, each in his own way, held for a God or for religious experience that was intimate in the world and in human affairs. The impetus to move in this direction was surely prompted by an initial reaction against institutionalized religion as they knew it. But more important than that were the potentiality and richness of the religious dimension that they dis-

IMMANENCE

105

cerned to be inherent in experience itself. Peirce and James also held for transcendence in a God beyond this world. Though Dewey rejected a deity, his theory of experience kept pushing on, so that the bounds of experience seemed to be continuously extended. In this qualified sense, therefore, transcendence and immanence can be said to have characterized the religious philosophy of all three pragmatists. A balance of transcendence and immanence has been a problem of Christianity since its inception. In the history of American religion, the pendulum has gone from one end of the spectrum to the other. Puritanism and its later forms stressed God's trankendence and separation from the world, even the hostility of the deity toward the world and human beings. Later Unitarianism, influenced by Emerson, moved to a position without God which was scarcely distinguishable from a thoroughgoing naturalism. The pragmatists took their rise in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, when hard-line Calvinism was already beginning to soften considerably. But to the pragmatists themselves, religion was still too rigid and did not give suacient scope to the place of human beings in the world. In varying degrees, they affirmed that the human person was a part of nature and that one's growth and development were intimately bound up with it. They shared a common vision of trying to show how a modem person could be open to the rich dimensions of experience and find in human activity a means of developing also as a religious person. Those adhering to an institutionalized religion may not be willing to go as far as they did in affirming the importance of involvement in the world, and certainly not as f h as Dewey in his rejection of God and religion. Nevertheless, the pragmatists raised some important questions which could prompt the believer to reconsider his or her own religion to see if it is gives sufficient attention to the natural universe and to the resources that this world has for the growth of the religious person. The following chapter will describe the experience of a man who, as a person adhering to institutionalized religion and as a scientist, faced difficulties similar to those of the pragmatists. He outlined the problem and then tried to show how the resources of his own religion enabled him to develop as a human person

106

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

and as a religious person through his life in the world. While his experience may not be a model that is convincing for everyone, it may help those who are facing the same problem as he did. It may also provide further reflections for those who see in religion an obstacle to human life.

Transcendence and Immanence: An Alternative WE HAVE

LOOKED AT THE THOUGHT of three men who tried to reconcile their human lives with a religious commitment. All of them, in whole or in part, remained outside any regular membership in an institutionalized religion, and yet in varying degrees they tried to just* a theory of religion or of religious experience. Attention will now be given to a man who was wholly committed to a religious institution. He was, in fact, a Roman Catholic priest of the religious (Jesuit) Order of the Society of Jesus and a renowned French anthropologist. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) is chosen for consideration not mainly because the present writer shares his religious convictions, though this is certainly an important factor. But more than that, Teilhard faced some of the problems experienced by the pragmatists. In the Introduction, his similarity with Dewey was noted. Both stressed the need of engaging oneself in the world in order to become not only a human person, but also a truly religious person. But he can also be compared with William James. Both James and Teilhard grappled with the problem of reconciling their lives as scholars in a scientific age with their lives as religious believers. The thought of Teilhard is examined, therefore, to see the conflicts experienced by a religiously committed person and the manner in which he resolved them. He is taken, not as the model of how such problems are to be addressed, but as an example of how one person did so in circumstances quite similar to those of the pragmatists. The background of Teilhard's life can be briefly told.' He en-

' For further details on Teilhard's life, see the following:Julian Huxley, "Introduction" to Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, T k Phenomenon of Man; and Thomas King, s.J., "The Milieux Teilhard Left Behind," Amen'ca, 152 (l985), 249-53. For more extended treatments see: Claude Cuenot, Ta'lhard de Chardin: A Bio-

108

109

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

TRANSCENDENCE AND IMMANENCE

tered a religious order at the age of eighteen, was ordained a priest in 1912, and served as a stretcher-bearer during the First World War, earning the Military Medal and the Legion of Honor. His earlier studies in geology and mineralogy were followed by a doctorate at the Sorbonne in 1922. After a period of teaching at the Institut Catholique in Paris, he spent two and a half years in China. In 1926, he began twenty years of travel to the United States, Abyssinia, India, Burma, and Java. During the Second World War he spent six years in China and worked with the team headed by Davidson Black that discovered the skull of Peking Man. From 1948 until his death in 1955he worked at the WennerGren Foundation for Anthropological Research in New York City, interspersed with two visits to South Africa, where he was able to study the discoveries of Australopithecus. Meanwhile, he wrote a continual stream of articles on pa,leontology and evolution. He was a member of the French Academy of Sciences. In the early years of the century, Teilhard began writing articles in philosophy and theology, largely having to do with evolution. It was a time when religious circles, both within Roman Catholicism and in other denominations, were not open to evolution. For the rest of his life, his writings in these areas met with difficulties. For example, though his book The Divine Milieu was completed in 1927, it did not appear until twenty years later.2 During his lifetime, Teilhard tried to clarify his position and to dispel misunderstandings. By the Second Vatican Council, however, his name was no longer under a cloud. During the discussions on the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes, 1965), his name was mentioned four times, and some say that his spirit pervades the Constitution. It speaks of the importance of science, technology, and human development. Teihardian terms appear in it, such as: Christ is Omega and the goal of human history, and "the human race has passed from a rather static concept of reality to a more dynamic and evolutionary one."3

It is impossible to recapture the heady atmosphere of excitement in the English-speaking world, especially in the United States, that followed the publication in 1959 of Teilhard's The Phenomenon of Man. In the Introduction, Julian Huxley called it "a very remarkable work by a very remarkable human being.'74While in graduate studies, I had met Teilhard in 1947 when he conducted an informal discussion on evolution and theology for a small group of graduate students. Even then, his scientific knowledge, theological sensitivity, deep spirituality, and graciousness were evident. More than a decade later, when the Phenomenon appeared and I was now teaching philosophy, another group of graduate students and I, representing a wide variety of scientific p d humanistic disciplines, went through the book section by section in weekly meetings. Meanwhile, it was being discussed and argued in articles, books, and seminars by philosophers, theologians, and scientists. At this time, there was almost a "mystique," "cult," or "fad" aspect about Teilhard's writings. Everyone seemed to feel that he had something important to say, but many were not quite sure what it was. He was criticized by scientists for being too philosophical or theological, and by theologians or philosophers for being too scientific.Journalists seized upon his difficulties with Rome to create a "cloak and dagger" atmosphere, and some likened this situation to the Galileo affair. The Saturday Evening Post featured an article entitled, "The Priest Who Haunts the Catholic World," which highlighted the point that "his unorthodox theories" were creating "fierce controversy and influencing thousands, including some princes of his church meeting in R ~ m e . "It~was good copy and helped to attract attention and continue the discussion. The article to a large extent was faithful to the issues under controversy, though it did not sufficientlyhighlight the fact that some of Teilhard's statements on doctrinal matters were ambiguous, for example, regarding Christology, original sin and the problem of evil, and his interpretation of St. Paul almost exclusively in terms of evolution. The Neu Ymk Times also kept the pot boiling by occa-

graphical Study (Baltimore: Helicon, 1965); Mary Lukas and Ellen Lukas, Teihard (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1981). Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Le Milieu Divin (Paris: tditions du Seuil, 1957); The Divine Milieu,2nd ed., rev. (New York: Harper & Row, 1968). 9Thomas King, "The Milieux Teilhard Left Behind," Ammica, 152 (1985), 249-50.

-

-

-

Teilhard de Chardin, T h e P h e n m o n of Man, p. 11. John Kobler, "the Priest Who Haunts the Catholic World," The Saturday Evening Post, October 12, 1963, pp. 43-51.

110


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

siopal arti~les.~ ReZi@ous Humanism carried three articles on Teilhard, partially favorable, partially critical: praising his courage in stating his position in the face of opposition, and his vision of the Christian faith in an evolutionary context; citing his failure to substantiate his stand that evolution is tele~logical.~ Henri de Lubac, a repowned Catholic theologian, published an incisive w d highly favorable book on Teilhard's religious thought," while P. B. Medawar, Noble Prize winner in biology, wrote a strongly negative-even intemperate-review of the scientific aspects of Teilhard's Phenomenon, stating, among other things, that he "habitually and systematically cheats with words," practices an "unexacting kind of science," uses in one section a "fatuous argument," and engages in "silly little metaphysical c~nceits."~ Finally, Teilhard's name reached the headlines again in 1980 when Stephen Jay Gould, Harvard biologist, geologist, and science writer, implicated him in the "Piltdown Hoax," a long, tangled, and almost fictional "who dunnit."1° As is well known, in 1912 a skull of a modern human cranium and partial jawbone of an orangutan, claimed to be parts of the same individual, were "discovered" in Piltdown in Sussex, England. The bones were originally collected by Charles Dawson; three individuals, Arthur Smith Woodward, Grafton Elliot Smith, and Arthur Keith, all later knighted, were the chief proponents of the discovery. In 1953 the For example, "Vatican Censures Jesuit's Writings," The New Y d Times,July 1, 1962, p. 11. This was the warning, or monitum, from Rome that King spoke about in his article. ?Joseph LeSage Tisch, "Religion for the Space Age," H. J. Blackham, "A Meta~hvsicof Man," and Tohn G. Gill, "Teilhard and Religious Humanism," Relig& flumanism, 3 (l969), 161-72. Henri de Lubac, SJ., The Religion of Teihrd de Chardin, trans. Ren&Hague (New York: DesclCe, 1967). The original French versio~was La penske religiewe du P h Teilhard de Chardin (Paris: Editions Montaigne, 1962). P. B. Medawar, "Critical Notice," Mind, 70 (1961), 99-106. Medawar based much of his criticism of the Phenomenon on a mistranslation of dmoire sciatif;que as "scientific treatise,"which appeared in the English version. See The Phemnnelacm of Man, p. 29. Robert O'Connell goes a long way toward correcting +is meaning and also toward clanfylng Teilhard's entire method. See Robert J. O'Connell, s.J., Teilhard's Viszon of the Past: The Making of a Method (New York: Fordharn University Press, 1982). See also Joseph Donceel, s.J., "Teilhard de Chardin: Scientist or Philosopher?", International Philosuphical @arterb, 5 (1965), 248-66. lo Stephen Jay Gould, "The Piltdown Conspiracy," Natural History, 89 (August 1980), 2-28.

.

111

find was revealed to be a fraud, a human skull of about a few hundred years old having been joined with an orangutan's jaw and doctored. The search was on for the perpetrators of the hoax. Gould began his article with the following indictment: "I believe that a man who later became one of the world's most famous theologians, a cult figure for many years after his death in 1955, knew what Dawson was doing and probably helped in no small way-the French Jesuit priest and paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin."" Gould based his claim on the young Teilhard's acquaintance with Dawson and his visits to the excavation site, and on later correspondence. This led to a flurry of articles in the New York, Washington, and Boston papers, as well as others.12 Mary Lukas wrote a brief but informed defense of Teilhard.13 \ She ended her article with the following conclusion: It is 10 months now since Professor Gould threw down the gauntlet and said--out of what body of law I cannot imagine-that "the burden of proof now rests with those who believe Teilhard innocent." It is perhaps precisely because Mr. Gould's charge was so patently ridiculous to begin with that it has taken all of us so long to answer him within the parameters which he himself set.I4

In an extended study, Frank Spencer traced the history of the Piltdown affair.15His judgment on Gould's case against Teilhard was that, despite Gould's authoritative style and his claim that he had read all the official documents, it rests "precariously" on Teilhard's visit to the site two years before Dawson brought forth his findings and on Teilhard's statements in subsequent correspondence. Spencer claimed that the visit to the actual site and fossils is questionable and the later testimony ambiguous.l6 In any case, during the years following Teilhard's death, it has l1 Ibid., p. 2. I2For example, "Mastermind of Piltdown Hoax Unmasked?", The N m Ymk Times, August 5,1990, p. A1 & C6. lSMary Lukas, "Teilhard and the Piltdown 'Hoax,' " Amoica, 144 (1981), 424-27. l4 Ibid., 427. l5 Frank Spencer, Piltdown: A Scientij'ic Fbrgq (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990). See also his The Piltdown Papers: 1908-1955: The curresbondence and Other Documts Relating to the Piltdown ~ m ~ e r(New y York: 0xfor'd University Press, 1990). l6 Ibid., pp. 185-87.

112

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

been possible to assess his philosophical and theological writings with greater objectivity and balance. Though one sees fewer articles about him these days in scholarly books and journals or in the press, interest in him does not seem to have lessened to any great degree. In 1985, Thomas King wrote that "his complete religious-philosophical works were published in thirteen volumes," "he was translated into 16 languages, and his writings sold over a million copies in their first decade." Harper & Row, one of his publishers, reported "that during the past 10 years, The Phenomenon of Man has had a steady annual sale of 5,700 and The Divine Milieu 3,500. His influence continues."17 What were the reasons for the surprising-even stunningimpact upon the English-speaking world of the translation of the Phenomenon in 1955? I suppose each one will have one's own version of the events. I can only give my own at the time when I was still very early in my teaching career. Three reasons come immediately to mind. The first was the fact that a Catholic priest was writing favorably, even enthusiastically, about evolution. There was still a good deal of nervousness among religionists, e s pecially Roman Catholics, regarding evolution. Even where it was accepted on scientific grounds, there were many questions as to how it could be reconciled with some key theological doctrines. I can remember my own trepidations when, as a junior faculty member at a Catholic institution, I introduced Teilhard's writings into my courses, with the fear that I would be "censured" for my "novel" ideas.18 I could have spared myself this anxiety. As I reflect now over those days, I realize that I was being melodramatic. No one looked over my shoulder or bothered me in the least. Moreover, in 1963, Fordham led the way among Catholic universities and conducted a series of six lectures on Teilhard. The speaker was a Belgian Jesuit, Maurits Huybens, then European editor of International Philosophical Quarterly. Though the sessions were originally scheduled to be held in a seminar room for a small . audience, some five hundred students and professors appeared King, "The Milieux Teilhard Left Behind," p. 249. I owe more than I can express to my colleague and friend, the late Joseph Donceel, then a senior faculty member at Fordham University. In those days I considered him my mentor, since he introduced me to the philosophy of person, and especially to evolution and the thought of Teilhard. l7


113

from Fordham and nearby colleges, so that the lectures had to be moved to a large hall. Second, it was not only Teilhard's treatment of evolution that attracted attention but also what he said about its significancefor a philosophy of person. Third, perhaps more impressive were the connections that Teilhard made between religion, science, evolution, and the development of the human person. These acted as "an immense relief, a liberation," to use Dewey's words, for those religionists, Catholic and otherwise, who were trying to un~fya religious life with human life in the world. The amount of material that has been written by and about Teilhard is enormous and the number of topics that could be 'treated is quite large. A selection, therefore, will have to be made, and it is dictated by the purpose that is envisioned in this chapter, that is, to examine Teilhard's insights in facing the problems which he +xed with the pragmatists. Hence the order will be to follow up the second and third reasons given above for the acclaim given to Teilhard, namely, his own understanding of the meaning of evolution and its significance for a philosophy of person, and the connections he made between religion, evolution, science, and the human person. Also, attention for the most part will be given to his Phmomenon and The Divine Milieu, since these works bear more directly on the present purpose. Before embarking on that enterprise, however, something should be said about Teilhard's method. It has been alluded to earlier when it was stated that it was criticized by philosophers, theologians, and scientists alike, each group of thinkers from their own perspective. Something more will be added later, though the topic could be drawn out at great length without coming to any position which would satisfy all sides of the debate. Let the following suffice for the moment. F. G. Elliott declared firmly that "Teilhard's work is incontestably a philosophical one."lg He contended that every authentic philosophy is unique in its thought, method, and terminology. Elliott added that "it [Teilhard's work] is philosophical in the true and full sense of the word for the simple reason that it seeks

18

l9 F. G. Elliott, s.J., "The World-Vision of Teilhard de Chardin," International PhilosoPhical Quarterly, 1 (l96l), 621.

114


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

to answer the fundamental question: 'What is man?' and, above all, 'What is his future?' " Its uniqueness consists in the fact that Teilhard inserted the human being in history, both natural history and conventional history, considering its past, present, and future. In this sense, claimed Elliott, one can call his thought, as Teilhard himself does, "universal history." After a somewhat extended discussion of Teilhard's thought, however, Elliott came back to his original question and answered it in this way: Are his ideas scientific?Yes and no. His reflection starts from recent paleontological and other scientific discoveries. But he does not look at them according to their meaning for science but according to their meta-scientific signification. Was it not the same reflection Aristotle applied to his metaphysics? Are his ideas philosophical? Yes and no. His reasoning does not correspond to the abstract deductions from general premises that are in use in many philosophical systems. But he is striving to find the meaning of man in the world and the clue to his future. That is the final purpose of philosophical thinking. Is it theology? Not Scholastic theology, of course. But it is a way of looking at God, at the meaning of creation and salvation, at the person of Christ, which enables us to understand what it means that God is all in all, and that everything has been made through Christ, in Him, and for Him.20

Elliott's treatment is ambiguous, at best. He did not show that Teilhard developed a system that could be clearly identified as philosophical. He seemed to rely heavily on Teilhard's quest for the meaning of the human being and its future. He surely was on the right track when he claimed that Teilhard inserted this quest squarely in the context of history, perhaps more so than many philosophical systems. Such history is evolutionary, going through the past, present, and future; it begins with inorganic matter, moves to the biological level, on to the level of consciousness and reflection, then to person and community, and to God. Madeleine BarthClemy-Madaule is not much more helpful. She was trying to show how Teilhard's thought confronted Neo-Marxism and Existentiali~m.~~ To do that she felt it necessary to argue -

Ibid., p. 646-47. Madeleine Barthklemy-Madaule, "Teilhard de Chardin, Neo-Marxism, Exis tentialism: A Confrontation," International Philosophical Quarterly, 1 (1961), 648-67.

\

115

that a comparison of all three positions was possible on philosophical grounds. But the philosophical attitude demands a critical spirit that leaves the mind free "to think things through, even at the expense, if need be, of [one's] most cherished inclinations." Yet Teilhard's thought was filtered though his experience of the divine and hence seems not to be on the level "of a universally communicable experience." Nonetheless, BarthClemyMadaule defended the admissibility of Teilhard into a philosophical discussion, since he intended his ideas for all thinkers and he employed the language of reason. In addition, many of his works, including the Phenomenon, contain "an allembracing vision of man and the universe," and consequently have a philosophical dimension. It can be seen that, though these two commentators shed some light on the question of Teilhard's method, they also give clear indications of why the question is still highly controversial. The best book that I have yet seen on Teilhard's Phenomenon is that of Edward 0.Dodson, a biologist who claimed an affinity with Teilhard's scientific, philosophical, and religious c~mmitments.~~ He wrote a fine, well-balanced, critical but appreciative commentary on what the Phenomenon was about. I shall have occasion to refer to this volume several times as this chapter develops. For the moment, I shall make some comments on Dodson's view of Teilhard's method. It seems to me that Dodson made a fundamental yet not uncommon mistake of interpreting Teilhard's intention as that of writing a purely scientific work. This intention, claims Dodson, was an e m r , "in spite of the rich scientific background upon which he drew."23Dodson then gave reasons why the Phenomenon failed in its intent and had been criticized by scientists. One of the most essential aspects of sound scientific method is that conclusions must be testable by experiment and thus potentially disprovable. This is the property which has made modern science a selfcorrecting discipline and which has resulted in the extraordinary success of modern science. . . . The universal conviction

20

2'

22 Edward 0. Dodson, The Phenomenon of Man Revisited (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984). 23 Ibid., p. w. '

116


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

among scientists that experiment is the final arbiter is eventually asserted, and conclusions which cannot stand the test of experiment are rejected. Teilhard drew conclusion after conclusion which would seem to be beyond the possibility of experimental test. Such speculations may be necessary and important; they may even be correct; but they cannot be scientific, and t h & presentation in a book which is offered as pure science has undoubtedly Pqudiced many scientists against Tblhards' thesi.sZ4

In my view, Dodson's conclusion is correct, but his premise is false. Teilhard did not intend to write a purely scientific treatise, and it is a serious mistake to think that he did. However, Dodson's misinterpretation on this point was in the last analysis fortuitous. First of all, in describing what he felt Teilhard in fad wrote, he stated that "Teilhard has written a book which was not scientific in a strict sense but which could only have been written against the background of his scientific knowledge."Z5 Dodson then described the kind of book which he himself was writing. He professed that he would "speculate beyond the limits of experimental science from time to time," and that he would make it clear when he had done so. (The latter was not always true of Teilhard.) He claimed that his book was neither purely science nor philosophy. He added what I take to be a very close rendition of what Teilhard himself was doing. "If there is an intermediate category of philosophically oriented science or scientifically oriented philosophy, then that is where the present work [Dodson's] probably belongs.'726 Another reason why Dodson's misinterpretation was fortuitous is that, in the light of more recent developments in biology, he had occasion to criticize some of the scientific positions which Teilhard took, especially those regarding orthogenesis and direction in evolution. More will be said on these points shortly. At the risk of muddying the waters further, I would like to express my own view regarding Teilhard's method. Focusing on the Phenomenon, I would call it a philosophic reflection, illumined by theology and science. This could be said about much of his other Ibid., pp. xvi-xvii. Italics added. Ibid., pp. xiv-xv. 26 Ibid., p. x k

24

25

\

117

work, though there is a good deal that is theologically Christian and Catholic. I look upon him as engaging in the medieval thee logical and philosophical enterprise of "fides quaerens intellectum," "faith seeking understanding." He undertook his intellectual task with a particular religious commitment, with a certain set of religious beliefs. But he drew upon evolution and human reason to substantiate them. Just as Augustine attempted to express his faith in Platonic terms, and Thomas Aquinas in Aristotelian terms, so Teilhard went to evolution, almost exclusively, to learn what it could tell him about the development of the human being from its earliest beginnings to its emergence as human and to its future social, scientific, and religious develop ment. In this sense, his theology was a lamp lighting the way, but leaving him free to draw information and direction from many sources. In his view, a full picture of the human person could not be given individually by theology, philosophy, or science alone. All three are needed and should be drawn into a synthesis to give a complete account. For all that, in my view it was the religious question that was most influential in his thought, and it gave direction to the path that he followed and to the many questions that he raised. There are several statements of Teilhard at the end of the Phenomenon that would seem to go counter to my own interpretation of the religious influence on his thought. After showing that the whole construction of the world reveals the great presence of God, the supreme Someone, the personal being to Whom the whole of evolution is tending, he maintained that at this point one sees the importance gf the Christian Phenomenon. He commented: As I am living at the heart of the Christian world, I might be suspected of wanting to introduce an apologia by artifice. But here again, so far as it is possible for a man to separate in himself the various planes of knowledge, it is not the convinced believer but the naturalist who is askingfor a hearing [PM 292. Italics added].27

Further: "In the presence of such perfection in coincidence,even if I were not a Christian but only a man of science, I think I would 27 All references to The Phaomenolz of Man are to the 1965 English translation and are included in the text as PM, with page number.

18

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

sk myself this question [regarding the Christian phenomenon] " PM 299). I find these statements more than a little exaggerated. 'irst of all, it would seem extremely difficult for one to place oneAf in a totally different religious framework and then to specuite how one would think within that framework. Then too, I find iis doubly difficult in the case of an intensely spiritual and reliious man like Teilhard. I have no doubt that he was serious in is claim:, I .,iust do not see how it could have been actualized. In kddition, people like Augustine or Aquinas did not hide their religious commitment, nor did they try to act as ifthey were not Christians. This was true even of Aquinas, who is generally credited by his followers with being the first medieval thinker to make a sharp distinction between theology and philosophy. In fact, they consciously philosophized in the light of their faith, which, of course, is the reason why their subsequent adherents have had to wrestle with the question as to whether a Christian philosophy was possible. For all that, in the minds of many the tenuous relationship between philosophy and theology is sufficient to exclude Teilhard's thought from philosophical discussion, just as in the minds of many contemporaries the "fides quaerens intellecturn" is sufficient to exclude medieval speculation. This has long been an obstacle to a recognition of the legitimacy of medieval philosophy. Twenty-five or thirty years ago there was much debate about whether or not there was, or could be, a "Christian philosophy." One sees this question argued much less these days, whether because it has been settled, exhausted, or dismissed as irrelevant. It is interesting to note that, at Harvard and Yale during +e eighteenth century, it was debated whether or not therd could be an ethical theory independent of theology. Harvard, perhaps because it was more liberal in its theology, was more willing to grant the separation, while Yale at various stages held that virtue was impossible without a belief in God, divine faith, or the special effect of grace. At one point Yale even claimed that philosophy itself "to the greatest extent has been an obstacle to and a pernicious influence on natural and revealed religion, and on human virtue and happiness"! 28 z8 Robert J.

Roth, s.J., "The Philosophical Background of New England Puri-


119

In any case, for many the relation between philosophy and theology excludes it from serious consideration. And that is particularly true of medieval philosophy. The bias toward any connection between philosophy and religion may be the reason why, thirty or forty years ago, little was said about the reIigious theory of the American pragmatists. That gap has long since been filled, and there are discussions aplenty about it. Moreover, I think it can be stated that their religious backgrounds affected the pragmatists, either positively or negatively or both. They came to philosophy with a definite religious mind-set and as a result had some good things to say about religion which are provocative even for those who come from a definite religious framework. One recent example is Steven C. Rockefeller'sJohn Dm?: Religious Faith and D m @ cratic Humanism. The volume traces Dewey's experience with religion from his earliest years to his full development of democratic humanism. In my own review of this volume, I pointed out the insights that are available to one from another religious tradition, even though I myself am opposed to many aspects of Dewey's religious thought. Hence I wrote: To read Dewey's religious theory from a fresh perspective is to provide inspiration, not only to the humanist who is looking for meaning in human life, but also to the believer who can become immersed anew in the message of religion and can find new depths that perhaps have become obscured. So Rockefeller has done a service to all of us in helping us to see Dewey's thought in a new light. Perhaps, too, the beliexer and non-believer alike will be encouraged to come to the realization that God and religion are not obstacles to a full life but the very milieu in which that life may be lived.2g

It is this kind of approach that I hope will be engendered by a consideration of Teilhard, even though one may find that there is much to debate and criticize in his thinking. In my view, the tanism," Intenzatimal Philosophical Quarterb, 10 (1970), 586. This article deals with the teaching of philosophy at Harvard and Yale from their beginnings until the early nineteenth century. 29 Robert J. Roth, s.J., "Feature Book Review," Internatiml Philosophical Quarterly, 33 (1993), 122. This is a review of Steven C. Rockefeller, John Dewey: Religious Faith and Democratic Humanism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991).

120


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

life.30His position was that it is not enough to look at the whence of evolution, its physical and biological origins, but also the whereunto, where conscious and human life was going. In this sense, evolution has moved from physical to human development in which "evolution has become conscious of itself," as Julian Huxley expressed it. The second consideration is that evolution cannot be understood without the human species. Teilhard was aware that under an older cosmology the human being was considered to be the center of our world, and our world the center of the universe. The discovery of the vast number and distances of the heavenly bodies and the shrinking size of our globe has shattered that picture. "It was only really in the time of Galileo, through the rup ture with the ancient geocentric view, that the skies were made free for the boundless expansions which we have since detected in them. The earth became a mere speck of sidereal dust. Immensity became possible, and to balance it the infinitesimal sprang into existence" (PM 217). All this would seem to minimize, even trivialize, the place of humans in this cosmology. But Teilhard was not daunted by this picture; in fact, in terms of evolution he saw it as a revelation of an even more important place that the human species holds. "In such a vision man is seen not as a static centre of the world-as he for long believed himself to be-but as the axis and leading shoot of evolution, which is something much finer" (PM 36). In this regard, man all along has been that to which evolution was leading and through which it will continue develop. Again: "Man is not the centre of the universe as once we thought in our simplicity, but something much more wonderful-the arrow pointing the way to the final unification of the world in terms of life. Man alone constitutes the last-born, the freshest, the most complicated, the most subtle of all the successive layers of life" (PM 224). Fundamental to Teilhard's view of evolution was that it is teleological, it has a direction. This in turn is related to his distinction

crucial test in reading the work of a thinker is not mainly what one finds wrong with it, but what one can assimilate into one's own framework, be that philosophical, religious, or any other. Otherwise, valuable insights that could be helpful will be missed. But to return to evolution, which was dominant in Teilhard's thinking on almost every topic. He claimed that one "might well become impatient or lose heart at the sight of so many minds (and not mediocre ones, either) remaining today still closed to the idea of evolution" were it not for the fact that it keeps imposing itself on our consciousness (PM 218). He added: Blind indeed are those who do not see the sweep of a movement whose orbit infinitely transcends the natural sciences and has successively invaded and conquered the surrounding territorychemistry, physics, sociology and even mathematics and the history of religions. One after the other all the fields of human knowledge have been shaken and carried away by the same under-water current in the direction of the study of some develqbments. Is evolution a theory, a system or a hypothesis?It is much more; it is a general 1 condition to which all theories, all hypotheses, all systems must bow and which they must satisftr henceforward if they are to be thinkable and true. Evolution is a light illuminating all facts, a curve that all lines must follow [PM 2191.

This statement, I am sure, will be thought to be extreme by scholars of other disciplines who might chance to read it. In any case, it indicates how important evolution was in Teilhard's thinking. From my own reading, I find that the more Teilhard immersed himself in evolution, the more he came to two considerations: man (here used in the anthropological sense) cannot be understood without evolution and in turn evolution cann6t be understood without man. Regarding the first, he stated: "To grasp the truly cosmic scale of the phenomenon of man, we had to follow its roots through life, back to when the earth first folded in on itself. But if we want to understand the specific nature of man and divine his secret, we have no other method than to observe what reflection has already provided and what it announces ah&" (PM 190). This statement occurred after he had traced the development of the human species from previous life forms and when he was about to describe the development of the person through the growth of intelligent, scientific, social, spiritual, and religious

121

.,

30 The past and future of man were described in two books: The Vision of the Past, trans.J . M . Cohen (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), originally La ztisim du pmsie (Paris: ~ditionsdu Seuil, 1957) and The Future of Man, trans. Noman Denny (New York: Harper & Row, 1964), originally L'Avenir de L'homme (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1959).

1

122

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

between analysis and synthesis. The former he called "that marvelous instrument of scientific research to which we owe all our advances." But he added that in the end it leaves us "confronted with a pile of dismantled machinery, and evanescent particles" (PM 257-58). That is why, in looking at human evolution, he wanted us to consider the whole phenomenon. He had great respect for analysis. As a scientist, he used it. But he felt that science builds up its knowledge only while breaking down reality and our understanding of it. Analysis is only one operation of the mind; it is the most fruitful for dealing with the elements, but if it is taken alone, our understanding of the universe, of the whole phenomenon, is limited. One must, therefore, approach reality in a deeper and more synthetic manner and consider reality as a whole. The scientist who is content to use only analysis fragments nature. According to Teilhard, this was the error of nineteenth-century science. It resulted in the cult of matter, and this included human beings. In Teilhard's view, the time had come to reverse the process, to move from an analytic to a synthetic approach, to shatter the false principle that the secret of things lies in their elements, as if we can best comprehend the world by concentrating on its simplest components. From a similar perspective, the thought of the pragmatists was characterized by a disdain for an atomistic view of knowledge and reality as it was embodied in classical empiricism. Peirce developed his Synechism by which on the one hand he denied that facts are isolated, atomic, unrelked; this would be "a barrier across the road of science." Brute facts would be unintelligible, preventing our attempts to understand phenomena (CP 6.171). On the contrary, things are to be considered ih a system (CP 1.424), in a continuity of events that can be understood as being generalized in a law (CP 6.173).James criticized Hume's "barren 'looseness and separateness' of everything" and "the empirical sand-heap world" (WB 59-61). Dewey dismissed "sensationalisticempiricism" with its "heap of chaotic and isolated particles" and sensations received separately and passively. Instead, he proposed his notion of experience as an interaction between the organism and its environment in which both are transformed (MW 12: 12729). In other words, genuine knowledge and reality do not reside in the elements but in their unity and in their synthesis into inte-


123

grated wholes. The full meaning of a fact is understood only in its unity and continuity with what went before and with what will follow, its whence and whereunto. This view, I am convinced, was at the heart of Teilhard's theory of evolution and its relation to the human person. The full meaning of evolution cannot be understood without reference to the L arrow," the human branch, that continued to emerge from initial chaos, sometimes by false starts and sometimes by blind alleys. Through it all, the progress of evolution continued onward until there emerged the human being, one species, which stands at the peak of the evolutionary process and constitutes its crowning moment. In Teilhard's view, then, evolution itself does not make full sense without the human species, that to which the interminably long and complicated process constantly struggled and which is its culmination. On the other hand, the human species cannot be fully understood without evolution. Human kind did not emerge independently of natural biological processes and the environment. Nor will the human person maintain itself as person and continue to develop without its relation to its surroundingsphysical, social, cultural, religious. This is what Teilhard meant by his insistence on both analysis and synthesis. The one helps us to understand the individual steps by which the human species emerged, and the other gives a perspective of past, present, and future as illuminating our understanding of what a person is and can become. In short, Teilhard stresses the whob phenomenon, man as the center and immersed in "a coherent order between antecedents and consequents." Without this, he did not see how "a full and coherent account of the phenomenon of man" was possible (PM 29-30). This brings us back to Tellhard's position that evolution has a direction. In the Phenomenon, he stated his conviction, "strictly undemonstrable to science, that the universe has a direction and that it could-indeed, if we are faithful, it shoult0-result in some sort of irreversible perfection" (PM 284). In this statement, he included not only evolution up to the present but also its future progress in humans as manifested especially in religion and science (PM 285). At the same time, he gave full recognition to the role of the struggle for life as manifested in the "survival of the fittest by natural selection." He also realized that almost all 6

124

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

biologists denied that life is "going anywhere" (PM 141), and he indicated the disagreements among biologists and paleontologists-for example, neo-Darwinians and neo-Lamarckians regarding the mechanisms involved in life's transformations (PM l4Onl). For all that, he held that a purely scientific treatment of the mechanisms of evolution failed to give a final explanation (PM 109). For that, the notion of "orthogenesis"was needed. Edward Dodson, from his own interpretation of the Phenomenon as a purely scientific work, faulted Teilhard's use of a Lamarckian view of evolution and orthogenesis. He claimed that, scientifically, Mendelian genetics and Darwinian natural selection are more valid. Hence one major purpose of Dodson's book is "to investigate whether, as I think probable, it may not be possible to develop Teilhard's major thesis [the writing of a purely scientific work?] as eBectively on a Darwinian-Mendelian basis as he did on an orthogenetic-lamarckian basis.'731According to Dodson, "Lamarckism is the idea that the environment induces those variations which are most adaptive to it and that such adaptations, acquired during the lifetime of the individual (as opposed to mutations of genes) are then inherited by the ~ f f s p r i n g . "As ~ ~Dodson acknowledged, Teilhard was aware of the controversy regarding Lamarckism. But he thought that it could be reconciled with Darwinism. According to Dodson, "in terms of cultural evolution [the level of human consciousness], this can be accepted, but at the lower levels, Darwinian natural selection . . . is sufficient to explain the re~ults."~Wodson claimed that Teilhard seems to have opted for Lamarckism because it indicated direction in evolution, and this interpretation may well be correct. But Dodson also cites experiments by biologists on'plants and animals regarding the inheritance of acquired characteristics and mutations in organisms which generally rule out Lamarckian inheritance below the cultural level. The same can be said of experiments by molecular biologists on the "informational macromolecules" whose structure encodes hereditary inforrnati~n.~~ Dodson, The P h m o m o n of Man Reuisited, p. xviii. 147-50. "Ibid., p. 149. s4 Ibid., p. 150.

31

32 Ibid., pp.


125

"Orthogenesis," according to Dodson, "is the idea that evolution follows a predetermined course to an inevitable end.'735 Teilhard wrote optimistically of orthogenesis as "the only dynamic and complete form of heredity" (PM 108). It accounts for the fact that evolution followed an ascending scale of life and did not merely spread out along the same lines. Nevertheless, Teilhard included the role of groping and a "billionfold trial and error." Dodson thinks this to be incompatible with direction and that natural selection is a more probable explanation. Furthermore, he tried to show that the data on some animals which were thought to give evidence of a directed process are either inconclusive or can be explained by natural selection. Lastly, according to Dodson, "nowhere does he [Teilhard] spec* the nature of the directive force. He seems simply to have accepted it as a funciamental property of matter" (PM 108-109) .36This is not quite correct, since it seems apparent that for Teilhard the directive force is the final end, a personal God, called the "Omega Point," which draws the evolutionary process to its perfection (PM 263, 269, 2'71). This will be discussed later. Something similar to this can be found in Whitehead, though not fiom the evolutionary perspective of a Teilhard. Whitehead calls God, viewed as primordial, by several names: unlimited conceptual realization of the absolute wealth of potentiality, the lure of feeling, the eternal urge of desire, the initial "object of desire" establishing the initial phase of each subjective aim.37If this comparison between Teilhard and Whtehead seems too jarring, I would be willing to withdraw it, but to me the juxtaposition of the two positions is not too far out of line. Two things should be noted regarding Dodson's criticisms. First, they were made from the standpoint of a biologist judging a work presumably written on purely scientific grounds. From this standpoint, the criticisms, while perhaps not conclusive, are surely worthy of careful consideration. But, secondly, in spite of these reservations, Dodson, now from his own intention of writing a "philosophically oriented science or scientifically oriented phiIbid. Ibid. 37 Alfred North Whitehead, Proms and Reality: A n Essay in Cosmology (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1960), pp. 521-22. 35

36

126

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


losophy," in the main endorsed Teilhard's speculations, and indeed was enthusiastic about them. In this, Dodson was more faithful to the purpose that Teilhard himself actually had in mind. Joseph Donceel has given a description of what Teilhard meant by orthogenesis, and in his discussion of it distinguished more carefully than Dodson did between science and philosophy. Just before he died, Teilhard defined it as follows: "That (so much discussed) word being, of course, taken in a most general etymological meaning of directed transformation (in whatever degree and under whatever possible influence that 'direction' may become visible)."38 Donceel added his own comment.

rected" evolution along with evolution as a scientific process by appealing to a double level of causality, one formal, dealing with the whole phenomenon of evolution as an integration of parts, the other as efficient causality, dealing with the parts themselves. This is analogous to Teilhard's distinction between the synthetic and analytic. Nonetheless, Donceel pointed out what he took to be an ambiguity in Teilhard's method. In 1930, Teilhard followed the usual procedure of distinguishing between scientific and philosophical explanations. By 1955, he seems to have widened his conception of pure science so as to bring science and philosophy closer together without uniting them into one discipline. To support his position, Donceel quoted a text from the Phenomenon: "If this book is to be properly understood, it must be read not as a work on metaphysics, still less as a sort of theological essay, but purely and simply as a scientific treatise [memoire]" (PM 29). There is another text which, I think, seems to illustrate this interpretation of Teilhard's standpoint even more forcefully.

Teilhard wishes to show that the development of the various living species is not merely a case of simple divmsiJ;catim, it is also an instance of oriented intensijication. Evolution cannot be explained by chance, by the accidental clash of countless factors. Teilhard admits without any difficulty that "large numbers" are at work and that much may be explained by chance and obeys the laws of statistics. But he maintains that in all these happenings there is a "preferential direction," a certain "drift" upwards, a "trend" towards increasing complexityconsciousness. And he does not hesitate to affrm that "whether it wishes to or not, Paleontology is, and can only become, more and more, the science of Orthogene~is."~~

Donceel then went on to show that a scientific view of evolution is confined,and properly so, to the sense data and to the scientific mechanisms of evolution. The ~ i e n t i swho t strays from the empirically verifiable data would cease to be a scientist. But, argued Donceel, "Evolution is mme than a sum m series, it is a living totality. The totality is more than the sum of its parts."40This is consistent with Teilhard's position. Moreover, the latter held that the development of life is "a synthetic force of a higher order than that of physicochemical forces-capable of coordinating the latter and influencing them without ever breaking up or bending their determinism~."~~ Donceel defended Teilhard's espousal of "dim Donceel, "Teilhard de Chardin: Scientist or Philosopher"?,p. 248. Donceel used the French texts and provided his own translations. See Teilhard, Oeuvres (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1957), 111, 384. s9 Ibid., Teilhard, Oeuwes, 111, 390. Ibid., p. 249. 41 Teilhard, Oeuvres, 111, 13435. Donceel, "Teilhard de Chardin," p. 251.

127

The time has come to realise that an interpretation of the universe-mm a positivist me-remains unsatisfying, unless it covers the interior as well as the exterior of things; mind as well as matter. The true physics is that which will, one day, achieve the inclusion of man in his wholeness in a coherent picture of the world [PM 3536. Italics added]. ,--

This seems to be Teilhard's final position, and Donceel did not agree with it. He believed that a sharper distinction should be maintained between science and philosophy. I am inclined to adopt the same opinion. Teilhard himself tended toward this view in the Phenomenon, when he stated that science cannot demonstrate a direction in evolution. This ambiguity in Teilhard regarding the role of the scientist and philosopher is one that is still open to further debate. Nonetheless, it seems clear that, in arguing for direction in evolution and for other positions in its regard, Teilhard did not confine himself to science in the conventional sense. It is time now to consider some of the specific points of Teilhard's thought. But first, the Phenomenon is not an easy book to read. One must be somewhat familiar with philosophy, science,

128

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

and religion. In addition, his style is intimidating, since he either used unfamiliar terms or coined new ones. The reader must become acquainted with a new vocabulary. Yet this is true of the writings of most great thinkers; for example, in philosophy: Aristotle's and Aquinas' matter and form, act and potency; Kant's transcendental aesthetic, paralogism, and antinomy; Whitehead's prehension, concrescence, and a primordial and consequent God; Peirce's abduction, tychism, synechism, and agapasm. So we have Teilhard's within and without, complexity-consciousness, noosphere, and Omega Point. I shall try to make these terms as understandable as I can for those not familiar with them, and to offer insights for those acquainted with them. Teilhard stated that his book was not to be read as a work on metaphysics (PM 29). Yet in a certain sense it is, if by metaphysics one means roughly a treatment of the generic traits of existence. At the beginning of his discussion Teilhard noted the disputes that have taken place in the past hundred years between materialists and spiritualists, finalists and determinists. So far as I understand the struggle, in which I have found myself involved, it seems to me that its prolongation depends less on the difficulty that the human mind finds in reconciling certain apparent contradictions in nature-such as mechanism and liberty, or death and immortality-as in the difficulty experienced by two schools of thought in finding a common ground. On the one hand the materialists insist on talking ab-but objects as though they only consisted of external actions in transient relationships. On the other hand the upholders of a spiritual interpretation are obstinately determined not to go outside a kind of solitary introspection in which things are only looked upon as being shut in upon themselves in their 'immanent' workings. Both fight on different planes and do not meet; each only sees half the problem [PM 531.

Teilhard proposed that the two positions be brought into union, so that "the internal aspect of things as well as the external aspect of the world will be taken into account." Otherwise, one whole cosmic phenomenon will not be unified by one coherent explanation. To explain his meaning, he used various terms, all converging on the same point. Hence he proposed two aspects of reality, the within and the without. The without is the reality, and the only


129

one, which is recognized by the physicist who considers exclusively the way things affect one another externally. The bacteriologist can manage on the same level. But with plants, this exclusive view is more difficult; it is futile regarding vertebrates; "it breaks down completely with man, in whom the existence of a within can no longer be evaded, because it is the object of direct intuition and the substance of all knowledge" (PM 55). In speaking of the within, Teilhard is saying that, as we ascend the scale of matter from the inanimate to the human, there is a growing degree of consciousness commensurate with a growing complexity of parts. This phenomenon he called "complexity-consciousness." Teilhard used other terms to explain his point. Thus he stated that the primary category of reality is energy. It is not identical with energy in the physical sense. It is, rather, "psychic in nature" - (PM 64). A serious misunderstanding was generated in the first English edition of the Phenomenon when the translator used the world "physical." The French word is clearly "psychique." But, though consisting of one category, energy is twofold. The one is energy as such, tangential energy, "as generally understood by science" and measurable by the physicist. It "links the element with all others of the same order" (PM 65), it is outgoing, according to efficient causality. The second is "radial energy which draws [the element] toward ever greater complexity and centricity-in other words forwards" (PM 65). This consists in the growth of consciousness. In calling all energy psychique, Teilhard gave rise to the opinion that he was some kind of panpsychist. But he was well aware of the uniqueness of consciousness as we experience it in ourselves as humans and as we observe its manifestations in higher animals. As one goes down the scale of matter, the existence of conscious life as we know it becomes rudimentary, murky, and finally nonobservable. As I understand him, what he is saying is that, ifevolution took place as a continuous process from inorganic matter to humans, there must have been at least the potential for consciousness in the former in order that it might emerge at a later stage. This is especially the case if, as Teilhard claimed, the rise of consciousness in developing matter was consistent with the internal complexity of its elements. It is true that ''consciousness is com-

130

131

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


pletely evident only in man." Yet that does not tell the whole story.

era" (PM 157).*2In other animal forms, the nervous system and instinct developed but they were arrested and these animals became prisoners of limited activities. Primates are important because they give evidence "of +re and direct cerebralisation" such that "evolution went straight to work on the brain, neglecting everything else, which accordingly remained malleable. That is why they are at the head of the upward and onward march towards greater consciousness" (PM 159-60).This, claimed Teilhard, enables us to put aside all other criteria regarding the "superiority" of one type of animal over another and of man over animals. Attention should be directed to levels of consciousness until the highest kind, the central phenomenon, is reached in reflection (PM 164-65). And this he explained as follows.

It is impossible to deny that, deep within ourselves, an 'interior' appears at the heart of beings, as it were seen through a rent. This is enough to ensuge that, in one degree or another, this 'interior' should obtrude itself as existing everywhere in nature from all time. Since the stuff of the universe has an inner aspect at one point of itself, there is necessarily a doubk aspect to its structure, that is to say in every region of space and time-in the same way, for instance, as it is granular; co-extensive with their Without, t h e is a Within to things [PM 561. In Teilhard's view, if one looks only at the without of things, or their tangential energy, as science does, one sees evolution as merely a series of outward changes with no criteria for judging the relative advancing perfection of forms, for example, in a rose, a bee, a mammal, a human. There are differences only on the external level. On the contrary, evolution can be seen to have a direction toward more advanced and privileged forms. By this Teilhard meant that there is a mutual relationship between the within and the without, in other words, an increase in complexityconsciousness. "The essence of the real, I said [in previous chap ters] , could well be represented by the 'interiority' contained by the universe at a given moment. In that case evolution would fundamentally be nathing else than a continual growth of this 'psychic' or 'radial' energy, in the course'of duration, beneath and within the mechanical energy I called 'tangential' " (PM 143). The increased complexification gives rises to an increased centricity or "a continual expansion and deepening of consciousness." In speaking of the growth of consciousness, Teilhard pointed to two developments of increasing complexity within the animal. The ane is cephalizaton, or the concentration of the nervous system and sense organs in the head; the other is cerebralisation, or the increasing elaboration and convolution of the brain (PM 143-60). The crucial stage was reached with the primates; "their hour has come, and we see how they can and should take their entrance at that fateful moment towards the end of the Tertiary )

From our experimentalpoint of view, reflection is, as the word indicates, the power acquired by a consciousness to turn in upon itself, to take possession of itself as of an object endowed with its own particular consistence and value: no longer merely to know, but to know that one knows [PM 1651. This ability to double back on oneself raises the being to a whole new sphere. The limit of an animal is to know, but not to know that it knows. Morphologically, the difference between human and subhuman is slight, but finally a critical threshold is reached, like water that reaches a boiling point. By a tiny 'tangential' increase, the 'radial' was turned back on itself and so to speak took an infinite leap forward. Outwardly, almost nothing in the organs changPd. But in depth, a great revolution had taken place: consciousness wqs now leaping and boiling in a space of super-sensory relationships and representations; and simultaneously consciousness was capable of perceiving itself in the concentrated simplicity of its faculties. And all this happened for the first time [PM 1691.

With this ability came the power of the human mind for "abstraction, logic, reasoned choice and inventions, mathematics, art, cal42Teilhard'schronology of the primates and the dating of the various subhuman and human forms would have to be adjusted and set back quite a bit earlier than he supposed. Since the years in which he was doing his own research, more fossil remains are being continually unearthed and improved dating methods developed. .

132


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

mechanism, the birth of thought, like that of life, presents itself and defines itself" (PM 169). By reflection, "we are not only different but quite other. It is not merely a matter of change of degree, but of a change of nature, resulting from a change of state" (PM 166). In this, he maintained that the human being has an immaterial component which is radically different fiom any physical element. Since the human came silently into the world (PM 184), it is dimcult to identlfy precisely the forms which can certainly be designated as capable of reflection. Teilhard discussed Pithecanthropus, Sinanthropus, and Neanderthal man.44He claimed that Pithecanthropus and Sinanthropus had very probably crossed the threshold of reflection. Sinanthropus, he maintained, worked stones and made fire. "Until disproved, those two accomplishments must be considered on the same level as reflection" (PM 196). These criteria may be debatable, and he should have stated that these activities reveal rather than consist in reflection. Teilhard himself admitted the possibility of doubt regarding Pithecanthropus and Sinanthropus. But regarding the Neanderthals, Teilhard stated that there is no serious doubt about their being the vestiges of our own race. The development of their brain, the paintings found in caves, "and for the first time those incontestable cases of burial-everything goes to show that we are in the presence of true man" (PM 198). The important point, however, is the criterion he used to judge true man, homo sapiens sapiens, including the one species that remains, man "like us." Though the change in the "without" or "tangential energy" of the pre-reflective forms may have been slight, a threshold of the "within" or "radial energy" had been crossed and a chasm had been leaped-a d i s continuity of consciousness within a continuity of physical conditions. With the advent of reflection, evolution did not cease; rather, it has since then "overflowed its anatomical modalities to spread,

culation of space and time, anxieties and dreams of love" (PM 165). This ability of a human being has been expressed by W. Norris Clarke under the heading of "self-consciousness." Human beings are able not only to act and to know things, but to know that they are acting, to know they are knowing, to know their own selves as the source or agent of their actions, in a word, to say meaningfully "I." . . . It means that the actor, the speaker, totally coincides with what it knows, its own self, as agent. The knower and the object known are totally identical, without the slightest spatial or temporal distance or distinction between them, without any distinction of spatially extended parts, such as make up a body, parts which are always connected to each other with some space-time interval, across space and time, never totally simultaneous with each other.43 Clarke maintained that this power transcends the powers of sense organs. These latter are distinct from the object and perceive only sensible objects; they cannot double back on themselves and catch their own selves as perceiving. " There are no data anywhere in the immense intricate constant flow of neuron impulses in the brain that can be identified materially as the "I" looking at this data and knowing it is looking at it all as a unity." A physical organ cannot step back from itself to know organ as organ, or to know itself as using an organ or knowing through it. "Material bodies cannot totally interpenetrqe each other so as to coincide spatidly and temporally with each other." An agent that can totally coincide with itself transcends space-time distinctions. "Only a non-material knowing power can know itself identically at the same moment as both knower and known." In any case, Teilhard believed that he had bridged the gap between the spiritualists and materialists: the former correctly arguing for the transcendence of humans over the rest of nature, the latter equally correct in stressing their immanence in nature as an advanced term in the development of animals. And yet, he altered radically the dictum of science that all nature is discontinuous. "Discontinuity in continuity: that is how, in the theory of its 43 W. Norris Clarke, s.J., "The Human Person: A Philosophical Exploration," p. 2'7. Unpublished Manuscript. Quoted with permission of the author.

133

.

* The age and average cranial capacity of these humans may be given as follows, due allowances being made for varied opinions among paleontologists: ~; Pithecanthropus (Java man), circa 1 million to 500,000years ago, 1 , 0 0 0 ~Sinanthropus (Peking man), c. 500,000 to 350,000 years ago, 1 , 0 4 0 ~Neanderthals, ~; c. 125,000-40,000 years, 1 , 3 5 0 ~The ~ . cranial capacity of humans living today is on the average of 1 , 3 5 0 ~ ~ .

134


RADICAL PRAGMATISM

or perhaps even to transplant its main thrust into the zone of psychic spontaneity both individual and collective" (PM 203). It was on the collective, or better, social level that evolution reached its highest point. Another boundary was crossed, leading human beings into an evolution that had become conscious of itself. It was the evolution of socialization. On the evolutionary scale it came relatively late, following millions of years of slow develop ment from the first hominid forms. It began during the Neolithic Age, about ten thousand years ago. "From Neolithic time onward the influence of psychical factors begins to outweigh-and by far-the variation of everdwindling somatic factors" (PM 208). Teilhard took a rapid look at the development of humans from that age to modern times (PM 203-15). The factors that went into that development were many: agriculture, the raising of cattle, communal and juridical procedures, political and cultural units, property, morals, marriage, the making and improvement of tools, tradition and collective memory, a sense of history, increased travel and communication, economic and industrial changes, the growth of scientific research. Most important of all, however, was the fact that evolution had reached the psychic zone of thought, which he called ' noogenesis," in which "man discovers that he is nothing else than euolution become conscious of h e & to borrowJulian Huxley's striking expression" (PM 221). Man was now not the center of the universe but something more importaqt: the arrow leading human evolution, noogenesis, to more exalted heights. If I read Teilhard correctly, he was claiming that humans have the responsibility of cooperating in that ongoing process. We see here similaritieswith Peirce's claim that, for all our "miserable littlenesses," we are all contributing to the endeavor of bringing civilization to its completion, with James's invitation to join together in working for the salvation of all, and with Dewey's contention that human beings have the moral responsibility to engage in activities with others for the good of all. Teilhard was thus developing his own evolutionary version of person and community. But there are obstacles in the way of this challenging enterprise, a "modern disquiet." It is an anxiety that comes with the advent of reflection and that is heightened in modern times. Conscious or not, anguish-a fundamental anguish of beingb

b4

-\

135

despite our smiles, strikes in the depths of all our hearts and is the undertone of all our conversations" (PM 227). He attributed it, first, to the "malady of space-time" before the enormous cosmos that has been discovered and which threatens to overwhelm us. Humans have lost their bearings, their old beliefs have been shaken, even their assurances about the future are in doubt. Tomorrow? But who can guarantee us a tomorrow anyway? And without the assurance that this tomorrow exists, can we really go on living, we to whom has been given-perhaps for the first time in the whole story of the universe-the terrible gift of foresight? Sickness of the dead end-the anguish of feeling shut in [PM 2291.

What is it that is required in order that evolution will reach a "suitable outcome" and not come to a dead end, leading to the self-abortion and absurdity of evolution? The one route that Teilhard rejected was isolation, the separation of individuals from each other. He likened this to the dust of "active, dissociated particles" in substances (PM 237). The roundness of the earth has prevented humankind, as all other beings, from spreading out and dissipating their development. For human beings, the conditions were present, especially since the Neolithic era, to form societies in mutual cooperation toward mutual goals. In society, they have the potential of achieving their full development as persons. People looked upon the nineteepth century as the threshold of a Golden Age, "lit up and organised by science and warmed by fraternity" (PM 254). Unfortunately, this hope was unfulfilled, for society slipped back into "tragic dissension," where conflict rather than unity has been the result. But there is no reason for discouragement. "After all half a million years, perhaps a million, were required for life to pass from the pre-hominids to modem man. Should we now start wringing our hands because, less than two centuries after glimpsing a higher state, modern man is still at loggerheads with himself?" (PM 255). The needed ingredient in social relationships is love. Teilhard claimed that in a full biological sense, "love-that is to say, the affinity of being with being-is not peculiar to man. It is a general property of all life and as such embraces, in its varieties and degrees, all the forms successively adopted by organised matter" (PM 264). This position is analogous to the one he adopted when

136

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

speaking of conscious life. However, it reaches its full flowering in human beings wherein they are brought together in the most complete way. Love alone is capable of uniting living beings in such a way as to complete and fulfil them, for it alone takes them and joins them by what is deepest in themselves. This is a fact of daily experience. At what moment do lovers come into the most complete possession of themselves, if not when they say they are lost in each other? In truth, does not love every instant achieve all around us, in the couple or the team, the magic feat, the feat reputed to be contradictory, of 'personalising' by totalising? And if that is what it can achieve daily on a small scale, why should it not repeat this one day on world-wide dimensions? [PM 2651.

Personalizing and totalizing-by this phrase Teilhard was asserting two things. First, on the negative side, he rejected a collectivism which absorbs the individual into the mass and thereby suppresses one's personality. In this he had the disciples of Marx in mind. He also rejected egoism. Egoism, whether personal or racial, is quite rightly excited by the idea of the element ascending, through faithfulness to life, to the extremes of the incommunicable and the exclusive that it holds within it. It feels right. Its only mistake, but a fatal one, is to confuse individuality with personality. In trying to separate itself as much as possible from others, the element individualises itself; but in doing so it becomes retrograde and seeks to drag the world backwards towards plurality and into Tatter. In fact it diminishes itself and loses itself. To be fully ourselves it is in the opposite direction, in the direction of convergence with all the rest, that we must advance-towards the 'other.' The peak of ourselves, k e acme of our originality, is not our individuality but our person; and according to the evolutionary structure of the world, we can only find our person by uniting together. There is no mind without synthesis. The same law holds good from top to bottom. The true ego grows in inverse proportion to 'egoism' [PM 2631.

On the positive side, he maintained that one's personality is developed by participation in a community through shared activities for the good of all. It is love, then, that unites individuals in heart, mind, and activity, and as a consequence completes and fulfills


13?

them. In the very act of losing themselves, individuals find themselves at their deepest level. There were still problems facing Teilhard in his consideration of the conditions that must be met in order for evolution to fulfill its role. One problem concerned the future of the person after death. Marxists-and he could have included naturalists as wellmaintain that the task of evolution and of humans, its highest peak, is completed when at death we pass on to future generations our accomplishments-"our ideas, our discoveries, our works of art, our example. Surely this imperishable treasure is the best part of our being." But he asked that we consider this hypothesis for a moment; if we do, we shall see that in the end the process of evolution to the human level of reflective consciousness has been a "colossal wastage." In spite of the importance of human achievements, we are passing on "only the shadow of ourselves." Our works? But even in the interest of life in general, what is the work of works for man if not to establish, in and by each one of us, an absolutely original centre in which the universe reflects itself in a unique and inimitable way? And those centres are our very selves and personalities [PM 2611.

Teilhard refused to accept the possibility that the enormously long and complex process of ev9lution would end with the death of that which is its highest moment, the human person; in short, that evolution would selfdestruct. In seeking an explanation of "the whole phenomenon," he found it more reasonable to envision a continued existence of the arrow which led the way for evolution and was its crowning moment. But there is something more: person and community. Evolution can reach its term only by the socialization of individuals in a community of love. Yet this, admitted Teilhard, sounds all too Utopian. For human love is often limited to a single human being, or at most to a relatively few-family, relatives, friends. It can be objected that "to love all and everyone is a conoadictory and false gesture which only Ieads in the end to loving noone" (PM 266). He responded that there is an affinity for the other, a mutual attraction, at the very heart of matter and especially of human beings.

138

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

A sense of the universe, a sense of the all, the nostalgia which seizes us when confkonted by nature, beauty, music-these seem to be an expectation and awareness of a Great Presence. The 'mystics' and their commentators apart, how has psychology been able so consis tently to ignore this fundamental vibration whose ring can be heard by every practised ear at the basis, or rather at the summit, of every great emotion?Resonance to the All-the keynote of pure poetry and pure religion [PM 2661.

Pure poetry, one may say; but Teilhard did think that the experience of such a conviction was common enough in those who reflected seriously on it. At the same time, he was not arguing merely from human experience. He felt that the whole phenomenon of evolution itself pointed in the same direction. If evolution is to reach its term in human beings, these in turn can truly develop as persons only through love; but this cannot be achieved solely through human love. There must be something, or rather some one, who is the very center of our consciousness, our personalities, our love, and our community. To communicate itself, my ego must subsist through abandoning itself or the gift will fade away. The conclusion is inevitable that the concentration of a conscious universe would be unthinkable if it did not reassemble in itself all consn'ousness as well as all t h consciow; each particular consciousness remaining conscious of itself at the end of the operation, and even (this must absolutely be understood) each particular consciousness becoming still more itself and thus more clearly distinct from others the closer it gets to them in Omega [PM 261-621. \ It is the Omega, a personal God, who attracts individuals and unites them in a community of love (PM 263)'. Such a one will overcome the limitations of human love, namely, the "repulsion and hatred," the "anti-personalist" tendencies in all of us, and oppressive collectivism (PM 267). "In Omega we have in the first place the principle we needed to explain both the persistent march of things towards greater consciousness and the paradoxical solidarity of what is most fragile" (PM 2'71). Here we see another manifestation of transcendence and immanence: transcendence in that there is a God who is beyond the whole universe and the process of its evolution; immanence in that God


139

is at the center of evolutionary consciousness and constitutes its ultimate depth and meaning. Toward the end of the Phenomenon, Teilhard made some remarks about the relation of science and religion. Regarding science, he noted that it has become part of our social life, and as a research scientist he had some harsh things to say about the current use of science. Priority is given to the development of industry and armaments. "Less is provided annually for all the pure research all over the world than for one capital ship" (PM 279). He added that our grandchildren would not be wrong if they considered us as barbarians. We ourselves are "as children of a transition period" who are not fully aware or fully in control of the great movement which we have begun. He expressed a longing for a time when science will be employed to liberate human energy from purely mechanical labor, to provide leisure, and to absorb our interest in plumbing the secrets of the universe rather than in developing bombs and cannons. Above all, he was hopeful that science would concern itself with understanding the human being as "the key to the whole science of nature," the being which pervades all of nature, is at the bottom, top, and center, contending with its problems and struggles. The study of human nature comprises the study of how the world was made and the role of human beings in its continued creation, a study of the past and how it began, and'an effort to improve the health and strength of the human organism (PM 280-83). Teilhard regretfully reminded us that "to outward appearance, the modern world was born of an anti-religious movement: man becoming self-sufficient and reason supplanting belief" (PM 283). For several generations, one has heard little else but the conflict between science and faith, as though science would soon take the place of faith. But after two centuries both have survived with little contact with one another. In Teilhard's opinion, "neither can develop normally without the other." Science needs faith for a full understanding of nature. For example, though he admitted that science by its analytic procedures could not demonstrate that the universe has a direction, a synthetic view would make this hypothesis plausible and reasonable. In short, as soon as science outgrows the analytic investigations which constitute its lower and preliminary stages, and passes on to

140

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

synthesis-synthesis which naturally culminates in the realisation of some superior state of humanity-it is at once led to foresee and place its stakes on the future and on the all. And with that it outdistances itself and emerges in terms of @tion and admation [PM 2841. When one reads Teilhard7s optimistic view of evolutionary progress to Omega, one can wonder whether he considered the final completion of humans in Omega to be inevitable. At one point, he made an ambiguous statement: "Man is iwqblaceabk Therefore, however improbable it might seem, he must reach t h goal, not necessarily, doubtless, but infallibly" (PM 276). This text occurs after his section on Omega and during his reflections on the end of the world. My own interpretation is as follows. Teilhard felt it to be unthinkable that the hope for the future of noogenesis would be unfulfilled. So, the human race will surely, and in general, find its realization in Omega; in short, this will happen infallibly.45But yet not necessarily. This seems to mean that salvation for each individual will depend on the free choices that each one makes in the pursuit of the moral and religious life. This would also be in accord with Teilhard's acceptance of human freedom. Teilhard completed his treatment of evolutionary development with an Epilogue entitled "The Christian Phenomenon," called "Christogenesis." It consisted in his reflections on evolution from his Christian experience. He made a bold assertion in the form of a question. "Evolution has come to infuse new blood, so to speak, into the perspectives ahd aspirations of Christianity. In return, is not the Christian faith destined, is it not preparing, to save and even to take the place of evolution?" (PM 297). This topic has particular theological implications, and these within a particular doctrinal view. Hence I shall not enter into a discussion of it, since it is not appropriate for my present purpose. For those 45 Later, when he discussed "Christogenesis,"or the Christian phenomenon, he stated: "For a Christian believer it is interesting to note that the final success of hominisation (and thus cosmic involution) is positively guaranteed by the 'redeeming virtue' of the God incarnate in his creation. But this takes us beyond the plan of phenomenology." Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenomenon of Man$. 308nl.


who seek more enlightenment on the Christology of Teilhard has been admirably developed el~ewhere.~~ Yet it is very much integral to my purpose that I discuss Tei ard7sview regarding the tension between the human and the r gious in the development of person. This was of primary inter for the pragmatists, and they tried to resolve it, each in his o. way. Peirce and James retained a belief in a God, but neither h close affiliations with a religious institution. Dewey rejected bc and developed his own theory of religious experience. The stil ing point for all three was their understanding that God and in: tutionalized religion set up barriers between the person on t one hand and God and the world on the other. To them it v difficult, if not impossible, to be a human person and a religio person from such a perspective. Teilhard, too, lived with such a tension in his religious life. . he matured and pursued his scientific studies, the tension t came more profound. Working with scientists, some of whom hi no religious commitment and hence no such conflict, he four it increasingly difficult to explain how he, as a religious perso could be serious in his efforts to uncover the secrets of nature. is the task of the present section to explicate this problem and show how he resolved it. The main source will be Teilhard's 7 Divine Milieu. It was written from his deeply religious experienc within Roman Catholicism, but as he notes in the Preface: This book is not specifically addressed to Christians who are firmly established in their faith and have nothing more to learn about its beliefs. It is written for the waverers, both inside and outside; that is to say for those who, instead of giving themselves wholly to the Church, either hesitate on its threshold or turn away in the hope of going beyond it [DM 431 .47

As a consequence, it seems that Christians "have to step out c their human dress so as to have faith in themselves as Christiansand inferior Christians at that" (DM 65). So his book was writte in order to counteract the growing opinion in his time that on 46 Christopher F. Mooney, s.J.,Ta'lhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ (Ga den City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1968). 47All references to The Divine Milieu are given in the text as DM, with pag number.

142

143

RADICAL PRAGMATISM


is false to oneself or diminishes human development by adhering to traditional Christianity, whereas in fact it included the highest aspirations of the human spirit. His work, then, is a reflection on Christianity, and that of his own persuasion. But I feel that for the adherents of any religious sect, and for nonbelievers too, it has rich insights which deserve serious consideration. Teilhard tried to reflect the opinion of those who supposed that Christianity makes one inhuman, that it isolates the Christian by causing one to be unconcerned about human affairs. The opinion of many, he claimed, is that if, for example, religious or priests devote their time and energy to "profane" research, they are only trying to prove that they are not the most stupid of men. Catholics are considered to engage in such work in a condescending way, but without conviction. "Christianity nourishes deserters and false friends: that is what we cannot forgive" (DM 68). Teilhard experienced this kind of attitude among his co-researchers, at least until they got to know him well, and it bothered him profoundly. Teilhard felt that many Christians experienced a sense of alienation in the face of what they thought the true Christian, the truly religious person should be, namely, one wholeheartedly devoted to God and wholly detached from the world. He saw a definite danger in this canflict.

it consists in seeing how, without making the smallest concession to 'nature' but with a desire for greater perfection, we can reconcile, and provide mutual nourishment for, the love of God and a healthy love of the world, a striving towards detachment and a striving towards the enrichment of our human lives [DM 531.

Depending on the greater or less vitality of the nature of the individual, this conflict is in danger of finding its solution in one of the three following ways: either the Christian will repress his taste for the tangible and force himself &confine his concern to purely religious objects, and he will try to live in a world that)he has divinised by banishing the largest possible number of earthly objects; or else, harassed by that inward conflict which hampers him, he will dismiss the evangelical counsels and decide to lead what seems to him a complete and human life; or else, again, and this is the most usual case, he will give up any attempt to make sense of his situatiop; he will never belong wholly to God, nor ever wholly to things; incomplete in his own eyes, and insincere in the eyes of his fellows, he will gradually acquiesce in a double life. I am speaking, it should not be forgotten, from experience [DM 521.

Teilhard thought that all three solutionswere dangerous and that a fourth way was needed:

In a prophetic way, he was giving voice to a problem that was beginning to be recognized. I can remember well that in the late 1940s there was much discussion in Catholic circles about "transcendence and immanence," "transcendentalism and incarnationalism." It was felt that both sides of these two phrases should be preserved but that too much attention and emphasis had been given to transcendence and not enough to immanence and incarnationalism-to God above and beyond this world as against God immersed, incarnate, "enfleshed" in human affairs. In America, it was common enough to attribute this tension to our Puritan roots, and caricatures abounded. As representative of Puritanism, much was known about Jonathan Edwards's "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" and little or nothing about Puritan sermon literature praising God's beauty, goodness, and love. It was this imbalance, I believe, that influenced the classical pragmatists, as it did so many others. But this tension was found within Roman Catholicism as well, and it'ivas this religious strand that concerned Teilhard. In terms of his evolutionary cosmology, he saw the task of the Christian as one of collaboration with the divine in bringing the whole universe to completion. Thus every man, in the course of his life, must not only show himself obedient and docile. By his fidelity he must buiId--+tarting from the most natural territory of his own self-a work, an $us, into which something enters from all the elements of the earth. He maka his oum soul throughout all his earthly days; and at the same time he collaborates in another work, in another opus, which infinitely transcends, while at the same time it narrowly determines, the perspectives of his individual achievement: the completion of the world [DM 60-611.

"The completion of the world." A full understanding of this phrase would require a detailed treatment of Teilhard's theology and particularly of his Christology. But even within the limits of my own purpose, the phrase has important implications, and here

144

RADICAL PRAGUTISM

I am giving my own interpretation of what Teilhard is saying. He views the evolutionary process as a continual march from matter to human thought and reflection, through human development in society by love, and to its completion in God or Omega. The human being is not a Platonic soul, dropped into a body as into a prison, whose goal as a philosopher, the lover of wisdom, is to pass beyond the body and the shadow world of sense reality to reunion with the Good. A human being, for Teilhard, is a person immersed in, yet superior to, matter, for whom a relation to this world is essential for the full development of evolution in all its manifestations, especially that of the human being itself. All things are to reach completion, and the unique role of the person-evolution become conscious of itself-is to share in the continued creation of the physical universe and of the human person. Hence whatever our role as men may be, whether we are artists, working-men or scholars, we can, if we are Christians, speed towards the object of our work as though towards an opening on to the supreme fulfilment of our beings. Indeed, without exaggeration or excess in thought or expression-but simply by confronting the most fundamental truths of our faith and of experience-we are led to the following observation: God is inexhaustiblyattainable in the totality of our action. And this prodigy of divinisation has nothing with which we dare to compare it except the subtle, gentle sweetness with which this actual change of shape is wrought; for it is achieved without disturbing it at all_Cnonminuit, sed sacravit . . .) the completeness and unity of man's endeavour [DM 63-64].

Nothing, then , is profane, everything is sacred, for God is continually a creator of the universe and "incarnate" in it, and human beings assist through action in bringing the world, and especially humans-the whob phenomenon-to its completion (DM 66). Teilhard claimed that his faith placed upon him the right and duty to commit himself to the things of this world. It is for this reason that he dedicated himself to "the sacred duty of research" by which he would "test every barrier, try every path, plumb every abyss" (DM 68-69). Thus the Christian view of salvation includes the whole world-material things as well as spiritual souls, individuals as well as community. The result will be "the HeavenlyJerusalem or the New Earth" (DM 61).


145

Teilhard, then, optimistically and at times even lyrically, spoke of the "divinisation" of human effort on behalf of the world and humanity. At the same time, he was fully aware that the task was not easy. In the very optimistic and very broadening attitude which has been roughly sketched above, a m e and deep renunciation lies concealed. Anyone who devotes himself to human duty, according to the christian formula, though outwardly he may seem to be immersed in the concerns of the earth, is in fact, down to the depths of his being, a man of great detachment [DM 711.

One must overcome inertia, the boring monotony of the ordinary, the temptation to give it all up and withdraw into selfishness, or to rest content with what has been achieved. Instead there must be an eagerness to blaze new paths and discover new truths. "So, gradually, the worker no longer belongs to himself. Little by little the great breath of the universe has insinuated itself into him through the fissure of his humble but faithful action, has broadened him, raised him up, borne him on" (DM 71). But there is need of continual strength through union with God, the source and sustainer of all that was, is, or will be. It is God alone whom one is seeking through created things. God has been encountered through one's actions, and "the divine milieu which has been uncovered absorbs his powers in the very proportion in which these laboriously rise above their individuality" (DM 73). Though much more could be said about Teilhard's speculations, the following summary of them may be given as they apply to my present purpose. The first and most obvious aspect of his thought was his evolutionary perspective. In the philosophy of all three pragmatists, evolution was an important element, but in none of their writings was it as dominant and as all-pervasive as in those of Teilhard. It was the prism through which all human thought must be filtered. This is understandable in view of his lifetime of research in paleontology. One may object, and with some justification, that his emphasis was too exclusive. But he felt that, given its profound effect on all areas of thought and the need to resolve conflicts and misunderstandings in its regard, evolution should be the center of his philosophical reflections. Teilhard faced squarely and boldly the fear of some that evolu\

146

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

tion would tend to lessen the dignity of the human person. For him, the person was the leading arrow and highest achievement of the natural forces in the evolutionary process. By its power of reflection, the human being was "discontinuous but continuous" with matter, the body emerging from natural organic develop ment, but possessing a spiritual element radically transcending and superior to matter. Personal development was achieved through community, love, and finally through union with God, the Omega and Center of all love. Finally, Teilhard tried to resolve the tension between the religious and the human, but not through a two-track system with no connection between the two. There is a rich union between the truly human and the truly religious, between the sacred and the profane. Human life is at one with the world and with God, and the link with evolution is complete.

Concluding Remarks THE SUBTITLE OF THE PRECEDING CHAPTER and indeed of the whole book is "An Alternative." By this I do not mean a complete substitute for everything that pragmatism as a philosophy has to say. Instead, it professes to bear witness to an assimilation of insights found in another tradition which was alien, even hostile, to my own. Further, it is meant to be a reasonable extension of some of the main lines of pragmatism. Years ago, I published an article which was an early attempt to show that Dewey's theory of experience was not as closed to a transcendent being as he claimed, if one would follow his initial insights.' In the present volume I have completed an enterprise which has long been my preoccupation, that is, to follow out this procedure in some important themes of the pragmatists. It is not the case, of course, that every one of them wrote in a similar way on each of the themes discussed. But I have called these themes "pragmatic" since they were espoused by one or other of the three who are included in any treatment of pragmatism. I have pointed out where the insights of the pragmatists are open to further development and what additional conclusions can be drawn from them. Since the preceding chapters have been detailed and focused on specific topics, I would like to present an overview of the main lines of development and at the same time, in individual cases, to add further comments. The first strand in pragmatism that is evident is the stress on evolution. It was adopted by the pragmatists as a basic scientific standpoint. This should not be surprising in view of the impact made by Darwin in the middle of the nineteenth century and thereafter. It can be said without exaggeration that few philosophical movements surpassed or even equaled the pragmatists in their assimilation and use of evolution in their philRobert J. Roth, s . ~ . ~ ' ' H o'Closed' w is John Dewey's Naturalism?", Zntmationul PhiIos(9hica.l Quarterb, 3 (1963), 106-120.

148

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

osophical reflections. I say "movements" because Teilhard, for one, philosophized within an evolutionary context even more than the pragmatists. As already indicated, the pragmatists forged a link between evolution and the origin of hypotheses. This is because the human mind is a part of nature and has developed by the same evolutionary process. They argued that the ability of the mind to make the "leap" to generals was ultimately grounded in evolution in that it accounted for the brain, nervous system, and psychological processes by which the leap is made. Peirce claimed that there is an affinity, a connaturality, between the mind and the cosmos, that mind has "a natural adaptation to imagining correct theories of some kinds," and that "nature fecundates the mind of man with ideas which, when these ideas grow up, will resemble their father, Nature" (CP 5.591).James maintained that "backdoor" experience, involving the higher aesthetic, moral, and intellectual judgments, is accounted for by the organic structure of the mind, namely, of the brain and nervous system. This in turn is based on the Darwinian theory of accidental variations. Dewey, too, adopted natural selection, though he did not link the psychological and logical aspects of the mind with evolution as explicitly as Peirce and James did. Nonetheless, the importance of evolution in his philosophy is evident. The point made regarding the origin of hypotheses in logic and epistemology, and the grasp of ideas in moral theory, was that the pragmatists did not go far enougMn their analysis of generals; they did not penetrate radically or deeply enough into their nature. Though the development of the brain and nervous system through evolution is a necessary condition, it is not's s f i c i e n t one; something else, it was argued, is needed. This follows from the nature of hypotheses and ideals; their universality in concepts and propositions transcends space-time relations, sense imagination, and any residues of particular sensations or sense objects. Several corollaries flowed from this description. The first was that there is required an intuition that grasps hypotheses and ideals. The pragmatists did appeal to some kind of intuition, but the term was used warily, sometimes in quotations marks, sometimes with the caveat that it does not mean intuition in the longdis carded sense of the term. It certainly was not viewed as a process

CONCLUDING REMARKS

-

149

which results in an immaterial, spiritual content as embodied in generals or universals. If evolution is not enough to account for intuition, what more is required? The answer to this question has been suggested. The power of the mind to transcend the conditions of matter was seen as an unrestricted drive to know (Lonergan), as intuition (Finnis), as reflection (Teilhard). Teilhard proposed an evolutionary cosmology which looks at the mind, not apart from the process of evolution but as immersed in it, and this perspective can be adapted to the other formulations of the mind which have been used. The soul, though radically discontinuous with biological evolution, is involved in its continuous process, in the whole phenomenon. The dynamism of evolution proceeds from inorganic matter to conscious life, to human development, to community, and finally to fulfillment in a transcendent being who is at the origin and term of evolution, as the lure of feeling (Whitehead) or the Omega (Teilhard). The unrestricted drive to know, to form hypotheses, to reflect are manifestations of the thrust of evolution in general and of the mind in particular toward the depths within the self and the horizons beyond it. The connaturality between mind and nature is thus moved a step beyond the biological processes of evolution to the dynamism of a spiritual mind within these processesm an explanatory principle. Another issue is at stake in arguing for the precise nature of hypotheses, ideals, and intuition. It has to do with what all this tells us about the nature of the person, namely, that it is spiritual, immaterial, different in kind from the material universe. This point is important for a number of reasons. First, it concerns what one takes the person to be. The pragmatists we have discussed approached this question in various ways. Peirce did not explicitly and in detail address the notion of a spiritual component in humans. Early on in the Principles,James discussed the various theories regarding mind. He made it clear that his "positivistic and non-metaphysical" approach to psychology would take no account of a spiritual soul, though "the spiritualistic reader may nevertheless believe in the soul if he will" (PP 182). Later on, after developing his "stream of consciousness" theory, he found the soul to be untenable by reason of the dimculties regarding its substantiality, spirituality, immortality, and responsibility before

150

CONCLUDING REMARKS

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

God. Therefore, it is " needlessfor expressing the actual subjectivephenomena of cmsciousness as they appear" (PP 326. Italics in original). One may still believe in soul for one's own comfort, but, while admitting that his own reasonings did not prove the nonexistence of the soul, he contended that "they have only proved its superfluity for scientific purposes" (PP 332). It is clear that in the context of the Principles, James set aside the spiritual soul mainly on scientific grounds. That he did so also in the context of his pragmatism seems to be indicated by the fact that he does not again take up the question in detail. Dewey, of course, soon after the writing of his Psychology (1886), abandoned the notion of a substantive, spiritual soul. But it makes a great deal of difference whether a human being is viewed as an organism differing from the rest of material entities only in the complexity of physical, biological, and psychological operations, or one possessing a spiritual component completely transcending material reality. It affects one's viewpoint regarding the possibility of free will. Surely the pragmatists rejected mechanistic determinism and argued for variations in the development of material beings. Without this, evolution would be impossible. Furthermore, they claimed, human beings have the ability to make free choices and are not locked into a narrow fatalism. But even if one sets aside vexing questions regarding the influence of psychological compulsions and environmental conditions, there are still diiculties in explaining how an organism, material in nature, can transcend physical, chemical, and biological laws so as to be d e in any meaningful sense of the term. And if it is, it would have to stand somewhere betyeen material reductionism and spiritualism. What, then, would its nature be? The kind of being that is claimed for person has implications in other areas as well. Without personal freedom, a moral theory in any usually accepted sense of the term is impossible. For such a theory supposes the ability on the part of the person to envision certain values, an obligation to perform or avoid actions that lead to or deter from the attainment of such values, freedom to respond in appropriate ways, personal responsibility for the course of action undertaken, and praise or blame consequent upon one's behavior. The pragmatists, especially Dewey, not only af-

.

--

151

firmed this view of moral theory but developed and enriched it. But they did not lay the metaphysical foundations for freedom that such a theory requires. A similar point may be made regarding religion. For a materialist, death is the final end and human destiny must be sought within the confines of one's present life. Religion loses its supraterrestrial dimensions and is in effect a thoroughgoing humanism and naturalism. These implications are all familiar enough, and they are faced and accepted by those who reject a spiritualistic outlook. This is especially true of Dewey. On the other hand, Peirce had some inspiring things to say about the place of God in human life; James did the same, and intimated a belief in immortality; Dewey wrote eloquently on the unity of the religious and secular in one experience. In a way not unlike their dismissal of classical idealism, they rejected a "two-track" system of ordinary and religious experience. But for all their discussion of God in this life, neither Peirce nor James gave extended consideration to the relation between earthly life and life after death. Death as a problem and the possibility or impossibility of a future life did not seriously engage their attention. There seemed to linger the traces of a "two-track" view of this life and the next in which the latter was not closely linked to the former nor fully discssed. Teilhard, on the other hand, viewed the development of the person through evolution and religious experience as continuous with a future life, while God, the Omega, was seen as the animating principle of the whole process. In any case, so important are these issues that a philosophical anthropology, that is, a settled position regarding what one takes the person ultimately to be, is the central philosophical problem. This does not mean that a full picture of the human person can be drawn simply by saying that it does or does not include a spiritual component. A developed notion of the human person needs to look to community, communication, social and political arrangements, psychology, and especially religion, as well as other considerations. But in the long run the distinction between the material and spiritual is crucial and has implications in many areas that constitute the human condition. But there is another reason why concern for the nature of person is important. Pragmatism has indeed come a long way since

152

!

153

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

CONCLUDING REMARKS

its beginnings when it was looked upon as anti-moral and antireligious in spiritualistic and traditionally religious circles. Much has been done to overcome these biases, especially in recent decades when pragmatism has made a comeback after a period of decline. Pragmatists no longer hesitate to write on religion and theism. But for all that, many outside that tradition are still wary, if not hostile. An enterprise that seeks to explore the potentialities of pragmatism in morals, religion, and a philosophy of person could open the door to traditional religionists and spiritualists. There could then emerge an interchange of ideas that would be fruitful to the adherents of both traditions. The introduction of a spiritual component or soul in a philosophy of person opens a veritable Pandora's box. One conjures up visions of a cloud of plagues that have long been kept under cover: Plato's "two-thing" theory of soul in a body that is a hindrance, a prison, or the Cartesian "dogma" of "the ghost in the machine" as satirized by Gilbert R ~ l eIt . ~was largely due to the model of Descartes and the Cartesians, with its radical separation of soul and body at the center of person, that the duality of spirit and matter was given up and the unity of the person lodged in a onedimensional model of a human being as a biological organism. There will be no extended attempt here to minimize the difficulties or to provide a definitive solution. That would take a volume in itself. For the time being, some general comments will be made. For one thing, there is the over3vhelming experiential evidence of the unity of human consciousness. When I see, hear, feel, think, reason, or will, I am aware that it is the same "I" who' performs all these conscious acts. Though I can refer certain sensations to particular parts of my body, the I is the one agent who is conscious of being the source of them all. So imperious is the awareness of unity of person that it is only by a careful analysis of conscious acts that the spirituality of some of them, and of the soul itself, can be discerned. In any case, unity of consciousness is a clear indication that the human person is not two complete substances but a single nature, a unified human being. The soul is not a Platonic spirit fallen from its natural home into a body as

a prison. In this meaning of soul, its destiny would be to overcome the influence of the body, to free itself from the body and to return to its original abode with the gods (or God) in the world of forms. Nor is it a Cartesian spirit separate and distinct from the body. Again, the body is not a "window" of the soul through which the latter looks out upon or observes the world in the manner of a spectator. Nor is the body an instrument used by the soul to deal with nature. The human being is a unity of soul and body in which the latter is as essential to person as soul. The body is precisely that through which the whole person makes contact with the world of sense so as to achieve universal knowledge and wisdom. This view of soul adds a dimension missed by the pragmatists. They are correct in stressing the interaction between self and the world as against a "spectator" theory. But they overlooked a deeper dimension, namely, the interiority of the self capable of reflective self-awareness and self-possession, capable too of making a unique contribution to the meaning of person. The unity, then, of spiritual soul and matter cannot be explained by a joining together of two "things," however closely they may be related. A person is one nature composed of two principles. As stated by Joseph once el:

Gilbert Ryle, The Concept of Mind (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1949), pp. 'l5ff.

Soul and matter are more intimately one than a statue and its shape, a sentence and its meaning, a symphony and the inspiration of the composer. Without the shape there is not a shapeless statue, there is no statue at all but only a block of marble; without the meaning, there is no meaningless sentence, but just a collection of words; without the inspiration, there would be a jumble of sounds, but no symph~ny.~

In short, there is in the person a duality without dualism. Something of the same can be said regarding interaction of the spiritual and material. Various types of interactionism have viewed it on the model of efficient cause, one thing acting on another, with the obvious problem of explaining how the spiritual and material can act upon each other. Referring again to the examples which he had already used, Donceel stated: Joseph Donceel, 1967), p. 433.

SJ.,

Philosophical Anthropology (New York: Sheed and Ward,

-.

154

155

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

CONCLUDING REMARKS

Between soul and matter there is indeed interaction;not, however, as between an efficient cause and the object on which it operates, but as between a determining and a determined component; as between a formal cause and its complementary material cause. It is the kind of interaction which exists between the marble and the shape, between the words and the meaning, between the sounds and the in~piration.~

within the person. This formulation has occasionally found favor among some Thomistically-inspiredphil~sophers.~ But it was not well expressed by Teilhard nor satisfactorily interpreted by the commentators. Hence it does not as yet provide a cogent philosophy of person. In any case, the above attempts to reconcile the spiritual and material within the nature of the human person advance the explanation while also raising further questions. As I reflect on the kind of union that exists between spiritual soul and matter and the diaculties this union generates, I sometimes muse upon how much easier it would be to view a human being as merely a biological organism in which operations and existence are contained within a monism of matter. No overflowing of boundaries here; all is simple, neat, and clean. But then the universal character of ideas or generals and of ideals imposes itself upon my mind, and the inadequacy of a biological organism to explain it appears. It seems more reasonable to struggle with the difficulties of soul and body than to abandon a position that more adequately accounts for the generalizing power of the mind. At the same time, one shoul&realize that not all difficulties are dissolved by a monism of matter. This occasionally surfaces in treatments of the so-called mind-body problem. Some scientists and philosophers advance beyond a thoroughgoing behaviorism in the account of mind and attribute to the mental something more than overt behavior. The question then arises as to what constitutes the mental and what is its relation to the processes of the brain and nervous system. Arguments for their identity abound and there is no need to rehearse them here. But there is little unanimity on this point. For example, Wilder Penfield confessed that, during his long career as a neurosurgeon, he attempted to prove that brain accounts for the mind. But then he asked the question: "Can the mind be explained by what is now known about the brain? If not, which is the more reasonable of two possible hypotheses: that man's being is based on one element, or By mind he meant that which "is aware of what

I

At the same time, as a spiritual entity, the soul does not ultimately depend on the body for its existence. It is the act of existence for the whole being. Norris Clarke expressed as follows both the unity of soul and matter and its interaction. The soul as spiritual in nature must have its own spiritual act of existence that cannot have matter or material parts within it. It then takes up the body provided for it into its own act of existence, sharing it with the body, leaning down to it, so to speak, and drawing the body into its own higher mode of existence, to participate in this spiritual existence as far as the body can, in a limited, imperfect way, as in all participations. The "ensouled body" is then no longer merely an animal but a human body suffused with spirit all through it, at the service of spirit. And since there is but one act of existence, that of the soul in which the body itself now shares, there is only one nature and one being present, an embodied spirit, a spirit that has taken a body into itself for its own service, forming a natural unity-a synthesis of spirit and matter.5 It is interesting to note that, though Teilhard held for a spiritual component within the person, he also stressed the unit); of the latter. He did not have recourse to past philosophical fo-mulations, but he attempted a novel approach within his evolutionary perspective. "To avoid a fundamental dualism, at once impossible and anti-scientific, and at the same time to safeguard the natural complexity of the stdT of the universe," he proposed the theory that all energy is psychic, with two components: tangential, or the within, and radial, or the without. He linked this with "complexity-consciousness." This has already been discussed. This model applies to all material reality from inorganic matter to human beings. It finds its culmination in reflection and a spiritual soul Ibid. Clarke, The Human Person: A Philosqbhical Exploration, p. 33.

I

i

For example, Donceel, PhilosophicaZ Anthropology, pp. 11-1 2, 16-1 7, 49, 5758. 437. ;wilder Penfield, The Mystery of the Mind (Princeton,N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975), p. xiii.

..

156

157

RADICAL PRAGMATISM

CONCLUDING REMARKS

is going on. The mind reasons and makes new decisions. It understands. It acts as though with an energy of its own. It can make decisions and put them into effect by calling upon various brain me~hanisms."~ He maintained that there is no question that these latter are involved in mental acts. "But to expect the highest brain-mechanisms or any set of reflexes, however complicated, to carry out what the mind does, and thus perform all the functions of the mind, is quite a b ~ u r d . "Penfield ~ still admitted that the problem of mind is the most difficult of all problems. Nevertheless, "after a professional lifetime spent in trying to discover how the brain accounts for the mind, it comes as a surprise now to discover, during this final examination of the evidence, that the dualist hypothesis seems the more reasonable of the two possible explanations."1° Penfield also expressed delight that a scientist can now legitimately believe in the existence of the spirit, though he did not explain precisely what he meant by spirit.'] Karl Popper, a philosopher, and John Eccles, a brain scientist, collaborated in an effort to show the distinction yet relation between bodies and minds, or between "brain structures and processes on the one hand and mental dispositions and events [including sensations, selfconsciousness, purposes, aims] on the other."12 They felt that some progress could be made in understanding this relation, though they doubted that it will ever be fully understood. Other philosophers have faced a similar problem. Keith Camp bell, while adhering to a form of materialism, admitted that philosophy has not yet settled questions regarding, f o example, ~ whether or not our freedom requires some form of dualism, or whether "mental objects such as images and dreams, mental processes such as enduring a stinging pain, mental descriptions with their intentionality" can be easily explained through some form of materialism among those types so far developed.13He added

that the mind-body question will not be closed "as long as there are men to think." Yet, he claimed, some position as a working hypothesis is always appropriate, even if it is provisional. Jerome Shaffer, in speaking of the relation between the mental and the physical, stated:

Ibid., p. 75-76. Ibid., p. 79. lo Ibid., p. 85. l1 Ibid. l2 Karl P. Popper andJohn C. Eccles, The Selfand Its Brain (New York: Springer International, 1977), p. vii. Keith Campbell, Body and Mind, 2nd ed. (Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), p. 139.

It might be thought that the present difference in kind [type?] between the mental and physical will be closed by future physiological or psychological discoveries of some sort of "bridge" between the mental and the physical. But it must be admitted that that is a pipe dream. All that we can expect from future research is a more precise determination of the mental and physical events involved. We will still be left with the basic difference in type between some sort of mental event on the one hand and some sort of physical event on the other. And that would still leave us with the problem how such different sorts of events could affect each other.14

These instances are cited, not to substantiate the spiritualist hypothesis nor to establish the existence of conscious states separate from brain processes, but to indicate that, if separate mental states are admitted and even if they are confined to the sensible and particular, difficulties abound, though they do not deter some from adopting one or the other hypothesis. They also suggest that pragmatists should'be more willing than they have been to reflect more deeply, more radically, on consciousness and awareness as internal processes. In the main they have stressed the description of the mental as interactions between subject and object, and they have been chary about entering into the internal activities of the person. It would seem that the spiritualist hypothesis, too, deserves a hearing once more, in spite of ambiguities that may remain. And inserting it into a discussion of pragmatism may serve to be beneficial for all concerned. With these concluding remarks, the task that this volume was intended to fulfill is completed. As a long-time student of pragrnatism, I have learned much for my own philosophical and religious enrichment. I am hoping that I can repay the debt and prompt pragmatists and others to look at their own tradition from a new perspective. If I can do this is some small way, I shall consider my present project to be well worth the effort. '*JeromeA. ShafTer, Philosophy of Mind (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 63.

.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Dewey,John. The Middle Worlzs ofJohn Dewey, 1899-1 924.15 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1976-1983. . The L a w Wmh o f John D m , 1925-1 953. 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1981-1991. James, William. Essays in Radical Empiricism. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1976. . A Pluralist Universe. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977. .Pragmatism and the Meaning of Truth. Cambridge: Haruard University Press, 1981. i . The Principles of Psychology. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1983. . The varieties of Religious Experience. Cambridge: Harvard University ~ r e s ?1985. . The Wll to Believe and Other Essays in Popllar Philosophy. Carnbridge: Harvard University Press, 1979. Peirce, Charles Sanders. Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce. Ed. Charles Hartshorne, Paul Weiss, and Arthur W. Burks. 8 vols. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard Univeresity Press, 1933-1958. Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. The Divine Milieu: 2nd rev. ed. New York: Harper & Row, 1968. Le milieu divin. Paris: ~ditionsdu Seuil, 1957. . The Future of Man. Trans. Norman Denny. New York: Harper & Row, 1964. L'avenir de l'hmnm. Paris: editions du Seuil, 1959. . The Phenomenon of Man. Trans. Bernard Wall. New York: Harper & Row, 1965. Le phho&e hurnain. Paris: ~ditionsdu Seuil, 1955. . The Vision of the Past. Trans. J. M. Cohen. New York: Harper & Row, 1966. La vision du paste. Paris: editions du Seuil, 1957.

Anderson, David R "The Ev~lutionof Peirce's Concept of Abduction." Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Society, 22 (1986), 146-64.

160

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Atkinson, Brooks, ed. The Sek&d Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. New York: The Modern Library, 1950. ,ed. Waldon and Other Writings of Heny David Thmeau. New York: The Modern Library, 1950. Ayer, A. J. The Origins of Pragmatism: Studies in the Philosophy of Charles S a h Peirce and WilliamJames. San Francisco: Freeman, Cooper & Company, 1968. Barthtlemy-Madaule, Madeleine. "Teilhard de Chardin, NeeMarxism, Existentialism: A Confrontation." International Philosophical Quarterly, 1 (1961), 648-67. Bernstein, Richard. John Dewey. New York: Washington Square, 1967. . "Peirce's Theory of Perception." In Studies in the Philosophy of Charles Sanders Peirce, Second Series. Ed. Edward C. Moore and Richard S. Robin. Arnherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1964. Pp. 168-89. Blackhum, H. J. "The Metaphysics of Man." Religious Humanism, 3 (1969), 166-68. Blewett,John, S.J. John Dewey: His Thought and Injluence. New York: Fordham University Press, 1960. Boring, Edwin G. A History of Experimental Psychology. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1950. Brent, Joseph. Charles Sanders Peirce: A A@. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993. Burt, Donald X., O.S.A. "The Problem ofJustifying Moral Obligation. An Aspect of the Moral Argument for the Existence of God." Proceedings of the Ammican CatholicPhilosophical Association, 49 (1975), 72-81. Campbell, Keith. Body and Mind. 2nd ed. Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984. Clarke, W. Norris, S.J. "The Human Person: A Philosophical ~xploiation. " Unpublished. Colapietro, Vincent Michael. Peirce's Approach to the Sep A Semiotic Perspective on Human Undmtanding. New York: State University of New York Press, 1989. Conington, Robert S. An Introduction to C. S. Peirce: Philosopher, Semiotician, and Ecstatic Naturalist. Lanham, Md.: R o m a n & Littlefield, 1993. Cutnot, Claude. Tklhard de Chardin. A Biographical Study. Baltimore: Helicon, 1965. Culliton,Joseph T., C.S.B. A Processive W d Viewfor Pragmatic Christians. New York: Philosophical Library, 1975. Dodson, Edward 0 . The Phenomenon of Man Rmisited. New York: Columbia University Press, 1984. Donceel,Joseph, S.J. PhilosophicalAnthropology.New York: Sheed &Ward, 1967.

. "Teilhard de Chardin: Scientist or Philosopher?" International Philosophical Quarterly, 5 (1965),246-66. Donoghue, Denis. "Review of Bertrand Russell." In The New Ymk Times Book Reuiew, October 31,1993, p. 7. Dykuizen, George. "An Early Chapter in the Life of John Dewey." Journal of the Histmy ofldeas, 14 (1952), 563-72. Eames, S. Morris. Pragmatic Naturalism: An Introduction. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1977. Edwards, Jonathan. A Treatise of Religious Affectim. Ed. John E. Smith. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959. Elliott, F. G., S.J. "The World-Vision of Teilhard de Chardin." International Philosophical Quarter&,1 (1961), 620-47. Fagothey, Austin, S.J. Rzght and Reason: Ethics in Theory and Practice. 6th ed. St. Louis: Mosby, 1976. Finnis,John. Natural Law and Natural Rights. Oxford: Clarendon, 1980. Fisch, Max H., ed. Writings of Charles S. Peirce: A Chronological Edition. 4 vols. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982-1986. Fontinell, Eugene. SeG God, and Immortalq: A Jamesian Investigation. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986. Gill, John G. "Teilhard and Religous Humanism." Religious Humanism, 3 (l969), 169-72. Gouinlock&mes. John Dewey's Philosophy of Value. New York: Humanities Press, 1972. Gould, StephenJay. "The Piltdown Conspiracy." Natural Histmy, 89 (AUgust, l98O), 2-28. Hook, Sidney. John Dewey. An Intelletual Pmhait. New York: John Day, 1939. . The Questfor Being and Other Studies in Naturalism and Humanism. New York: Dell, 1963. Hume, David. A Treatise of Human Nature. Ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge. 2nd rev. ed. by P. H. Nidditch. Oxford: Clarendon, 1980. Huxley,Julian. Introduction. In Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenumenon of Man. Trans. by Bernard Wall. New York: Harper & Row, 1965. Pp. 11-28. Johann, Robert 0 . "Lonergan and Dewey on Judgment." International Philosophical Quarterly, 11 (1971), 461-74. King, Thomas, SJ. "The Milieu Teilhard Left Behind." America, 152 , (1985), 249-53. . Teilhard'sMysticism of Knowing. New York: Seabury, 1981. Kobler,John. "The Priest Who Haunts the World." The Saturday Evening Post, October 12, 1963, pp. 43-51. Lonergan, Bernard J. F. h i a t : A Study of Human Understanding. New York: Harper & Row, 1978.

-

161

162

-.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Method in Theology. New York: Seabury, 1972. Lovejoy, Arthur 0. The Thirteen Pragmatism and Other Essays. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1963. Lubac, Henri de, S.J. The Religion of Teilhard de Chardin. Trans. RenC Hague. New York: DesclCe, 1967. La pensie religieuse du P&e Teilhard de Chardin. Paris: ~ditionsMontaigne, 1962. Lukas, Mary. "Teilhard and the Piltdown Hoax." America, 144 (1981), 425-27. ,and Ellen Lukas. Teilhard. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1981. Maritain,Jacques. Man and the State. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1951. Medewar, P. B. "Critical Notice." Mind, 70 (1961), 99-106. Mooney, Christopher, S.J. Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ. Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1968. Moorehead, Caroline. Bertrand Russell. A Lye. New York: Viking, 1993. Murphey, Murray G. The Deoelopmt of P k e ' s Philosophy. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1961. O'Connell, Robert J., S.J. Teilhard's Vision o f the Past: The Making o f a Method. New York: Fordham University Press, 1982. Orange, Donna. Peirce's Conception of God: A Developmental Study. L u b bock, Tex.: Institute for Studies in Pragmatism, 1984. Penfield, Wilder. The Mystmy of Mind. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975. Peny, Ralph Barton. The Thought and Character of WilliamJames, 2 vols. Boston: Little, Brown, 1935. Popper, Karl P., and John C. Eccles, eds. The Selfand Its Brain. New York: Springer International, 1977. Potter, Vincent, G., S.J. Charles S. Peirce: On N m and Ideals. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1969. Reprinted (with new Introduction by Stanley M. Harrison) by: New York: Fordham University, Press, 1997. . "Vaguely Like a Man." In God Knowable and Unknowable. Ed. by Robert J. Roth, S.J. New York: Fordham University Press, 1973. Pp. 241-54. Rawls, John. A Theory @Justice. Cambridge: The Belknap press of the Harvard University Press, 1971. Rockefeller, Steven C. John Dauqr: Religious Faith and Democratic Humanism. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991. Rockmore, Tom, and Beth J. Singer, eds., Antifoundationalism: Old and New.Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992. Rorty, Richard. Consequences of Pragmatism: Essays: 1972-1 980. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1982.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

163

Rosenthal, Sandra B. "The Individual, the Community, and the Reconstruction of Values." In Philosophy and theReconstruction of Culture:Pragmatic Essays after Dauey. Ed. John J. Stuhr. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993. Pp. 59-77. . "Peirce's Theory of PerceptualJudgment: An Ambiguity." Journal ofthe History of Ideas, 7 (l969), 303-14. . "Pragmatism and the Reconstruction of Metaphysics: Toward a New Understanding of Foundations." In Antifoundationalism: Old and New. Ed. Tom Rockmore and Beth J. Singer. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992. Pp. 165-88. Roth, Robert J., sj. American Religious Philosophy. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1967. -. "Anderson on Peirce's Concept of Abduction: Further Reflections." Transactions of the CharZes S. Peirce Son'eQ, 24 (1988), 131-39. , British Empiricism and Anzerican Pragmatism. New York: Fordham Univeresity Press, 1993. -. "Did Peirce Answer Hume on Necessary Connection?" The Revieu ofMetaphysics, 38 (l985), 867-80. . "Feature Book Review of John Dewey Religious Faith and Democracy. "Intaational Philosophical Quarterly, 33 (l993), 117-22. . "How 'Closed' is John Dewey's Natudism?" International Philosophical Quarterly, 3 (1963), 106-20. -. "Is Peirce's Pragmatism Anti-Jamesian?" Intaational Philosophical Quarterly, (1965), 541-63. John Dew9 and &If-Realization.Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: PrenticeHall, 1962. Reprinted by: Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1978. . "Moral Obligation and God." The New Scholasticism, 54 (1980), 265-78. . "Moral Obligation-With or Without God?" The New Scholasticism, 59 (lQ85),471-74. . "The Philosophical Background of New England Puritanism." International Philosophical Quarterly, 10 (1970), 570-97. -. "The Religious Philosophy of William James." Thought, 41 (1966), 249-81. . "Review of Peirce's Conception of God." International Philosophical QuarterZy, 25 (1985), 213-15. Sesonke, Alexander. Value and Obligation: The Foundations of Ethical Theory. New York: Oxford University Press, 1964. ShafFer, Jerome A. Philosophy of Mind. Notre Dame: Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984. Sleeper, R W. The Necessity OfPragmatism:John Dewey's Cbnqbtion of Philos~ phy. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986. C,

164

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Smith, H. Sheldon, Robert T. Handy, and Lefferts A. Loetscher, eds. Amen'can Christianity:An Historical Interpretation with Rep-esentative Documents. 2 vols. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1960-1963. "A Humanist Manifesto," 11, 249-54. Smith, John E. Ammicas' Philosophical Viion. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1992. .Analogy ofExperience:A n Appoach to UnderstandingReligious Truth. New York: Harper & Row, 19'73. . "Being and Willing." The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, 1 (1987), 24-37. . Experience and God. New York: Oxford University Press, 1968. Reprinted by: New York: Fordharn University Press, 1995. .Purpose and Thought: The Meaning of Pragmatism. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1978. . Reason and God. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1961. . The q i n t of American Philosophy. Rev. ed. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1983. . Thtlnes in American Philosophy. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1970. Spencer, Frank. Piltdown: A Seientz$cFbrge~y.New York: Oxford University , Press, 1990. . TheP i l t d m Papers 1908-1 955: The Correspondence and OtherDocuments Relating to the Piltdown Fbrgey (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. Stuhr, John J., ed. Philosophy and the Reconstruction of Cultury Pragmatic Essays after Deuqr. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993. Tisch, Joseph Le Sage. "Religion for the Space Age." Religious Humanism, 3 (1969), 161-66. Turrisi, Patricia A. "Peirce's Logic of Discovery: Abduction and the Universal Categories." Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Society, 26 (lggO), 465-97. Whitehead, Alfred North. Process and Reality: A n Essay in Cosmology. New York: Harper & Row, 1960.

Index Abduction, in Peirce, 12-17 Analysis, in Teilhard, 123 Aquinas, Thomas, xii, 118, 128 Aristotle, 3, 13, 128 Atkinson, Brooks, 25n28,96n2, 97nn5-6 Augustine, 117-18 Barthelemy-Madaule, Madelaine, 114-15 Belief, in pragmatism, 4-5 Berkeley, George, 9 Bernstein, Richard J., 176,40-41 Blackham, H . b 110n7 Blewett, John, sj., xi Boring, Edwin G., 12nl Brent,Joseph, 75-76,96-97 Brook Farm, xiv Burt, Donald X., o.s.A.,54-55 Campbell, Keith, 156 Christianity, in Teilhard, 140 Christogenesis, in Teilhard, 140, 140n45 Clarke, W. Norris, sj., 132, 154 Community, and God, in James, 88; in Peirce, 81, 100 Concrete reasonableness, in Peirce, 39,78-79,99 Consciousness, in Teilhard, 129-30 Consequences, in moral theory, 36-38 Cook,James Edward, 13n3 Cuenot, Claude, 107nl Culliton, Joseph T., c.s.B., xvi Darwin, Charles, 147-48; in Dewey, 34; in James, 23-24; in Peirce, 18; in Teilhard, 124 Dawson, Charles, 110-1 1 -.. de Lubac, Henri, sj., 110 Descartes, Ren6, 4, 8, 45, 153

Dewey, John, Art as Experience, 30,40, 46,91; A CornmonFaith, 40, 50, 103104; consequences, in ethics, 37-44; Darwin, 34; Democrag and Education, 2,44,52-53; "The Development of American Pragmatism," 34; Essays in Expmenence and Logic, 27-28; Ethics, 48-49,50-51; evolution, 34; experience, 27-34; Experience and Education, 52: Experience and Nature, 50; God, 103-105; How We Think, 27-28; Human Nature and Gmduct, 27,3135,49-50; humanism, 2; hypothesis, 27-35,66; immanence, 102-104; Individualism Old and New, 2,90; "The Influence of Darwin on Philose phy," 34; insight, 28; "Intelligence and Morals," 51; intuition, 30-31, 63, 65; Logic: The Theory of Inquiry, 1-2,29,34,63-64; moral theory, 37-45,47-53, 55; naturaiism, 2; "The Need for a Recovery of Philos ophy," 31; Reconstruction in Philosophy, 2, 29, 37-38,41; religion, xiii, 89-90,103-106; right, moral, 53; teleology, 34, 68; transcendental, 9192,104-105; wrong, moral, 53 Dodson, Edward O., 115-16,124-26 Donceel,Joseph, s.J., llOn9, 112n18, 126-27,153-54,1556 Donoghue, Denis, 55-56 Dykhuizen, George, 89 n28

.

Eames, S. Morris, 2 Eccles, John C., 156 Edwards,Jonathan, 84,143 Elliott, F. G., sj., 113-14 Emerson, Ralph h d o , xiv, 83, 95-97 Empiricism, xvi, 3-4,9-10 Energy, tangential and radial, in Teilhard, 129-30

166

INDEX

Evolution, in Dewey, 34; in James, 23-26; in Peirce, 16-19; in pragmatism, 147-48; in Teilhard, 120-35, 137-38,140,145-46 Experience, in James, 19-23; funded, 15,26,66; in pragmatism, 3-9

James, William, community and God, 88; Darwin, 23-24; Essays in Radical Empiricism, 9; evolution, 23-26; experience, 19-23; funded, 15, 26, 66; God, 83-89, 100-102; hypothesis, 19-27; immanence, 100-102; introspection, 8, 10; intuition, 25; Lamarck, 23-24; Leibniz, 82; The Fathothey, Austin, sj., 56-57,56Meaning of Tmth, 9,36; "The Moral 57nn25-30,93 Philosopher and the Moral Life," Fay, Harriet Melusina (Mrs. C. S. 39,46; moral theory, 36-37,39-40; Peirce) ,96 necessary propositions, 20-25; A Finnis,John, 46-47,58-59,149 Pluralistic Universe, 82-83, 101; PragFisch, Max, 13n4 ~ t i s m26,36-40,66,82-83,87-89, , Free will, 150 100-102; ThePrincipb of Psychology, Fruitlands, xiv 8, 10, 19, 25, 34, 149-50; psychogenisis, 19; radical empiricism, xviii, Generals, 5,lO-11,64-65,148 9-10; "The Reflex Arc and TheGill,John G., 110n7 ism," 83; religion, 83-89; Some Prob God, 6-7; in Dewey, 89-90,103-105; lems of Philosophy, 72; Spencer, 23; in James, 83-89, 100-102; in Peirce, transcendental, 83-89, 100-102; 76-82, 94-100; in Teilhard, 117, The Varieties of Religious Experience, 138,142-46; and pragmatic maxim, 83-86, 101; The Will to Believe, 39, 81 83-87,89,101 Gonsalves, Milton A, 57n25 Johann, Robert O., 69n3 Gbuinlock,James, 41 Gould, Stephen Jay, 110-1 1 Kant, Immanuel, 25,128 Great Awakening, 84 Keith, Arthur, 110 Ketner, Kenneth Laine, 13n3 Hegel, G. W. F., 90-92 King, Thomas, s.J., 107nl,108n3,112 Hook, Sidney, 90n29,92 Kobler,John, 109n5 Humanism, in Dewey, 2 Hume, David, xvi, 9,10, 13,21,45,122 Huxley, Julian, 79n17,109,121,134 Lamarck,J. B., in James, 23-24; in Peirce, 18; in Teilhard, 124 Huybens, Maurits, sj., 112 Hypothesis, 4-5, in Dewey, 102-104; Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, 82,101 in James, 100-102; in Peirce, 94Locke, John, xvi, 8,21,25 100; in Teilhard, 143 Logic, in Peirce, 16-17 Lonergan, Bernard, s.J., 69-70,149 Love, in Peirce, 100; in Teilhard, Idealsim, xvi, 7 135-38 Immanence, 94-106; in Dewey, 102Lovejoy, Arthur O., 11nl 104; in James, 100-102; in Peirce, Lukas, Mary, 108nl,111; and Ellen, 94-100; in Teilhard, 143 108nl Immortality, 137,149,151 Insight, in Dewey, 28; in Finnis, 46-47; in Lonergan, 69; in Peirce, 17,46 Maher, Michael, s.J., 13 Instinct, in Peirce, 16-17 Maritain,Jacques, 57-58 Introspection, in James, 8,10 Medawar, P. B., 110 Intuition, 148-49; in Dewey, 30-31; in Method, in Teilhard, 110n9, 113-16 Finnis, 46-47; in James, 25; in moral Mill, James, 9, 13, 21 theory, 45-47 Mill,John Stuart, 9

167

INDEX

Mooney, Christopher F., sj., 141 Moore, Edward C., 17n6 Moorehead, Caroline, 56n22 Moral theory, in Dewey, 37-45,47-53; in Finnis, 46-47; in James, 39,46; in Peirce, 39; pragmatic, 6, 36-60 Mwphey, Murray G., 75n10

Pragmatic maxim, and God, in Peirce, 83,87 Pragmatic naturalism, 2-3 Pragmaticism, 1,14 Pragmatism, traits of, 1-7 Psychogenesis, in James, 19 Psychology, 12-1 3

Naturalism, in Dewey, 2 Necessary propositions, in James, 20-25 Noogenesis, in Teilhard, 134

Radical empiricism, in James, xviii, 9-1 0 Radical pragmatism, xviii, 9-10 Rawls, John, 59 Reflection, 18; in Teilhard, 133,144, 146 Religion, 6-7; in Dewey, 89-90,103106; in James, 83-89; in Peirce, 76, 97-100; and science, 97-98; in Teilhard, 138 Right, mpral, in Dewey, 53 Robin, Richard S., 17n6 Rockefeller, Steven C., 42,74n9,119 Rosenial, Sandra B., 17,41-42 Roth, RobertJ., sj., xin2,43,68, 71n6,

O'Connell, RobertJ., sj., 110n9 Obligation, moral, unconditioned, 53-60,93 Omega, in Teilhard, 138, 140, 144, 146,151 Orange, Donna, 74n9,77-80 Orthogenesis, in Teilhard, 124-26 Ought, moral, 47-53,93 Parker, Theodore, 83 Peirce, Charles Sanders, abduction, 12-1 7; The Collected Papers, 14-18, 39,46,66,76-87,94-100,148; community, and God, 81, 100; concrete reasonableness, 39, 78-79, 99; Darwin, 18; evolution, 18-19; God, 7682,94-100; hypothesis, 12-17; immanence, 94-100; insight, 17,46; instinct, 16-17; Lamarck, 18; love, 100; moral theory, 39; perceptual judgment, 17n6, pragmatic maxim, and God, 83,87; religion, 76,97100; science, 97-98; summum bonum, 39,73,77-80,99-100; synechism, 78, 122; teleology, 79; transcendental, 76-87,94-100 Penfield, Wilder, 155-56 Perry, Ralph Barton, 101-102 Person, 7 ;in pragmatism, 150-52; and religion, in Teilhard, 138, 151, 154; spiritual, 150-55 Plato, xii, 152 Pollock, Robert C., xii Popper, Karl P., 156 Potter, Vincent G., s.J., 18n7, 47, 80n21

.

74n9,79n16,80n21,85,112,119,

147 Russell, Bertrand, 55-56 Ryle, Gilbert, 152

Science, and religion, in Peirce, 97-98; in Teilhard, 139 Scientific method, xvi-xvii Sesonke, Alexander, 54-55 ShaEer,Jerome, 157 Smith, Grafton Elliot, 110 Smith,John E., 43-43,747~9 Socialization,in Teilhard, 134-37 Soul, 149-55 Spectator theory of knowledge, 4 Spencer, Frank, 111 Spencer, Herbert, 23 Spiritual, 149-55; and kee will, 150; and religion, 151 Stuhr, John J., 42n9 Summum bonum, in Peirce, 39, 77-80, 99-1 00 Synechism, in Peirce, 78,122 Synthesis, in pragmatism, 122; in Teilhard, 122-23 Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre, sj., analysis, 122-23; cerebration, 131; Chris

INDEX

tianity, 117-18,141-44; Christogenesis, 140, 140n45; consciousness, 129-30, 137-39; Darwin, 124; T hDivine Milieu,108,113, 141-45; energy, tangential and radial, 129-31, 154; evolution, its role, xv, 112-27; God, 116-17; immanence, 138,143; immortality, 137, 151; Lamarck, 124; life of, 107-111; love, 135-38; method, 110,110n9, 113-16; noogenesis, 134,140; Omega, 108,125,138,140,144, 146, 151; orthogenesis, 124-26; person, and religion, w,138,151, 154; The Phenomenon ofMan, 112-13, 116-18,120-25,127-31,133-40; reflection, 143, 144, 146; religion and science, 112-13, 139-41; science, its role, 139; sekonsciousness, 132; socialization, 134-37; soul, and body, 154; synthesis, 123, 139-40; teleology, 123, 140; transcendental, 138, 143; within and without, 128-30

Teleology, in Dewey, 34; in Peirce, 79; in Teilhard, 123, 140 Thoreau, Henry David, xiv, 56 Tisch,Joseph Le Sage, 110n7 Transcendence, cognitional level, 61-72; in Lonergan, 69-70; in pragmatists, 62-72; moral level, 72-74 Transcendental, 74-93; in Dewey, 9192,104-105; in James, 83-89,100102; in Peirce, 76-87,94-100; in Teilhard, 138, 143 Transcendentalism,xiii-xiv Turrisi, Patricia A., l7n6 Unconditioned, moral, 93 Walden Pond, xiv Whitehead, Alfred North, 125, 128 Within and without, in Teilhard, 128-30 Woodward, Arthur Smith, 110 Wrong, moral, in Dewey, 53

Radical pragmatism: an alternative

Pragmatism: An Open Question

Pragmatism

The Hindus- An Alternative History

The Hindus: An Alternative History

Social Anthropology: An Alternative Introduction

The Hindus: An Alternative History

Contemporary Pragmatism

Pragmatism and Social Theory

Putnam, Pragmatism And Dewey

Meaning, Truth And Pragmatism

Terry Jones' Barbarians: An Alternative Roman History

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Artists' Magazines: An Alternative Space for Art

A Companion to Pragmatism

Lectures on Pragmatism (1903)

9 11 was there an alternative

9-11: Was There An Alternative?

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

The New Dinosaurs: An Alternative Evolution

The new dinosaurs: an alternative evolution

Adam's Alternative Sports Day- An Asperger Story

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Alternative Reproductive Tactics: An Integrative Approach

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Adam's Alternative Sports Day: An Asperger Story

Contemporary Pragmatism 6-2 December 2009 (Contemporary Pragmatism S.)

Law, Pragmatism, and Democracy

Deconstruction and Pragmatism

The logic of pragmatism: an examination of John Dewey's logic

Pragmatism and Social Theory

Radical pragmatism: an alternative

Pragmatism: An Open Question

Pragmatism

The Hindus- An Alternative History

The Hindus: An Alternative History

Social Anthropology: An Alternative Introduction

The Hindus: An Alternative History

Contemporary Pragmatism

Pragmatism and Social Theory

Putnam, Pragmatism And Dewey

Meaning, Truth And Pragmatism

Terry Jones' Barbarians: An Alternative Roman History

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Artists' Magazines: An Alternative Space for Art

A Companion to Pragmatism

Lectures on Pragmatism (1903)

9 11 was there an alternative

9-11: Was There An Alternative?

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

The New Dinosaurs: An Alternative Evolution

The new dinosaurs: an alternative evolution

Adam's Alternative Sports Day- An Asperger Story

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Alternative Reproductive Tactics: An Integrative Approach

Buprenorphine: An Alternative Treatment for Opioid Dependence

Adam's Alternative Sports Day: An Asperger Story

Contemporary Pragmatism 6-2 December 2009 (Contemporary Pragmatism S.)

Law, Pragmatism, and Democracy

Deconstruction and Pragmatism

The logic of pragmatism: an examination of John Dewey's logic

Pragmatism and Social Theory

Recommend Documents