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Controversy
in the Life and Teaching of Philosophy
by Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.
PART 2
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Before I proceed now to comment on the bearing
of dialectical work on philosophy, let me repeat
that I have merely summarized our conclusions. I
have not tried to establish their validity. There
are certainly no a priori reasons why they
must be true. Their truth is entirely a matter of
fact, ascertained by us through our experience of
trying to discover the controversy about such
subjects as freedom. Anyone who wishes to ascertain
the truth for himself must submit himself to a
similar experience.
Taking the truth of our conclusions for granted,
let me proceed now to develop their consequences
for the study and future of philosophy. In the time
that remains, there are four points I would like to
make briefly.
First, a division of labor is needed within the
philosophical enterprise as a whole. The problem of
dealing with the diversity of philosophies is quite
distinct from the problems of philosophical inquiry
itself. To solve the problems of philosophy, we
must make and defend judgments that answer
questions about the objects of philosophical
inquiry. To solve the problems raised by the
diversity of philosophies, we must make and defend,
not philosophical judgments, but judgments about
philosophical thought. Here, then, are two
different kinds of work -- the work of
philosophizing and the dialectical work of
constructing the controversies that are implicit in
the diversity of philosophies.
Conceivably, both kinds of work might be done by
the same individual. There would, however, still be
a tension between them which would make it
impossible for one man to perform both tasks at the
same time. Actually, it is unlikely that any
individual could discharge both tasks well, even if
he had the talent and skill required for each. Each
is so arduous and exacting that it would be very
difficult for an individual to meet the demands of
both upon his time and energy. Prudence, therefore,
recommends a division of labor in order to
accomplish the objectives of dialectical work, in
addition to carrying on philosophical inquiry
itself.
Because the proposed division of labor has yet
to be instituted on a scale proportionate to the
magnitude of the dialectical as well as the
philosophical task, little dialectical work has so
far been done. In the whole history of thought, the
only effort that even remotely resembles a separate
undertaking of the task of neutral dialectical
construction is to be found in Abelard's Sic et
Non and Peter Lombard's Book of
Sentences, and these make their dialectical
contribution to theology, not philosophy. The fact
that constructive dialectical work has not been
done in philosophy explains why philosophical
controversy is still only implicit in the record of
philosophical discussion.
The philosophical enterprise thus exhibits a
remarkable deficiency. In the absence of adequate
dialectical work, something essential is missing,
and philosophy falls short of its own ideal. "The
ideal of the great philosophers," Jacques Maritain
has written me,
- is to achieve agreement, disagreement, and
rational debate, but it is for each one an
accompaniment of his own individual enterprise
and within his own individual mind -- precisely
because the purpose of each one is to embrace
and encompass the whole universe of objective
truth and rational debate within his own mind.
But no philosopher succeeds in achieving the
ideal in question, by reason of the limitations
of human nature. As a result, the necessity
appears of the special branch of philosophy and
the special undertaking which is dialectical
work.
What is necessary in the life of philosophy is
also necessary in the teaching of it. In a sense,
the primary use of dialectic is pedagogical or
propadeutic. It does not solve the problems of
philosophy; it merely prepares the mind for the
task of solving them. Given the plurality of
philosophies, it is not enough for the student to
learn why the adherents of a particular philosophy
think it is true. Such truth as it possesses must
be seen by the student in the light of the
positions that that particular philosophy takes in
every controversy to which it contributes. But
until enough dialectical work has been done to
present such controversies explicitly to the mind,
the best possible instruction will tend to give the
student the subjective disagreements and the
polemical refutations which adherents of this or
that particular philosophy usually substitute for
the explication of genuine controversy. The best
teaching of philosophy that is so far possible is
not good enough.
What I have just said applies to Thomism as well
as to any other philosophy, perennial or otherwise.
It applies to the teaching of philosophy in
Catholic as well as in secular institutions. But
here I am aware of certain differences between the
teaching of philosophy in a Catholic and in a
secular college.
If I understand Professor Gilson's views on this
matter, philosophy cannot be studied in a secular
institution as a means of acquiring wisdom. The
students are much too young to acquire wisdom, even
secular wisdom, while in college or graduate school
[1].
If, then, secular institutions persist in trying to
teach philosophy, the only course Professor Gilson
leaves open to them, it would seem, is a
dialectical teaching of the subject.
On the other hand, according to Professor
Gilson, and here Father Gerard Smith joins him,
some philosophical wisdom can be acquired by the
young in Catholic institutions, but only on
condition that philosophy is taught under the
auspices of dogmatic theology and in the light of
faith [2].
Since in their view it remains philosophy even when
so taught, and since Professor Gilson admits that
conflicting philosophies exist and are always
possible within the framework of Catholic dogma,
the task of teaching philosophy even in a Catholic
institution cannot now be adequately discharged by
adherents of this or that philosophical doctrine.
Nor can it be improved until the major
philosophical controversies within the tradition of
Catholic thought have been explicitly constructed.
In addition, I would think that Catholic
philosophy, in any of its forms, cannot be well
taught until the dialectical work is done which
places Catholic doctrines in the larger context of
the philosophical controversies that represent the
whole of Western thought.
I turn from the role of dialectic in the
teaching of philosophy to its bearing on a problem
which has become clear only in modern times. That
is the problem of the difference between philosophy
and empirical science. In my judgment, Maritain's
Degrees of Knowledge is the best
contemporary statement of the problem; it offers a
solution that deserves everyone's attention. But
even when we understand the difference between the
objects of philosophical and of empirical inquiry,
and even when we understand the difference in their
methods, which enable each to solve problems that
are entirely beyond the competence of the other, we
still do not understand certain differences between
philosophy and science that perplex everyone who
candidly examines these two intellectual efforts as
human undertakings. Each enterprise has a life of
its own, which differs strikingly from that of the
other in such matters as the conditions of its
progress, or the way in which its representatives
agree, disagree, and deal with their
differences.
Understanding the critical importance of
constructive dialectical work in philosophy will
help us to understand these contrasts between
science and philosophy. There may be some problems
on the fringes of empirical science, especially in
physics and psychology, which are
quasi-philosophical to the extent that they cannot
be solved by empirical methods. These aside, a
purely scientific problem is one which can be
solved by experimentation or whatever other
observational techniques will obtain the special
data needed to test competing hypotheses or
theories. Within the sphere of such problems, there
is absolutely no need for dialectical work.
Dialectical constructions are not needed to
formulate objective agreements or disagreements
among scientists. When scientists disagree about
any matter which is susceptible of experiment, they
construct an experiment, not a debate, as the best
available means of clarifying and settling the
issue [3].
In other words, the very methods scientists use to
solve their problems, they can also use to resolve
disagreements when they are confronted with
competing solutions.
But while philosophers can, as individuals,
propound solutions to their problems without the
help of dialectic, they cannot collectively begin
to resolve their differences until their agreements
and disagreements have been objectified by the work
of dialectical construction. What now passes for
philosophical discussion of such differences hardly
suffices. It merely perpetuates the
misunderstandings, the subjective disagreements,
and the polemical refutations to which individual
philosophers are prone. Let me say at once that the
fault lies not with the philosophers as human
beings. They are not, as compared with scientists,
an inferior breed. Rather it is something in the
very nature of philosophy and in the methods of
philosophical inquiry which makes it difficult to
tell whether philosophers are answering the same
question about the same object, and difficult,
consequently, to determine whether or not they
objectively disagree.
The necessity of dialectical work in philosophy
but not in science thus explains the striking
difference between philosophers and scientists so
far as genuine agreement and disagreement are
concerned. It also explains the difference between
progress in science and in philosophy.
Progress in philosphy: is extremely difficult to
define and measure, especially if we make the
mistake of adopting the special kind of progress
that is made in science as the standard for
measuring progress in any intellectual pursuit.
That kind of progress is not possible in
philosophy, and what is possible there cannot be
measured in that way. Without attempting an
analysis of progress in philosophy, I would
nevertheless like to suggest that if philosophy is
to make greater progress in the future than it has
so far achieved in twenty-five centuries of Western
thought, the division of labor I have proposed must
be instituted and an adequate amount of dialectical
work must be done in the centuries ahead.
Advances in science are not accomplished merely
by the formulation of new theories or the
improvement of old ones. Such theoretical
developments often outrun the data needed to test
them. Additions to scientific knowledge finally
depend upon the success of empirical research to
obtain the decisive data.
In philosophy, the decisive data are always the
same -- the facts of common experience. The
formulation of new theories and the improvement of
old ones certainly constitute one condition of
philosophical progress, on the side of an ever
expanding envelopment of the truth about the
objects of philosophical inquiry. But such
envelopment includes the persistence and
proliferation of philosophical errors as well as an
increase in the amount of philosophical truth that
is available to the human race at any given time.
Hence the progressive envelopment of philosophical
truth by a multiplicity of doctrines must be
matched by a progressive development of dialectical
truth about their diversity. The controversies that
underlie this diversity must be constructed if
philosophical differences are ever to contribute
more to understanding than they do to confusion.
Dialectical work is, therefore, the other condition
of philosophical progress, on the side of the
contribution to the pursuit of truth which can be
made by a rational debate of genuine issues
[4].
This brings me to the last observation I would
like to lay before you. One consequence of the
conclusions we have reached is the hope that the
future of philosophy will be quite different from
its past. Philosophy, past and present, has not
been accompanied by adequate dialectical work.
Certain deficiencies in the philosophical
enterprise as a whole are largely attributable to
that deficiency. Hence if, by the expedient of a
division of labor, that deficiency were to be
repaired; and if, in the future, as the diversity
of philosophical views continues to multiply, the
dialectical effort were to keep pace with the
growing amplitude of the discussion, it might be
reasonable to expect a brighter future for
philosophy. I must confess that nothing else I can
imagine holds out such hope.
I am not thinking here only of greater progress
in philosophy, though that, in my judgment, would
be the chief benefit to come in the future from the
full performance of the dialectical service to
philosophical thought [5].
I am thinking also of the cultural status and
stature of philosophy, as compared with science and
poetry.
We accept the fact that poets differ, without
expecting them, as poets, to agree, disagree, or
settle their differences by controversy. But the
way in which philosophers differ, without clearly
agreeing or disagreeing in an objective manner, and
without achieving a decent measure of rational
debate, is and has long been a public scandal. The
general opprobrium philosophy has suffered in
consequence is not entirely unmerited.
In our century, the belittlers of philosophy
often contend that the great philosophical systems
are like poetry. Unfortunately, the charge has
plausibility, because, when philosophy is not
accompanied by constructive dialectical work, it
cannot help appearing to be more like poetry than
it really is and less like science. It is not
enough to hold, as we do, that objective
disagreement and rational debate are possible in
philosophy as they are not in poetry. While it is
true that except for this possibility dialectical
work would be as inapplicable to philosophy as it
is to poetry, we must do more than assert the
possibility [6].
We must demonstrate it in a manner open to
everyone's inspection. The false image of itself
that philosophy now presents must be corrected in
the public mind by constructive dialectical
work.
Suppose for the moment that I am right in
thinking that such work is needed to improve
philosophy in the line of its own development, and
to win for it the respect it deserves, even in a
culture where it must stand comparison with
science. Why, then, has the doing of such work as
an essential though separate part of the
philosophical enterprise been so long delayed? One
answer may be that men whose interest is in
philosophy naturally wish to be philosophers and
are unwilling to be diverted to the separate and
subordinate dialectical task that some would have
to devote themselves to in an actual division of
labor. But that is not the whole answer.
In Western culture, empirical science and
speculative philosophy are about of equal age. Each
can look back upon twenty-five centuries of
recorded effort. If we think of science with
experimentation as empirical science finally
grown mature, then the maturation of science has
occurred in the last three hundred years. There is
no evidence of a comparable maturation in
philosophy. We can, however, imagine what it might
be. Comparable to the transition in science from
merely exploratory observation to the construction
of critical experiments, the transition from the
relatively futile discussion of philosophical
differences to the construction of fruitful
controversy may bring philosophy to its maturity in
centuries still to come.
It may seem astounding that the philosophical
enterprise should be so slow in maturing and that,
as compared with what it may still achieve, its
accomplishments so far are good mainly as a promise
of what can be done. Yet what is true of living
organisms may also be true of philosophy as a
living thing. The late maturity of the higher
organisms is a sign of their greater potentiality,
which must be actualized in the course of a longer
development. In its own line of development,
science may have advanced further than philosophy
has in its, but philosophy may have much further to
go and may therefore need more time.
In addition, philosophical problems are
generally more difficult than scientific problems,
not only humanly speaking but also intrinsically.
For men to conduct philosophical discussion well is
more difficult than it is for them to carry on
scientific research in an efficient manner. It is
easier to lift research to the high plane of the
perfect experiment than it is to lift discussion to
the high plane of the ideal debate. Here as before,
the greater difficulty of the philosophical effort
may be relative to human nature as a whole, not
just relative to the power of the human mind.
Twenty-five hundred years is a short period in
the span of human life on earth. It should not tax
our imaginations, therefore, to contemplate a
future in which long awaited developments may still
occur, such as world peace, for example. The
development of philosophy is no less possible or
likely. What Dante said of world peace, with the
vision of man's whole future on earth before him,
might also be said of the maturation of philosophy.
It will happen because it is necessary to the
fulfillment of the intellectual powers of the human
race as a whole.
Endnotes:
1. See his essay, Thomas
Aquinas and Our Colleagues, Princeton
University Press, 1953. Return
2. See Gilson, op. cit., pp.
14ff. See also Father Smith's paper, "The Position
of Philosophy in a Catholic College," in
Proceedings of the American Catholic
Philosophical Association, Vol. XXIX, 1955: pp.
20-40. Return
3. Precisely in proportion to
the degree to which dialectic is applicable to
theoretical differences among scientists, these
differences are philosophical rather than
scientific. Return
4. In 1916, Professor Lovejoy,
in his Presidential Address before the American
Philosophical Association, entitled "On Some
Conditions of Progress in Philosophical Inquiry,"
called for "a program of methodical, consecutive,
precise joining of issues," (Philosophical
Review, Vol. XXVI, 1917: pp. 123-163). I
personally owe to Professor Arthur O. Lovejoy my
own first conception of the dialectical task and my
understanding of the service dialectical work can
perform to advance philosophical thought. I would
also like to refer the reader to an earlier
projection of a plan for dialectical work, with an
eye on the immediate future, in an essay I wrote
for The New Scholasticism, entitled "The
Next Twenty-five Years in Philosophy" (Vol. XXVI,
No. 1, January, 1951: pp. 81-110). Return
5. We may gain some impression
of how serviceable dialectical work might be to the
progress of philosophy, if we consider the service
which Abelard's Sic et Non and Peter
Lombard's Book of Sentences rendered
theology. The dialectical tasks these books
performed brought order out of the chaos of
apparently conflicting opinions which had
accumulated from centuries of theological
speculation. Without that preparatory work having
been done for them, even the genius of St.
Bonaventure, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Duns Scotus
might not have been able to produce their great and
clearly divergent theological doctrines. But, as
Dr. Bird has pointed out, the dialectical task
performed for theology by Abelard and Peter Lombard
was far easier than the comparable dialectical task
would be for philosophy. Abelard and Peter Lombard,
Dr. Bird writes, "enjoyed a common deposit of
faith, which assured a common ground for questions
and answers and a common language in which to
express them. Neither exists today." (loc. cit.)
Nor have they ever existed in the sphere of
philosophy. Return
6. Philosophy's distinctive
character is revealed by the fact that, while
dialectic is inapplicable to poetry and unnecessary
in science, it is both applicable to philosophy and
also necessary for the full achievement of
philosophy's objectives. Return
Return
to Part One
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