The only standard we have for
judging all of our social, economic, and political
institutions and arrangements as just or unjust, as
good or bad, as better or worse, derives from our
conception of the good life for man on earth, and
from our conviction that, given certain external
conditions, it is possible for men to make good
lives for themselves by their own efforts.
Mortimer J. Adler
The question about man has been asked in a
variety of ways. We are all familiar with the ways
in which philosophers and theologians have
traditionally posed it: What is man? How shall
man's nature be defined? What is the essence of
humanity? And, recently, existentialist thinkers
have appeared to strike out in another direction by
asking, Who is man? In all these forms the question
tends to bypass or ignore the contributions of the
biological and behavioral sciences to the study of
man. No scientist who understood his business would
attempt to answer questions couched in such terms,
though he would, quite rightly, suspect that much
knowledge in his possession and still more within
his competence to acquire would have critical
relevance to any answer that might be given to
questions thus formulated. As thus formulated, the
question about man has a philosophical or
theological cast that tends to protect it from the
intrusion of scientific evidence and tends to
elicit only the kind of answers that theologians
have given in the course of explicating the dogmas
of religious faith, or that philosophers have
discovered by intuition, propounded by reason, or
framed within the systematic context of an over-all
view of the world.
That is why it seems to me preferable to pose
the question in another way and ask how man differs
from everything else on earth -- from inert bodies,
from other living things, especially the higher
forms of animal life, and from machines, especially
such mechanical contrivances as computers or robots
invented to simulate human intelligence in
operation. Asked in this way, the question calls
for a multitude of comparisons -- comparisons of
the sort that biological and behavioral scientists
have carefully and patiently made. Asked in this
way, the question becomes impossible to answer
without consulting all the available scientific
evidence, the relevance of which cannot be doubted
or discounted by evasive tactics on the part of
philosophers or theologians. For all that, the
question thus formulated, is, as we shall see, not
a purely scientific question.
Philosophical analysis plays an indispensable
part in clarifying the question by indicating the
range of the possible answers and also by
determining the criteria for interpreting the
relevance of particular items of evidence. In
addition, it helps us to evaluate the probative
force of the scientific data -- to see, with regard
to this or that piece of evidence, which of the
possible answers it tends to support and the extent
to which it approximates being decisive in the
resolution of the problem.
At the same time, the comparative question about
how man differs from everything else on earth
underlies the traditional philosophical and
theological forms of the question about man that,
on the surface at least, appear to be
non-comparative. To know man's quiddity, to define
human nature or to understand its essence, and even
to speculate about man's identity -- who he is --
presupposes that one knows and understands how man
differs from everything else. This presupposition,
unfortunately, was often overlooked when the
question was traditionally asked by philosophers in
its non-comparative form. They often appeared to
proceed as if they could, by contemplating or by
examining man in isolation from everything else,
reach a definitive answer about his nature,
essence, or identity.
Nevertheless, whether they were aware of it or
not, the answers they did give always contained one
or another of the possible answers to the question
about how man differs, bearing out the point that
the latter question is the inescapable underlying
one in any approach to the consideration of
man.
In The Conditions of Philosophy,[2] I tried to show that
there are some purely philosophical questions, just
as there are some purely scientific questions --
the former being questions that philosophers alone
are competent to answer, just as the latter are
questions that scientists alone are competent to
answer, the answers in both cases having the same
character as knowledge (i.e., reasonable and
criticizable opinion, testable and falsifiable by
experience). The comparative question about man is
neither a purely philosophical nor a purely
scientific question. It is instead what I have
called a mixed question, a question that cannot be
adequately answered either by scientists alone or
by philosophers alone, but only by their
collaboration -- by combining the findings of
scientific investigation with the contributions of
philosophical analysis and criticism.
To say that philosophy and science are knowledge
in the same sense is to say that both are empirical
knowledge: their theories or conclusions are
falsifiable by experience. They have the status of
testable and corrigible opinions, capable of some
relative degree of truth, but never attaining
certitude or finality. But while both are empirical
by virtue of submitting their theories or
conclusions to the test of experience, the
experience that philosophy appeals to is the common
experience of mankind, experience that is possessed
without any effort of investigation, whereas the
experience that science appeals to is special
experience, experience that can be obtained only by
deliberate and methodical investigation.
Science, in other words, is
investigative knowledge about that which is or
happens in the world; philosophy, insofar as it is
knowledge of that which is or happens, is
non-investigative, precisely because it relies on
and appeals to the experience that all men enjoy
and share without any effort of investigation on
their part. [3]
By virtue of the fact that philosophy, employing
com-mon experience, has a method of its own, it
also has certain questions of its own -- questions
that it and it alone is competent to answer,
questions that cannot be answered by scientific and
historical research because they are questions on
which investigation, no matter how ingenious or
extensive, is unable to throw light. Similarly,
there are questions that can be answered solely by
investigation and in the light of the data of
special experience that results from investigation.
These are purely scientific or historical
questions, to the solution of which philosophy can
make no direct contribution. But there are certain
questions which, while subject to investigative
efforts, cannot be adequately solved by
investigation alone. These are
the questions that I have called "mixed" to
indicate that the solution of them depends upon
some combination of philosophical know-ledge with
other forms of empirical knowledge obtained by
investigation, whether by scientific inquiry or by
historical research. [4]
Though this book will, in my judgment, amply
demonstrate that the question about man is a mixed
question, it has not always been recognized to be
one. On the contrary, it has been treated for
almost twenty-five centuries of Western thought as
if it were a purely philosophical question. This is
partly because the question was traditionally posed
in a non-comparative form, and partly because until
recently little scientific evidence was available
for answering the comparative question about how
man differs. Most of the philosophers who proposed
answers did so entirely in terms of philosophical
theories, hypotheses, or conclusions based on
common experience alone.
A few philosophers showed some awareness of
scientific evidence -- evidence obtained by
investigation -- that had some bearing on the
question, but at the time this evidence was either
so slight or so indecisive that even they treated
the question as if it were a purely philosophical
one. It is only in the last hundred years, at the
most, that the mixed character of this question has
forced itself upon our attention; and it is only in
the last hundred years, or even less, that the
mounting masses of scientific evidence from a wide
variety of research pursuits have come to play a
critical role in the consideration. of how man
differs from everything else on earth. Yet even now
there are philosophers who persist in ignoring the
scientific evidence, just as there are scientists
who fail to recognize its philosophical dimensions
and proceed as if their data could solve it without
the help of philosophical analysis.
(4)
A philosophical clarification of the mixed
question about man will, I hope, be achieved in
Chapter 2, where I will try to set forth,
exhaustively, the range of possible answers to a
more general question; namely, how any object that
we can consider differs from any other. The various
possible ways in which any two comparable things
can be said to differ exhaust the ways in which man
can be said to differ from everything else on
earth.
Everyone is familiar with the usual alternative
answers that we give when we are asked how two
things differ: either we say that they differ in
degree or we say that they differ in kind. But
though the words "degree" and "kind" are frequent
and familiar in everyday speech, they are seldom
understood by the persons who use them in ordinary
discourse; nor, as we shall see, is the distinction
between these two modes of difference adequately
grasped by the scientists who use these words. In
addition, the alternatives thus far mentioned --
difference in degree and difference in kind -- by
no means exhaust the possible modes of difference.
A difference in kind may be only apparent, as
compared with one that is real. Since an apparent
difference in kind reduces to a difference in
degree, we need only consider differences in kind
that are real; among these, some are superficial,
and some radical. Hence there are three basically
distinct modes of differences:
1. difference in degree,
2. superficial difference in kind, and
3. radical difference in kind.
These distinctions will, I hope, become clear in
the following chapter, both as they apply to any
two com-parable things and also as they apply to
the comparison of man with anything else. Here I
wish only to point out that unless these
distinctions are made and understood, the various
answers that the philosophers have given to the
question about man cannot be seen as constituting
the opposed positions in a three-sided controversy;
nor, without this philosophical clarification of
the modes of difference, can the scientific
literature bearing on the question be read
critically.
With this philosophical analysis set forth in
Chapter 2, clarifying the question of man's
difference by reference to a framework of possible
answers, I will, in Chapter 3, consider the
different types of evidence that bear on the
question and the conditions under which a decisive
resolution of it may be reached, or at least
something closely approximating a decision in favor
of one as against the other two modes of
difference. And since Chapter 3 will conclude the
introductory part of this book, I will try there to
prepare the reader for the series of chapters that
constitute Part Two, by outlining the course of the
argument that lies ahead -- the sequence of steps
that will bring us to the appraisal we can make at
this time of the state of the mixed question about
man. Then, in Part Three, we will be concerned with
the theoretical and practical differences it makes
how the question about the difference of man is
answered.
When the conflicting answers to a question do
not make a significant difference to us -- either a
difference to the way we think about things and to
what we believe or a difference to the way in which
we act and to the practical policies we adopt the
question is academic in the worst sense of that
term. William James and the pragmatists were quite
right to dismiss such questions as trivial and to
call upon philosophers and men generally to
concentrate on what James called "vital options" --
questions to which the conflicting answers make a
significant difference.
The question about man, with which this book is
concerned, is far from being an academic or trivial
question; it is a vital option in James's sense of
that term. How we answer it makes a great
difference to us -- both to the principles and
policies governing our actions and to many of our
fundamental beliefs and disbeliefs. We tend to be
impatient with extended analyses, elaborate
arguments, and thoroughgoing examinations of
evidence, unless we can foresee that the effort
will be repaid in the form of important practical
or theoretical consequences. A brief preview of the
consequences to be discussed in Part Three may
persuade the reader to be patient with all the
steps of thinking through which he must go in order
to have a clear and solid foundation for assessing
the difference it makes how man differs from other
things.
We will find, on the one hand, that it makes a
great practical difference whether we say that man
differs only in degree from other things or that he
differs in kind as well. And, on the other hand, we
will find that regarding all of man's differences
in kind as only superficial or regarding at least
some of them as radical has serious theoretical
consequences -- for science, for philosophy, and
for religion.
The practical consequences of regarding man as
differing only in degree from other animals all
turn on the abrogation of the distinction we make
between persons and things -- a distinction that
involves a difference in kind. The dignity of man
is the dignity of the human being as a person -- a
dignity that is not possessed by things. Precisely
because we do not attribute to them the dignity of
persons, we feel justified in treating things --
other animals or machines -- as means, as
instruments to be used or exploited. The dignity of
man as a person underlies the moral imperative that
enjoins us never to use other human beings merely
as means, but always to respect them as ends to be
served.
The condemnation of slavery and other forms of
human exploitation as unjust is an immediate
corollary of this basic normative principle. Hence,
it would appear to make a great practical
difference whether we can preserve the distinction
between men as persons and all else as things, or
must abrogate it because men differ from all else
only in degree.
What are the opposite theoretical consequences
of asserting a superficial or a radical difference
in kind between man and other things? We will find,
on the one hand, that the view that man differs
radically in kind harmonizes with certain
fundamental beliefs in all orthodox forms of
Judaism and Christianity: for example, the belief
that man and man alone is, as a person, made in the
image of God; the belief that man and man alone is
a special creation of God; the belief that man and
man alone has an immortal soul or is destined for
personal immortality; the belief that man alone has
free will and carries the burden of moral
responsibility.
But this view of man does not harmonize with the
fundamental principle of continuity in nature, to
which almost all natural scientists subscribe. More
specifically, it challenges the principle of
developmental or phylogenetic continuity, which is
central to the theory of evolution and which
evolutionists think is as applicable to man as it
is to other living organisms. In addition, the view
that man differs radically in kind, entailing as it
does the conception of man as having a non-physical
factor in his make-up, is embarrassing, to say the
least, to the new theology that rejects the
traditional tenets of orthodox Christianity.
We will find, on the other hand, that the view
that man differs in kind, but only superficially,
harmonizes with the principle of continuity in
nature. It also harmonizes with the main tenets of
materialism and naturalism in philosophy, and gives
support to the fundamental disbeliefs of the
prevalent secularism. By the same token, it
challenges and tends to repudiate the traditional
dogmas of orthodox Judaism and Christianity. The
philosophers who have held this view have been, for
the most part, anti-religious. Far from concealing
their antagonism to religion, they have outspokenly
espoused the adverse effects of their views of
nature and of man upon traditional religious
beliefs. In addition, this view, entailing as it
does the denial of anything non-physical in the
nature of man, raises serious if not insuperable
difficulties for the metaphysical theory of the
will's freedom, as well as for the philosophical
doctrine that freedom of choice is the sine qua non
of moral responsibility.
This must suffice as a sketchy preview of the
consequences for action and for thought of the
answers we give to the question about man. These
matters will be more thoroughly treated in Chapters
17 and 18. We shall then have explored all angles
of the question about the difference of man and be
in a position to examine with thoroughness the
difference it makes.
NOTES
1. From You Shall Know Them
by Vercors, copyright 1953 by Jean Bruller, with
permission of Little, Brown and Co. A paper-back
reprint of it has just been published. I heartily
recommend Vercors' novel not only for the pleasure
of a well-told story, but also for a learned
exploration of the criteria involved in
differentiating between humans and other animals.
[return]
2. The first series of
Encyclopaedia Britannica Lectures at the University
of Chicago in 1964, published in 1965. [return]
3. The Conditions of
Philosophy, Chapter 2, esp. pp. 21-38.
[return]
4. See ibid., Chapter 2, pp.
38-42; Chapters 6-7; and Chapter 12, esp. p.
216-217. Let me stress the two related aspects of
every mixed question. On the one hand, philosophy,
as we have seen, is indispensable in the
clarification of the question and in laying down
the criteria for interpreting and judging the
relevance and force of the evidence obtained by
investigation. On the other hand, since the mixed
question is not beyond the scope of investigation,
it can never be adequately answered on the basis of
common experience alone. Purely philosophical
answers to mixed questions are corrigible by
science, just as common sense is corrigible when
the latter forms opinions about matters on the
basis of common experience alone, in spite of the
fact that special experience is obtainable and
should be sought.
Not all mixed questions are of the same type.
Some arise from an apparent conflict between
science and common-sense opinion. These serve to
test the truth of competing philosophical theories
by challenging them to resolve the conflict without
giving up either the truth of common-sense opinion
or the truth of science. I dealt in The
Conditions of Philosophy with a striking
example of this type of mixed question, involving a
conflict between the common-sense beliefs in the
reality of the individual physical objects of
common experience and the assertion, by some
scientists, of the reality of elementary particles.
The mixed question about man is of a different
sort. Here the solution of the problem of how man
differs requires us to consult all the relevant
scientific data and theories and to bring to bear
on them the applicable philosophical analysis and
arguments. It requires us, in addition, to have
recourse to philosophical thought in order to get
the question itself properly framed and understood
and in order to lay down criteria for interpreting
and judging scientific evidence and philosophical
arguments in their relation to each other. But what
is most extraordinary about the mixed question
concerning man, as will become apparent in the
concluding chapters of Part Two, is that we can
envisage in the future the possibility of
scientific efforts that will have effect either of
falsifying a traditional philosophical theory or of
confirming its relative truth. [return]
The End
The above essay is chapter 1 from Dr. Adler's
renowned book The Difference of Man and the
Difference It Makes, originally published in
1967 and republished in 1993 by Fordham University
Press.