Published in The Journal of Critical Analysis, Vol. II, No 4, January 1971. (minor corrections and additions).

The Cognitivity Paradox is a well written statement about conflicting theses which, the author claims, presently constitute the nature of philosophy.  The purpose of the book is best expressed by quoting from the back of it's cover.

This little book. . .attempts to take philosophical disagreement seriously and, by doing so, to determine whether, and how, philosophy can be construed as a cognitive enterprise.

Can there be philosophical knowledge?  What sort of things are philosophical assertions?  Can they be true or false?  Can they be better or worse?  And how can one adjudicate such questions?  In general, can there be truth in philosophy?  And if so, could it be truth in any familiar sense?

In seeking answers to these questions, the author purports to discover, at the root of philosophy, a peculiarity, which he terms the "cognitivity paradox," a paradox which the book itself, being philosophy, faces.

Lange has traced out many definitions of "a philosophical question" and has chronicled many of the claims and criticisms of philosophy which have long been recognized but rarely brought together so systematically.  The task I have set before me, therefore, is to examine his concern with three basic issues:  (1) What is a philosophic question?  (2) What is philosophy?  (3) What is the role of intuition related in them?
Lange is convinced that philosophy is constituted of theses which should be viewed only as philosophical proposals (having no truth value).  These proposals constitute the postulates from which subsequent assertions; e.g., value judgments, can derive their cognitivity.  And, even though such proposals function as premises, he emphatically denies that this "cognitive" procedure is an analytic modus operandi. (63)
To say the least, it is a rather unsettling experience (distracting and disarming) to attempt to take a firm position counter to Lange's arguments.  Any philosopher planning to read this little book must be prepared for the frustrating experience of reading the very counter criticisms (a page or two later) that the reader has, himself, already formulated.  Lange plays his own "devil's advocate" with skill and without benefit of first and second persons.  There is, therefore, a need to repeat some of his own criticisms (and what is to be assumed are the reader's anticipatory criticisms) of the theses presented, even if only for expository reasons.
Since the book has been written as if it is the work of two philosophic stances (theses vs criticism), I shall refer to "Lange A" and "Lange B" without any guarantee that their separate roles have been clearly defined.  The author, himself has set the stage for this approach in his "Amiable Prolegomena": "I [Lange] asked him [Lange] if thought. . . ."  (4-5)
Evidently Lange A is angry, else he would not so figuratively and picturesquely attribute to all philosophers the "faults" of some.  His implication that each philosopher is unable to see that he does not "have the truth" (though Lange B, later, seems to disagree) is questionable.  Perhaps that misconception is what has motivated him to hypostatize "the cognitivity paradox."  Even if individual thinkers in the history of philosophy have claimed to have the truth, it can hardly be said that all philosophers hold that opinion.  If philosophers have learned anything, it has been that reliance on an answer has to be provisional, i.e., dependent upon (to use Lange A's term) 'adequacy conditions.'  Others, however, prefer terms like 'situation,' 'context,' 'accepted generalizations,' 'premises,' 'accepted beliefs,' 'available evidence,' 'intellectual temper of the times,' etc.  John Herman Randall might say " the current cultural temper of the times."  Nevertheless,

. . .it seems permissible to speak of adequacy conditions for believers, and to hypothesize that there are conditions which a belief would have to meet before it could be regarded as well warranted, justified or adequate by a rational and informed community.  It should be noted in this connection that the empirical or analytic truth of a belief is not a condition for its adequacy. . . .(85)

Lange A goes on to point out that some true beliefs have no adequacy condition (i.e., no basis is evident for accepting them) and some false beliefs have good grounds for acceptance.  Philosophical truths (like logical truth) may, therefore, be "false" under other truth-value conditions.  That is, they are discovered to be so when a new set of ideal adequacy conditions, etc., gives grounds for conflicting judgments.  Lange B of course, would deny this insisting that what we would have then would be a new proposal having no truth value.
Lange A puts it another way: a proposal is "better for this time" when it fulfills certain adequacy conditions (grounds). (78-85)  This is tantamount to proposing still another condition; i.e., time limitation, set, of course, by the prevalent currents of thought, belief, and behavior.  On the one hand, what Lange A seems not to recognize, though Lange B intimates knowledge of it, is that discussion about what constitutes "adequacy conditions" can give rise to intense disagreement unless, of course, the "conditions" are analytical -- as they are in Math.  On the other hand, if temporal limits do qualify adequacy conditions, Lange A seems ignorant of the on-going activity which is philosophy.
The nature of philosophical endeavor is such that there can be no delineation of temporal boundaries.  Lange B indirectly draws attention to this fact.

There is no guarantee that such an informed and rational community would tend to fix opinion in any unanimous fashion. . . .  As a matter of fact it is not known that such a community would even tend to a plurality of fixities, but might continue to oscillate indefinitely, never fixing an opinion or even sets of differing opinions. (101-102)

Lange A and B had previously given an exposition and criticism of what was presented as 12 "construals."  The limits of this paper will not allow a detailed examination of each.  I shall, therefore, keep my remarks general and emphasize some thoughts which I think should have been considered, particularly relating to the long discourse on what is a "philosophical question."  As Peirce puts it, a genuine question is one that is genuinely irritating -- so much so that it initiates inquiry.  The kind of question it is depends on who is irritated and puzzled.  If only philosophers are puzzled, why then it becomes a philosophical question.  Strangely, to whom the question belongs is often decided after an answer has been found.
Lange A and B do not see that no one "philosophical question" or its "answer" is separable from the "eternal" questions of philosophy except discursively and arbitrarily.  Every "philosophical question" is an abstraction from a philosophical context.  Factually, there is no "philosophical question -- settled or unsettled."  There are philosophical problems initiated by some particular question.  It would be more propitious to construe a "settled question" to be a question to which an answer has been given relative to the insights and assertions available to those who are competent in Philosophy.  Lange B seems to retort in somewhat like manner; but Lange A is unhappy with the thought that one set of philosophic assertions may lead to one truth, and another set to another (opposing) truth.  ". . .This would extend the concept of truth beyond the point I am willing to extend it..." (102) and, hence, "objective cognitivity in philosophy is lost." (102)
. Lange A suggests that "philosophic truth" must rest upon "philosophic proposals" which are the fertile grounds (first-order philosophy) for value judgments (second-order philosophy).  But a "philosophic proposal" is in the first place the answer to a first-order "philosophic question."  To be exact:

First-order philosophical questions will be classification questions which do not, at least prima facie, admit of true/false answers.  Second-order philosophical questions will be classification questions which do admit of true/false answers. (56)

Lange A goes on to explain that there are other kinds of questions.  But first-order questions are ". . .adjudicated on grounds such as utility and illumination, rather than truth and falsity." (57)  "The suggestion then is that the philosophical assertion is actually a proposal, or normative recommendation." (57)  We may summarize Lange A's thoughts on "first-order and Second-order Philosophy" (Chapter 6) as he does:

First-Order philosophy is Philosophy as proposed.

Second-order philosophy is philosophy which presupposes that the first-order questions are settled and proceeds on that basis. (59)

To ask, "What is a philosophical question," in order to seek some ultimate and settled answers does not seem to this writer to be too fruitful an enterprise.  This is not to say that the investigation which Lange A and B have offered is to no avail.  They have pointed to some interesting, valuable distinctions and useful insights.  I am, however, suggesting that the implication of such a pursuit is most misleading and cannot compete in heuristic value with the question, "What is philosophy?"  However, if there were a single ultimate answer to such a question, I am convinced it would sound the death knell for philosophy.  The very enterprise of philosophical inquiry is both pseudopodic and rejective.  It selects, it consumes, and it rejects.  Philosophers no more need ask themselves what is a philosophical question than does science -- what is a scientific question -- any more than a man need ask, "What is a man?" inasmuch as there can be no "a" man in the absence of the species or the historical evolution of man.
Productive philosophers spend their time functioning as philosophers do.  Those questions philosophers deal with are "philosophical questions" just as those questions scientists deal with are "scientific questions."  On the face of it, this appears to be a slick (or at least an elliptical) response.  However, philosophers are rather choosy (as are sociologists, scientists, psychologists, etc.) regarding the questions they pursue.  This is not to deny overlapping questions in the various disciplines.  There is little doubt that "the same question" can be pursued by various disciplines.  But it is the nature of the pursuit (i.e., those ways which are distinguishable from the modus operandi of philosophy) that very quickly demonstrates that the term 'question' must not narrowly be construed as an interrogative sentence.  Rather, it is a problem calling for at least a temporary solution -- "temporary" because each "era" directs new light on past achievements.  To paraphrase Whitehead, each century should bring forth fresh refutations of great philosophical solutions.  Be that as it may, if "a philosophical question" points to a complex and a process of questions, it is by that complex process of questions (and statements), which is to be distinguished from the complex of questions (and statements) designating a psychological question, a scientific question, etc., that philosophy manifests itself.
Pursuit of philosophic cognitivity and identification of what is "a philosophic question" can serve to show only that they are issues which cannot be resolved as settled questions and, hence, will fall into the philosophic hopper.  Philosophy is not in pursuit of knowledge in any of the usual senses of the term.  Hence the term 'cognitivity paradox' (in its usual sense) is itself suspect.
Philosophy, if we can believe its history, is, at the least, an on-going, clarifying process -- a "purification" process exposing the alternatives of thought open to thoughtful minds in pursuit of a rational approach to understanding the complexities of the world, human and non-human.  Sometimes the pursuit brings forth only the knowledge of the right questions to ask.  It is herein that we can witness the futility of "settled questions."  At best we discover which questions lack fertility in offering alternative ways of thought -- given alternative assumptions; i.e., alternative reference concepts, Lange A's "cognitivity paradox" can evolve only on the assumption that there is an absolute orientation concept.
When Lange A says in construal 6, " . . . many of the questions philosophers concern themselves with are not philosophical," e.g., "Where did I put the tire iron?" "When is the best time to plant grass seed?" etc., he is being careless with his use of the term 'concern.'  It is not the case that philosophers are "concerned" with these questions in the same sense of "concern" when one wishes to know where he did in fact put the tire iron, etc.  More accurately, philosophers are concerned with the question (among others), "What do we mean by,  'Where did I put the tire iron?'" without giving any concern for the actual whereabouts of the iron itself.
If Lange A means they concern themselves with these questions when they are not philosophizing and are, therefore, functioning in the capacity of any other human being, then he is deliberately misleading and is not willing (or not able) to distinguish between a man's functioning as a philosopher, an uncle, a father, an automobile driver, etc.  He is, in other words, "throwing mud into the water."  Lange A partially meets this criticism in "Construal 6."  He contends that philosophers are not dealing with philosophical issues (questions) even when they are interpreting and explicating the concepts of other philosophers.  He likens their activities to that of being descriptive, scientific, linguistic, or mathematical (21).  Lange A fails to recognize that philosophical interpretation brings to the work of the original philosopher, physicist, etc., concepts which may or may not be what the original thinker intended.  Furthermore, to deny that what philosophers do is philosophy because it is similar to what non-philosophers occasionally do (and ask) fails to observe that on occasion people who are not philosophers may ask similar questions, but they do so without the capacity for philosophizing about them.  They are sometimes puzzled by the same anomalies that capture a philosopher's interest.  Philosophy cannot be atomized; for, like art, it is an on-going activity, colored not by its atomized actions, questions, concepts, and issues, but rather by its entirety.  No philosopher has difficulty distinguishing between philosophy as a whole, psychology as a whole, physics as a whole, chemistry as a whole, sociology as a whole, etc.  Lange A readily admits this. (34)  That each of these sciences often asks the same questions does not destroy the distinction, but, if anything, demonstrates what all philosophers know, that all of them with their overlapping questions were born of philosophy and borne by philosophy until each discipline was able to stand on its own feet.
That philosophers may turn to "mathematical questions" or "scientific questions" or "linguistic questions" is quite beside the point: for, since they are philosophers, they bring to those mathematical and scientific questions a philosophical orientation -- a philosophical mind -- not limited to a mathematical or scientific orientation.  Non-philosophically trained scientists, linguists, etc., do not bring to their subject a broad scope of philosophical awareness and all the ramificatory implications which rest with the inter-dependence of one philosophical realm upon another, viz.: ethics, aesthetics, religion, science, etc.
If this seems elliptical, let me explain further.  I am contending that "philosophical questions" are so overlapping (inter-related and interdependent) whether they are the same questions asked by a psychologist, a physicist, a sociologist or what have you, that what was a "mathematical question" becomes a "philosophical question" by virtue of the philosopher's ability to see that question in its wider epistemological, ethical, aesthetic, metaphysical, axiological ramifications or orientations, quite beyond the training or the capacity of most mathematicians.  In other words, the "mathematical question" remains a "mathematical question" by virtue of its context and the "philosophical limits" to which it is not pushed.
The history of philosophy has long demonstrated that no age for long can prevent the recurrence of "dead" or "settled" questions.  If this thesis be correct, Lange A's hypothesis fails to recognize that philosophy has had and still has other functions which it seems every beginning student learns in his first years of philosophical preparation.  To say the least, philosophy speculates, synthesizes, clarifies, proposes, categorizes, analyzes, criticizes, stipulates, formulates, moralizes, educates, etc., and -- if I may resort to the time-honored cliche -- pursues wisdom (and seeks truth and knowledge -- whatever they are).
Philosophy certainly does all these things individually or in combination; and, any combination of them gives, indeed, a very large number of varieties of philosophizing.  To insist or even hint that these varieties should manifest some generic quality which sets off philosophy from other cognitive pursuits is to hamper and restrict the historically evolving nature of a discipline which itself is affected and influenced by the evolving interests and inclinations of inquiring minds.  And, if one is inclined to retort that science, too, utilizes some of the functions alluded to, let us remember that it learned them at the apron strings of its mother.  That we cannot find the perfect mouse trap into which we can entice philosophy forevermore is not a condemnatory reflection on philosophy or its potential for cognitivity but is, rather, an indication that pursuit of philosophic cognitivity, as a settled issue, is a will-o'-the-wisp.  The Universe and men's minds will not hold still (if we can accept history) for such stultifying epistemological stratification in a world in which "knowledge" continues to explode upon the scene.
What both Lange A and Lange B do not seem to recognize is that there need not be a generic property in the singular (or plural) sense of that phrase for a "philosophical question."  A "question" takes on a "philosophic" property by virtue of the manner in which it is treated -- that is, the context in which it is studied, the ramifications which it yields to the philosopher dealing with it, etc.  "Philosophical questions" may be of diverse nature.  There does not need to be a common identifiable characteristic (or common group of characteristics) identifying them.  Certainly the history of philosophy attests to this.
Lange B, of course, is not oblivious to the difficulty of defining a "philosophical question," and herein we get a first glimpse of his intuitive leanings.

My suspicion is that an adequate general construal of the philosophical question may be impossible, but I find this counter-intuitive, because I feel that I, and others, can and do, with a fair amount of ease and a high degree of consistency, separate philosophical from non-philosophical questions. (34)

Lange B, seems to ignore, here, Lange A's previous intimations that it is not at all clear exactly what constitutes philosophy.  Furthermore, Lange B seems to opt for what he takes (intuitively) to be philosophical, (what others, likewise intuitively, in another time, another cultural or intellectual orientation, may reject), in opposition to Lange A's apparent derision of intuition when the latter said, referring to European philosophers:  "There, perhaps, introspection or intuition or some such unnerving methodology or non-methodology is supposed to supply the criterion. . . ." (8-9
Lange A opts for philosophy as proposal.  But what is "proposal" except what philosophers have always tacitly accepted in their working principle of tolerating disagreement?  Lange B recognizes this.  The ever present underlying "may be" principles are variously expressed in terms like, "Let us assume," "If. . .then," "Let us consider," "If you will grant me this assumption," "If we can accept the evidence," etc.  There is no philosophic system that is not permeated with such "hedging" terms.  But as someone said before, philosophy is also common puzzlement.  If this is all that Lange means by "proposal," it is nothing new.  But he seems to want to say more than this.

One is tempted to say that, disguise matters howsoever we will, philosophy remains an art, the product of a creative, disciplined imagination.  Or to put it in less exalted terms, we sort of make it up as we go along. (62)

It is his use of the word "art," and the phrases, "sort of" and "make it up as we go along," to which I should like to draw attention.  The first, "art," applies not only to philosophy but to any intellectually creative endeavor if we mean to distinguish that endeavor from what we find in nature.  However, man's endeavors are what we find in nature also and those endeavors include observing the world (including human behavior).  In a very complicated sense of the term "natural," a man's art activities are as naturally tropistic to his individual complex of environment as is the phototonic quality of a plant to its own.  What distinguishing significance then can be attributed to "philosophy remains an art."  Yet, Lange B appears to be aware of this when he says:

The proposals which people produce are influenced by a number of factors, and perhaps the most influential of these are psychological rather than logical. (69)

To this, I would have added, educational, economic, sociological, and cultural.
As to the phrase, "sort of make it up," there is the implication that we don't make up all of it "as we go along."  Lange B uses the term 'disciplined imagination.'  May we assume then that philosophy is not "all art" and that there are some "objective" non-artistic aspects to it?  Lange A does not quite seem to be able to make up his mind as is evidenced by his frequent use of such hedging terms as "tempted to say."  Furthermore, he seems to overlook the fact that philosophy utilizes methodology, whereas "make it up as we go along" implies "anything goes" -- without discipline of any kind, without reflectivity, without recourse to basic logical principles, etc.  But he continues to hedge:

It is a matter of definition for us that first-order philosophy is proposal.  It is not a matter of definition, however, that most of what we regard as intrinsically philosophical, or most truly philosophical is first-order philosophy.  Also, although I do not identify with first and second-order philosophy, I do as a matter of fact regard the first and second-order characterizations as being for most practical purposes exhaustive.  Thus, when I speak of the cognitivity of philosophy, it is not analytic for me that philosophy consists largely of first-and-second-order philosophy, though I do, as a matter of fact, regard that as a plausible hypothesis. (63)

Here he appears to want his cake and to eat it too.  What is most disconcerting, however, is the lack of clarity in his meaning not only because of the vacillation between Lange A's arguments and the counter arguments of Lange B, but also because of the vagueness of his language characterized by the passage above and especially by the last sentence.  In addition, Lange A appears to contradict himself -- at least in spirit -- when he says:

I am led to the conclusion that philosophy is mostly proposal largely by the obduracy of philosophical disagreement. (66)

Yet again, before that, he had said, "If, as I suppose, most of philosophy is first-order or second-order philosophy. . . ." (64)
As to what Lange means by a cognitivity paradox, he suggests we take his essay "as an example of the cognitivity paradox in microcosm." (64)  But for the sake of simplicity and clarity (though not accuracy?) he proposes the thesis:

The nature of philosophy is proposal. (64)

The paradox is arrived at by assuming the thesis true.  If we do so, it follows that the thesis cannot be true; hence, a paradox.  In the same manner, Lange A declares his whole essay, The Cognitivity Paradox, a paradox; and, in like manner, the whole of philosophy.  We can however, dissipate the paradox (as Lange B points out) by asserting that henceforth a cognitivity statement shall be considered a second-order assertion of a first-order assertion (proposal).  Lange B is convinced that if we can make sense of the notion of "ideal sets" and "philosophical cognitivity" and of "philosophical truth," and ". . .if we agree to make sense of the notion, then philosophical truth will exist." (77)  He does not clearly explain his use of "make sense" and does not seem to recognize that the phrase means many things to many people.  We may surmise, however, that Lange A means to propose that cognitivity rests on an ideal set of philosophical beliefs (which are no easier to identify than a philosophical question) which rests within ideal adequacy conditions which themselves rest within an informal and rational ideal community.  It all sounds very ideal.  As a matter of fact, it sounds like an exercise in fantasies.  No such ideals exist, nor do we have reason to believe that they will.
It is not easy to fathom what Lange A means.  He says philosophy is mostly proposal (first-order philosophy and apparently derivatively second-order philosophy) but he argues as if he means "philosophy is proposal" and hence a paradox.  If he means that Philosophy is only proposal and if he is right in his observation of the function of philosophy, then to claim his definition to be true and to claim the definition is philosophy would certainly lead to the construction of a paradox.
Lange A's error lies in taking a "philosophic statement" to be philosophy.  But the statement, "The nature of Philosophy is Proposal" must not be taken to be philosophy.  Therefore, that the statement may be true by his construction holds no justificatory force.  As Russell might point out, even though it may be a linguistic paradox, it does not point to a real paradox because no such state of affairs demonstrating that philosophy is only proposal can in fact be shown to be true precisely because of its on-going character.  Demonstrably the statement is false and hopefully I have shown that the statement is not "philosophy" but that philosophy is far more complex than mere proposal.  Certainly it involves various kinds of truth, various functions having nothing to do with truth value, etc.  Take the case of 'Whitehead's disenchantment with Positivism -- he believed its emphasis on fact coupled with a complete disregard for philosophical speculation is a clear example of misunderstanding the force of Philosophy.  Lange B seems to recognize as much when he says:
If philosophy does not -- substantially -- consist of first- and second-order philosophy, as characterized, then this essay would appear to be significantly mistaken, perhaps fortunately, and the threat of the cognitivity paradox ... would be forestalled, or at least diminished. (63)
I do not doubt that The Cognitivity Paradox has itself been constructed "in microcosm" a paradox.  But at no time (self-admittedly through Lange B) have Lange A's arguments been able to withstand the compelling force of Lange B's counter-arguments, so that finally the admission is made that the thesis (proposal) has not been well argued; but Lange A believes he is right anyway.  And for all Lange B's incisive analytical acuity, he (Lange A) resorts to a "decision of passion." (116)  He seems to say, "Damn it, don't bother me with alternative facts; my intuition is made up."  With a world coming loose at the seams, drifting on the multitudinous eddies and currents of the passionate cries of the disenchanted with their quick and ready "solutions," Lange A makes an intellectual cop out, an inexcusable faux pas.  He too has yielded to an easy solution.  The honored position held by verification was hard won.  There is as yet no justification for relinquishing it to intuition or to any degree, to those who do not have the courage, the stamina or the insights to develop its arduous techniques.  This is not to say that intuition has no value in philosophy.  Many of the great thoughts of the pre-Socratics, in addition to men like Plato, Aristotle, Russell, Einstein, and others have been intuitive in origin.  (But not as innate ideas of self-evident truths.)  Such intuitions serve the very important function of supplying the targets for the canons of reason.  History shows us that such targets have predominantly been rent asunder and comparatively few to date have withstood the barrage of man's intellectual force.  No more compelling evidence is required to demonstrate the non-cognitive nature of intuition.
Yet, Lange A seems to respond as an absolutist and an emotive intuitionist appealing for the restoration of "intuition" to an honored place in philosophy.  There is the unmistakable yearning for the "respectability" which comes with final answers even though Lange B makes it quite clear that "fixity of opinion" (101) is not likely.  Nor is plurality of "fixity of opinion irrational or uninformed."  Lange A seems to make the underlying assumption (17) that settled questions are absolutely settled.  It is unfortunate, therefore, (in Lange A's own words) that after all this ". . .stumbling talk of ideal communities, beliefs, sets, analyticities, proposals, objections, and counter objections. . ." (113) that Lange A's looming conviction "that value judgments can be cognitive" (113) appears to be seriously weakened by Lange B's contention "that the value judgment can be cognitive cannot be well argued. . . ."  This writer is left with a gnawing feeling likened to observing an indecisive moth which sees a complex of lights, "knows" not which one it wants, and seems quite unable to make a decision.
But, finally, there must be a "moment of truth."  How then does Lange A derive his solution for the purported cognitivity paradox?  Part of his method is to change the meaning of "cognitivity" so that the element of truth value that it usually entails no longer is attributable to the philosophical statements which he considers first-order philosophy and is transferable to those statements, i.e., value judgments, which he calls "second-order philosophy."  But his ultimate answer, I consider to be the crucial fault in his presentation.  It is expressed in the following quotation:

That the value judgment is cognitive seems to me in the final analysis to be incontestable and unarguable; that it is cognitive seems to me to be the result of a recognition, or seeing or intuition if you like, which can have no other validation than its own coercive incapacity to be humanly denied; [MY ITALICS] and that such judgments can be cognitive seems to me to give evidence to the putatively obsolete claim now apparently restored more powerfully than ever that intuition, or vision, lies at the root of morality, of philosophy, of man. No man has died for the propositions of physics; but men have died for the vision that it is good to seek such truths; I think they are right; thus I think that the belief for which they died was true. (113-114)

Lange A's emphasis on dying for one's beliefs causes wonder as to whether this is a criterion for truth.  Considering the many beliefs (which include value judgments) long shown to be false, for which men have died, it would appear that dying for one's beliefs is hardly proper validation -- unless, of course, one defines truth (analytically) as "that for which one is willing to die" as Lange (unwittingly) seems to do and as the ambiguity of his last statements seem to suggest.  It is one thing to accept our beliefs out of pragmatic justification, out of a systematic interrelated non-contradictory set of warranted assertions.  It is quite another to accord to intuition through a Kierkegaardian leap of faith the reigning place of honor as the source of philosophic cognitivity and truth.  If it is the fountain of truth for philosophers, why not, then, for all men -- including those holding conflicting visions for which each is willing to die.
In the last analysis, Lange A describes his book better than I can.

It is at least a recommendation to philosophers that they have the courage to commit themselves to the cognitivity of value judgments, in order by their boot straps [MY ITALICS] to restore the cognitivity which they, in their official flight from value judgments, have abandoned in word but have continued to proclaim in deed. (117)

We are even now not yet out of the dark aimless wanderings of competing intuitions, prejudices, and value judgments however they are arrived at.  I believe that philosophers will not take this appeal seriously -- at least, I hope they will not.


1971 by Pasqual S. Schievella