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,
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:
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.
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:
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:
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:
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 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:
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:
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.
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. SEE PERENNIAL QUESTIONS