New Blog Available At: albertpeterpacelli.com Why Philosophy? Although the question, “Why philosophy?” is often asked by philosophers and their students, it is one that is uniquely modern. Most philosophers, and perhaps only a few others, are aware that until the advent of the Scientific Revolution, philosophy was the all-embracing science. There was no meaningful distinction between philosophy, on the one hand, and mathematics, the natural sciences, psychology, or sociology, on the other. All of these were simply part of the pursuit of what was presumed to be an attainably homogenous human understanding of self and the world. The question of the value of philosophy was therefore identical to the question of the value of knowledge itself, and, outside of sophist or skeptic circles, it would have been met with ridicule. I do not mean to suggest that at any one time since Thales of Miletus initiated the Western philosophical tradition circa the sixth century B.C., that philosophy has been conducted by more than a small number of scholars. Neither do I mean that the value of philosophy has ever been appreciated by a large portion of the men and women of commerce or other more practical concerns. Instead, what I am saying is that in the philosophical community, prior to the modern era which began with the mind-body dualism of René Descartes in the early 17th century A.D., the value of philosophy was taken as a given. Indeed, from the ancient Greeks through the church philosophers up to and including St. Thomas Aquinas in the high Middle Ages, it was generally recognized that humankind’s faculty of objective reason, which set it apart from the other creatures of the earth, rendered philosophic contemplation humankind’s highest vocation. But the Scientific Revolution, which followed not long afterward, brought with it a new, “scientific” method of investigating physical realities that is inapplicable to the study of philosophy’s metaphysical questions. The result was the separation of the empirical sciences from contemplative philosophy and the rapid development of demonstrable facts about the world of the former’s domain. Then, the unthinkable happened—the disparity between the achievements of the physical, social, and psychological sciences and the lack of progress of what remained of philosophy grew to be so great that philosophy ceased to be considered to be a science at all! And so, it was only a question of time before philosophers would begin to ask the question “Why philosophy?” The name “philosophy,” which means love of knowledge, was given to us by the ancient Greeks. It is a telling one, and one which is important to the thesis that will be developed here, because it suggests that the value of philosophy lies in the pursuit of knowledge for the sheer love of it. This made sense, of course, when the domain of philosophical inquiry was unified and all encompassing. However, even though it is no longer the case that anyone who devotes time to studying anything about the world can, ipso facto, call themselves a philosopher, in my experience, it remains true that most philosophers today philosophize for precisely that reason, and that they gratefully accept, as a windfall, the additional benefit that love brings to any positive vocation, which is the attendant sense of self-enrichment. It follows quite naturally that the common answers to the question, “Why philosophy?” tend to be centered upon its effect upon the philosopher himself or herself. These include an enhanced ability to think logically and critically, to see through assertions to their presuppositions, and to relate to their world of experience from a more thoughtful, consistent, and presumably more profound perspective than those who view the world as a mere means to the satisfaction of their personal ends. And then, for at least some of us, there is a serendipitous feeling, which announces itself only as and when it pleases, that philosophical insight provides a real glimpse at the wondrous glory of the universe. Indeed, as Bertrand Russell so aptly said, it is through the “contemplation of the infinity of the universe that the mind achieves some share in infinity.”1 1 Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, Mineola, NY: Dover, 1999, 115. But is the answer to the question “Why philosophy?” really limited to the fact that, for philosophers, philosophy is its own reward? And, is it fair to ask the question simply because scientific progress has so vastly outstripped the achievements of modern philosophy? I would like to suggest here that the answer to both of these questions is, “No!” and that the common understanding of the importance of philosophy does it a great injustice. In my opinion, the real reason that the question, “Why philosophy?” is even asked by philosophers today, especially by those as famous as Russell, is rooted in metaphysics’ abysmal failure during the modern (and post-modern) era and that, as a result, the question simply cannot be avoided. That such a failure has occurred can hardly be doubted, since, for the past one hundred years or so, mainstream philosophy has declared itself to be dead, asserting that the answers to the traditional questions of metaphysics, such as the existence of God, the beginning of the world, the eternality of the human soul, and the existence of human freedom, are beyond the reach of human reason and abdicating the domain of philosophy to the very science that philosophy spawned centuries before. And so, it should come as no surprise that, although the question “Why philosophy?” boldly demands the justification of the relevance of philosophy to modern human experience, the common response answers, without acknowledging that it does, the much less challenging one, “Why study philosophy?” as if it were posed by a first-year college student searching for a major area of specialization. I would like, therefore, first to say only a very few words about the failure of modern philosophy and how we might rectify it and then to address directly the question, “Why philosophy?” from the standpoint of its value not merely as an individual mental exercise but to humanity at large considered from a historical and social perspective. There are several reasons for the failure of modern philosophy, but, at root, they reduce to one. Simply put, modern philosophy has never securely established the grounds for the objective reason by which it is conducted. Whether one argues, at one end of the philosophical spectrum, that philosophy is capable of addressing all of the big questions of metaphysics or asserts, at the other end of that spectrum, that all knowledge and truth are subjective or even beyond human reach, he or she has no choice but to defend their position by resort to objective reason. So, the very first question that philosophers must address is “How is it possible for organic creatures such as human beings to attain to objective knowledge?”2 In the absence of an answer to this question, any and all philosophical claims must be said to be ungrounded. The preconditions of objective reason are three: necessary and universal rules of thought, a world that is orderly in a manner that is susceptible of cognition under such rules, and a persistent, selfconscious, cognizing self. The first simply defines what we mean when we say that reason is objective and tells us that it must be applicable in each and every case and cannot not be applicable in any instance. The second is that reality must be orderly in a sense that is compatible with objective reason. The justification of this claim is that if reality were chaotic, then the order that is apparent to human reason in the act of understanding would have to be sourced in humankind itself, and we know that we have no such power. The third states what should be obvious but which modern and post-modern philosophy has gone to great lengths to cover over, which is, that objective reason requires its possessor to have the capacity to recognize its own rational power precisely because objectivity requires the conceptual separation of the subject who knows from the object of his or her knowledge. In my view, the three conditions of objective understanding require only two entities to be fully met, namely, the substantive, rational “cognizing-I” and the objects of its intensionality (that is, the objects that it thinks about), the latter of which, as both a condition of their cognition and their very being, are irreducibly and essentially logical, and the key to successful philosophy lies in the grounding of both entities.3 2 See, Thomas Nagel, The Last Word, New York: Oxford University Press, 2012, 4. By “irreducibly logical” I mean that all objects of thought and empirical cognition, when reduced to their very essence, can be seen to have in common the properties that we describe by logical rule, which are self-identicality, 3 2 All of the preconditions of objective reason were recognized under various understandings from Plato through Descartes, but when the latter initiated the philosophy of the self that has dominated philosophical discourse ever since, although he tried mightily to establish the self as substance, he failed to do so. The reason for Descartes’s failure was embedded in his method of universal doubt which yielded his famous Cogito Ergo Sum (“I think, therefore, I am”). The Cogito, as it is called, asserts that even if one doubts everything that they think, they cannot doubt that they are thinking and must therefore exist as a thinking being. Of the many difficulties that lie under the surface of the Cogito, there is one that is especially problematic because the argument fails to take into account that knowledge is a unified act of the “cognizing-I” and its objects and that it is impossible to universally doubt all of the objects of thought without doubting the thinker who thinks them!4 Descartes’s successors seized upon this defect almost immediately and the result was more than three centuries of degenerative philosophical analysis in which, because no one succeeded in establishing the subject of cognition as a substantive, persistent, objective knower, philosophy came to increasingly doubt itself. My response to the question, “Why philosophy?” will, therefore, begin from the premise of objective reason, which means that philosophy, when properly conducted, is, as it must be, a wellgrounded science and not merely an intellectual game. This premise allows us to take philosophy seriously and to evaluate it, as it can only be evaluated, on its own terms. In other words, the question “Why philosophy?” is itself a philosophical question and one which can only be answered upon a philosophical understanding. We can start this process with that which has already been described. Because philosophy is the mother of all sciences, it can hardly be fair to denigrate her while praising the achievements of her offspring. But this is only the beginning of our assessment, one that encourages us to think more deeply. Before any real progress can be made in our inquiry, we need to recognize what Martin Heidegger so brilliantly pointed out, which is that there is something important that lies deep in the separation of philosophy and the physical sciences, namely, that the physical sciences simply presume, without explanation, the being of the objects of their study. Consider, for example, Galileo’s famous gravity experiment in which he dropped two spheres of different masses from the Tower of Pisa to prove that their time of descent did not depend upon their respective masses. The metaphysical presupposition of the experiment, totally unaddressed by the great scientist, is that the two spheres exist, each as an independent and persistent object. While this sort of premise is one that scientists and laypeople readily accept, philosophers may not do so, because it is their job to ask questions such as, “What do we mean when we say that something is or is an object?” and “How do we know that objects exist independently of the minds that perceive them?” The point is that, not only did modern science separate itself from contemplative philosophy but, to progress with the scientific investigation of the laws governing physical realities, modern science simply ceased being philosophical. This is both a blessing and a curse—the blessing lies in the obvious fruits of scientific achievement, the curse lies in the unphilosophic deification of those achievements and in the presumptuousness of those who think that the answer to the question, “Why philosophy?” and, the more originary (as Heidegger characterizes it) question, “Why is there being?” can be given scientifically. In practical terms, science may be praised for its provenance of longer and more comfortable lives, but not without taking into account that it also gives us the capability of complete and utter self and social annihilation, which raises profoundly ethical questions about the use of its own powers that are utterly beyond the scope of science. It is for philosophers (and theologians) to figure out the answers to these questions, but we can only begin to address them if we do so from the perspective of objective reason. non-contradiction, excluded middle, and sufficient reason (that is, ground). Although further exposition and defense of this claim are beyond the scope of this article, it is central to the theme of my book, Being and Intelligibility, Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2017. 4 See, William Temple, “Part I, Lecture III: The Cartesian Faux-Pas,” in Nature, Man and God, 3rd ed., Edinburgh: R. & B. Clark, Limited, 1940. 3 Is, then, the value of philosophy limited to the ethical evaluation of science? Hardly, so. Let us consider for a moment the subject of political philosophy, one of philosophy’s important sub-disciplines. The profound impact on human history and society that the ideas of important philosophers from Plato onward concerning the foundations of government and the ideals of justice is undeniable. Take, for example, the impact on western history had by Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince, in which Machiavelli famously argues that the ends of a governor justify his or her means, through its influence upon Henry VIII in his decision to turn England away from the Church toward Protestantism. Or take John Locke’s Two Treatises on Government, in which Locke argues that human beings have a natural right to life, liberty, and property, which is generally thought to have inspired Thomas Jefferson’s draftsmanship of the Declaration of Independence. Or consider the impact upon the French Revolution of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s The Social Contract, which is famous for its opening sentence, “Man was born free but everywhere he is in chains!” and in which the author argues that human freedom can only be obtained within a social order in which individuals subordinate themselves to the will of the people at large. Consider also the impact upon Vladimir Lenin and the Russian Revolution had by Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto, in which Marx argues that the proletariat (working class) can only obtain its freedom through a revolution in which private property is abolished. Or take Friedrich Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals and other writings, in which Nietzsche expresses contempt for Christianity, Judaism, and egalitarianism, all of which he charges with impeding the rightful maximization of culture’s own power, which is thought to have influenced Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf, his national socialist movement in 20th century Germany, his assertion of the supremacy of the Aryan race, and the commencement of World War II. These examples make clear that, although philosophy is contemplative and sometimes abstract it is far from disconnected from the practical and, indeed, to the contrary, it has historically, in the broadest of senses, determined how we understand ourselves and our society. It is also glaring that the substance of the ideas of these philosophers, and others not mentioned here, is wildly divergent and, accordingly, calls for correspondingly different understandings of how humanity views itself and its inter–subjectivity, and how these understandings are to be best reflected in our political and social institutions. The result of this divergence is that acceptance of one view entails rejection of the others, in some cases with implicit or explicit disdain. The difficulty is not that modern philosophy ignores the questions of political philosophy, but that it has increasingly come to treat them as though they are political, not philosophical, questions. Modern philosophy has no choice but to take this tact because its philosophical perspective is not grounded in objective reason and its preconditions. It is also important to observe that, if history has taught us anything, it is that the impact which philosophy has upon society is in many instances wholly unrelated to the quality of the philosophy itself, which only adds urgency to answering the question, “Why philosophy?” and suggests that the answer to that question requires inquiry into another one, which is, “What are the preconditions of good philosophy?” Closely related to political philosophy is the subject of the philosophy of history, which is generally understood to inquire into the epistemology of history, which asks what we know about that which has transpired in the past and how we know it, and also the metaphysics of history, which asks whether history occurs in a process the principles of which can be identified and, if so, whether historical processes are teleological. The answers to these questions can greatly affect the assembly, maintenance, writing, manipulation, and rewriting of history itself, as well as how a nation views its destiny within the larger historical picture. Today, it is undeniable that the versions of early American history taught to the first generation to be born after World War II are being rewritten in a manner that is not friendly to Christopher Columbus, the early American colonists, or the Founding Fathers, with the intention of making a moral point. Especially important in the United States is that the distinction between a constitutional republic, founded upon God-given natural rights, and a mere democracy has been blurred to the vanishing point, which threatens very well to lead to the opposite of morality. At a very minimum, the current circumstances raise questions concerning the accuracy of the historical accounts of the period 4 (because both cannot fairly reflect reality), whether and the extent to which it is ethical to interpret historical events in light of contemporary notions of morality, and the importance of understanding history itself. By philosophical (not political) investigation of intellectual eras, such as the natural era of the ancient Greeks, the metaphysical era of the classic Greeks, the religious era of the Catholic philosophers of the Middle Ages, the scientific era of the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and the Industrial Revolution, and the current technological era, all of which appear to be both a product and a determinant of human experience, the philosophy of history may not only tell us where we have been but where we are and ought to be going as a species, and we can, therefore, at least attempt the objective evaluation of our apparent destiny. But it is not hard to see that, without an objective philosophical understanding of ourselves and our history, we are free to go anywhere, and the risk is that our future will be determined more by the charisma of our leaders than by our own reason. Lastly, consider the traditional subject matter of metaphysics. The self-doubt of postmodern philosophy consists precisely in the assertion that metaphysical questions are beyond humankind’s knowledge or, worse, that they have no meaning because their objects cannot be given to the senses and verified. However, in my opinion, that metaphysics has fallen into disrepute merely demonstrates the urgency of resetting it upon the undeniable foundation of objective knowledge. Clearly, only a substantive, persistent, self-conscious entity can know God, can be immortal, can be free to act or refrain from acting, and can be the subject of moral obligation. Only after we understand the nature of objective reason can we begin to answer whether these ideas are demonstrably real or imagined. How, then, does one explain that modern philosophy has preferred to chase itself into its own grave rather than address the obvious shortcomings associated with its failure to answer the fundamental philosophical question of objectivity? The only answer that I can come up with is that so-called death of philosophy reflects a whelming secular agenda, which began with the Renaissance and has gained steam ever since. But whatever its motivations may be, the modern disdain for metaphysics pales in importance to its consequences. These lie precisely where the vacuum of post-modern philosophy intersects fundamentally with society at large and may be lumped together under the heading of modern humanism.5 Few would deny that humankind has an obligation to act morally and that such an obligation can be meaningful only if it is accompanied by the freedom to do so. However, when morality is in the eye of the beholder, as is the case with modern humanism, the freedom that necessarily accompanies objective moral obligation becomes utterly irrelevant and may be replaced by government sanctioned license to act in furtherance of individual desire without any constraint of objective reason. And license given by government may readily be taken away by government. In the current era, traditional social structures and values, such as the family, the liberties reflected so eloquently in the Bill of Rights, private charity, and religion, all of which place the individual above the state, have been systematically undercut and are fast disappearing. Philosophy has not only yielded to science but, in supporting modern humanism, it also yields to politics. The modern nation state controls its media, its educational system, its healthcare system, and the technology of war and will, very shortly, be able to offer its citizens a virtual reality that, from the mere standpoint of sensation, will be superior to their own, natural one. Never in the history of the world have we been so urgently confronted by so many important philosophical questions, ones that concern the survival of humankind and the conditionality of the right of its individual members to live, the fundamental nature of our political and social institutions and the extent to which government and private enterprise should be allowed to surveil us, how we think about ourselves and how we treat each other, how we manage the superposition of technology on our natural experience, and so on. Yet, the assault 5 In Against Modern Humanism, Jeff Bergner argues that contemporary secular humanism is sourced in the German idealism that it otherwise rejects and is, as a result, oddly inconsistent with the determinism of modern science. Norfolk, VA: Rambling Ridge Press, 2013. 5 upon the substantive self, the objectivity of human experience, including especially moral obligation, and the reasonableness of the proposition that there must be a necessary and supreme principle of the being of beings, has left humanity standing ill-prepared to address them. And, ironically, a bittersweet circle has now been completed—the great achievements of modern science against which modern philosophy has been found to be so utterly deficient have rendered philosophy more important than ever before! Accordingly, the question “Why philosophy?” should be as unthinkable today as it was at the time of the commencement of the modern philosophical period. But what is needed is not just any philosophy but better philosophy, and better philosophy begins with a radical change in philosophical perspective, which requires the establishment of objective knowledge and, especially, its presupposition of a persistent, substantive self. Albert Peter Pacelli Mendham, New Jersey March 2018 © Copyright 2018 – Albert Peter Pacelli – All rights reserved. 6